“Is this the part where you ask me to start whoring or ask me to leave?” she asks, her voice stronger than I anticipated by the look of her.
My head jerks at her words and I narrow my eyes. “Why would you think I’d ask you to whore?”
She shrugs but doesn’t look away from me. “Twinkie’s gone, and I’m here, working behind your bar but otherwise of no use to you. I know what men in the club expect. I knew it was a matter of time.”
I almost snort at her words. Crooner would probably fight me to the death if I made his girl whore. Aside from that, she ain’t even eighteen yet. No way in fuck would I have her here, whoring, and on top of all that other shit, the life she’s had—I wouldn’t allow it, never mind ask her, or demand it.
“Plenty of other girls hanging around here to fulfill the brother’s needs, Hayden. You will never be asked to do that, even if you didn’t work behind the bar. You’re under our protection and that has nothing to do with how you use your body.”
I watch as her eyes widen, and she nods, her bottom teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she looks at me, confusion obviously marring her features. “I am going to ask you for something, and Ginger says I shouldn’t, but I need to.”
Hayden sits quietly as if she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. I don’t know if she needs to or not, but I plan on being as straightforward as possible. “We need to know where Lucifer would be, if he were lying in wait, trying to be invisible.”
“Lucifer?” she asks, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to, Snake. Please don’t make me,” she whimpers.
I lift my chin and wait for her to speak. Her eyes are not only wide but fucking wild and I brace my hands on the arms of my chair in case she takes off.
“Why do you need to know about him, why are you asking me about him, again?”
“He’s here, babe. He’s the one who shot Crooner,” I gently explain.
She stands, and I quickly do as well. I’m ready to go after her. Except, she doesn’t run, she begins to pace. I watch as she runs one of her hands through her hair and starts to mumble to herself.
“You gotta keep it together, babe. You’re safe here, Easton is safe here,” I murmur.
Her head snaps to the side, her wild eyes meeting mine. “I’m not safe here if he just walked in and shot my-my-my-Crooner,” she hisses.
“You are, Hayden. Security is much tighter here since that happened. Nobody will just walk in anywhere. Doors are locked and have stayed locked. Men are on round-the-clock patrol. You’re safe. However, we can’t find him, there is no sign of him anywhere and this town isn’t that big,” I say.
She lifts her chin, her eyes calming a bit before she sucks in a deep breath. “He would be somewhere in plain sight,” she announces. “He wouldn’t ever stay at a hotel. It would be an abandoned cabin, or maybe he would even rent a cabin somewhere as long as they did it by cash only, and didn’t require any kind of credit checks. He doesn’t have a credit card anyway. He lives off the grid, has for years. He doesn’t even file taxes,” she explains.
I scrub my hand over my face with a groan. We’re never going to find him. Hunting cabins and vacation cabins alike litter this place. This is like finding a needle in a haystack at this point.
“He wouldn’t travel alone,” she whispers.
“He wouldn’t?” I ask, lifting my eyes to her face.
She shakes her head slowly and I watch as something haunted, and horrific passes behind her eyes. “He always has a female with him,” she whispers. The way she says female, and not woman, makes my stomach churn.
“How old?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Fourteen to twenty,” she whispers.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity-fuck.
“You’ve been extremely helpful, babe. I appreciate it,” I praise.
She walks around my desk and wraps her hand around my forearm, her eyes pleading with me before she speaks. “Find him. End him. Save her. Save me.” Hayden releases me and without another word she turns and walks away from me.
I watch her go, deciding to leave her be. Maybe Ginger was right, maybe I shouldn’t have asked Hayden for help. I could have fucked her up even more, but her information wasn’t useless. Now, I at least have some kind of lead, somewhere to focus my search.
Sitting back down in my chair, I decide to make some phone calls. What’s the point of having the police in your pocket if you can’t use them a little. I tell my favorite police chief everything I know, including the information that Lucifer most likely has an underage girl with him for nefarious reasons. He’s more than happy to help, and I can’t contain my smirk.
Lucifer won’t expect local law enforcement on his ass, and I don’t give a fuck what that makes me, asking for their help the way I have. I’ll owe the chief a marker, but if it gets me Lucifer and this poor girl, then I don’t give a shit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
GINGER
Prescott looks conflicted. I watch as he closes the door behind him, lifting his chin to Free who is sitting on the sofa. Free stands, and he leaves the house without a word. Once the front door is closed behind him, Prescott flips the deadbolt locked, then turns around to face me again.
“Pres,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, closing his eyes, then lets out a deep breath. “I had to, peaches,” he informs.
My heart starts to pound, it beats against my chest and I stay frozen in my spot. He’s scaring me, or rather, his next words scare me. I’m not sure what he had to do, but it terrifies me what will come out of his mouth next.
“I had to ask her about Lucifer’s habits, she’s the only one that would know. The look in her eyes, fuck,” he hisses.
Realization rolls through me and I feel nauseous. “Is Hayden, okay?” I whisper.
His head shakes from side to side, and I watch as one of his hand runs through his overly long hair. “I hope that she will be, but peaches, she was the only one who would know. We weren’t finding anything, nothing,” he admits.
I hold out my hand, wanting him to come sit next to me and I’m glad when his feet shuffle my way. His head is down, his shoulders slumped, and I can tell that he’s feeling guilty. He lets out a heavy sigh as he sits back on the sofa, his head falling against the back and his eyes closing tightly.
“Lucifer lives off the grid. She said he would stay in a cabin, or rental, but would pay cash. He would never stay at a hotel. She also said,” his voice goes into a whisper before he finishes. “She said he would have a teenage girl with him, he always does.”
My stomach clenches and my heart shatters into a million pieces. Reaching forward I grab hold of Prescott’s cut and pull him toward me. He doesn’t jerk away from me, he leans in and his green eyes, so daunted and sad, look directly into mine.
“Find them,” I grind out through clenched teeth.
Prescott lifts his hand, placing his palm on my brand and runs his thumb up the center of my throat, resting it against the tip of my chin. “I plan on it, peaches. I’m finding them, and I’ll dispose of him.”
“Make him hurt, Prescott,” I whimper as tears fill my eyes.
Prescott rests his forehead against mine, his eyes slide closed and he growls. “I’ll make him regret ever being born.”
“Thank God,” I breathe.
We stay that way for at least a minute, our eyes closed as we both soak in each other’s touch. The heaviness of the moment is almost too much to bear.
Then he leans back, disengaging himself from me and gives me a lopsided smile. “You make Free go baby shopping today?” he asks, changing the subject.
I giggle, happy for the lighter mood. “He hated it at first, but don’t tell him that I told you,” I murmur leaning in a little closer. “He was more excited than I was at the end and started throwing all kinds of shit in my basket because the princess, needed it.”
Prescott laughs, leaning in, his nose brushes mine. “Let’s get you fed, then you can show me all the shit you picked
up.”
Together, Prescott and I make dinner. It isn’t anything fancy, just spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread but we do it together. I can’t remember the last time we cooked together—maybe never. It seems so… domestic.
I can’t deny that I love having him home with me at night, and since I’ve been back from California, I feel like I’ve been in a dreamland. Sure, shit has gone down all around us, but me and Pres, we’re better than ever. It all feels so—normal.
Once our food is quickly consumed, apparently, we were both starving, we clean up and then practically sprint upstairs. I’m excited to show him everything and beyond that, I’m thrilled that he seems excited to see it all.
Taking everything out of the shopping bags, one-by-one, I lay them out on the floor, grouping them into piles by use. Bath things in one pile, feeding things in another, on and on like that. When I’m finished, I look up and Prescott’s face is pale, his eyes wide as he glances from item to item.
“Pres?” I ask.
He shakes his head once, his green eyes lifting to meet mine. “I didn’t realize babies needed so much fucking shit,” he exclaims. He doesn’t sound angry, but rather, scared—maybe even terrified.
“Apparently. Hell if I know, I got the list online,” I shrug, trying to make light of the obvious terror that’s filling my husband right now.
Prescott visibly relaxes and then lets out a long breath. “Thank fuck your mom is coming to help. I really don’t think I could keep a baby alive,” he admits.
I crawl around all of the baby shit until I’m right in front of him and I rest back on my knees and feet. Lifting my hand, I wrap it around his bearded cheek, looking up at him with a smile.
“You would do just fine, Prescott. You take care of me perfectly,” I state.
He snorts, turning his head to press a kiss against my palm. “You aren’t as fragile as a baby, peaches.”
“I was when you brought me back from California. I felt like I was about to break every second of every day. Yet, you were there, and you took care of me, you brought me back to life.”
Prescott leans forward, pressing his lips to mine. He slips his hands beneath my arms and lifts me as he stands. Sliding his hand into mine, we walk out of Evalyn’s room. I flip the light switch off as I exit, and follow him toward our bedroom.
Silently we enter our room, and Prescott doesn’t even turn the light on. He drops my hand and I watch, the room lit from the moon shining in, as he undresses.
I do the same, taking my clothes off from the long day, crawling into bed beside him and curling into his side. He lifts his hand and gently combs his fingers through my hair.
“You brought me to life the second your eyes met mine in Cash Bar. I expected to see your uncle behind the bar, but when you looked up, I was stunned. I’d never seen a woman so beautiful in my entire life. I knew right then and there that I had to make you mine. I tried to control you because I wanted to keep you for always. When I thought you’d ran off, when I thought I’d lost you, I hated myself. I hated everything,” he whispers into the dark room.
“Stop being sweet,” I say as I wipe the tears that have started to fall from my eyes. Prescott chuckles, his chest moving beneath my cheek.
His fingers move from my hair to my ass and he gives me a squeeze. “How about we fuck instead of talk about how much we mean to one another?” he asks, his voice gruff.
I let out a laugh, unable to control myself, as he rolls me over onto my back.
“Spread,” he grunts.
My laughter dies down as I slowly spread my legs. His hips fit perfectly between them, and I can feel his hard length against my pussy. He holds himself above me, careful not to let his belly touch my own. Bending my knees, I place my feet on the mattress and lift my hips so that I feel his length slip along my center.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
Closing my eyes, I let out a moan of my own as his cock slowly fills me. Prescott’s hands wrap around the backs of my thighs and he pushes my legs up and wider, rising to his knees.
He slips even deeper inside of me and we both groan at the sensation. Opening my eyes, I watch as he slowly fucks me, his head tipped down, his gaze focused on where our bodies connect.
“Could watch my cock fill you, all day, every day,” his voice rumbles.
I shiver, wishing that his words could become a reality. Feeling him fill my body is one of my most favorite sensations in the world. Closing my eyes, I let myself relax and just feel.
I can sense my body slowly heating, slowly climbing toward my climax. I don’t try to rush it because I want this to last as long as possible. He’s being gentle, and he’s enjoying himself too much for me to demand anything.
Reaching forward, I wrap my fingers around his forearms and squeeze. He lets out a low grunt, his movements speeding and his thrusts becoming more powerful. “So good,” I whimper.
Prescott wraps one of my legs around his hip while his hand presses against the center of my chest. I open my eyes to look at him, but he’s focused on his hand against my skin. “This body is mine, all of it,” he says.
I don’t know if he means for me to hear or not, so I don’t respond. Words are lost on me at the moment anyway, I’m too fucking close, and trying to hold it back. I squeeze his forearm of the hand at my chest and let out a mewl.
“I’m close, Pres,” I admit, wishing that I weren’t, wishing that I could hold this off for much longer.
He grunts, his movements becoming jerkier, and his thrusts gaining even more speed and strength as he slams into me.
Arching my neck, I let out a cry as my pussy clenches and my body stiffens. My climax rushes through me, no longer a slow build from just minutes ago.
Prescott doesn’t stop fucking me, in fact, he does it even harder. When he drives inside of me one last time, he lets out a roar as he comes deep inside of my body.
His cock twitches as he fills me with his release. His hips slowly pump, his eyes opening to look down at my own, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Every time, it gets better every fucking time, my Georgia peach.”
My fingers flex around his, then he gently glides out of me and lies on his side. His lips touch my shoulder, my neck, and then my mouth.
Rolling over onto my own side, I let my fingers trace his bicep. I want to cuddle closer to him, but this belly keeps growing daily, and I find it harder and harder to maneuver around.
Prescott’s hand shifts, pressing his warm palm against my stomach. “When is your next doctor’s appointment?” he asks into the dark room.
“Day after tomorrow, I can’t believe that another month has passed. It feels like it’s gone in the blink of an eye,” I admit.
He grunts, his fingers gently caressing my belly. “Your mom will be here soon. Four more weeks,” he mutters. “Which means I need to get Lucifer dealt with by then.”
I don’t want to talk about that evil man while in our bed, but I know that he weighs heavily on Prescott’s mind, so I don’t say anything. I want him found too, though. I want to save the girl he’s hurting from another second of pain. I can’t even imagine it.
“I know you’ll find him soon, especially now that you have an idea of where he could be.”
He lets out a breath. “I called the chief of police. I’ll owe him for the help, but I don’t care,” he admits. “He said they would start searching for recent vacancies on rentals that were filled, and then he would give me a list of unoccupied cabins in the area, either abandoned or vacation places.”
“Shit. What would repayment of a favor like that look like, Pres?” I ask, fear clawing at the base of my throat.
Prescott’s fingers twitch against my stomach, but he doesn’t answer right away. “I don’t know, peaches. I’ve never asked for anything quite like this before from him,” he whispers truthfully.
“Shit,” I repeat.
Prescott only grunts, then he sits up, grabs the bedding and yanks it over our bodies. Gently,
he rolls me onto my other side, then tugs my back against his front.
We don’t say anything else, and I fall asleep easily as the rhythmic sounds of Prescott’s even breaths fill the room.
SNAKE
My phone buzzes, waking me up from a restless sleep. Rolling over, I grab it as I slide out of bed, quickly swiping the screen to answer.
“Talk to me,” I grunt as I walk out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.
I’m naked as the day I was born, but it doesn’t matter, nobody else is here anyway, and Ginger is passed out asleep.
“We got a few leads. We can’t go in there, not until we get a tip on our phone lines, but I’ll forward you the list of places where I think he could be,” Dougherty, the chief of police announces.
Pulling the phone away from my ear I’m surprised to see that it’s well past two in the morning.
“What are you doing up at this time of morning?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Crime never sleeps, and neither do I. Worked night shift for over twenty years. I can get by on three hours of sleep, and I do,” he murmurs.
“Forward me the list. Me and the boys will get started on it right now,” I growl.
He confirms, and I end the call. I text Free, telling him to get his ass to my house. Then I send out texts to Motorhead and Fish. I want them at my side with this.
The more men I bring out to check these houses, the more chance of getting caught, Motorhead and Fish will get the job done, and without issue.
Making my way back into the bedroom, I quickly change into jeans and a t-shirt, throwing my cut and my socks and boots on as quietly as I can.
Glancing back at Ginger, I’m not surprised to see that she’s still asleep. She’s been sleeping like the dead, and I’m glad for it. She needs her rest.
Leaving her to sleep, I quietly close the door behind me and I hurry downstairs. Free is standing on my porch when I arrive. Opening my door, I let him inside. “You think you got this guy?” he asks.
Laced with Fear (Cash Bar Book 1) Page 20