by J. C. Cliff
“Ree,” she starts off, “you really need to be the one to talk to her. I don’t know how your father is faring.”
“Fine, I’ll try to call her today,” I mumble.
Glancing at Blade, I watch him tap his finger to his watch and mouth, “Time’s up.”
“Look, I’ve gotta run. Love you, honey.”
Before I can hear her reply, Blade swipes the phone out of my hand and disconnects the call.
“Hey! I didn’t even get to hear her say goodbye.”
“You’ll live,” he mutters, pocketing the phone.
“Asshole,” I mumble.
Watching him start for the door, panic begins to set in. The last thing I want is to be left in this room by myself again.
“I need to call my mother,” I plead.
“You got your one phone call… that’s it.”
“But I have to call my mother,” I entreat as he turns toward the desk. Grabbing the handcuffs, he spins back to me and twirls them around his finger.
“I said no. Fight me on it and I’ll put the cuffs back on,” he threatens.
To keep myself from cursing him and damning him to Hell, I drag my lower lip between my teeth and bite so hard I think I may have drawn blood.
Satisfied by my silence, he shoves the handcuffs into his back pocket.
“Send a fucking smoke signal to your mother,” he says, pulling open the door.
Unable to hold my tongue another minute, I release my lip and lay into him.
“You dick!” I shout just as he slams the door shut behind him. A second later the lock clicks into place. My eyes land on the lamp on his nightstand and I reach for it, yanking it hard enough that the cord pulls from the socket. In one fluid motion, I send the lamp flying and it crashes against the steel door. The bulb explodes, and tiny pieces of glass decorates the floor. If there is a God, Blade will return barefoot and step on the glass.
And if miracles really happen, the bastard will bleed out.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What? No bread and water?” I ask as Blade walks into the room carrying Chinese takeout.
After Blade left and I broke the lamp, he didn’t return. A scantily dressed woman dropped in a couple of hours ago with my clean clothes, plus two more outfits and a couple of pairs of underwear. Lucky for me, every item still had a price tag on it so I didn’t have to worry about sharing underwear with the likes of the woman who delivered them.
With nothing else to do, I watched television all day. If it wasn’t for the news, I’d have no idea what the weather outside is like because the bum doesn’t even have a window to this room.
Ignoring me, I watch Blade set the bag of food on top of the desk. I’m too proud to admit the food smells divine or that I’m famished. Instead I will my rumbling belly to quiet. He pulls out two bottles of water before tipping his chin toward me. If I wasn’t so hungry I might tell him to shove his food where the sun doesn’t shine, but I give in to his beckoning bullshit and make my way toward the desk.
“Thank you,” I mumble as he pulls out the chair and I take a seat.
Rummaging through the cartons of food, I ignore Blade as he pulls up another chair and sits across from me.
Peering at him through my lashes, I watch as he silently, grabs a pair of chopsticks and goes to work on the Lo-Mein. As much as I hate the situation and him, I kind of miss the way things were on our first date and how well we got along. Even if it was fake on his behalf, I really enjoyed his company and I was enthralled by him.
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I remind myself of the pictures he took and sent to his biker buddies. Still, I crave something more than food. Maybe I’m feeling the effects of my captivity and boredom, but the idea of not speaking through a meal drives me mad.
“Have you found out anything more?” I ask as I struggle to grab a piece of chicken with the chop sticks.
Finally plucking a piece into my mouth, I chew and divert my attention back to him. Opening his water, I watch as takes a long sip and I’m taken back by how sexy he looks when he eats. I’m a disgrace to women everywhere, I know, and to be fair, I want to slap myself for the thought.
“We’re still working on it,” he tells me.
“Are you always this short or am I special?” I ask, frustrated with him and his non-answers.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Okay, perhaps I need to take a different approach. What’s that saying? You catch more bees with honey then you do with vinegar?
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” I tell him.
The chopsticks pause at his mouth as he stares at me warily.
“I’m serious. I know I’m not being easy to deal with, but I’ve come to realize you really do care about my safety.”
Wrapping his lips around the chopsticks, he pulls the noodles from them and chews as he regards me in silence. A whimper threatens to slide past my lips and I decide I’ve been cooped up in this place for too long. I’m not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t find anything about him attractive. If anything, I should be repulsed by the man.
“I really think I need to go for a walk,” I blurt. “Clear my head a little.”
“I’ll take you out after we eat.”
“Really?” I’m so surprised by his answer, I feel the need to question him.
As he shoves more food into his mouth, I’m struck with the possibility of breaking free. If I can distract him somehow, maybe I can make a run for it.
“Yeah, we can go for a walk around the perimeter of the compound.”
His reply causes me to slump in my chair. Unless I start scaling walls there is no way I’m getting out of here. It’s hopeless.
Trish was right, my ad was a ridiculous idea. I should’ve simply paid for lessons and learned how to ride a motorcycle myself. It’s not like I don’t have the money to treat myself. Instead, like fool I relied on a man to fulfill a dream.
If this experience has taught me anything it’s that I need to be my own woman. I need to find my independence and take care of myself. I should never rely on someone else to make me happy. I have to learn to chase my own dreams and make things happen with or without a man.
After all, most guys are here today and gone tomorrow.
“Eat up,” Blade says, jutting his chin toward the food in front of me. “The compound is huge, you’ll need your energy if we’re going to trek around the whole thing.”
Refusing to give up hope and pairing it with the new need to be my own woman, I decide to make the most of the walk. I might not be able to escape but at least I can have a better look at my surroundings.
Television didn’t prove to be much of a distraction and I’ve been worried sick about my father all day. He’s been ill for a long while. The doctors call him a ticking time bomb and a week is far too long for me not to see him if his health is declining so rapidly. If Blade won’t let me call him then I have no choice but to take matters into my own hands.
After a somewhat silent dinner, Blade takes me by the hand and escorts me out of my cage. Passing through the dimly-lit hallway, I begin to feel anxious as we make our way outside.
When we reach the large steel doors, Blade pushes one open and holds it for me to pass through. I give a short sigh of relief as I feel the setting sun warm my face. You never realize how much you need fresh air until you’re denied the simple privilege.
“Thank you for this,” I say, adding a smile for extra emphasis. Maybe if I’m nice, I’ll throw him off his game.
“Not a problem,” he replies, reaching into his leather vest. Expecting him to pull out his cigarettes, I’m mildly surprised when he reveals a tin of mints.
“No cigarettes?” I ask, curious at this unexpected turn of events.
“Trying to quit,” he replies, eyeing me from the corner of his eye. “I hear it’s a bad habit.”
For some reason that makes my smile turn genuine and widen.
“You got a pretty smile, you should use it more ofte
n,” he mutters, popping a handful of mints into his mouth. I don’t reply because the first thing that comes to mind is that I will smile a lot once I’m rid of him, but that won’t get me anywhere.
As we begin to walk along a dirt path, I notice the high barbed wire fencing encasing the property. I’m screwed. I need to either look for weak links within the fence, or find a way out the front gate.
“So, what’s your story,” he asks, giving me a sidelong glance as we stroll along the gravel path. “Aside from the shit with your ex-husband, I know you got a friend named Trish and an attitude buried under all that class. Now, come to find out you got a mother you’re suddenly desperate to call.”
Still needing to distract him, I decide to indulge him. Besides, when this is all over, me and my story will be nothing but a memory to Blade.
“My mother and I have been on the outs ever since I announced I was getting a divorce. I shouldn’t have been surprised because she’s old school. Like 1800’s old school, when divorce didn’t exist and sucking it up in silence did. Still, I hoped she would side with her daughter, maybe even show a shred of compassion toward my situation but that’s not what happened,” I admit, pausing for a beat as another realization dawns on me. “She always made me feel as if I couldn’t survive without a man or make important decisions on my own.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies.
“Don’t be sorry. I may not have the best mother, but I’m most certainly the apple of my father’s eye. I’ve always had his unwavering support. I had a great childhood.”
Nodding his understanding, we continue to walk in comfortable silence.
“When you were on the phone with Trish I heard you mention something about being stalked.”
Biting my lip, I contemplate on whether I should share any other details of my life with this man or not. The thing is, I’m pretty certain he will find out whatever he wants to know regardless of if I share it willingly or not.
“I already told you my ex-husband was a controlling bastard. He’s apparently decided to keep tabs on my whereabouts,” I say.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, I push my fingers through my hair and shake my head.
“I’m so tired of living under everyone’s thumb.” I pause for a moment, then half laugh. “If my parents only knew what I was doing right now. They’d most likely have a heart attack.”
“They’d be in worse shape if you wound up dead over this mess,” he counters, keeping us in stride as we turn a corner.
“So, what’s your story or am I not allowed to ask you questions too?” I challenge, noting a security camera on the corner of the building. As I wonder how many others I may have missed, Blade surprises me by draping his arm around my shoulders and dragging me against his side.
“I lost my parents early on in life,” he reveals. My feet become rooted in place and I lift my head. Staring at him, I can see the anguish in his eyes as he continues to share. “Which led me to raise my sister.” Releasing a ragged sigh, he levels me with a cold stare. “No one here knows about my sister and that’s how it’s going to stay. You hear me, Ree?”
“Yes,” I whisper, holding my breath as I wait for his next set of words.
“I lost her recently to a drug overdose and I have no one to blame but myself. I should’ve been there for her. I should’ve paid more attention, but I was too busy fucking around to notice my sister was suffering in silence.”
My heart sinks at the news and despite everything that’s happened since we arrived at the compound, I can’t help but feel for him.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, touching a hand to his bicep to offer him comfort. “But how can it be your fault? You said she overdosed.”
He looks away and I can see his jaw tick with agitation.
“I could’ve prevented it,” he says, slicing his eyes back to me.
As he stares at me I can’t help but wonder if his sister’s death is the reason he’s helping me. Surely, not—that would mean Blade has a heart, and I’m not sure one can exist inside a soul as dark as his.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dead on my feet, I drag my ass through the compound and make my way toward my room. The sooner this fucking day is over with the better off everyone will be. Spending the last twelve hours slinging guns, trying to turn a buck ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, and part of me can’t help but wonder what the fuck I got myself into. As a prospect I didn’t have to worry about making paper; now I gotta earn my keep just like everyone else, even if it means sacrificing my soul to the Devil himself.
Since I’m patched in and know shit, it’s clear Chaos has one big cluster-fuck on their hands. Our original supplier, the Satan’s Knights MC of Brooklyn, can’t deliver on our gun order. Seems like the former president, Jack Parrish, fucked shit up when he tried selling his weapons to the most powerful cartel. Rumor has it, Parrish is certifiably insane and should’ve backed down from the gavel years ago when his mind started to fail him, but being a stubborn prick, he opted to push his luck. So, the deal went bad and he’s got the ATF breathing down his neck. Word on the street is he handed in his patch and is cutting a deal with the District Attorney, but until Rush sits down formally with the Knights, that’s all hear say. On top of that, they can’t supply us which means we’re scrambling the fucking Tri-state area looking for firearms.
Today was a goddamn dead end and tomorrow don’t look too promising either. If that wasn’t enough shit, we still don’t have a match on the finger print.
As I reach my room, I dig into my pockets for the key and cringe. Ree has been locked in there all fucking day and God only knows what I’m going to find once I open the door. Finding my fucking balls, I deal with the lock and push it open. Stepping into the room, my eyes do a quick sweep around the small space before they settle on Ree. Leaning against the headboard, she ignores me and keeps her eyes pinned to the television. Following her gaze, I note she’s watching one of those ridiculous reality shows. You gotta be pretty desperate to put your business on TV and make a total ass of yourself, but I suppose not everyone can shake down gangs for their guns.
“That’s such bullshit,” I mutter. “No fucking self-respecting man is going to stand there, handing out fucking roses just to land a piece of ass. Who creates that kind of shit anyway?”
“People who want to make money,” she replies.
I turn to look at Ree who’s lounging in my T-shirt and ask, “People actually get paid to do that?”
“Of course they do.”
“Still… the dude’s a fucking schmuck, who can’t get a woman to fuck him on his own. He’s gotta go on TV and hand out roses, just to score some pussy.”
“Well, aren’t we in a pissy mood,” she says, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re the one being a dick.”
Maybe I am.
I’m in a foul mood and tired as fuck.
Reaching behind my head, I pull my t-shirt over my head and toss it into the hamper as I start for the bathroom.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I tell her. “By the time I’m done, I want that shit off. I need to go to bed,” I growl.
Without giving her a chance to argue, I walk into the bathroom and slam the door. She’s probably cursing me from here to kingdom come but I don’t give a shit. Turning on the water, I kick off my boots and strip down before dragging my naked ass into the shower. The hot water washes over me, and I roll my stiff neck under the spray, hoping to relieve some of the tension coiling through my entire body.
As I begin to scrub the dirt from my body, my mind wanders to Ree. Sitting on my bed, wearing my t-shirt and showing off those fucking long legs, she’s a sight. She may be a thorn in my side, but that does nothing to suppress my attraction to her. If anything, I like that she’s got a little fire buried under all that class—makes her more attainable to a mutt like me.
It’s been too long since I fucked her and having her sleep next to me, unable to touch her, has been torture. All I want to do is throw her legs
over my shoulders and bury my face in her sweet-as-fuck pussy before railing her with my cock until she can’t fucking walk, think, or speak.
Wrapping my fist around my cock, I lean my forehead against the cool tile and start to work my shaft. Visions of Ree flash before me and I imagine I’m fucking her tight cunt and not my goddamn hand. I’m a sorry excuse for a man because it don’t take more than a couple of thrusts before I’m painting the tiles with my come.
By the time I finish in the shower, she’s still watching the damn TV and continues to ignore me. Gritting my teeth, I slip into bed wearing just my underwear and try to make myself comfortable. The douche on the screen professes his undying love to a woman he met ten minutes ago and like a car wreck, I can’t help but watch. We’re both quiet for a few minutes before I put myself out of my misery and finally speak up, “Turn it off.”
She gives me a dirty look and I mentally prepare myself for the tongue-lashing.
“You could say please and thank you. Did you ever hear of those words?”
It’s my turn to ignore her as I roll onto my side, giving her a view of my back. Tomorrow is going to be another hellish day and I need to get some fucking sleep. She can throw a tantrum all she wants.
“Turn it off,” I order. “Of course, I’d get stuck with a goddamn princess. Newsflash, sweetheart, the fucking world don’t revolve around you.”
“You are unbelievable,” she sneers. “I’ve been stuck in this Godforsaken room all day long, forced to watch basic cable because heaven forbid you people spring for Netflix or Hulu. The ten dollars a month might break you. I’m bored, and guess what? I am not tired either.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl. Having had enough of her attitude, I pull the pillow from under my head and cover my face with it. If there is a God and should he still have mercy on me, he’ll let me suffocate to death.
“Yeah, I’ll say,” she retorts. “I must admit, the show you put on while you were in the shower was far more entertaining than anything on TV, that’s for sure. How was it by the way?” she taunts.