Beyond Shame b-1

by Kit Rocha

  Beyond Shame

  ( Beyond - 1 )

  Kit Rocha

  A dangerous world of sex, lust and violence…

  All Noelle Cunningham has ever wanted is a life beyond—beyond the walls of Eden, where only the righteous are allowed to remain, and beyond her stiflingly restrictive existence as a councilman’s daughter. But only ruins lie outside the City, remnants of a society destroyed by solar storms decades earlier.

  The sectors surrounding Eden house the corrupt, the criminal—men like Jasper McCray, bootlegger and cage fighter. Jas clawed his way up from nothing to stand at the right hand of Sector Four’s ruthless leader, and he’ll defend the O’Kane gang with his life. But no fight ever prepared him for the exiled City girl who falls at his feet.

  Her innocence is undeniable, but so is their intense sexual attraction, and soon they’re crossing every boundary Noelle barely knew she had. But if she wants to belong to Jas, first she’ll have to open herself to the gang, and to a world where passion is power, and freedom is found in submission.

  Kit Rocha

  BEYOND SHAME

  Chapter One

  She’d been cast out of Eden and straight into Hell.

  Noelle had never seen anything as menacing as the Sector Four slums at twilight. Back in the city, the buildings were elegant, each carefully planned to fit the aesthetic of those around it, each maintained by silent crews of landscapers and cleaners tasked with making every inch of the city sparkle. Shining towers with crystal windows reflected the endless blue sky, and straight roads intersected at perfect angles.

  Here, in the slums outside Eden, squat, ugly buildings seemed dropped with careless imprecision. The roads followed no logic she could discern. Brick and wood alike were dark with soot from generators spitting smoke into the air. Graffiti covered the walls, lewd curses and symbols she couldn’t begin to decipher. Garbage littered the cracked asphalt and dirt paths, broken glass and suspicious liquids. Noelle swallowed the pain of her ridiculous high heels and picked a careful path toward the end of the street.

  Walking grew more difficult with every step. The military police had thrown her out the gate at the west checkpoint with nothing but the clothes on her back. No money or credits, just a pair of earrings and a colorful party dress she’d bought on the black market, a flashy bit of fabric meant to catch a boy’s eyes.

  It was still catching boys’ eyes. She felt the weight of their gazes as she stumbled, barely catching her balance against the frame of a vendor’s stall. Bright lights strung on wires twinkled above her head. Danced. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. The lights only swam worse, each flaring like a tiny sun trapped in glass.

  Her mouth tasted odd. She touched her earlobe, felt the empty hole. She’d wasted the entire morning and most of the afternoon looking for someone who would trade cash for the glitzy baubles. Finally, one man had taken pity on her and traded a sandwich and a cup of juice for the earrings, laughing as he confided that his wife wouldn’t know real diamonds from fakes.

  Too aware of all the eyes on her, Noelle turned. The little table where she’d devoured her meager meal was around the corner, but the man who’d owned it wasn’t. He was following her. Watching her.

  Laughing.

  Panic surged. Noelle spun and stopped, but the world kept on whirling by. Her ankle buckled and she pitched into a solid wall, a wall that reached out and grasped her arms in a steely grip.

  A man frowned down at her, his gaze sweeping her body. She registered a stern face, dark, flat eyes and a full beard. Tattoos—on his wrists and arms, the kind they taught about in school and whispered about at church socials. The sector gangs, the rough criminals who controlled the slums and waged war on virtue and life.

  She’d been cast into Hell, and he was a demon.

  * * *

  The strange girl in the even stranger dress collapsed in his arms, barely conscious. Jasper shifted her weight to one arm and bared his teeth at the man who’d been following her. “What’s she on?”

  The bastard looked ready to bolt until Ace stepped forward, one hand on his gun. Faced with two men wearing O’Kane ink, the man froze and did the only smart thing—he spilled his guts. “Just drops. Nothing serious.”

  “It’s a piss-poor way to get a date,” Jasper growled. “Dallas won’t like it.”

  The shopkeeper blanched, but he choked out a wheedling defense. “Come on, man. It’s a city bitch on a walk of shame. No one gives a shit.”

  Jasper pushed down his anger, hiding it behind a stony facade. “I give a shit. It might fly in other sectors, but not this one. If you can’t pay for sex, use a little charm. If you don’t have any of that either, keep it in your pants. Otherwise, you might have an accident. A nasty one.”

  Ace slid his thumb along the butt of his pistol. “Or you could have a nasty one now and get it over with.”

  “Fuck.” The man raised both hands in a gesture of retreat and submission as he backed away. “Never again. You got it.”

  Jasper rolled his eyes and turned away, back toward the compound. “He’ll be up to no good before nightfall.”

  “We can have Flash check in on him tonight.” Ace unsnapped a pocket on his vest and slipped out a thin black scanner. “Want me to tell you what you’ve got there?”

  Jasper didn’t want to know. The girl hung limply over his arm, her skin silky and unmarked. Her hair had the sort of sheen that came from regular trips to some city salon, and her fingernails were painted some gentle shade of pink none of Dallas’s women would be caught dead wearing.

  Soft. Everything about her, head to toe, was just soft.

  He sighed and held out her arm. “May as well. We can’t leave her here, can we?”

  Ace slid the scanner over the inside of her wrist, where thin lines of ink formed her identification bar code. The box beeped, the sound somehow both melodious and strident, and Ace whistled through his teeth. “Shit. Maybe we should.”

  “Why, who is she?”

  “That’s a Cunningham. As in Edwin Cunningham, the whackjob councilman who wants to firebomb the sectors like God raining down fire on Sodom and Gomorrah.”

  Terrific. “Well, when she wakes up, we can ask her what the fuck she’s doing on the wrong side of the wall.”

  “Judging by the state of her ID, the twitchy bastard following her was right. She’s flagged as a second offender, all accounts frozen.” Ace frowned. “Locked records, though. Can’t tell what she did to get in trouble.”

  “Jaywalking?” Jasper suggested sourly.

  Ace snorted as he pocketed his scanner. “More likely criminally poor taste. That dress looks like the sort of shit you pawn off on rich fuckheads by telling them it’s pre-Flare vintage.”

  As if her dress mattered a damn. Jasper hefted her over his shoulder with another sigh. “Maybe Lex will know what to do with her.”

  “There are easier ways to get Lex nose-deep in pussy.”

  “Charming, but not what I meant.”

  The market cleared ahead of them. The denizens of Sector Four knew when to duck for cover, and if the military police came through here in an hour, no one would admit to seeing a member of O’Kane’s gang carting a city girl off over his shoulder.

  No one would dare.

  Ace shook his head as they turned off the main street leading out of the market. “That princess over your shoulder? Probably a prissy little virgin. If dragging a stray like her home isn’t about the corruption, it’s not fucking worth it.”

  The insinuation that he couldn’t simply feel sorry for her—that maybe he had to bring home a helpless, unconscious woman to fuck—made Jasper recoil with a frown. “Lex could show her the ropes—we need a new waitress at the club, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, but Dalla
s was going to bump one of the dancers over, maybe hire one of the groupies.” Ace swung in front of Jasper, his dark eyes hard as he blocked the way. “I know you’ve got a soft spot for damsels, brother, but this piece of ass could get you killed. Are you sure you want to go out on this limb just because the girl fell on you?”

  “No, but we can’t dump her in the gutter and hope she makes out all right.” Jasper knew what that was like, being helpless but still left to fend for yourself against shitty odds. “At the very least, she needs time to sober up.”

  “All right.” Ace stepped aside and grinned at him. “Lex is going to kick your ass. You’re not getting head for a month.”

  “S’okay. She bites.”

  “Only if you ask nicely.”

  Chapter Two

  “I can’t believe you did this, you jackass.”

  The words pierced darkness and splintered agony behind her eyes. Noelle groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead, as if she could hold the pieces of her shattered skull together. And it had to be a shattered skull—nothing else would explain the pain knifing through her.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” a gruff voice murmured. “If I’d left her out there—”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” the woman interrupted. “You didn’t do her any favors. Look at her, for Christ’s sake. You should have put her on the first transport out to the communes.”

  Communes. The word dragged her fully out of confused darkness. The communes were horrifying places where farmers lived primitive lives of indentured servitude. No electricity or running water, only backbreaking labor from dawn to dusk and being bred until you died in childbirth. Her father had threatened her with an extended stay on the farms often enough to make her heart seize now. “No,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “No communes.”

  A feminine hand pressed against the back of her neck. “Here, sit up and drink this.”

  Cold water splashed her lips, but hazy memories of the last drink she’d accepted made her pause. But she was parched…and helpless. The numbness of having lost everything melted into a hollow sort of trust, and she parted her lips and drank deeply before speaking. “Thank you.”

  “Sure, honey.”

  The man huffed out a sigh. “Lex—”

  “Forget it.” The woman tipped the cup to Noelle’s lips again. “Let Dallas sort it out. He’s the man in charge, isn’t he?”

  “I called him already.”

  “Good.” Lex set down the cup and snapped her fingers in front of Noelle’s face. “How many fingers?”

  Noelle blinked and focused on the woman’s fingers. “I’m not injured, just confused. Where am I?”

  “Sector Four. The Broken Circle.”

  She’d heard of it. Who hadn’t? The Broken Circle—the heart of sin, the club her friends spoke about in whispers because no one was brave enough to bribe an official for a pass into the sectors. The moonshine that had gotten them all arrested had been taboo enough.

  “O’Kane Liquor,” she whispered, remembering the black-and-white labels affixed to the bottles. “This is where it comes from.” But how had she ended up here?

  “Comes from a warehouse across the compound, actually, but close enough.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m Lex.”

  “Noelle.” The other woman’s hand was soft but strong. She looked tough, even before Noelle struggled to sit up and caught sight of Lex’s clothes—leather boots with stiletto heels and the kind of sleek, skimpy lingerie you couldn’t find in Eden, not unless you bought it under the table from a black-market vendor. Noelle had never seen a person bare so much skin with so little concern, so little shame.

  Lex lifted an eyebrow. “See what I mean, Jas? She’s looking at me like I have two heads.”

  The man frowned—an expression that seemed habitual, if not permanent. “She’s from the city.”

  Now that she was upright, Noelle could see him too. He filled the corner of the room with his bulk, made it seem smaller just with his presence. His clothing was as foreign as Lex’s, everything cut from denim and leather and edged with silver and steel. His forearms were covered with ink, and the dark swaths snapped her disjointed memories into sharp clarity.

  Being thrown from the city by a stone-faced guard.

  The drugged juice and the man following her.

  Stumbling into the arms of a gang member.

  She forced her gaze to his. “You saved me.”

  His eyes widened in a flash of panic. “Uh, no. You fell on me.”

  But he’d caught her. He hadn’t left her in the street, at the mercy of the predators prowling the sectors. He hadn’t hurt her. And the panic in his gaze intrigued her—surely if he was the monster she’d been taught, he’d be eager to accept credit. To twist her gratitude into obligation, and then use that to place lurid, degrading demands on her. The kind she wasn’t supposed to know about.

  He hadn’t done anything of the sort. He’d simply been kind, and that deserved kindness in return. “Thank you for catching me.”

  Lex covered her face with her hands and mumbled something under her breath.

  The door slammed open hard enough to send Noelle’s heart rocketing into her throat. A slightly older man stepped through, clad in a leather vest that bared tattooed arms, and pinned her rescuer with an irritated look. “Jasper, you’re a pain in my ass.”

  He rose. “Come on, Dallas. You would’ve done the same damn thing.”

  “God willing, we’ll never know.” He leveled a finger at Noelle, the gesture somehow menacing and exasperated. “Three questions. You’ll answer them honestly or I’ll boot your ass back into the street.”

  She’d fared badly out there before, so Noelle laced her fingers together to hide their trembling. “Honest answers,” she promised.

  “Good.” He flicked up one finger. “Is your father motherfucking Edwin Cunningham?”

  Shame heated her cheeks even as pain sank claws in her chest. “Yes. Though he’s probably already filing the paperwork to have me officially severed from the family.”

  A grunt. Dallas held up a second finger. “Your ID shows two offenses. What’d you get arrested for?”

  Oh, no. She couldn’t admit it in front of Lex, and certainly not in front of her rescuer. Jasper. Humiliation joined the mix of emotions churning in her middle as she stared at the floor and forced herself to answer. “Possession and consumption of alcohol and—” The word froze on her tongue. She had to whisper it. “Fornication.”

  Silence. Then Lex shook her head with a disgusted snort. “Bunch of dickless bastards.” She turned on Dallas, her shoulders squared. “She can stay with me until she gets on her feet.”

  “That’s the third question. Look at me, Noelle Cunningham.” Compelled by his voice, she lifted her gaze to his. He had steely eyes, seductive and overpowering at once, and she had to fight to focus on his words. “Do you want me to put you on a bus out to the communes right now? If not, the best I can offer you is a week’s probation under Lex. I’m not taking a poor little rich girl from Eden into this gang until I know she can handle it. So do you want a week of training, or do you want the bus?”

  Two choices. Two lives. The farms would wear down her body. They had fertility drugs there, the kind that counteracted the contraceptives administered in Eden to prevent overpopulation. Resources were precious in the city—in the communes, babies were resources. Fornication wasn’t a sin there, but sex was only acceptable as a means of making more strong bodies to work the land and make the farm owners rich. In Eden, they called it noble work. Honorable. Toil for the body to enrich the spirit, surely deserving of eternal reward.

  None of the things that might happen to her body in the sectors would enrich her spirit. The gangs outside Eden knew a thousand ways to sin, and—according to Noelle’s father—ten thousand ways to secure a place in Hell.

  If she were righteous, there’d be only one possible choice.

  If she were righteous, she’d still be in Eden. “I don’t wan
t to go to the communes.”

  “Fine.” Dallas pointed at Lex. “She gets full fucking disclosure. If she’s not willing to tend bar, clean house, or suck dick by the end of the week, she’s gone.”

  “Fuck you,” Lex shot back pleasantly.

  “Hop on my cock anytime, love.” He jabbed his finger at Jasper. “You, out. There’s a shipment over at the warehouse that needs your attention.”

  “I’m on it.” Jasper hesitated. “If she needs anything—”

  “She won’t,” Lex interjected. “Now get out.” When the door slammed behind him, Lex dropped to a chair across from Noelle. “You hanging out for all the gritty details, Dallas? I know you get off on it.”

  Dallas raked his gaze over them in a way that made Noelle think perhaps he was imagining them both naked—and enjoying it. He grinned slowly as he hauled open the door. “Another time. Have Ace fill in her bar code, but no cuffs. Not until she makes it through the week.”

  He snapped the door shut behind him, and Noelle let out a breath and tried to meet Lex’s eyes without flinching. “You must all think I’m a ridiculous, naïve fool.”

  “Of course you are.” Lex leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “You’re from the city. They won’t let you be anything else.”

  No judgment, at least, and maybe even a little sympathy. “I tried to be something else. That probably makes me more of a fool.”

  “Only if you thought it’d work.” Lex pulled a small etched silver case from her boot. “Not many rules. First one is, the group means more than anything. We survive because we stick together—no exceptions. If you join up, it won’t be a free ride, but it’ll be a good one.”

  Tend bar, clean house, or suck dick. Noelle stared down at her brightly patterned dress and traced a finger over one swirl. A dark craving dug its hooks into her as the fantasy formed, one where she wasn’t responsible for the filthy things they commanded her to do. Surely it couldn’t be a sin if she didn’t have a choice. “I’d have to give them all sex?”