by Ker Dukey
Every swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip makes me squirm and clench. He must know what he does to me, making me freaking crazy with need. Every part of my body feels in tune with every single movement of his.
“Like what?” I tease, biting down on my lip. I feel brazen and wanton.
“Like you want me to touch you in places no man has before.” He groans low and deep.
“How do you know no one has?” I torment, and when his eyes flare with that fire I love, I know he’s mine.
This is it. This is bigger than two people, the club, his best friend. Our souls are destined, and every instinct inside us knows it, pulls us toward each other. An invisible rope tethers us, beckoning us to come together.
“If someone’s touched you, I’ll kill them,” he informs me. There's no jest, just malice and truth lacing his words.
“Then you touch me,” I whisper, sliding over the seat and sidling up to him.
The heat coming from his body is electric, charged by the chemistry sizzling between us. His eyes are glassy from the influence of the alcohol, the pupils swallowing up all color. His response is slow at first, but then he’s reaching out to me. His grip fits my hips like I was crafted just for him. I can see the internal battle he's waging war with, denying himself, denying me. But his restraint, all of his willpower is weak.
I take full advantage, the liquor fueling my confidence. I press myself against him. My tits push into his arm and my lips chase the connection of his.
“Fuck,” he rumbles.
Then he’s on me, gripping my hips and lifting me onto his lap. The thick bulge in his pants prods at my pussy, desperate for purchase. Our lips clash, rough and soft all at the same time. Biting, licking, tasting. We devour each other. My hips writhe over his cock, trying to ease the pressure building there. He tugs at my dress. The string around my neck snaps and falls down, revealing my tits to his greedy eyes.
“Oh shit, I’m going to hell,” he breathes before his hot tongue flicks out and swipes over one of my sensitive nipples. His lips close around it, sucking me into his mouth, swirling and nipping.
Fuck. I’m going to combust.
He’s tugging my hair back, making me arch my back and push myself further into his needy mouth.
He pulls away and shakes his head as if to clear it. Then he grabs the bottle I’d discarded on my seat, then he chugs the entire thing.
“Daaammn it,” he slurs, his eyes blinking closed.
“Stay with me, Eddy.” I urge him.
“Toouch myy cocck, Rhi, pleasssse.” He stumbles over his words. The etched lines on his face show the want, the pain. This seamless, weightless desire between us needs exploring.
I wiggle my hips back and drop my hands to his zip. Our breathing inside the small confines echoes around us, building the anticipation. The atmosphere is flammable and when I tug open his jeans and free his cock we ignite.
The sound of the sharp gasp makes wet juices pool in my panties. I grasp my hand around his shaft and his eyes roll into the back of his head.
We each hold our breath as I position myself over him. He tears the material of my panties and tugs the pieces away from me. I tighten my entire body, anticipating the slow burn as I push down onto him. The pain steals my breath and water springs in my eyes.
“Fuck.” He groans crashing his lips to mine.
“Are you ok?” He frowns placing his forehead against mine
My fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms as I rise and make deliberate slow thrusts down, tilting my pelvis forward as I do, to answer the question. There’s a rumbling in his chest. His hands hold onto my thighs so tight I know I’ll be wearing his bruises for days afterwards. His eyes bore into mine, holding me in his gaze ebbing the sore sting of his entry.
My lips part as I shudder a breath. Looking down between us to see where we’re joined, to watch as I slide over him, he leans forward to rest his forehead on my shoulder, his lips muttering words I can’t fully hear. His body is tense, his hips bucking upward as I thrust down.
His movements become rushed, urgent and sloppy, it’s perfect. The pain bleeds into a slight tenderness.
I want to tell him how much I love him, how much this means to me. How I’m never going to forget him being my first, my one, my only.
I feel him squeeze onto me and his river of cum spurts inside me. All the air leaves my lungs like balloons deflating, and I collapse over him.
His chest rises and falls. Suddenly he sends the seat into recline and slings his arm over his face. Silent snores follow.
I don’t know whether to slap him or lay on him and never leave. The pain, the burn between my thighs, all witness and proof it happened. It was sloppy and quick, but it happened. He was mine and I his in that moment. It was our moment. He was the ignition and I the flame. Together we burned.
I dry off and pull on sweatpants and race over to my bed to find my nightshirt, it’s the one Scorch gave me when I was thirteen. It’s worn and faded but it’s the favorite item of clothing I own. It makes me feel close to him.
* * *
I’m in my father’s arms before my feet even cross the threshold of the club. He squeezes me so tight that for the first time in my life I actually feel like his little girl. He’s always loved me, I know that, but affection was shown by gifting me money and jewels. This, his embrace and raw tenderness makes tears spring to my eyes.
Owl grins at me from the sidelines.
“Hey, Daddy,” I breathe. Giant paw-like hands stroke down my hair and then pulls me away as he inspects the rest of me.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. He’s just hurting, Daddy.”
“Oh, he will be, Princess.”
My guts tighten. I know there’s nothing I can say that will convince him not to put Buzz to ground. He will just lie to me and tell me he went away. This life has taught me no one just goes away.
“And Brenner?” I ask. He’s a bastard but he’s his son, my brother. I hate parts of him, the dark parts, but there’s the part of me that remembers him as a child. Taking care of me, loving me.
He shakes his head at me and I know he can’t speak the words.
He’s being put to ground too.
“Where are they?” I ask. I need to see them.
“You don’t need to even think about them ever again.”
“Daddy,” I state. “Where are they?”
He nods behind him towards the corridor. “In the cage,” he growls.
I look at his face. Sadness and chaos have aged him, lines crinkle his eyes and grey frosts his hair.
“Are you okay, Daddy?”
“I am now, Princess,” he assures me as he brings me in for another hug.
I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see him again. Buzz implied he may be dead, but I should have known better. My daddy is made of leather and steel, it will take more than a bullet or two to take him out.
The buzz around the club is positive, brothers celebrate my return and the capture of both Brenner and Buzz. Yet the way some of them look at me makes my insides ache. Judgment.
I can’t help it if I’m not a killer like them. I have a fucking soul. Buzz did terrible things but haven’t all of them? Don’t we all deserve redemption?
I’m pulled into hugs by men I’ve known all my life. Kiwi cries when she sees me and holds me longer than any of them. I hold her back and breathe in her scent, she’s been there for me my whole life.
I’m anxious to get to the hospital, but I need to make sure they don’t kill Buzz and Brenner in my absence.
I slip out the main room and down the corridor, to the room they call the cage.
It’s guarded by two brothers I know as Slim and Owl.
“What you doing down this end of the club, Princess?” Owl asks. He’s sweating and it’s not even hot. The scruff on his chin has food stains in it and I try to refrain from gagging.
“I want to see my brother,” I tell him.
He cocks
a thinning brow and smirks over to Slim who’s appraising me with not a subtle look of approval.
“The Prez know you’re here?” Slim asks.
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Dangerous game, Princess,” he warns.
“Can’t you just take a break or something?” I tuck my hair behind my ear and offer the most innocent smile I can muster.
“I like my balls, thank you,” Owl snorts.
“I’ll pay you. Just let me in there to say goodbye to my brother, you know his fate,” I plead.
“I need to take a piss,” Slim suddenly announces. He walks past me and brushes his hand against mine, slipping the keys into my palm. “You’ll owe me one,” he whispers too close to my face. His breath stinks of liquor and cigarettes.
I school my features, so I don’t cringe and offend him.
Owl curses under his breath and points at me. “You got two minutes. If one of them tricks you into getting too close and tries to use you as leverage, I’m shooting them in the face. Their blood will decorate those pretty lips of yours,” he grunts.
I rush to the room and unlock the deadlock. Pushing open the door, I take a deep breath.
My soul tries to flee my body.
Brenner is hunched in the corner of the room, his foot chained to a bolted down iron ring in the center of the room. His body is battered, an array of blue and purple covering every inch of exposed skin. His chest is lifting and falling in broken breaths. He needs medical attention.
“Rhi.” Buzz wisps out my name from the other side of the room. He is tied to a chair. Naked. He’s taken a beating and is bleeding from the nose, mouth and ear.
I rush over and help lift his head that’s lulling from one side to the other, like it’s too heavy for his shoulders.
“I didn’t want this,” I cry.
“This or prison. It was always going to end this way,” he groans.
A sob rips from my throat.
“Don’t fucking cry for me, for us. We’re bad people, Rhi. You’re too good to give a shit about us. Go live your life.”
“I’ll speak to my father, tell him you didn’t hurt me.”
He tries to look at me through his swollen eyes, but his head won’t stay upright. “They found you naked, Rhi, your old man is going to cut my dick off.” He coughs and blood dribbles from his lips.
“He’s going to cut everything off slowly,” Brenner croaks from the floor. “I hope I’m still alive to fucking watch.” He tries to laugh but it comes out a strangled choking sound.
A rap on the door makes me startle.
“Times up,” Owl barks through the wooden panels.
“I’ll fix it,” I promise but I know I have no say it what happens to them.
Wiping my tears, I stand and leave them both.
My soul wilts. They’re going to take Buzz apart in my name and I can’t handle knowing that for the rest of my life.
I nod thanks to both Slim and Owl and skulk off to the bar. Kiwi is pouring drinks behind the bar with some young girl I’ve not seen here before.
She beams her red painted lips at me and places a glass down with soda inside.
“I added a little hit of vodka.” She winks.
I sip the drink and try not to cringe. There’s more vodka than soda and it burns my throat and eyes.
“Thank you,” I offer.
She goes back to busying herself, wiping glasses and placing them on the shelf. I scan the bar and locate her cellphone. My heart thunders inside my ribcage as I slip behind the bar and pretend to grab a packet of nuts from the stash they keep by the soda machine.
“I can make you something cooked if you’re hungry, sweetie,” she coos but I wave her off and lean against the counter, slipping a hand up and pocketing her cellphone.
“No, these are fine, thanks. I need to go back to the hospital anyway,” I tell her and sneak off to the toilet.
My hands shake as I lock the door and pull out the phone.
If this ever gets out, I’m going to be so fucked.
I dial the number and wait for the caller to answer.
Thud.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
26
Avery
Being in regular clothes makes me feel a little more human than the hospital gowns. The nurse said I’m ready to leave but I’m not sure if I am. What awaits me out there?
“I want you to come home,” my father states from the corner of the room where he’s been looming in for the last hour.
There’s nothing I want less.
Why he even came here is beyond me. Where this concern for my wellbeing has come from is not inspiring me to return to his fold. I’m not being used and married off to the highest bidder to strengthen his club.
“Avery,” Dean gasps, coming into my room and ignoring the fact my father is standing there looking menacing as hell.
“My dad has him, they got him,” he hurries out.
My heart pounds heavy in my chest and my stomach knots.
“He has to bring him here for medical attention. But they have him.”
My head buzzes with a million memories of what he did to me.
“When?” I croak.
“Now, they had to call an ambulance. My dad said he’s banged up pretty bad, but he’s alive and will pay for what he did to us. I promise.”
I pull back the covers and Dean helps me to my feet. “What are you doing?” he asks concerned.
I move past him and falter, crashing into my father’s chest. He catches me and rights me to my feet. He doesn’t notice that I’ve taken his knife from the back of his jeans. I slip it up my sleeve and offer my father a smile. “Thanks.”
“It’s okay,” I tell Dean who is by my side fussing. “I just want to go get some air for a second. “
“I’ll come with you,” he tells me.
“No, please, just let me be for a minute.”
He looks conflicted, but my father grabs him by the arm and growls at him to leave me alone.
Pushing through the doors of my room I grab the nearest nurse and ask her where the ambulance would pull in.
Determination pushes me forward.
I take the elevator down, my heart thundering in my ears. The hospital is heaving with patients and visitors, but everyone is so caught up in their own world of pain that no one pays attention to me.
The cold air whips against my skin when I make it outside and panic sets in causing my hands to shake. My steps are careful and slow, but I ignore the ache in my feet and pin myself against the wall at the emergency entrance. This is where he will come in.
Thud.
An ambulance pulls in, and all noise becomes muffled by my own thoughts racing through my head.
The doors open, and they rush a woman out on a stretcher. My energy drains and my soul screams out to me to have the strength I need. I have to do this.
Another ambulance drives up, followed by three police cars. This has to be him.
My hand shakes as my fingers curl around the handle of the knife. He deserves this, worse than this.
The wheels stop and it’s right in front of me.
Fate.
The doors open and there he is. Just right there. A few feet from me.
He’s there!
My throat aches to scream and tears boil and burst from my eyes.
Fuck him. Fuck him!
His wrist is cuffed to the stretcher that he’s sitting on. Tubes snake into his arm. One of the paramedics is trying to get him to wear an oxygen mask.
Sheriff Myers is in there with him, glaring at him like he’s the purge of earth. He is.
My eyes clash with the sheriff’s and his brow furrows. It takes him a second but then his eyes drop to the knife I’m holding.
Time slows, and a swarm of hummingbirds begin pounding at my eardrums.
The Sheriff holds his hands up and mouths something I can’t make out.
“Don’t do it, Avery. It’s over,
he’s going to pay.” His voice penetrates the thickness of my sorrow, wrapping itself around me like vines and dragging me under to hell.
Brenner looks down to where the Sheriff is staring and smirks; that disgusting fucking smirk that haunts my waking hours. Those dead cold eyes peer into me and see all the damage he’s done to my soul.
He’s destroyed me. I have to work every day, striving not to go insane.
Is this the price I still have to pay? I’m paying for his torture with my sanity. Haven’t I paid enough?
It’s his turn.
He looks like shit but it’s nothing compared to how I looked when I was brought in here after he took everything from me. My flesh cut away. My soul raped from my body.
“He needs to die,” I croak.
“No, he needs to be punished, and jail will do that,” the Sheriff lies.
I scoff because I know this life, men like him, flourish in prison. He will be amongst his own in there.
“Drop the weapon now!” Officers roar at me from the left and right. I hadn’t even noticed them flanking me, holding their weapons aimed at directly at me.
Me. Not him.
Not that murdering piece of shit, but the woman he abused.
“Wait!” Sheriff Myers orders his men. But I’m past caring if they shoot me. I just want them to wait until I’ve killed Brenner first.
Breaking fucking Brenner.
I’ll break him until there’s nothing left.
“It’s okay, Avery. Don’t let him take anything else from you. Give me the knife,” the Sheriff tries to placate.
His words dig into me like a thousand tiny needles.
He steps down from the ambulance and I scream frustration and pain at him.
“He has to die. He killed me!” I pound my free hand against my chest.
Brenner pushes the paramedic away from him and gets to his feet, he has to hunch slightly because he’s cuffed.
“Come back for more, you dirty little whore?” he sneers.
“Shut the fuck up!” Sheriff Myers barks at him, pointing a finger.
“You haven’t got the balls to use that. You didn’t even fight me when I tore up that tight little cunt of yours. Because you liked it, didn’t you?” Brenner mocks.