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Tied

Page 13

by KB Winters


  “Yeah, it’s me.” There was no point being angry anymore. I mean, I was furious, but he’d already gotten more than he deserved as far as I was concerned.

  “Baby girl.” He leaned forward as if he could reach out to me. Instantly, one of the men slammed him back against the chair.

  “I’m so sorry.” His words were cut off by a half-assed smack from Eugene.

  “You’re a sorry fucking excuse for a father, that’s what you are!” Eugene’s voice took on the tone of a much younger man, firm and angry.

  “You didn’t give me a choice,” Homer insisted, staring up at Eugene with something other than fear in his eyes for the first time. Now there was anger there, too.

  “We always have a choice, Homer. Your need to win simply overrode your need to protect your daughter, and I took advantage.”

  He looked so fucking proud of himself it made me sick.

  “Neither of you will ever have to worry about winning person of the year award.”

  They were both two different types of garbage as far as I was concerned. I shook my head, disgusted at both of them and the fact that this is where I ended up, a bad fucking cliché, and it was through no fault of my own. It wasn’t because I fell for the wrong man or followed him down the wrong path. Nope, I just got stuck between two warring dumbasses.

  Lucky me.

  “I’m fine with that.” Eugene turned to me with a lecherous look in his eyes, smoothing down his grayish-blue suit as if preparing for a suitor.

  “You will stay here until we’re married,” he said as if that was the end of the discussion. “It could have been a nice ceremony with a beautiful dress and a nice honeymoon, but since we have to do it like this, you’ll deal with it.”

  Ah, there it was. The reason we were all gathered here today. It took me about half a second to decide if I should keep the marriage to myself or let him know. It was clear, Homer hadn’t told him, or else he wouldn’t be putting on such a show. In the end, my need to let this fucker know I had bested him, if only temporarily, won out.

  “Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m already married. Been a newlywed for about a month now.”

  Goddamn, it felt good to shit all over his plans like that, but I knew that didn’t mean I was free to go. “I would show you the ring but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.” Yeah, it felt really fucking good.

  For a split second.

  The gleam in his cloudy eyes darkened as storm clouds gathered. His lips curled into a semblance of what was supposed to be a smile, but it came off more like a psychotic grimace as he walked towards me until we were face to face once again. His breath smelled of cigar smoke and garlic, and I had to suppress the urge to vomit, knowing that wouldn’t go over well with his fragile ego. Gramps was a full blown psycho.

  My goal now was to piss him off enough that he didn’t do anything stupid, but not so much that he killed me before help arrived. If it arrived at all.

  “That’s really too bad, Hennessy. I would’ve enjoyed breaking in a young woman with your fire.”

  His hand cupped my face and then my neck just so the sick bastard could make sure I saw the heat and desire in his eyes.

  Eww.

  “I guess now I’ll have to figure out another way for you and Homer to pay the debt you owe.”

  He sent me a terrifying look, truly fucking terrifying. I sent a prayer up to anyone who might be listening, to send Cruz and his boys fast and armed.

  And definitely before Eugene’s creativity kicked in.

  I only had a vague idea of the things Eugene and his crime family did, so I had no idea of just how creative he could get and I didn’t want to stick around to find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cruz

  “Anything yet?”

  My question went out to no one in particular. Hell, I didn’t even really expect an answer, but asking made me feel like I was doing something to help Hennessy.

  “Not since the last time you asked, man. Peaches is upstairs diggin’ as fast as she can. Says, if you ask her one more question, she’s turning in for the night.”

  Holden’s deep Texas twang had an oddly soothing effect and I nodded, looking around the room at everyone who sat with me. Worried with me.

  “Saint and Slayer back yet?”

  Gunnar had sent them out to do some recon, to see if we could easily find where McArthur’s men would have taken Hennessy. The problem, we learned, was that Route 9 was massive as fuck with at least a dozen different exits that led to at least that many other plots of land. Some were abandoned and some were occupied, but not all were occupied legally, which meant we could be in for a hell of wait.

  And that really fucking sucked because it had already been a hell of a wait.

  “If they were, Slayer would be in here flirting, eating, and taking all the credit,” Gunnar assured me with a weary smile.

  “Shit. Sorry.” This waiting shit was driving me crazy. It was just like the military all over again, waiting for orders, waiting for instructions or directions, and feeling helpless because I couldn’t do shit when it really mattered. “Why am I going so crazy?”

  “Sounds to me like you might actually like Hennessy.” Aspen sat on the sofa beside Holden, stroking his hair even as she looked at me with a mischievous smirk on her face. “Would that be so terrible?”

  “It wouldn’t, but that’s not what this is. I feel responsible, that’s all. I told her I’d take care of her and keep her away from that fucker, and I failed. I fucked up.”

  “Duh,” she said and shook her head. “That’s what love is. You want to keep her safe because you vowed to.”

  “Promised,” I corrected her and stood, going to the window in search of even a hint of headlights that would indicate Slayer and Saint were back. With news.

  “Tomato, Tom-ahto,” Aspen shot back with a defiant grin. “You’ll figure it out,” she sang just as my phone rang.

  It was Hennessy.

  “Hen. Where are you?” My heart pounded at the silence on the other end of the line. As pissed off as I felt and despite what the evidence said, I hoped Hennessy had just gotten distracted with a sale or something equally minor. Safe. Benign.

  “Hen?”

  A deep laugh sounded, loud and booming down the line at first. After a few seconds the asshole with the maniacal laugh spoke.

  “Wrong. This ain’t your precious Hennessy. Nope,” he said, letting the ‘P’ pop dramatically on his lips for emphasis. “She’s on her knees getting ready to do exactly what a girl like her is meant to. Her wifely duties.”

  He laughed again, this time putting even more crazy into it, just in case I was operating under the assumption that this asshole was sane.

  “Lay one goddamn hand on her, and I will fucking kill you and everyone you hold dear.”

  He laughed again. “Who? You and your pussy bikers with your matching sashes?”

  This time laughter roared out of him. Now I wasn’t just pissed off, I was insulted. My hands balled into fists as the fucker kept right on talking and laughing, all the while I listened to any sounds that might help me figure out where he was. More importantly, where Hennessy was.

  “You gotta find us first, and you better do it fast before your whore is sold off to some overseas brothel. They love pale ass white women over there.”

  He left me with those disgusting thoughts and his psychotic laugh before hanging up.

  My hand clenched and unclenched in anger while the other had a death grip on the phone, my mind reeling as I stared off into space, picturing Hennessy as she probably was now. Terrified, probably already a little battered if McArthur was the kind of man I thought he was.

  I could only hope that Hennessy fought just enough to keep herself alive before we found her, because I knew for damn sure that we would. We had to. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person I could have saved. Should have fucking saved.

  A soft feminine hand slid along the length of my forearm, gently extricatin
g the phone from my grip. I looked up quickly, heart pounding with the unrealistic hope that it was Hennessy’s touch. It wasn’t, of course, it was Peaches.

  “I think you kept him on the line long enough if that’s any consolation,” she said with an uneasy smile.

  “This is her phone, right?”

  I nodded, but Peaches was already on the floor in the middle of the living room with her legs crossed and covered by a laptop, my phone in her hands with a plug coming out of its ass.

  “Perfect. We can find her phone. I put the app on when we went out to lunch a few weeks ago.”

  Peaches flashed a smile at her own genius, and I made a note to get her something expensive and geeky as fuck for helping me save Hennessy.

  “Of course you did. I’m just glad you’re on our side.”

  “Lucky thing I am with the trouble you guys always seem to find.” Her lips twitched at the irony of her statement. “Good thing for us that you guys are all heroes.”

  I barked out a bitter laugh at that, not feeling all that heroic at the moment. “I think you mean we all have a hero complex.”

  Peaches shrugged. “All that matters is that you’re there when someone needs you. Like now,” she said and turned her attention back to the screen in front of her.

  “Here, drink this.” Holden held a short glass half-full with amber liquid in front of my face.

  “What is it?”

  “White Zinfandel, what the fuck do you think it is?” The glass remained where it was, waiting for me to take it. “Whiskey.”

  I took the glass and knocked it back in one short, calming, fire-inducing shot. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. We’ll find her.” Holden’s stoic certainty was comforting, but I also knew it was likely bullshit, just as he knew. That was the shit part about war. There were always people who didn’t make it back. There was always collateral damage.

  “I know,” I said. I knew we’d find her. Because I would scour every fucking inch of Opey and beyond until I found her.

  “I’m just worried about what shape she’ll be in when we finally get to her.”

  I couldn’t fucking stand the thought of that asshole ruining Hennessy, taking away her ability to live a normal healthy life. I didn’t want her to become a victim of a different kind of war.

  “You care about her.”

  His words came out easily, not a question and not an accusation. There was a bit of surprised amusement, but I let it go since he was trying to help.

  “We’ll get her back here and give you another chance to screw things up,” he said and clapped me on the back twice as hard as he needed to.

  I smiled up at him and flipped him the bird. “You always say the sweetest things to me, Holden.”

  But secretly, I hoped he was right. I hoped when we found Hennessy, she was okay, that nothing more than a day of rest and pampering could cure. Then maybe, just maybe, I might get a chance to figure out why the fuck my heart was beating out of my chest. Why I felt the need to fuck some shit up.

  Holden barked out another laugh and clapped me on the back before he refilled my glass to the halfway mark. “Same thing Aspen always says to me, except it sounds much sexier when she says it.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell her you said so,” I deadpanned.

  “Asshole,” he grinned and took the glass from my hands, setting it on the nearest table. “Come one, I know just what will get your mind off things.”

  “Yeah?” Because I would love to hear what fucking magic porno trick would accomplish that feat in the moment.

  “Yeah. We’re going to the armory to pick out what we’re gonna use on these assholes when we find ’em.”

  I stopped and smiled because it was the only damn thing that stood a chance in hell of cheering me up. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Hennessy

  “Hennessy, you have to believe me, baby girl. I never planned for any of this to happen.” Homer sat bent over his chair, face bruised and bloody, with guilty eyes on me.

  I wished I could have sympathy for the pitiful figure he made, slumped over a chair as all of his bad decisions finally came down on him. And me.

  “Yeah? What exactly did you mean when you added me to the pot in the first damn place?”

  He let out another one of those sorry-ass sighs, the one that had me and Mom forgiving him every time he gambled away the rent money or stole the few dollars set aside for my field trip fees. Always, we forgave him.

  “The hand was mine.”

  “Except it wasn’t. You can’t ever be sure until the cards are flipped over or was another bullshit lesson?”

  He’d taught me all about poker, every variety from Texas Hold ’em to draw and stud, even Omaha. I knew them all.

  “I know you’re angry at me. But I truly am sorry, baby girl.”

  “I know, Homer.” I knew he was sorry, now that the proverbial chickens had come home to roost. Right now I had bigger issues, like the crazy old man who had some dark plans for me, and the biker who might or might not come to my rescue. “I know.”

  He nodded and turned away just as the only door I could see opened and Eugene walked inside, his favorite henchman at his side.

  “Hennessy. I hope you’ve had some time to think about your attitude. I haven’t decided what to do with you, yet, but several options are on the table.”

  An unconscious shiver stole through me at his words, because I didn’t need to be the Law & Order expert that I was to know I wouldn’t appreciate any of those options. Never mind the fact that I didn’t believe Eugene at all. The man was a gangster, a criminal and worse, he was a goddamn snake.

  “I think I’ve been pretty fucking calm since I was kidnapped.”

  He let out a low chuckle at first that gained steam as he carried on laughing like he was auditioning to be a villain in a comic book movie.

  “You’ve got spunk, I’ll give you that. Stupid, but you’ve got spunk.”

  The henchman stayed behind Eugene as he made his way over to Homer first, turning and yanking his chair until it faced me.

  “I guess you inherited your stupid from this one.”

  “I’m not the one who accepted a bet from someone who couldn’t pay it back.” It wasn’t smart to taunt him, but at this point, did I really have anything to lose?

  “Maybe not,” he said with a sneer. “But all that matters is that I have you right where I want you.”

  I felt, more than saw, the moment his intent changed. It went from dark and angry to dark and something else, something that made me shiver with disgust. Fear? Evil?

  Eugene grew bored quickly with Homer and ambled toward me, his angry-looking muscle man looming behind him menacingly.

  “Nothing to say to that?”

  Not really. “You have me where you want me. For now.”

  The old fucker better enjoy it while he could, because as soon as I was free I’d beat the holy fuck out of him until he was dead.

  He let out a rusty old laugh and kept walking until he was close enough to block the chill that puckered my nipples through my t-shirt and covered my skin in goosebumps. Eugene’s gaze settled on my nipples, and he licked his lips as one hand went to my thigh, stroking slowly.

  “You make an excellent point. I might as well enjoy you while I can.”

  His hand was slow and shaky as it slid up my thigh, stopping when a knobby knuckle brushed against my pussy.

  Thankfully, the thick denim seam dulled his touch. “Don’t touch me!”

  Eugene only laughed harder, like it was all some big damn joke.

  “Oh, I’ll touch you as much as I like. You are mine after all.”

  “No. I’m. Not.”

  It was useless to struggle but I couldn’t help it, my body wouldn’t let me do anything but fight against his touch, against his bad intent for me.

  “Not yet,” he snarled angrily and let his hand slide up past my pussy, up over my hips to cup my waist.

  �
��But goddamn, my cock aches to slide into that tight young pussy of yours.”

  Eugene’s words were punctuated by the clumsy way he squeezed my tits, like they were stress balls.

  “And fuck me, these tits. Tight and perky, just how a nice pair of tits should be.”

  I closed my eyes tight against his assault, continuing to jerk and squirm away from his touch that made me want to puke. I kept moving around, making it hard for him to cop a feel, but the old fucker was determined, squeezing my tits like chew toys and pinching my nipples with a nasty old man groan.

  “Oh fuck!” His hand flew across the right side of my face. “I had big fucking plans for you Hennessy! I would have given you the world for the price of entry into that sweet cunt of yours.”

  Shit! Okay, so the old man did have enough fire to get a good slap going because, holy fuck that hurt.

  “Fucker!” I blurted out.

  “Exactly!” Eugene stepped closer and put his hands on my waist before he leaned in and pulled my nipple with his mouth, sucking it wet through the fabric of my t-shirt.

  Oh my God. I wanted to puke.

  “No! Stop!” I squirmed and twisted at my waist, flailing my legs in every direction until the perverted old fucker had no choice but to step back.

  “I. Said. No.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. The sound was raw and goddamn terrifying.

  “It really is too bad you decided to run. We could have had a lot of fun together.”

  If I didn’t mind banging a decrepit old mobster for the rest of my life, which didn’t sound all that fun.

  “It’s really too bad you can’t get a woman the old fashioned way.”

  Anger flashed, and he stepped forward. “The old fashioned way? That’s what you want?”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t as fear struck me cold at the look in his eyes. Eugene leaned in and pulled out a knife that he slid under the hem of my t-shirt, letting the cool metal touch my skin every now and again just because he could. When he reached the neckline, the knife cut through the t-shirt like butter and it hung open, showing off my red and white bra.

 

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