BRANDED
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His voice dropped as it became desperate, his words pleading with me. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. You’re not gonna like it, but I’ll tell you, but you gotta help me. If he finds out I’ve said anything, I’m a dead man!”
I stared at him bleakly, making the connections in my head. I didn’t want to, because they were going to make things much more complicated, but I couldn’t help it. Blade was a Slayer. Leader of the Slayers, as a matter of fact. This man, whoever the hell he was, was also a Slayer. But he was handed over by his boss for the sake of “good faith.” Which meant one of two things. Either Blade was really trying to put his best foot forward, especially since he’d messed up our initial meeting, or he didn’t give a shit altogether. I was inclined to think the latter of the two, which led to the second part of that. If he didn’t give a shit, this wasn’t a good faith present. It wasn’t a bribe or a show of solidarity, but a means to an end.
Blade gave me this man for a reason, but it wasn’t the one he said. Which told me it was pretty likely that whatever I promised him or whatever he told me, he was already dead.
I almost told him that, almost told him it was out of my hands, but it had been my experience that when men knew there was no hope, they weren’t interested in telling you the truth anymore. So I kept my mouth shut about that and lied to him. “Fine. If you give me something good, something useful, I’ll take care of you.”
I saw the hope blooming in his eyes, wild and almost frantic. It made my stomach churn, but I didn’t care. This was business and sometimes lying was a part of that business.
“Okay, okay,” he said, now sounding eager. “I’ll tell you everything.”
I highly doubted that, but let him speak. I knew the beating part of this wasn’t over; it was hard to say if the man had more to worry from the Slayers, or from me.
“It’s all about this video…”
I sat up in bed, because I didn’t want to remember the end of that conversation. I didn’t want to remember anything from last night.
Well, maybe not anything.
I thought of Lucy with her legs wrapped around my middle as I thrust into her. She hadn’t complained when I told her it wouldn’t be gentle, and when shoved her up against that wall, she had been more than willing to give me anything and everything I needed.
That had been the only good thing about that night. Lucy usually was. It didn’t matter how bad the day was, Lucy was always this pretty, sweet thing to come home to. There was more to her than that, of course, a connection between the two of us I couldn’t really explain to someone who didn’t already know, but the fact that she immediately turned me on didn’t hurt either.
But even the great sex hadn’t been enough to chase away the nightmares. Last night they’d been about the man and the things he told me. Things I would never again be able to forget.
There was just too much these days. Too much blood for too many years, and now it was getting closer. It wasn’t just that work was dangerous anymore. Now it was coming home with me. That alone was enough to really worry me. It meant I wasn’t the only target anymore. It meant Lucy was in real danger now, and if I weren’t careful, I was going to lose her.
The thought put a real fear into me and I knew whether that man was lying or not, I had to take him seriously.
Chapter 11
Lucy
I sat in the back room which served as my office. All the legitimate work the club was involved with ran through the Halos & Horns Auto Shop. The members who worked here were good at what they did, some of the best in town, as a matter of fact, but not every member had a knack for mechanics. I sometimes wondered if that was how the Sin Reapers ended up doing some of the more illegal activities. I took some comfort in knowing it was never as bad as some of them were. They didn’t get into running guns or selling things like meth or coke. Mostly they dealt a little weed, maybe speed. Nothing too major, though I would have just as soon they not deal with anything outside the realm of legal.
The office was a somewhat small room, though it was fine for just me. The only time it really felt small was when one of the other guys happened to wander in here looking for one thing or another, though that was rare. The only one who paid me regular visits was Max. And that was how I liked it.
There was a long window that looked out into the shop, but there were blinds that pulled down to block out the view. Important for private meetings, though we had very few of those, and important for when Max stopped by unexpectedly and decided he needed me. We’d had sex on the desk I currently sat at more times than I could remember, and maybe it shouldn’t have been something we did, but I enjoyed every minute of it.
Today I didn’t think would happen, though. I did my best to focus on the work at hand, a stack of papers detailing receipts, body work done, client accounts, and other information I hardly wanted to be going through. Still, the numbers were easy to deal with and at least I didn’t have to worry about violence here. That alone was becoming more important than anything since it now seemed like even home wasn’t safe. Not really.
I managed to get lost in my work, at least a little bit. I was focusing on the numbers and papers, inputting things into the computer, until I was off in my own world. It was nice to forget everything, but it also meant I wasn’t paying attention. I hadn’t noticed Bills as he walked past my window—you had to to get around to the only door into the room—and turned the knob to open the door.
My head jerked up when I heard the door push open and my heart leapt into my throat when I saw it was Bills who walked in. Worse, he closed the door behind him.
Panic suddenly swept me, causing a surge of instinct telling me to either fight or run. Neither was a good idea, but for a long moment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was important for me to get out of there. Now.
Forcing myself to calm down, I cleared my throat and made myself stand. I remained behind the desk and kept my eyes slightly lower than his so I wouldn’t have to stare into them. They were one of the things about Bills that made me uncomfortable, though I couldn’t say exactly why. “Can I help you with something?” I asked, bracing my arms on the desk so they wouldn’t shake.
I saw Bills’ thin lips pull into a smirking kind of smile that made me uncomfortable. He looked pale and there were beads of sweat trickling down over his bare head. I imagined there was eagerness or…or maybe something more sinister lurking in his eyes.
“I just wanted to come in and check on you,” he told me, his voice gravelly, like he was a perpetual smoker.
“Check on me?” I repeated, confused.
He nodded once, taking a step into the room. Getting closer to me made me wish the room were bigger and the windows were wider and we weren’t so alone. Suddenly, I really wanted a second door, one I could dive through and lock behind me when I felt like a cornered animal.
“Yeah. Last night was pretty intense,” he said, trying to sound casual, but I could sense the underlying intensity. I didn’t like it, not one bit, but what was I supposed to do? He was Max’s right hand. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
He took another step closer and I wished I could take a step back, but there was nowhere to go. Besides, Bills was the kind of man who enjoyed a little chase. He liked to sense the fear on his prey and would enjoy it more if I showed obviously that he scared the crap out of me. So instead, I did something brave. I moved away from the desk and went around the side to stand in front of it, effectively putting me much, much closer to Bills.
“I’m fine,” I told him firmly. “Max took care of me. I wasn’t scared.” A lie, which he probably sensed, but the mention of Max’s name would provide more protection from him than just about anything else. Max was his boss and he would kill anyone who touched me without invitation. Period.
Except Bills didn’t seem to get the hint. He stepped closer to me and reached out, his hand trailing down over my arm, leaving me suddenly grateful that I’d worn a blouse with sleeves on it. Even so, the touch sent the
wrong kind of shivers running down my spine.
Bills had always creeped me the hell out, but it was usually from a distance. It wasn’t that he’d never made a pass at me—he had and I’d declined; that was common knowledge—but it hadn’t mattered because he respected my space. Not in the sense that he wouldn’t stand near me or next to me, maybe talk to me, but he wouldn’t step up this close. And he wouldn’t touch me, definitely not like that.
I couldn’t help but pull away from him quickly, though I knew I shouldn’t. But he didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
“Good. If you’re ever not,” he said, his voice low and laced with something I couldn’t place, “you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”
I wanted to tell him Max would take care of it. I wanted to tell Bills there wasn’t a damn thing I wanted from him except to have him leave me the hell alone, but I knew better than that. Bills creeped me out, but there was no denying he’d saved my life before, and probably Max’s, too. Dad had trusted him with his life, but the value of dad’s life in his own mind was pretty questionable these days, and I wasn’t sure if he’d made much better decisions with those he trusted in the past.
“Thanks,” I heard myself say, though I wanted to put some real distance between myself and Bills. “But I’m fine. Really. I’m just busy today and need to get back to work.” I gestured towards my desk and the stack of papers sitting on it. I hoped desperately it was enough for him to take the hint and leave.
He smiled thinly at me, but gave me a quick nod. “Good.”
He left then and I watched him go, keeping my eyes on him until the door closed behind him. Only then did I release the breath I’d been holding. Bills terrified me, and what was worse, I knew that, though he left today, this wouldn’t be the end. Those kinds of guys, the tough guys who just took what they wanted, didn’t just let things go. And they sure as hell didn’t take no for an answer.
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. Bills wasn’t the first guy like that I’d ever met and he wouldn’t be the last.
I was walking home. It was stupid; I should have let my dad give me a ride. But he was fighting with Mom and the fight spilled over until they were yelling at me, too. I wasn’t so fragile that it tore me up inside, but I took it personally.
I was only fifteen, after all.
So instead of being an adult and letting them work their own shit out, I decided I’d walk home. That one decision changed my life.
It was raining and I was cold, but I kept my chin up, pretending like I didn’t give a damn. I was just that tough. The guy started following me maybe a block down from the school. He was big with thick, ropey muscles that maybe some girls found attractive, but I always thought looked a little grotesque. The veins bulged a little, making it look as though he had plastic tubing buried just beneath the skin.
When I noticed he was behind me, easily keeping pace, I started to get a little nervous. There weren’t a lot of people who would pick on me, because I was the Preacher’s daughter, though I didn’t fully understand what that meant. I understood he had a lot of friends with motorcycles and they looked to him for advice. Otherwise, he was just my dad who owned a small auto repair shop.
But maybe that guy didn’t know who I was. I was wearing a skirt and the button-down shirt my mom insisted on because it was picture day and I should look respectable. I could have been anyone that day.
I thought maybe he wasn’t following me. I was walking down the sidewalk on a fairly main road and there were plenty of other people out. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I couldn’t help it. I sped up. He did, too.
My worry was starting to get the best of me, but I didn’t want to run. That would look suspicious, right? So I just stopped instead. I leaned against the wall and dug through my backpack, trying to be casual. I hoped the guy would just keep on walking, telling me in no uncertain terms I was just being crazy.
But he didn’t. When he grabbed my arm, I realized how bad it was.
“Aren’t you a sweet little thing,” he said, grinning widely at me. His breath smelled of booze and something else, sickly sweet.
“Let me go,” I told him, and tried to jerk my arm away, but he held fast. Things were getting worse by the minute. I struggled against him, but he was too strong, those ropey veins enough to drag me into the alley without me being able to do a damn thing about it.
He slammed me against the wall, pressing his body against mine. I hadn’t had sex before, but I knew the look in his eyes and could guess what he wanted. When he pressed his crotch against mine and I felt the bulge pressing against his pants, I got really scared. I realized how badly this would go. I realized, after this moment, I would never be okay again. I blinked back tears, still struggling even though I knew it was useless.
He used one hand to hold me in place, but the other had different plans. It was wandering, feeling up along my bare legs that were slick from the rain, until he got to my thigh. He gave it a squeeze, grinning maliciously down at me. His hand didn’t linger there for long. No, it went higher, traveling up my skirt towards my panties, and I started really freaking out. I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t.
I did the only thing I could do; I screamed. It was loud and echoing, but it was dampened by the weight of the rain and it was short lived. His hand left my crotch—thankfully before he got beneath the fabric of my underwear—and clamped down on my mouth. I continued to struggle and now I was desperate, like a trapped animal. I bit his hand without even thinking about it, making him jerk it back and roar with pain. It was a triumphant moment, but it, too, was short lived. His hand came back and smacked hard across my face, pain searing through my cheek and mouth. My lip tore and I could taste blood. He hit me so hard that I actually slid against the wall and fell to the pavement with a small cry, landing hard.
“Scream again, bitch, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
I cringed, curling in on myself, waiting for the next blow, but it never came. When I looked up, I saw why.
Max.
He was wicked fast and had the guy by his shirt collar at first. He punched him so hard that blood flicked in fat droplets onto the wall and the impact made a sickening sound that echoed through the alleyway. I half wanted to look away, but the rest of me was mesmerized, unwilling to miss even a second of the awesome power that was Max. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed him, but it was the first time I’d truly thought of him as a warrior.
Max hit the guy again and again. He fell to the ground, but still Max went after him. He punched until the man’s face was a deformed, blood-coated version of its former self and Max’s hands were swollen and cut up. Half the blood on them was his, half belonged to the other man. When he finally stopped, it was only because I’d let out a tiny gasp. The man lay unconscious at Max’s feet, but Max’s gaze had flickered to me. His eyes were glassy, dark with simmering anger, but there was a tenderness there that was meant only for me.
I ran to him without even thinking about it, and threw my arms desperately around his middle. I clung to him. Slowly, his arms came around to hold me back. He stroked at my long hair, whispering into my ear, “You’re okay, baby. Everything’s okay now. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
I believed him.
After that, things went quickly between us. We were inseparable. He kissed me in the halls, he pressed me against walls and in stairwells, and sat me on balconies so he could settle between my legs and kiss me. His hands found their way down my pants and he made me feel things I’d never felt before. He brought me to climax before I even really knew what he was doing and when I came down, eyes glassy, I knew I wanted so much more for him.
When I let him have me, all of me, I knew I was getting myself in deep with him.
I remembered picking that day when my parents were gone. I remembered telling him to go upstairs and to wait for me, that I would be right back. And I remembered going back into that room wearing nothing at all, my long hair brus
hed down so it hung loosely down my back, my breasts exposed and my pussy shaved.
Max hadn’t seen it coming and for long moments just stared at me with dark, passionate eyes. I knew he’d been with other women, but I’d never had anyone before and I was nervous. When I stood there too long, starting to cover myself because I was nervous and he was just staring at me, he dove into action.
He came over to me and jerked my hands away from my body, telling me, “Don’t cover yourself up, baby. Don’t you dare hide from me.” And he kissed me. It was hard and needy, a testament to just how much he wanted me.
By the time we broke for air, I was already melting in his arms, my body shaking as need pooled in my belly.
He did everything right, starting with his tongue between my legs to get my comfortable, to get me a little crazy, so by the time he came back up and placed his cock between my legs, there wasn’t any room left for nervousness.
He slid into me slowly, and I didn’t even remember the pinch of pain when he sheathed himself inside of me. Then we made love, because this was my first time and he wanted me to know it could be gentle, if that’s what I wanted. But then we finished and not long after that, we did it again and it wasn’t gentle. We fucked, because he couldn’t contain himself and I didn’t want him to.