by Naomi West
But there was no letting her go now. Everyone at my table was now standing, death and ice in their eyes. “Patrick, my friend. She’s yours.”
I held my hand out to him, and one of the bodyguards snapped her up, dragging her outside as Patrick followed. After a few moments of silence, the bar returned to its normal noise.
“We should go,” I told Kelly, keeping my eyes locked on the crowd around us. “I don’t think she was working alone.”
Kelly’s eyes were practically glowing. “If you think so. If they are trying to murder me, it only because I’m doing great things. Great things! No one will ever forget my name after this deal goes through.” In spite of that strange speech, he stood up, his Cheshire grin spreading ever wider. Soon, it would consume his whole face. “Great things,” he repeated.
Why did you save him? If Kelly dies before the cartel moves in, the deal will fall through. Patrick wouldn’t have the balls to sign any of the papers; it would make him a target like it has done for Kelly.
I stared down at the floor, my head full and my skull throbbing from all of the noise bouncing around inside of it. I could have saved us. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut.
So why didn’t I?
That thought haunted me, followed me around for the rest of the day. I was a fool. And I was thinking it as I mounted the stairs back to my motel room. My feet carried me down the hall, even as my mind was occupied. But when I looked up, I noticed my feet had taken me down too far. I was standing front of Ivy’s door, not my own.
Why did I come here? But I already knew the answer. I could feel the frustration and worry burning my up under my skin. And I wanted to take it out on Ivy’s flesh. I wanted to carve my name into her skin with my teeth. I wanted to throw her against the wall and pierce her body. I bet she would be tight and dripping wet.
And even worse, I was pretty sure that good-girl Ivy wanted me just as badly.
Fuck. I lifted my hand anyway to her door. I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I knocked. After a few moments of silence, the locks on the door clicked and squeaked and groaned. The door parted from the frame ever so slightly, giving me a glimpse at those angelic brown eyes and the messy tumble of mocha-colored curls.
“Oh, Creed,” she said, her eyes instantly dropping to the floor. Was that fear or desire in her gaze, or was it a mix of both? Her fingers gripped the door so hard her knuckles were white. “Josh was sleepy, so I sent him back to your place to nap. He’s still there. If you--”
I pressed my hand against the door of her motel room, pushing her and the door back inch by inch. Even as she braced herself against it to keep it closed, I overpowered her, my hunger overwhelming my sense.
Suddenly, she backed away from the door, her eyes too wide and her mouth parted. She was panting like she’d just sprinted for the bus, her face darkening several shades as she blushed. I could feel my body harden in response to her fear, her desire, those too-wide eyes questioning me as I entered her room and closed the door behind me.
“Uh, Creed, I--” But she stopped talking. I backed her into a corner. Her face was doused in fear, her eyes too wide and tracking every single one of my movements. She looked like a rabbit being stalked by a fox. And there was no escape for her.
“Ivy,” I whispered, lifting my hand to brush my fingers over her cheek. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
She gaped at me, her mouth working but no sound coming out. Before she could catch her breath or find her voice, I was kissing her, my mouth locked over hers like a vacuum. It felt like gravity, an inevitable twisting of events that got us here, and not a single thing in the world could have stopped it.
Her lips were pliant under mine, her whole body tense and frozen. I knew I shouldn’t be kissing her, I shouldn’t even be in this room with her, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
Reluctant hands lifted up and wrapped around my shoulders, the warmth of her pressing closer. I slid my tongue between her lips and she bit me, her eyes wild.
And that broke me.
All control went out of the window. My hands explored her back and hips without control, my mouth pressed so hard to hers neither of us could breathe. I was holding onto her so tightly, drowning in the taste of her lips, in the caresses of her fingers, that my mind and body were no longer under my control.
I wrapped my arms close around her quivering body, pressing her hard against the line of my burning, aching body. I explored her mouth with tongue, lips, and teeth, pulling her ever closer until neither of us could breathe.
Ivy looked like an angel, but she kissed like a demon.
As soon as her desire overtook her fear and her surprise, Ivy began to battle back, her body pressing harder against mine. Her teeth and lips clashed against mine like she was starved, her mouth hungry and hard against my own. Her nails bit into my shoulder through the thick skin of my leather jacket. One of her legs wrapped erotically around mine, pulling my body closer and setting my blood on fire.
It was like a ticking time bomb between us and nothing could stop the coming explosion. We would clash, wrestle, and burn, our desires explosive and all-consuming.
Until a little voice in the back of my head decided to intervene.
This is a terrible idea.
Ivy felt so fragile under my hands, so light. A flash of her angelic eye flashed across my mind and stumbled back from her. I was across the room in seconds, breathing heavily as I stared at her. She didn’t seem to be breathing at all, her hair disheveled and her lips bruised and swollen. I was too rough for her.
We both froze, uncertain. “I--” I started, but it came out more like a croak. So I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
And I turned on my heel and left, shutting the door quietly behind me. As soon as the door was closed, I could hear the bolt turn home, the chains put back on the door.
I couldn’t blame her at all for that.
I slumped back to my room, my feet heavy and my blood still boiling. I had an erection that was making my pants painfully tight across my hips. Ivy was still all bruised and tangled up in my thoughts, which was only making the whole situation worse. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything; my whole body throbbed with the memory of her skin so close to mine.
She was getting too close to me, too close to Josh. There was only one thing I could do at this point to make sure Ivy would run away screaming from this life that would kill her: I would have to scare her. And scaring her meant doing the unthinkable: I’d have to bring her down to the Devil’s Edge.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirteen
Ivy
Before my father passed away, he would visit a junkyard to find pieces for his car. He never liked to pay mechanics, and learning how to do it all himself made servicing his car cheap, fast, and easy. Mostly he went to the junkyard on his own, worried I might hurt myself among all of the rusted cars and dirt.
But one trip, I begged him to let me go. I begged and pleaded and promised to be good. I just wanted to see what it was that I had been forbidden to see for so long. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.
My father finally gave in. Oddly enough, I didn’t hurt myself on any of the strange cars, half empty and twisted. No, I was attacked instead, by a junkyard dog. It was a wild vicious thing with big drooling jowls and sharp teeth. I still have the scar from that bite. I remember the pain and fear. But more than that, I remember the cold-as-steel look of a killer in that dog’s eyes. I could have died, and that dog would have taken a sick kind of joy in my death.
That icy look in that animal’s eyes has haunted me to this day.
And now, I’m surrounded by humans with that same cold-as-steel look in theirs.
Seeing it sends shivers down my spine. How did I let myself get dragged into this? It had seemed like such a great idea a few moments ago. Creed had just knocked on my door again after that wild kiss yesterday and gruffly asked me to come with him to the Edge. Conf
used and still burning from his touch, I agreed without thinking it through first.
Stupid mistake. It might be the last mistake I ever make. I was surrounded by wolves and I was a sheep, quivering with fear. I stayed as close as I could to Creed. Funny how he should seem like the safest thing in this whole place when he had been my biggest fear for so long.
I tried not to think about the cold-eyed strangers surrounding me like sharks to a meal. I tried not to think about that kiss yesterday. I didn’t want to think about why Creed brought me here. I didn’t want to think about anything.
A small, warm hand slipped into my icy, limp one. Josh looked up at me, a smile on his face as he started to pull me away from Creed. “I want you to meet Pearl,” Josh said, yanking harder on my arm. How can he be so oblivious to all of the evil around him? All of the cold-hearted strangers who cared nothing for any of us?
It was strange, but seeing Josh’s face here made it a little easier. He seemed so at home here, so easy with these strange people. I let him drag me away, unsure of which direction we were heading in and what I would find when I got there.
“Pearl!” Josh screamed. “Are you in here?”
He pulled me closer to what looked like an office. The door was propped open and no sound came through the doorway. But as soon as Josh’s too loud voice rang out, a figure appeared, her pretty white and silver hair piled on her head in a pretty, messy bun. Pearl looked to be about fifty-five. It was the age my father would have been, were he still around. But her hair, probably already platinum to start with, had turned completely gray. It still looked soft and gently curled. It matched her serene, pretty face, mostly unlined. There was a wicked sort of humor in her azure eyes, and I liked her almost immediately. Even before she opened her mouth.
She snorted. “You must be Ivy, then, girl,” she said without preamble.
“And you must be Pearl, who I’ve heard so much about,” I answered, dipping my head in respect.
Pearl was dressed in what looked like gypsy clothing. Baggy embroidered pants came to her knees, displaying coffee-and-cream leather boots. She wore a baggy shirt that tied up the front, held close by a leather vest that looked custom made. I’d never seen anything like her in my life.
“Welcome to the Edge. Don’t let the dogs out there scare you; they’re all bark and no bite.”
I continued to stare at her as she stepped forward, holding her arms out to Josh. “And how’s my favorite little brat?” she cooed as Josh allowed himself to be crushed in her rail-thin arms. “Are you driving your pa crazy?”
“Duh,” Josh said, his voice alight with humor as he pushed his way out of her embrace. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”
Pearl chuckled. “You are your father’s son, for absolute sure. Now, you go find Uncle Patrick. He has something to show you.”
“Sweet!” And he was off, tearing across the hideout floor like nothing dangerous lurked in the corners. Perhaps for him, they weren’t dangers. His dad was, after all, part of the fold. The kid was probably protected, something I was not. I had no affiliation here, no friends or family. I had nothing to protect me. Not even Creed’s word.
And he was nowhere to be found.
“I suppose proper introductions are due now,” Pearl said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked me up and down, her eyes critical. “You can’t look as weak-willed as you look, or else Creed wouldn’t have brought you here. What’s your story, huh?”
My knee-jerk reaction to the odd line of questioning was to smile. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, what she wanted to know. “I don’t have one,” I answered, glancing around. Josh had run off and was chatting with an older man. He looked like he’d seen a little too much bad and nowhere near enough good in his life. Creed had also wandered away and was standing in a small group of men, laughing at some sort of joke they all shared.
I am abandoned here with Pearl then. They brought me here and then left me. They couldn’t have left me with anyone better. Pearl was a tough lady; she looked like she might have knocked a few heads together in her day, but she was soft on the inside and seemed to take pity on my lack of knowledge.
“No story, huh?” She grinned at me. “It can’t as bad as that, dearie. You don’t look nearly mean enough to have been born into this. You talk too good; there’s nothing crude in you. So? What happened? Gambled all of your money away?”
I shook my head and leaned back against the doorframe that Pearl had walked out of, my eyes on Creed. He seemed too relaxed and easy here. I’d never seen him like this. “I lost it. Someone I trusted pulled the rug out from underneath me. I- We were never wealthy, but we had some money. It was enough. Until it was all stolen away.”
I wasn’t being vague on purpose, but remembering the details felt like knives in my chest. I didn’t want to think about Janice or the life she’d stolen from me.
Pearl nodded. “Sad tale. I’ve heard it more times than I would like to count.”
We were silent for a long moment, our thoughts too tangled up to remember we’d been having a conversation. Pearl was the first one to shake herself out of it. “Well, but that’s all in the past. Nothin’ neither of us can do now about it.” She held out a hand, and I took it gingerly to shake it.
We walked around the outer rim of the club. Pearl’s strides were long and easy, and I had to hustle to keep up with her. The place was huge, filled with men and motorcycles and the scent of hard work. It was a dangerous looking place, and I worried for little Josh. But he seemed to have one eye of nearly every adult on him at all times, keeping him out of trouble. It was like a family almost, though a very dangerous one.
I caught a glimpse of Creed as we circled the main crown. Pearl was telling me about some of the legitimate work they did around this place, and I tried to remain focused on her words. But suddenly, something pulled my gaze to the right, away from whatever she was discussing and into the center of the room. My eyes found him without difficulty, drawn there like magnets or gravity. And once I found him, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of him, either.
He was talking to some of the other men in the group. There were three others, and they spoke rather intently to one another. So intently, in fact, that I jumped when one of them cocked back and punched Creed right in the jaw. I jumped, a small noise of empathetic pain filling my mouth. But Creed didn’t even seem to notice anyone had hit him. With a wild grin, he hit the other guy back in the face.
A warm hand closed over my wrist, forcing me to glance back. It was Pearl, a smile on her pretty face. “Oh, girl, I wouldn’t get in the middle of that for the world. Just let them figure it out for themselves.” Her smile widened as I started back at her; I couldn’t imagine what expression I had on my face, but it was probably just as lost and bewildered as I felt.
I felt a blush creep over my cheeks as I turned away from the tussle. It’s not like I could defend Creed anyway. I was as weak as he was strong. And Creed has no need for weak women. I blushed even harder, remembering that thrilling kiss. I could remember every line of his beautiful body pressed hard against mine. I could remember every inch of him, hot and wild and--
I forced myself to push those thoughts from my head, even though I knew they were just waiting in the back of my brain. Those sexual thoughts about Creed were just waiting until the worst moment to come out a pounce on me. It was odd; I hadn’t thought much about men during my lifetime. I’d always been too busy or too focused on building my business or being ruined to think much about the opposite sex. But it seemed my body all of a sudden had different ideas, about a man like Creed. A man who was too crooked for his own good. A man I could never be strong enough to stand beside.
“Do you know why most of the older members have wives or partners, Ivy?” Pearl asked unexpectedly, pushing herself up onto a workbench that was far too tall for sitting. She swung her legs like a child on a barstool, a soft smile on her lips. Her pretty eyes looked off into the distance, seeing things that weren’t there.<
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With no little grunting and too much effort, I climbed onto the table beside her. From here, we both had a good vantage of the whole place. My eyes went to Creed first, no longer fighting but laughing and patting his bleeding friend on the shoulder. Then my eyes found Josh. He was sitting with an older man, strangely at ease in this dangerous place.
“Why do they have wives?” I asked at length, unable to come up with a proper answer. “Because they are lonely?”
“Lonely can be taken care of with $50 if you know where to go,” Pearl said dismissively. I blushed again. “No, most of the boys have women because they remind them that they are human. That someone is at home waiting for them, and they aren’t just cogs or faceless Stormtroopers in the war.”
I stared at her for a moment. I wanted to say something, perhaps funny or clever, to rid the air of some of the tension at Pearl’s words. But I couldn't think of anything to say. My eyes locked onto Creed across the room.