Jaxon_Kings of Denver

by Sheridan Anne

  No, no, no. Please don’t, I beg silently, I’m not ready, I know it’s ridiculous to prepare for a moment like this but if I could mentally check out, it would make taking the abuse that bit easier. I mean, the only man I have ever been with is Jax and I know he will still love me afterward but I can’t stand the thought of my body being ruined for him. How could he love me the same when I’ll never be able to love myself again?

  His fingers linger on the inside of my hip, right where my tattoo sits. “But you know what really surprised me and quite frankly, pissed me off?” he asks. I refuse to answer and my silence spurs him on. “I was there you know, the day your skank friend convinced you to mark your beautiful skin with this filth,” he spits, pulling down the edge of my underwear to reveal Jax’s name. “It’s was the same day I stopped you on your run, I introduced myself but I bet you’re too shallow to remember my name, aren’t you?” he questions. He is right, I can’t remember his name, maybe I am shallow, but I honestly don’t give a fuck right now.

  “That little bitch deserves to be shot for the way she talked to me,” he says. “I knew I should have just taken you then, knocked the bitch out and had my way with you but there were too many people around, too many witnesses. They wouldn’t understand.”

  I scowl up at him. How could someone be so freaking deranged? I can’t hold my tongue any longer. “You’re fucking scum,” I spit at him. “Just you wait until my brother’s and Jax catch up with you. You’re going to regret the day you ever saw me.”

  He smiles down at me, the same way a parent would smile at a misbehaving child. “Darling, that isn’t going to happen,” he says so sure of himself. Though I know the truth. My brothers would never let this guy get away with it and who knows what lengths Jax would go to.

  The guy takes a breath and looks around his sickening little basement. “This is special, isn’t it?” he muses as his eyes come back down to me adoringly. “Just you and me with all the time in the world.”

  “You’re fucking delusional.”

  He shrugs his shoulders before pushing up off the bed. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a pocket knife. My eyes go wide and I can basically feel the blood draining from my face. I watch as he looks down at his knife with love then flicks open the blade. His eyes light up with excitement as he looks back down at me. “I think it’s time we got this show on the road.”

  My breathing becomes laboured as his knife lowers to my body. I didn’t expect this, well, I mean, I’m expecting he is going to hurt me in the most volatile ways possible but the scenario where he pulls a knife on me never entered my brain and I feel I need a few moments to mentally prepare. But it’s too late, I’ve run out of time.

  The knife comes towards me and I watch it with wide eyes. I try my best to squirm away but the bounds on my hands and feet are keeping me in place. Tears flow down my eyes as I realise this could be the beginning of the end, “Hold still, baby,” he grins wickedly as the blade comes in contact with my skin at my hip.

  Instead of the knife plunging down into my flesh, it slips shallowly under the side of my underwear until the material is held up off my skin by nothing but the blade. With a quick flick of his wrist, the material slices in two and the fabric bounces away from each other, clearly revealing my tattoo.

  His eyes focus in on the tattoo as darkness and anger flashes over his features. I sense him move before he does it, “No,” I cry out as his blade comes down on me and slashes deeply through my tattoo. I scream out in pain and instantly feel the warm blood oozing down my hip and in between my legs. Sobs are ripped from my chest as the stinging intensifies but he doesn’t stop there. His blade comes down once more in the opposite direction and slices through the tattoo once again, making an X.

  I scream and cry out, not just in agony but for the symbolism behind the tattoo in which he has just taken away and destroyed.

  His hand connects with my face in a harsh slap as he tries to get me to shut up, but it’s no use. I can’t stop and I won’t. “You better quit that shit before I show you what else my knife can do.” Yep, that shut me up. I try my hardest to swallow my sobs and I close my eyes, not wanting to see anymore.

  “Open your eyes,” he demands, slapping me again. “I’ve waited too long for this for you to not see.”

  I reluctantly open my eyes to find him sitting back down on the bed. His eyes trail over my body once again and linger on the bloodied tattoo. “Much better,” he muses to himself before pulling out his knife once again and slicing the other side of my underwear and up through the centre of my bra.

  I lay before him, naked as the day I was born with tears in my eyes wishing it was already over. A small amount of relief comes over me as he folds the blade back into the hilt and tucks the damn thing in his back pocket.

  His hand comes up to my chest and he takes my breast in his palm, giving it a painful squeeze before rubbing my nipple between his fingers. The touch has bile rising in my throat once again. His other hand skims down my stomach and over my bloodied tattoo. Pain rips through me at the touch but it is quickly forgotten as he continues on down and cups between my legs.

  His hand is wet with my blood but the feeling spurs him on. “You like it don’t you?” he grins at me as he forces his fingers between my folds and presses down while feeling my clit between his fingers. He continues rubbing my nipple as he painfully explores my clit. “Fuck yeah,” he groans. “I’m so fucking hard.”

  He suddenly let's go and stands beside me, his hands go to his jeans and he makes quick work of removing his clothes.

  He palms his pathetic excuse for a dick, rubbing the blood from my wound into his skin and I realise the sick fuck is using my blood as a fucking lubricant. His hand comes down between my legs again, though this time he bypasses my clit and heads straight for my entrance.

  His fingers dive in painfully and I cry out. “Yeah, I knew you’d like it, you fucking slut.” He says as he continues to palm his dick and thrust his dirty fingers into me.

  A loud banging comes from the house above and has the creep freezing before ripping his fingers from me and pulling his jeans on. “Don’t say a fucking word,” he warns me before dashing up the stairs, two at a time and closing the door behind him. I hear a distinct lock before I hear him rushing through the house.

  The banging on the door intensifies and I realise it sounds more like someone trying to break the door down.

  I fucking hope so. I listen out desperately, trying to hear voices or some kind of evidence that someone is here to get me. I hear the familiar sound of wood splintering and feet rushing across the floor.

  There is another loud bang, different from the earlier bang before I hear his angelic voice. “Where the fuck is she?” Jax bellows out.

  Jax?

  I scream out over and over again. “HELP, JAX, I’m here,” I cry “In the basement.”

  The sound of something or someone being dropping to the ground is heard throughout the room before the basement door is kicked in.

  Light comes shining into the darkness and I have to squint my eyes as the figure stands at the top of the stairs. My eyes quickly adjust and there he is.

  My freaking bad-ass hero.

  Chapter 22

  Jaxon

  I kick the basement door in and see darkness, it takes all of two seconds for my eyes to adjust and find my girl. My blood boils from the sight I see before me. Her naked, limp body is tied down to a bed and she is covered in blood from the waist down.

  She whimpers when she sees me at the top of the stairs and it quickly turns into full-blown sobbing. I rush towards her but am afraid to touch. My heart shatters at the sight but I know she is hurting so much more. I drop to my knees beside her. “Are you ok?” I whisper, trying to soothe her at the same time. My eyes rake over her body to take in her injuries. Red weeping blood catches my eye first and I quickly realise she has been cut. Her tattoo is sliced deeply in the shape of an ‘X’. I follow the blood down and
notice it has been smeared between her legs. The need to run back up those stairs and kill the fucker who dared put his hands on my woman races through me, but she needs me here.

  I force my eyes to continue their inspection. Her right breast is red raw, her face appears to be hit and there is a massive lump to her temple. My teeth grind together in fury. How dare he?

  I gently run my hand over her hair as I furiously look around the room for something to free her binds. “He touched you?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

  Her eyes squeeze closed and big fat tears escape between those beautiful lids. Please, Jax,” she whimpers, “Just get me out of here.” Shit. Of course. I latch onto the binds but can’t get them undone and pulling only tightens them. It’s then I notice her bloodied fingers and cracked nails and realise she was trying to get herself free.

  “He has a knife in his pocket,” she tells me with absolutely no emotion in her tired voice.

  I press my lips together, hating the idea of leaving her right now but I have to. I dash up the stairs and find the guy I had left knocked out cold on the hallway floor. I quickly search through his pocket and find the knife. I give him a swift kick to the ribs before I flick the knife open and see the blood still staining the blade.

  I fly down the stairs two at a time, desperate to get back to Cass. I do my best to put her injuries out of my mind so I can focus on getting her out of her binds and to the hospital. I slip the blade as gently as ever under the fabric and free her wrists before moving to her ankles. All four binds leave deep bruising on her skin and I can’t help but wonder if it is this bad because Cass had been fighting against them.

  She tries to sit up but cringes in pain and I gently push her back down. “Don’t move,” I tell her. “Let me find your clothes and then I’ll help you.”

  She nods her head slowly and I get to work searching the darkened room for her clothes. I find them in a pile near the bottom of the stairs, completely torn up and decide they aren’t worth saving. I grab a slip of fabric and hand it to her with instruction to hold it against her wounds to try and stop the bleeding but all that does is make her hiss in pain.

  I slip my jersey over my head and help her to sit up before pulling it back down over hers. The jersey comes down over her body and bunches at her waist so it will at least come down past her thighs when she stands and hopefully that will make her feel a little more comfortable. “Come on, babe. Let’s go,” I tell her softly as I bend down and gently scoop my hand under her knees. She automatically wraps her arms around my neck and allows me to lift her.

  The movement jostles her and she cringes in pain, most likely from the cut through her tattoo. I make my way up the stairs being careful with my movements and turn my back as I walk past the fucker who did this so she doesn’t have to see him.

  As I walk through the house, the front door is flung open and Cassie’s brothers all pile through, looking as imposing as ever. They take in the scene before them and relief washes over their faces until they have the chance to look her over properly. I see the moment their eyes take in the bruises and the blood covering her legs. Instant rage takes over them with Logan and Carter disappearing first.

  “He touch her?” Sean demands.

  “Not sure how badly,” I explain.

  His eyes find Cassie’s and she instantly looks away, ashamed of what happened to her. Sean’s heartbreak is obvious as he takes a breath. “Get her to the hospital.”

  With a nod, he follows after his brothers but I call out after him. “I’ll give you ten minutes before I call the police. I want that fucker behind bars.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge me but I know he heard me. I make my way out of the truck knowing Sean is the brains behind this operation, he will be able to reign the boys in before the cops arrive and leave without anyone the wiser.

  The cops will storm the place and find enough evidence to put him away for a long time.

  I gently slide her into my truck and make sure she is comfortable before heading around to my side. I flick the ignition and the truck roars to life. I take off in the direction of the hospital.

  We’re a few minutes in and the silence is killing me. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, hesitantly.

  She shakes her head ever so slightly as a few stray tears stream down her cheeks, “No,” she whispers.

  “K,” I murmur. “I’m going to call the police the moment we get to the hospital,” I warn her. “They are going to ask you questions.”

  She closes her eyes but nods her head. “How’d you find me?”

  I give her a tight smile knowing that any other day, what I’m about to tell her would infuriate her, though I know today she would be thankful for her brother’s overprotective qualities. “Uh, your brothers sort of put a GPS tracker in your phone when you went to New York,” I explain. “I called Logan and he told me where to find you.”

  She gives me a half smile as she lets out a breath. “I should have known.”

  I look her over and she seems to be doing a little better, there is a little more colour in her face and a relief behind her eyes. She still has a million miles to go before she is her normal self but at least it’s a start.

  “You’re really ok?” I ask.

  She looks up and reaches across the console to laces her fingers through mine. “I will be,” she tells me. “Thank you,” she adds, “For coming for me.”

  “Always.”

  We pull up to the hospital and I double park in the emergency area. I get out and rush around to Cassie’s side before helping her out. I take her inside and briefly explain what has happened to the lady at the check-in.

  Cass is taken into a room and told to wait there while they call a doctor to come and examine her. They warn Cass they are authorised to call the police and I let them know not to bother as I already have the number up on my screen.

  I duck out into the hallway but stay where Cass can see me and call the cops even though I’m almost certain the nurse is doing the same thing. I let them know the address of where I found her and they send some officers out while some are sent to meet with Cass and to take our statements.

  I quickly call the boys and let them know the cops are on their way and to get out of there. Cass overhears my call and yells out to me. I walk back into the room and she indicates that she wants to speak to her brothers. I hand the phone over and she wastes no time. “That creep has my phone with all my songs on it,” she says. Sean must reply as she continues. “Good, now get your asses out of there. I’m not leaving here only to have to stop by the station to bail you fuckers out.”

  I hear a strained laughter coming through the receiver and I know Sean is putting it on just to reassure Cass but who really gives a fuck, whatever Cass needs right now, she is going to get. She hangs up the phone and hands it back as I take a seat beside her bed.

  We sit in silence as we wait for the doctor when she sucks in a breath and looks to me. “Your game,” she says horrified.

  Shit, I’d completely forgotten about that. “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Coach was fine, though I should probably call him and let him know what’s going on.”

  She nods her head and I get up once again. She grabs hold of my hand stopping me. “Don’t give him too many details,” she begs.

  “Of course,” I say with a nod, she lets me go and I head back into the hallway, already dialing coach’s number. He rarely has his phone on during a game but I know he would have it today, waiting to hear from me.

  “You far off? The boys need you,” He questions as he answers the phone. The noise of the game in the background makes it near impossible to hear.

  “Sorry, Coach, I won’t be making the end,” I tell him.

  “Your woman ok?”

  “Will be. We’re at the hospital now, just waiting on the cops.”

  “Shit,” he curses. “Is it that bad?”

  “Yeah, Coach,” I sigh.

  “Alright, son. Go be with your gir
l.” He says as the crowd go nuts and drowns him out. He hangs up quickly and I hope that was for a good reason, not a bad one. The thought is gone from my mind as soon as I see the nurse from earlier escorting two chick cops down the hallway. I’m thankful they are women as I have no idea how Cass is going to handle strange men right now.

  I duck in before them and warn her they are here. They gently rap on the door as they enter. The two cops glance at me quickly before turning back to Cass. The one on the left starts. “Hi Cassandra, I’m Officer Samuels and this is Officer McNaught. We’ve come to talk to you about the ordeal you’ve been through today. Would now be a good time to ask you a few questions?”

  “I guess,” Cass shrugs.

  Officer McNaught takes a slight step forward. “Now, I know this can be uncomfortable and awful to talk about,” she says with her eyes flicking towards me. “Would you prefer we do this in private?”

  Cassie’s hand flies out and takes hold of mine, squeezing it within an inch of its life. “No, he stays,” she demands.

  “You’re sure?” Samuels asks.

  “I better be,” she says. “After all, I’m going to marry him one day.”

  My head whips in her direction and I catch her eyes. I raise a questioning eyebrow and she gives me the smallest nod in return.

  “Alright, Cassandra,” Samuels says as she pulls out a recording device and places it on the end of the bed while the other one pulls out a notepad and pen. “Why don’t you start from the beginning.”

  Cass does just that and my anger flares more and more the further she gets through re-capping the story. She gets to the part about the knife and being cut and I physically have to hold myself in my chair to stop myself going after the bastard once again.

  She comes to the ending and tells them how I cut her lose with the same knife and I pipe in to let them know I still have it on me. Samuels pulls out an evidence bag and gets me to drop the knife in. Cass finishes her story and that brings on a few questions about how I got to Cass and I explain that it was self-defense, after all, the guy had a knife. I hate telling the little white lie, but I am not going down for handing this guy a beating after everything he has put Cass through.