Caged

by Shanna Ehrlich

  Brax held her tighter and kissed the back of the neck. “Is that the kind of fucked up you were looking for?”

  “Yes, but there is nothing fucked up about what you did. Look at me B.”

  She still had her eyes closed and turned toward him while opening them.

  “He took something from you. Your virtue, your good standing, your innocence. All you did was take from him exactly what he took from you.”

  A tear made its way out and Brax kissed it away. His explanation exactly how she felt when this all happened, and for the past fourteen years she talked herself into believing it was wrong. Even went to school to become a psychologist to gain understanding and possibly acceptance of her actions. Suddenly an enormous weight was lifted off her shoulders.

  “I don’t want you to ever think about that again. Okay? That guy was an asshole and deserved exactly what he got.” He took her face in his hands while she agreed. “Good.” He pecked her on the lips and then walked around to the other side of the table to sit back down.

  After that conversation, their dynamic changed. By jumping in at the worst of it, they seemed to skip right past all the niceties and could just be themselves, as if they knew each other for years.

  “Do you still want to play?”

  “Sure,” she agreed. “So that’s what you meant about going easy on you.” She gave a half-hearted laugh and wiped away the last of her tears.

  B (9 of clubs) < A (10 of diamonds)

  Not knowing how to exactly word her next question, she gave it her best shot. “So, are you in a gang or something?”

  “Or something. I wouldn’t necessarily call it a gang. We’re structured and organized like a gang, but it’s bigger than that.”

  “Well what do you do for them? Are you like a hit man?”

  He smiled at the naivety of her question. “I’m whatever I need to be.”

  “Stop being so coy and actually answer me,” she leaned forward and smacked the tabletop.

  “Ohhh, look at you being feisty now,” he smirked. “I just don’t want to tell you too much. I don’t think you really understand what asking these questions will do.”

  “What does that mean? Like once I know I’m part of the gang too?”

  “No. Fuck no. If you were to become part of the gang we would... Fuck it feels inappropriate saying this now.”

  “No, tell me.”

  He took a deep breath, anxious to explain this part of their initiation. “You would be walking down the street. You wouldn’t know when or where it would happen, but if you wanted to join you would at least know it was coming. It goes down different every time, but basically five masked members would hold you down and rape you. People seem to prefer the term gangbang, but they’re interchangeable. It’s not a pleasant thing and the guys who do it are usually pretty brutal.”

  Annie brought her hands up to cover her mouth and Brax pressed on, eager for her to understand.

  “It sounds harsh, but it’s just how things work to deter fraternization. The girls never know who did it so they don’t want to chance starting a relationship with someone who raped them, and the male members usually lose interest in the females after knowing that’s how they got in. We have to trust each other completely and know everyone is working toward the greater good and not fucking around with each other or developing feelings that could get someone killed later on. Think of it in terms of the military. They don’t let women go into combat with men because men have a protective instinct over women. If you’re under fire, a man might do something stupid to try and save the girl, even though it’s not what’s best for the squad. For us, instead of denying a women access, we simply alleviate the need for the men to feel protective because she’s already damaged. And the girls know what they’re getting themselves into beforehand. We don’t target the innocent, the people who don’t know about us and what we’re about. Does that make sense?”

  It did make sense, and she told him so, but there was now a different question she needed answered. “Have you done it before?”

  “Be careful what you ask me B. I won’t lie to you, and again, I want you to really understand what it means to ask me these questions. You might not like the answers and I won’t let you run away after you find them out.”

  “I don’t care. This is something I need to know.”

  “Why? You’re a smart girl. You already know the answer.”

  “I want to hear it from you. Have you done it before?” she prodded again.

  Braxton was afraid to answer. If he told her too much too fast she would end up hating him, but he couldn’t lie to her either. “Yes. A couple times. In the beginning. And if they knew now I was the one who did it, they would be flattered. It’s like you are rooting for them and telling every other member they’re worthy.” She looked at him dubiously, not understanding how it could be a good thing, but for some reason not scared away either. How fucked up was that? She was more like him than he even knew.

  “Wait, they would be flattered because it was you who did it or because of what it means?”

  “Both, and it has nothing to do with aesthetical reasons. I’m not being conceited. It’s more about power and status. I’ve been in for over twenty years B, and in terms of status, I’m about as powerful as you can get.”

  “What are you telling me right now? That you’re like the Godfather or something?” she laughed.

  “I think you watch too many movies, but yes, something like that. The Godfather is a title reserved for the Mafia, usually Italian or Mexican. I’m not in the Mafia, though I have been known to have a hand in their organization as well at times. The mafia has had so much media attention over the past few decades it’s hard for them to function properly. They are always being watched. I on the other hand, stay under the radar. I have built up a company that is completely clean and I use my money toward charitable donations and city fundraising events. I would never be suspected, which makes me all the more powerful. There is a whole underground world you don’t even know about. I wish I didn’t know, but I do, and it’s who I am. I make no apologies for what I’ve done.”

  Bethany looked at him in shock, suddenly realizing the importance of who she was talking to, or maybe she didn’t get it at all, as she was still sitting there when she should have been out the door. “I don’t want this to change in any way how you think about me. This is how it is on the inside. It works for us. You might not understand, or think we are being unnecessarily violent, but we’re not. There is a reason for it all.”

  Pretending to be shocked and disturbed at what she heard was difficult when on the inside she was enthralled. He was giving her a look into his world, his mind, without realizing who he was talking to. Not to mention she thought it was sexy as hell. There was always something about a bad boy that turned her on. She had to know more. “How did you get into it? What do you do exactly?”

  “We’re done talking about this for tonight. I’ve already told you more than I should.”

  “No you haven’t. You haven’t told me hardly anything,” she complained.

  “I have and I’m not going to change my mind. No more tonight. You won’t bring this up again. I’m respecting you and not trying to bring you home, so I need you to respect me.”

  Brax’s explanation made sense, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment and his serious expression told her she shouldn’t dare say more. He took another sip of his beer, finishing off the contents, and not for the first time, she noticed his muscles, bulging from the sleeve of his shirt; the tattoos dark and prominent. “How many tattoos do you have?”

  “Too many to count. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

  She looked around at the deserted bar. “Show me now. No one’s watching.”

  He debated showing her, it was dangerous to flash his marks, but she was right, they were alone. “Okay. Come here.”

  Pushing up from the table she walked around to sit next to him, the motion of standing cluing her in that she may
have had one too many drinks. Or four. Oh well. Too late now. Sitting on the bench faster than anticipated, she used a hand to brace herself, only realizing after that her palm landed on his upper thigh. He looked down at it as if it were a foreign creature and she pulled back quick. “Sorry.”

  “Hey,” lifting her chin, he brought her eyes to meet his. “What are you sorry for?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged and half laughed. “You looked uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable? I guess that’s a word for it, but don’t ever apologize for touching me. Trust me, you can touch me whenever you want.”

  Annie’s stomach flipped. The way his deep voice sounded when he said she could touch him made her want to do just that. Swallowing, she reached for the hem of his shirt and pushed it up slow, the heel of her hand brushing the length of his chest. He was perfect, flawless. Even sitting down she could see the curves and planes of his abs and had the strangest urge to lick them; to drop to her knees under the table and use her mouth to make love to every inch of his beautiful body.

  The tattoos covered him from the bottom of his rib cage, up his chest, down to his forearms and around his back; hundreds of different symbols, designs, and animals, all black in color. He helped hold the shirt up and she lightly traced the markings with her fingers, never verbally inquiring about their meaning. Her index finger held still over an open fanged mouth of a serpent, marking the center of his chest, directly over his heart.

  “Do you want to know about that one?” he asked and didn’t wait for a reply. “It’s me. Everything on me stems from who I am or what I’ve done, but the serpent, that one in particular is all me. A liar, a deceiver, a schemer—The Devil if you will.”

  “Is that what you really believe?”

  “It’s not what I believe, it’s what I know. You could ask anyone who knows me, they’d say the same thing.”

  Annie looked back down at his chest, gazing at the face, its scaled body wrapped around two crossed axes, and she couldn’t help herself. Leaning forward she kissed it, opened her mouth and dipped out her tongue. She could taste him, not that he had an actual taste, but nonetheless it was there, something hidden underneath the surface. A taste she would never forget.

  Braxton sat frozen, his hands clenching his shirt as he held it up. This was hard for him to watch, hard for him not to pull her up on his lap and use his tongue on her, but he promised he wouldn’t, and he didn’t ever want to break a promise to her.

  “I don’t think this is you,” she pulled back. “You’ve done some bad things, but it’s not who you are. You haven’t lied to me. Deceived me. Schemed against me. Unless you have and I just don’t know?” she raised an eyebrow.

  “I have.” His response took her aback. “In the beginning I did. I would have said just about anything if I thought it was going to get you to go home with me.” He let go of his shirt and she helped pull it back down into place.

  “And now? Are you still trying to get me to go home with you?”

  “Yes. I want you more than words can say.” Unconsciously she looked down, seeing the truth of his statement formed in his pants. “I’ll give you tonight though, but I make no promises for tomorrow.”

  “Like a fucked up version of Cinderella? After midnight you’ll be back to lying and deceiving?”

  “No. No more lies with you B, remember? Not anymore.” He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. “Are you going to stop lying to me too?”

  She was caught. He knew she was lying. Prepared to tell him the truth she looked into his eyes and nodded, but he never asked what she lied about. Maybe he already knew, though she sincerely doubted it. The fake name he could get over, they just met, she could explain why she wrong named him. He’d understand. It wasn’t like he even used the name Bethany, he referred to her all night as B and she made a mental note to ask him about it later. There were other things she was lying about though, one thing in particular, and that would be a deal breaker.

  Giving up on the game they went back inside, stopping at the bar for another shot and made their way to the dance floor. Bethany waved to Trevor and Mandy who were paired together, and to Sara, who was seriously getting down with one of the bar employees, the one who gives out the entry shots. He must have changed into a different shirt, but Braxton still recognized him.

  Parking themselves near her friends he brought her into a close hold, wrapping his arms around her mid-section. Her chin came to rest against his chest and she looked up at him with hooded eyes, like he was the dessert she always wanted. He knew that look, had seen it several times before. If he wasn’t a good guy, he would have left with her right then, would have fucked her raw all night long like he wanted since he first laid eyes on her. And the funny thing was, he wasn’t a good guy. If this were anyone else he’d have no qualms, it happens all the time, that’s what bars are for, but he wanted to be good for her. For once in his piece of shit life he finally found someone he could imagine being with and he wasn’t about to fuck that up.

  Sounds of Snoop Dogg blared through the speakers, but with Bethany in his arms they danced as if it were a Boyz II Men love song, moving their hips in a way that left nothing to the imagination. He wanted to kiss her, the driving force almost too much. With their mouths less than an inch apart, he felt her lean in and had to use all his will power to bypass her lips and plant sweet soft kisses along her neck and shoulder instead. He knew if he actually kissed her, there would be no going back, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he was determined to keep his promise.

  “I want you.” Her tits pressed hard against his chest as she leaned in close to tell him.

  Son of a bitch. How was he supposed to resist this? He let her kiss him when she tried again, a peck on the lips, but he didn’t kiss back, and pushed her gently away when she tried for more. “I think you’re drunk.”

  She didn’t acknowledge his comment. “Take me in the bathroom Brax. You’re so hot. I want you so bad.”

  Turning around she pressed her ass back into him, squatting down and rolling it up his thighs until it met up with his dick. He was hard as a fucking rock, ass literally in front of him, and was turning it down. He was fucking pathetic.

  Walking away from her and toward her friends, he let them know he was taking her back to the hotel and they were welcome to catch a ride. He prayed they would come with. He was a man, he could only hold off for so long, and didn’t want to imagine what would happen if he and Bethany were in his SUV alone. Luckily, Mandy and Trevor both agreed, but Sara was having too much fun dry humping his employee to care they were leaving.

  Placing an arm around Bethany, he began guiding her toward the exit when the DJ’s voice came on letting all the ladies know to dance on the bar for a free shot. He could have killed that fucking DJ. Bethany took off out of his hold and hoisted herself up on the bar top with thirty or so other girls. He had no choice but to watch as she danced, rubbing her hands down her body, only having eyes for him. The seductive moves leaving him hotter than he was before. Crouching down on her knees she leaned her head back as the bartender poured the bottle of blue liquor directly from the spout into her mouth and then she smiled; the prettiest, happiest smile he ever saw, and it was all fucking worth it.

  Five

  A knock at the door awoke Annie from her slumber. It sounded again and she rolled out of bed in nothing but underwear and a long white shirt. Fumbling through the dark room over to the hallway, she flicked the light switch and pulled on a thick robe before answering the door. A man from the hotel, dressed in a black suit awaited her with a rolling table featuring a silver circular tray and a tall lid in the center.

  “Where would you like it miss?”

  Annie was a little dumbfounded. “I didn’t order anything.”

  “Yes, see here?” He handed her the bill. “It was ordered for this room and paid for by credit card already. You didn’t order it?”

  “No, but I’m not going to turn it away. Wheel it in front of the T
V I guess.”

  Trevor, now awake had turned on his bedside lamp. “I hope that’s coffee you ordered.” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stretched with a moan.

  “I don’t know what it is. I didn’t order it.” She lifted the lid and there, on the tray, were four Starbucks cups, one Trenta iced coffee and three Venti Frappuccinos. She stood looking at the tray of Starbucks in shock and then an uncontrollable smile took over her face. “Holy shit, it’s Brax. He sent the coffee.” Picking up her Trenta cup in delight she took a large sip. Trevor rushed out of bed to get to his coffee too.

  “He’s a good man. I knew I liked him,” he said on a moan before taking another sip. “Text Sara and Mandy.”

  As he spoke a text message sounded on her phone. “Speak of the Devil,” she said, walking over to her bedside table, but it wasn’t who she was expecting.

  Braxton Cage:

  Enjoy the coffee B. Thought you might need it. 9:18am

  Her heart sped up. She couldn’t remember being this excited over a text message before. Sitting down on the bed, she crossed her legs like a giddy teenager before replying.

  Thank you! Couldn’t think of any better way to wake up! Trevor says you’re a good man. Lol

  Oh really? I can think of a better way or two to wake up… And tell Trevor he’s not really my type, but I’ll take the vote of confidence. Trying to impress someone else though.

  You know what impresses me? That I have your name and number programed in my phone. When did that happen?

  After I had my way with you. Figured it was the nice thing to do.

  Funny

  I try. You were funny last night too. I have your pants by the way. You left them in the car.

  I did? Oh god. Do I even want to know?

  Probably not. It may have involved some puking.

  OMG! I’m so sorry! 9:21am