by J. Kearston
“So, my gorgeous roommate,” Stryker starts, reaching into the small bag he brought with him, missing the mark at subtlety by a mile. “I was out and about today when I saw this and couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect it would look on you.” He dramatically winks, so proud of himself.
Rolling my eyes and chuckling, I let him have it, because there really isn’t anyone around for it to matter much. “Oh?”
When he pulls it out, reaching across Mason to present it to me, my breath hitches in my chest as I look on, speechless. I expected a ring after all of their claims, but this is so much more. Completely silver, the ring is an ouroboros, three thin chains attached to drape over the back of the hand and connecting the bracelet made of two intertwined snakes.
Treating it like it’s made of glass, I lift it reverently from the box. “It’s perfect,” I murmur, tracing a finger over the insane amount of detail. “It must have cost a fortune.”
As Mason helps me fasten it in place, Stryker strums his fingers over the table. “Nah, it was a steal. It’s okay, then? I know it’s not what you might have been anticipa-“
“I love it, almost as much as the three of you.”
Mason’s hands still on my unlatched bracelet, and I freeze as my words catch up to me. Swallowing, I keep my attention on my wrist like a coward, and after a heavy beat of weighted silence, Mason finishes fastening it.
Tilting my chin up with a finger to face him, onyx hair hanging haphazardly and obscuring his bright blue eyes, he holds me captive in his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed to say it. Fuck, Risa, a part of us has been in love with you since before you first woke up. And once you did?” He clucks his tongue and winks. “All I’m saying is the sex was so good it had me proposing.”
Chuckling, I’m saved from responding as our food arrives. As soon as the waitress leaves, Stryker reaches over to snatch a piece of bacon off of Bane’s plate. “Seriously, babe, no need to be shy.” He takes a massive bite before continuing, muffled, “Hell, if it wasn’t for the fact you three insist on discretion, I’d scream it from the rooftops and fuck you in front of them to make a point.” He finishes it off and grabs his fork, completely missing the looks we’re getting now from a nearby table, Stryker being way too loud with his claims.
Bane doesn’t though, his hand back on my thigh, acting completely innocent and unfazed as he eats. Keeping his voice low, he whispers, “Imagine how much fun it would be to see if you could hide it from them when you come.”
Finishing my bite of toast, I turn to him, a bit surprised he’s being this brazen in public since he’s the most level-headed of any of them. “Don’t you mean if?”
He smirks, dragging out his response while taking another bite. “No, I mean when. I think you underestimate the abuse our instincts went through tonight, gorgeous. While I desperately wish you were riding my dick right now, feeling you come on my fingers is a close second.”
Sliding his hand up my thigh, he slips his fingers under the fabric, brushing against my bare skin. For the next few minutes, he simply toys with me as we continue to eat, working me up and getting me wet. Waiting until I have a bite in my mouth so I stay quiet, he abruptly thrusts two fingers as deeply as the angle allows.
Forcing myself to swallow, I grab a drink and narrow my eyes on his grinning face. My protests die in my throat as he hooks them inside of me, hitting the perfect spot. Raising an eyebrow, he strokes his fingers over it again. “Aren’t you hungry, love? I know I’m starving, and I didn’t work anywhere as hard as you did tonight.”
Eyes on Bane as I take another bite, Mason uses my distraction to slip a hand down my shorts, circling my clit as Bane pumps his fingers faster. It’s a growing challenge not to choke, but anytime I stop, so do they. As I continue to pick at my food, squirming in my seat, heat pools low in my belly. I can’t bring myself to look up from my plate, convincing myself that if I act normal and stay as quiet as possible, no one will spare us a second glance.
Switching hands, Bane rests his elbow on the table, his free hand setting down his fork to reach across his body and slide his fingers in sideways. Mason mirrors the action, the two of them finger fucking me in tandem.
Mentally loosing a litany of curses, rapid breaths hard to conceal, I start to come. Risking a glance up, self-conscious, I meet Stryker’s hungry gaze, not even pretending to touch his food. Curling a hand around Mason’s arm, my nails bite into his skin as I subtly rock against their hands, not breaking eye contact with Stryker despite the heat in my face.
“Was everything alright, then? Need a box?” The waitress materializes out of nowhere, the tunnel vision I’d developed muting my other senses to a dull roar.
Without removing the hand buried between my legs, Bane pops a finger from his free hand into his mouth, sucking it clean. “Delicious. We should definitely come here more often.”
Mason chimes in to ask for the check, and only when she leaves do they pull out. Hastily, I straighten my shorts, flustered and embarrassed. Fidgeting in my seat, three chuckles surround me and I take a swat at Bane’s arm.
“How did I let you talk me into that?” I hiss, shrinking down in my seat, cheeks on fire.
Mason winks. “Because orgasms are great and all, but the thrill of getting caught makes it that much more exciting.” He leans in to whisper, “Besides, we’re taking your status as incorruptible as a challenge.”
Chapter 18
Mason
“I’m gonna blow it up,” Stryker decides, glaring daggers at the apartment building.
“There’s at least twenty other people in there,” I counter, not really arguing, simply pointing out a fact.
They can all burn for all I care. How many times did they pass Risa in the hallway and not see what was going on, how withdrawn she was? How often did they fawn over that bastard, thinking he was the gods' gift to earth, oblivious to what was going on behind closed doors?
Risa puts her hand on his shoulder, gently stroking down his arm as we glare at the brick exterior, waiting outside of the apartment building. “If you’re going to get arrested for mass murder, at least make it for something more interesting than this. Let’s save that for plan B, okay?”
As the police cruiser pulls up, parking on the side street, she removes her hand, coming to stand beside me. Ryker and Thatcher exit the vehicle, eyeing the three of us with grim expressions, likely realizing they made a smart choice to intervene before we beat the shit out of the guy.
Ryker huffs. “Looks like we got a jumpstart and avoided the call that would’ve been going out anyway.”
Bane holds his hands up in surrender. “Not here to cause trouble, officers. We just want to make sure Risa is able to grab her things without getting hurt.”
Thatcher’s eyes are hard as he tilts his head toward the building. “Why don’t we have Risa go first, her husband can hover nearby, and the four of us will stay back a step?”
Ryker’s already shaking his head. “T, protocol-“
“Fuck protocol!” Thatcher snaps. “I want to see how he reacts when he thinks she’s alone.”
By his partner’s silence, I’d bet money that something happened to someone Thatcher loved, maybe a sister caught up in a domestic violence issue. Ryker nods, looking exhausted already, and waves a hand out for Risa to lead the way.
Pulling open the door, she takes a steadying breath before starting up the winding staircase up to the fourth floor. Stryker and Bane stay behind with the cops just around the corner while I lean against the wall, pretending to scroll on my phone.
Risa passes one door before stopping outside of her old apartment. Her fist hovers a few inches above the white painted metal, mustering up the courage to knock. A myriad of emotions cross her face, eventually settling on determination, and she raps her knuckles against the door. With my senses on high alert, I hear his footsteps as he approaches, forcing myself to look down at my phone and watching her out of the corner of my eye.
“Risa?”
&
nbsp; “Blake,” she retorts icily. “I’m here for my stuff; shouldn’t take long.”
It takes a moment for him to recover from the surprise, but when he does, he snaps, “Where the fuck have you been, huh? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you’ve made me look trying to cover up your little tantrum? And for what, so you could whore around before finally seeing that no one actually wants you for more than a quick fuck? Glad someone finally managed to knock some sense into you, now get your ass in here before someone-“ He cuts off as he sticks his head into the hall, spotting me only a few feet from the door now.
Leaving the recording feature running, I pocket my phone. “No offense, but you make yourself look plenty ridiculous on your own.”
He straightens up to his full height, the buzzed, red hair and tight fitting t-shirt making him look like a washed up frat boy. The hard glint in his dark brown eyes only solidifies that Risa was absolutely right and we underestimated her. By playing along and keeping the peace rather than stand up for herself and push back, she managed to keep things from escalating, because this man absolutely would have killed her sooner or later.
That cold look in his eyes? I recognize it well. It’s the same selfish, hateful glare that looked back at me when I finally caught up to my sire and took his head.
“And you are?” he snipes, tongue in cheek like he’s already expecting the answer.
A cruel, taunting smile takes over my face as I come to stand beside Risa. “Here to make sure Risa gets her things without issue. We agreed they’d look much better at my place than yours.”
Blake’s hand tightens on the doorframe, but I keep my muscles loose, pissing him off as I remain unfazed at his pitiful attempts at intimidation despite the fact he’s got several inches and at least fifty pounds on me. It serves a dual purpose of annoying him, and meaning I can react that much faster to pull Risa out of the way if he attempts something.
“Look here, asshole, I don’t know who you think you are,” he starts, but Risa cuts him off.
“Mason, Blake. Blake, meet Mason; my husband. I’m not here to start anything, I just want to get my stuff and we’ll be out of your hair.”
His neck and cheeks mottle with red splotches as his anger reaches a boiling point. “Listen here, you little bitch,” he spits, jabbing a finger in her direction that has me taking a step in front of her, tucking her partially behind my back.
“There a problem here?” Ryker asks coolly, strolling into view with the others.
In a blink, Blake morphs into a completely different person. All forms of hostility are buried by a level of casual neutrality that would give politicians a run for their money. His body loosens up, his face blanking before tilting his head respectfully towards Ryker. “Afternoon, officer. No problem, just a simple misunderstanding.”
Thatcher raises a humorless eyebrow. “What sort of misunderstanding, if I may ask?”
Blake tsk. “I was afraid something terrible had happened to my girlfriend, but turns out that concern was ill placed.”
“Mmm,” Thatcher replies. “Shame, that.”
Bane and Stryker’s faces are murderous, boring holes into Blake’s face from their position behind the police. Ryker feigns checking his phone. “We were just heading out, but we have a bit before we need to report back to the station.” He looks up at Blake before hitching a thumb at me. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume your girl ran off with this guy?” At Blake’s pursed lips and silence, Ryker nods to himself. “It’ll be less painful if we all pitch in and get this knocked out as quickly as possible then, don’t you think?”
Plastering a fake smile on his face, Blake steps back to clear the doorway. “Really, you don’t need to go through the effort, officers. I’m sure you have far more important things to do than help some chick pack up her stuff.”
“Eh, not really. Slow day,” Thatcher quips, failing to veil the disdain in his voice as he strides into the apartment.
“And you two are?” Blake asks, voice hard as he narrows his eyes on the men that look too much like me to claim coincidence in the given circumstance.
Stryker wisely keeps his mouth shut. The sheer loathing radiating off of him is answer enough, anyway, and seeing as we want the cops to remain on our side, silence seems the best choice until he can compose himself. Bane, on the other hand, is a master at stuffing down his feelings and acting the responsible adult.
“Mason’s brothers.” He claps me on the shoulder as he passes by, entering the apartment. “Sorry we’re a little late; traffic. Ran into these guys on the way up and figured it couldn’t hurt to ask them to stick around a few extra minutes to make sure everything was good.”
“Appreciate it, man.”
Blake snorts. “This is ridiculously unnecessary.” Stryker, Thatcher, and Ryker head off into the rest of the apartment without preamble, a fact that has Blake fuming, but trying to bite his tongue to save face. Only when the cops are out of ear shot does he hiss at Risa, “Two guesses how you managed to get five guys jumping at the chance to haul your shit out of here. Tell me, were you fucking all of them before you decided to run off, or did you wait until the next day to whore yourself out to the cops, too?”
“Watch your mouth.”
He looks at me with a sneer marring his pretentious face. “Or what? You bringing the cops with you ties your hands as much as mine.”
“So which is it?” Risa asks, grabbing a duffel bag from the closet. “Have I seduced those two cops onto my side, or not? Don’t you think if I was sleeping with them, they’d be willing to overlook a few things?”
She doesn’t wait for a response before striding down the hallway, leaving Bane and I alone with Blake. Glancing around the living room, there isn’t a single thing that looks like it belongs to Risa. Honestly, from her stories alone, I’d imagine she doesn’t have much more than some clothes, but those are easily replaced. There has to be something here that she wasn’t willing to leave behind, and I’d bet my left nut it’s something she kept hidden, or this jackass would be looking much more smug than he currently is.
Grinning at her retreating form, I cross my arms, leaning against the back of the couch. Bane takes up a post on the opposite side of the room, putting himself between Blake and the hallway the others went down. Well aware that we need to be careful with our words for the sake of the recording, I mull over the best way to antagonize the jackass, only to come to the conclusion that silence is the best choice. Some people simply love to hear themselves talk, and even better, get riled up when they don’t get any reaction from the people they’re trying to instigate.
It takes all of thirty seconds before he’s marching towards the kitchen, tossing his phone on the counter and grabbing a beer, popping it open before leaning against the archway. “I take it you’ve got money?” I don’t respond, and he smirks like he hit the nail on the head on the first try. “Only place you could have run into her was the club. You think some bitch working in a place like that wouldn’t jump at the first guy to flash enough money her way?” Snorting, he takes another drink. “Give it a month or two and she’ll move on to the next target, taking half of your shit with her when she does. Why do you think I never married her no matter how much she begged?”
Bane’s face darkens, and I shoot him a warning look before shrugging a single shoulder. “Not sure what you’re so worked up about. Sounds like you should be relieved you won’t have to worry about her anymore. Not your problem, and finally out of your life for good.”
Taking a long pull from the bottle, the mask he constructed for the sake of the police starts to crack, his true self bleeding out a bit. “We’ll see about that.”
My nails bite into my palm as I try to keep my cool. “Hell’s that supposed to mean?”
For once, he shuts up, finishing off his beer and tossing it in the trash. Thatcher appears first, a plastic bag in hand, followed by Risa with a duffle bag slung across her shoulders. The other two are empty handed, bringing up the re
ar and showing how little she actually had. She wasn’t living here with her boyfriend; Blake was allowing her a corner of his space and claiming himself her benevolent savior to the world.
“That everything, beautiful?”
She gives me a sheepish nod, looking embarrassed. The fact that he’s messed with her head so much that she thinks she has any reason to be, pisses me off to no end. He should be the one ashamed of how he treated her, the conditions he forced her to live in. She doesn’t have a damn reason to be embarrassed for not having much to her name, and her behavior when we took her shopping makes so much more sense now.
Stryker puts a hand on her lower back without thinking about it, needing the comfort for himself as much as wanting to offer it to her. Ryker and Thatcher share a look that Risa catches, gently sidestepping from his touch and giving them a shy smile that has both of their hearts skipping a beat, and Blake’s thundering with indignation.
“Sorry to trouble you guys for nothing,” she states, gripping the strap of her bag.
Ryker recovers first. “Not a problem in the slightest, ma’am. This line of business, we prefer a lack of excitement to shake things up.” With a tip of his head, he and Thatcher move out into the hall.
Uncrossing my arms, I head towards Risa, taking her bag from her, the weight barely registering from how light it is. Stryker steps out first, Bane bringing up the rear when Blake calls out, “I’ll be seeing you around.”
Pivoting, I pin him with a warning glare. “I should hope not, since we’ll be avoiding you like the plague. Obsessive isn’t a good look on you, Blake, so you should focus your attention literally anywhere other than my wife.” His name leaves a bitter taste on my tongue, but it’s for the greater good.
“A piece of paper doesn’t mean jack shit,” he retorts. “She will always belong to me; I found her, fed her, and fucked her long before you three assholes came into the picture, and I’ll be here after you’ve dipped out.” He turns to Risa, who’s currently glaring at him with utter loathing. “Isn’t that right? You think if they picked you up so easily, they won’t grow bored just as fast? Move on to the next pretty thing that catches their eye? Face it, Risa, you’re on borrowed time.”