She collapsed on top of him, not having the effort to move anywhere else.
“What the fuck,” he breathed in her ear. “Holy shit.”
“Is that a good thing?” she found the energy to look up.
“Fuck yeah that’s a good thing. Jesus,” he took her face in his hands and kissed her, exhaling heavy. “It’s never been that good. I feel like I’ve been missing out.”
Laughing, she rolled off him, but kept a leg atop of his. “Maybe you have,” she mumbled into his sweat-glazed chest and then corrected herself. “Maybe we have.”
Laying in sated silence, his fingers traced circles on the small of her back.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she finally spoke.
“When have you not been able to ask me a personal question?” he joked. “You can ask me anything you want. You know that.”
“Okay. How many women have you been with?”
Braxton groaned and threw an arm over his face. “Is that really what you want to know right now?” He turned his head to look at her. “Too many. I don’t keep track and trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“A hundred?” she continued to question.
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
“Brax,” she whined his name, needing a better answer and then stated the obvious. “You didn’t use a condom. That’s what I was trying to tell you when you rudely bent me over the SUV.”
“Rudely? I think you liked it,” he leaned forward to nip at the top of her breast and then looked up, holding her face between his palms. “I’ll never use a condom with you B. You’re mine. All mine. I don’t want anything between us.”
“And what about the other girls? Did you not use anything with them either?”
Understanding rolled through him. She wasn’t jealous of the other girls, was worried about them, wondering if he was clean. “Always. Well, there may have been a few slips back in the day, but I haven’t had my dick uncovered in years. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“And what about me? You didn’t worry if I was clean?”
“No. I didn’t. You’ve only been with two people. Didn’t seem like something I needed to worry about. Why? Is there something else you need to tell me?”
“No, of course not,” she slapped at his arm and he grabbed her hand, rolling on top to pin her to the mattress.
“I don’t think it’d even matter. You could tell me you have this terrible STD that’s going to kill me in a few years and I wouldn’t care. I’ve gotta die sometime. If you were going to die of an STD, then I’d die too. Happily. I won’t live without you.”
Annie held her breath. His words were intense. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Crazy for you. Always crazy for you.”
“And what if I told you I had an STD that was going to make your dick fall off? How would you feel about that?”
He laughed and rolled off of her. “Now that might be an issue, but I think you like my dick too much to let that happen. What would you do without it for the rest of our lives?”
Annie was speechless. The rest of their lives? She was only thinking about the rest of the night. The next day and days after weren’t even on her radar. The sex hadn’t changed anything. She was going back home. Alone. He didn’t know her name or where she lived. It’s not like he could chase after her.
Instead of explaining, once again, she wasn’t planning to be with him and undoubtedly start another fight, she decided to make light of his comment. “I don’t know. I seemed to do pretty well in the car with my hands. Maybe I’d just continue using those.”
“Your hands are not the same thing,” he scoffed. “Even if you used something else to fill your pussy, it’s different. It’s biological in nature to want my cum inside you. Your body gets off on it and you can’t even help it.”
She gulped. He was talking about getting her pregnant. And speaking of that. “Brax.”
“What?”
“Who told you about the baby?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling, the flat white paint smooth and impeccable, her fingers gripping the comforter.
“Sara. At the party after you left.”
“That fucking bitch.” She sat up, taking a pillow to cover herself and Brax followed.
“I don’t think she meant to say it. I was mad. She was giving excuses why I shouldn’t be.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“It was my story. I should have been the one to tell you. Not her.”
Brax reached for her hand and held tight, but didn’t respond.
“Are you upset I didn’t tell you?”
“No. I know you well enough to know you still have secrets.” He pressed his lips against her shoulder, letting them linger before pulling away. “I wish you told me, but I understand why you didn’t and,” he breathed in deep. “I’m sorry I ever brought it up. I was angry, but it was wrong to throw it out at you like that. Forgive me?”
“Always,” her lips curved up as she gave him a soft, quick peck. “Hey babe.”
He looked up at her, those once black eyes back to their subtle chocolate brown.
“Don’t ever fucking apologize again. It makes you look weak, and my man is not weak.”
Her comment made his face brighter than she’d ever seen, a dimple in his cheek exposed from his wide grin. He actually looked happy. “Did you just call me babe?”
“I did.”
“Good. I liked it.”
Getting up from the bed, he walked to his dresser, opening the drawer to pull out a fresh pair of boxer briefs. Stepping into them, he opened a second drawer, stacked to the brim with laundered, white, undershirts, and threw one her way.
She pulled it on and he strolled over to the mahogany bar top, pouring them both a drink, it was much needed. When he turned back she was walking away from him, the curve of her cheeks peeking out beneath the hem of his shirt. It was sexy as fuck and he stood still admiring.
When the bathroom door closed, he took a long swig from the amber liquid, swirling it around his mouth. Walking to the entryway, he flicked on the light switch and then crossed the room to close the drapes; thick curtains to keep out the morning sun which would be making its appearance in a few short hours.
Ambling downstairs, he made his way to the kitchen, needing to access his stash of cigarettes when the chime of a phone announced itself. It wasn’t his phone, it must have been hers. Flicking on another light, he found her purse by the elevator, coins and bills spilt on the floor. He picked up the light black bag and gathered the money before pulling out her phone to take it upstairs. He didn’t mean to look; wasn’t trying to pry, but the message was lit up bright across the screen.
Trevor:
Call me back Annie. I just woke up and you’re not here. Kinda worried. 2:56 AM
The phone almost fell from his hands. What did he call her? He looked back down and the screen had gone black. Pushing the circle on the front of the phone, the message icon popped up again. Annie. He called her Annie. Sara called her that too. The memory of them on the couch flashed in his mind. Another memory followed, something he didn’t want to remember and he blinked his eyes tight, pushing it away. Now he really needed that cigarette.
Dropping the phone back in the purse, he headed into the kitchen still thinking about the name he saw. Annie. Was it something her friends called her?
Opening the freezer where he kept his stash, he decided he would ask, didn’t really care if she thought he was snooping through her phone. “Hey B,” he called over his shoulder. “Your phone just went off. Come answer it and share a smoke with me.” There was no answer and he called out for her again. “B! Get your sexy ass down here.”
Still no response.
He took the stairs two at a time, worry suddenly settling, but when he pushed open the bedroom door he found her asleep under the covers, his white shirt tossed on the floor. He smiled and tapped off the light, but before head
ing back downstairs, he took out her phone, responded to Trevor’s text, and set the purse on the bar cabinet.
With Braxton. Safe. Don’t wait up. 2:59 AM
Braxton found a lighter and strolled over to open the tall french doors, leading to the outside terrace. He lit the cigarette and stood at the railing, taking deep drags and thinking about all the fucked up things he’d done in his life, everything but her. And to think, he almost let her get away. If it wasn’t for that little prick ratting him out, tonight never would have happened. She’d be back in Michigan by now, moving on with her life, and he’d still be wallowing in his misery. He couldn’t believe his luck. Everything was different now. There were still unanswered questions, but they could all be worked out in the morning. He’d help her work them out. They could make a life together wherever they wanted. Cole would have a conniption when he found out, but it didn’t matter. Nothing in the world mattered to him except for her. He loved her. It was a strange thing to admit. He wasn’t looking for love. Hadn’t loved anyone in a long time. Not since his mom. Once upon a time he thought he loved Cole. He was like a father to him. He would have done anything for him, but years of adulthood have taught him it was more infatuation, than love. He looked up to him, wanted to be him. Now it all seemed so stupid. Bethany was different though. He felt his feelings for her deep in his gut. It was like being punched. It hurt, but at the same time it gave him something to live for, to fight for, and he wanted more; wanted to be punched over and over again. Cole always told him never to fall in love. Love was a measure of weakness. They can’t hurt you if they have nothing to hurt you with. In theory Cole was right. He sure as hell was weak now. He’d give it all up for her; everything he’s worked for, what the Emmo has worked for. He’d tell their enemies all their secrets if it meant keeping her safe.
Stubbing out the cigarette he made his way to bed, turning off the lights and walking upstairs. He closed the bedroom door and then pushed down his boxers and walked over to his side of the bed. His side, the foreign idea made him smile.
Crawling in next to her he cuddled close. Not realizing he had another round in him, his cock began to swell. Lifting her leg to gain better access he woke her the only acceptable way and slid inside. She tensed, raw from their previous rounds, but let him continue. He took his time, going slow and gentle, making love to her. It was a first for him. The tender rocking was different than what he was used to, but still felt good, like a massage, relaxing him from head to toe. He held on to her tight, never wanting to let go. After they both orgasmed some time later, they drifted off to sleep, but his hold on her stayed firm.
Part Two
“The definition of darkness is the absence of light. You cannot see darkness. Darkness cannot exist without light. Darkness cannot be explained. Darkness only comes when everything else has gone. Darkness is nothing, then darkness is everything.”
Author unknown
Fourteen
PRESENT DAY
Kari struggled with her makeup as the van bounced along the uneven pavement. She dipped the thick, bristled brush into the layer of powder resting in the lid and it spilled as they hit another bump in the road; her eyes shooting daggers toward Bruce while he continued driving forward, oblivious to her hardships. He just didn’t get it. His job was easy. Hide behind the camera and press play. He could wear pajamas and no one would be the wiser, but not her, she had to get up at four every morning, put on full dress attire, make sure her curly, brown hair was in pristine condition and then race to work where the station groomer would apply her makeup before the cameras started rolling. Not today though, the call came through right as she sat in the chair. Her best friend’s brother, one of the COs for the prison, often leaked news to her, but nothing as important as this. She jumped from the chair mid eye shadow application and ran, calling Bruce on the way to tell him to bring the van around front. They needed to be first on the scene and every news crew in the city would be racing to get there once they heard. This was going to break her career. No doubt her news director would feed the coverage to their affiliate in New York City. Her face would be seen throughout the state, maybe even throughout the country. She had to look perfect.
Their station logoed, white van pulled up to the security gate just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get access, but she’d figure it out. She always did.
“Can I help you?” the guard asked, gun in hand. He was on high alert. He knew.
“We’re here to cover the murder of Colton King,” Bruce told the man.
“I can’t let you pass sir. I’m under strict orders. No one in or out.”
Kari leaned forward toward the driver’s side window. “Call the Warden. Let him know Kari Cruz from CBS is here for an interview. He can break the news himself or I’m going to do it for him, right here outside the prison. I have my source. I go live with what I know in five minutes.”
The guard holstered his pistol and walked back in the booth. Kari watched him place the call. His face hard and rigid, he nodded against the handset several times before walking back over to them, holding a visitor’s tag. “The Warden will meet you out front of the visitor’s center. You can set up there.”
The security arm blocking their way slowly rose as the guard announced their admittance through his walkie and they drove forward. Kari was ecstatic yet surprised the Warden let them through. She didn’t think it would be that easy, but then again, once she goes live, every reporter in the country will be there. If he gives a statement now, he avoids having to do it in front of hundreds of other reporters with a slew of unwanted and presuming questions.
Bruce parked in the empty lot and they set up the shot in a large patch of grass with the looming, grey prison in the background. Superintendent Dan Arts met them as promised, shaking hands with Kari and introducing himself. She was expecting an overweight, old, bald man, but what she got was quite the opposite. He was tall, thin and had a bit of a receding hairline, but not hideous under any circumstances.
“I’d ask how you found out, but I’m guessing you won’t give up your source.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Kari smiled apologetically. “But I appreciate you taking the time to give me this interview.”
Bruce came over, handing Arts a lavalier. They threaded the wire through the back of his shirt and he clipped it to his lapel.
“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” he said while hooking the mic box to the back of his pants.
“No, I didn’t, but if it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else, and trust me, you don’t want someone else. I’m going to let you tell the story your way.”
“And why would you do that?” he leaned in to ask, turning his back toward Bruce in an attempt to give them the semblance of privacy.
“Because you’re going to give me exclusives on any new information that breaks on this case. I know Attica’s had a bit of a PR problem recently with three of your guards being accused just last month of inmate abuse. One little mention of that is going to make things much harder for you.”
“Blackmail’s not very becoming of you Miss Cruz, not to mention illegal. I’ve seen your newscasts before, I guess you’re not the sweet innocent reporter you make yourself out to be.”
“I’m whatever I need to be to get the story. If I were sweet and innocent right now, you’d walk all over me. I can’t let that happen. And I’m not blackmailing you, I’m being honest. If I don’t get exclusives, I’ll need to give my viewers something else, something that could easily be very true.”
Dan considered his options. If he gave the girl what she wanted, he could at least control the story, keep it in his favor. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if the Emmo inmates found out one of his guards had something to do with Cole’s death, and not just in Attica, but prisons across the country. As it was, the news was sure to cause unease between the rivaling gangs. Assumptions will be made, and the Emmo will likely start preparing for w
ar. Dan didn’t want that war to be directed toward prison guards or any of the officials outside the prison walls.
“You have a deal Miss Cruz.” He took out one of his cards from his back pocket and handed it forward. “Call my secretary and have her schedule a meeting for us once a week. I’ll give you an update on what I know and you’ll run with it exactly as I instruct.”
Kari accepted the card. “Good. Let’s start then.”
Bruce set the camera on Kari. It was a one person, close up shot. He just wanted her for now. Her soft Hispanic features against the hard backdrop of the prison were sure to entice viewers.
“This is Kari Cruz reporting live from Attica correctional facility where as of five thirty-two this morning, Colton King was pronounced dead. Most may remember Colton King from his highly publicized trial where he was sentenced to life in prison for three counts of murder in the first degree, drug trafficking and extortion. Today marked the ten-year anniversary of his conviction.
“Colton King, also known as Cole, was suspected of being the leader of a New York mob called the Em Oh Three. This mob is known for its clandestine affairs, but is one of the largest mobs in the New York City area with an estimated ten thousand members. The Em Oh Three has kept themselves relatively hidden from the public, but we fear that may stop today.
“Attica Superintendent Dan Arts is here to fill us in on the details. First off, how did this happen? Was it intentional?”
The camera zoomed out, widening the shot to include Arts, arms crossed over his chest and then moving down to his sides.
“Yes, Colton King’s death was intentional. It happened in the shower stalls where we do not have cameras and the guard on duty was dealing with a separate fight that broke out, possibly to distract him from what we believe to be a skillfully thought out murder.”
Caged Page 31