“Hm,” he says with a nod.
“If you’re interested, she’s wide open,” I offer softly. I can feel every ounce of confidence that I don’t have seeping through the couch onto the floor. He’s asking too many questions about her to not want to fuck her at the very least.
“I’m not. I do have a question though.”
I raise my eyes toward him and wait.
“Why did you have a girl in the stairwell?”
I let out a heavy sigh.
“I came across her and her pimp last night when he was beating up one of her Johns and rolling him for his money. I felt bad for her, so I paid for her company for the evening. She fell down the stairs, so I left her there,” I reply with a shrug.
“Did you fuck her?” he asks, the ends of his lips curving slightly.
“No.”
“You’re lying. Know how I know? You looked like the aftershock of a sweaty fuck last night when we got here,” he says with a laugh.
“She gave me head.”
“Was it good?”
“I was getting there,” I confess uncomfortably.
Penn laughs and clasps his hands behind his head. But the longer he sits in silence, the more curious I become about something.
“Hey, how did you get into the stairwell anyway?” I ask arching an eyebrow at him.
“Aiden snores. She woke me up, I was bored, I looked around, I heard the groans. I realized the door was locked so I picked it. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“What did you do with her?” I press.
“That’s a surprise for another day,” he says with a smirk. “Don’t you look all sweet and innocent?”
His sudden change of subject confuses me until Aiden’s wet, bare feet slap the floor on her way into the living room.
“What are you two talking about?” she asks, rubbing her damp hair with the towel. She’s wearing a pair of my basketball shorts and is in her bra.
“I was just telling Gray that you snore like a goddamn bull in your sleep,” Penn explains.
“Shut up! No I don’t!” she yells, tossing the towel at him. He laughs and catches it before it hits him and throws it back at her.
“Whatever,” he replies, stealing a glance at me and grinning again.
I clear my throat as I lean back against the couch cushions. “Listen, I’ve got a long day ahead of me, so…”
Aiden rolls her eyes. “Come on Penn. The great master has to get back to his work and he can’t concentrate with an audience.”
They both get to their feet and she tells me that she’ll bring my shorts back some other day to which I agree. I don’t mind when she takes my clothes—she probably has an entire closet full of my shit and I know I’ll get it back one day.
I walk them to the front door and hold it open as they walk through; Aiden first, followed by Penn. Just as I’m about to close the door and head back upstairs, Penn turns around and pops up the collar of his jacket before he smooths it out.
“I’ll see you around, Gray,” he says, glancing at the staircase door behind me.
I feel uneasy, sick. There’s something not right about Penn and coming from me—that means a hell of lot more than it would coming from anyone else.
Penn has secrets that I need to find out because if he’s willing to hide one of mine, he obviously has the upper-hand in whatever game he seems to have just initiated.
Chapter Eight
“I just don’t get it, you know? How he can be so okay with what he found or how he could just get rid of it without telling me what he did and act like it was just another day in his life,” I muse with a sigh. “He’s not like me—he looks much too delicate, too fragile to be able to do the things that I’ve done, but he seems to have the same disregard for inferior stock like I do. Of course, he could just be fucking with my head like everyone likes to do for some reason.”
I shift on the stool and cross my arms over my chest, the sound of the thick, plastic apron squeaking slightly as I tighten my arms.
“Do you think I have a chance? I think I’m okay looking enough to at least blow him, don’t you?” I ask.
A muffled grunt is the reply and I’m not entirely sure why I expected conversation. The pet I’ve been working on had its mouth sewn shut two days into the transformation because it wouldn’t stop screaming and crying. Lately, though, I’ve been thinking of undoing the stitching because its become much more compliant, but I can’t. Part of the order was for a quiet one and the only way I could think of making that happen was to seal its mouth permanently.
“Can you at least nod or shake your head when I ask you this next question?” I beg, glancing at it. It nods and waits. “Okay,” I say as I blow out my breath, “would you want me? If circumstances were different, I mean. Like would you fuck me?”
It blinks rapidly a few times, obviously shocked at my question, but I can’t help it. I have no self-confidence these days and that’s why I throw myself into my work. While it’s true that I have the traits of someone who gives no fucks about how anyone perceives me, how I perceive myself is important, and it’s just not there anymore.
“Would you?” I ask it again nervously. I bite my lower lip while it ponders my question, taking me in as best as it can from the table it’s strapped to, before it looks back up into my eyes and nods once.
I let out a huge sigh of relief and smile. Before I acquired it, it was so beautiful. I watched it for days and nights on end wondering why someone would want something so magnificent to be transformed into a pet, but that wasn’t up to me and the money had already been transferred so I took it and began my work.
I don’t think it hates me like it used to, and I don’t think it minds when I’m around anymore. Even though it knows that comes with more modifications and with some pain, I do my best to be quick and always attempt to dull the senses of my projects before I make any nicks or cuts.
I may be nothing more than a man, but when it comes to my work, I’m God and they know it. I can make them into anything that’s desired and I can destroy them just the same.
The alpha and the omega.
“Okay, well,” I say, getting to my feet, “since you’ve been honest with me, I’ll leave you alone for a few days. You’re not due for completion until the end of next week anyway so we have some time.”
It closes its eyes and straightens its head again. It has nothing left to offer me right now because its upset that I won’t finish it tonight. I understand that, but I’m a perfectionist and we do have time, so it will have to figure out how to deal with working on my schedule.
I take the apron off and hang it on the door on my way out. I only wear that when I plan major modifications, and since I’ve had my little confidence boost, I don’t think I’m in the mood for work.
I’d rather lounge around or maybe see if I can find Julie. It would be interesting to know where in the building she is or at the very least what Penn has done with her.
I lock the door to my workshop and walk down the hallway toward the elevator. I’m so lost in my own little fantasy world where Penn and I are a thing, that when the elevator doors open, and I step in, I find myself wondering if maybe Aiden would give me his phone number.
Not that I’d ever use it, I think with a sigh as I push the button to take me to the second floor.
As I make my way down the hallway toward the door down below, I find myself staring at the back of Aiden, who’s hand slapping at the door.
“Hey,” I call out curiously.
She turns around and even in the dim light I can see that’s something’s wrong. I can see the tears streaming down her face, black from the mascara that she wore the night before and smeared on the back of her hands.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask walking over to her quickly.
But when she collapses into my arms, I see that the tears aren’t from sadness, they’re from laughter and she’s shaking much too hard to tell me what’s gotten to her. I push open the door and take
her inside, walking her over to the couch and sit her down, my arm wrapped loosely around her shoulder.
Patience has never been one of my virtues unless it’s when I’m working and Aiden’s hollow laughter—her gasps for air, are starting to grate on my nerves.
“Get a grip, kid,” I say to her through grit teeth. “You sound like a dying seal.”
Aiden pulls away from me, lays on her back, and places her feet on my chest. I hold my arms out to my sides and raise an eyebrow. At this point, I’m starting to think she’s lost her goddamn mind, until she taunts me.
“You’ll never guess what I found out?” she asks, in a sing-song tone. She wipes away the tears again and tilts her head to the side.
“What?”
“He’s coming back,” she declares, her eyes wide with joy and terror alike.
Chapter Nine
"Who is?” I ask, moving her feet off of my chest.
“Max,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “who the else would I be talking about?”
“Oh,” I say, in realization. I get her mania now. Max is the big motherfucker that knocked her teeth out and almost put her in the hospital. “Okay, and?”
Aiden sighs and sits up, pushing her hair behind her ears. “And I’ve got another chance to show him what’s up and redeem myself from last time.”
I eye Aiden wearily. Max Boothe is about six-foot-three and is two-hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle. The fact that Aiden even survived the first round was a fucking miracle in itself and she wants to fight him again?
“What if I say no?” I ask counter.
“Then you say no. You’re not my father, uncle, grandfather, brother, husband, or boyfriend. I don’t need your permission to fight anyone,” she huffs, getting to her feet and moving over to the recliner.
“How much is it worth?” I ask, doing mental calculations in my head. Those bare-knuckle fuckers make bank when they win, and I know that Aiden has every intention of winning, but I also think I have enough left to bribe her out of doing it.
“More than you’ve got,” she replies with a smirk. “This is the rematch of the century and people are coming out for this one by the dozens—lots of money getting tossed at us for it.”
“You already agreed to it?” I ask her incredulously. How the hell did she find the time to do this since this morning? I sigh. Considering Aiden is a big draw just herself, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had an organizer waiting for her when she got home this morning.
“Yup, and the cock du jour is putting a ton of money on me winning,” she states proudly.
I wrinkle my nose at her. Sometimes she says the craziest shit and it usually gets a laugh out of me, but I don’t find the humor in this.
That reminds me.
“Aiden? Penn says he’s never seen you fight before, but I could swear that I saw him at one of your bouts. Am I crazy?” I ask, running a hand over my face.
“Well, that’s obvious. You are crazy, but you’re letting your crush take over your senses,” she says, pulling her legs underneath her. “Honestly, I don’t know if he’s ever been to one of my fights. That’s not how I met him, remember?”
I let my breath out in a huff and fall back against the couch cushions, my arms at my sides, and nod.
“I know.”
“Does that bother you still?” she asks softly.
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
I can feel the agitation rising in me, so I decide to change the subject.
“What’s the biggest bet going right now?” I ask, letting my eyes drift toward the ceiling.
“I think it’s Penn’s,” she replies with a laugh.
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
Fucking trust fund kid.
“Okay, well, let me know when the fight is, and I’ll come,” I say, finally relenting. There’s nothing I can say or do that will make Aiden walk away from that kind of cash.
“It’s on Thursday night.”
“Aiden, it’s fucking Sunday,” I reply, staring at her.
“You know that’s one of the many things I like about you, Gray—you’re so goddamn smart,” she says with a laugh.
I grit my teeth and tear my eyes away from her again. Aiden’s not being cruel to me and she’s not mocking me. She’s always been kind to me and she’d never say anything that she knows will afflict my soul further than it’s already broken, but sometimes, the things she says does manage to hurt—even if it’s just a little sting.
“I know what might make you feel better,” she says as she leans forward on the recliner and smiling at me.
I grunt.
I don’t know what she’s offering but she knows if it’s anything other than her friendly company, I’m not interested.
“Wanna shape me up?”
A small smile plays across my lips as I feel the anger and hurt leave me almost immediately.
“Get off your ass and get into the bathroom, you little shit. Let’s make you presentable.”
Aiden laughs and gets to her feet, then walks over to where I’m sitting and pulls me off the couch.
“Can I buzz you?” I ask her playfully as I rub the top of her head.
“I need to go short for this fight, but not that short,” she replies, laughing again.
I smile as she throws an arm around my waist and let her light up with excitement all the way to the bathroom. I have to start thinking of Aiden as the tough girl she is because she won’t hesitate to remind me or attempt to put me in my place.
I’ll still do my best to talk her out of it and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll take her place. I’ve never been in an organized bare-knuckle fight, but I refuse to let her get hurt again the way she did before.
Besides, maybe if Penn sees what I’m capable of, he’ll tell me what the fuck he did with Julie instead of making me wonder where in the building she could possibly be.
Chapter Ten
It’s Monday, mid-morning, and I’ve spent all of this time holding the punching bag at Aiden’s place while she lays into it.
The fight between her and Max is inevitable, but with her snazzy new ‘do, she seems to have renewed focus on getting in as much training as she can before the event.
I have an idea that will help her. Nothing that will be considered cheating, just something that might save her jaw this time from some painful dental surgery. Once I get home tonight, I’ll get started on it, but first I need her to stop hitting this thing and give me something that I’ll need for it.
“Wanna take a break there, champ? I think this thing is leaving an impression in my chest.”
Aiden laughs and gives the bag one last good punch before she stands straight up and runs a gloved hand back through her hair.
“Can’t have that. Wouldn’t want you to have to explain to Penn how that happened,” she teases with a mischievous smile.
“Give it a fucking rest already, Aiden,” I grumble, heading out of her workout room. I walk into the living room where I left my bag and Aiden’s girlish giggles follow me all the way there.
I roll my eyes.
She’s obviously not going to be happy until either I fuck him, or he tells me to fuck off. Aiden throws herself onto her patchwork couch while I pull the contents of my bag out. I can feel her eyes on me, the curiosity burning a hole into my back while I get to my feet with my stuff.
“Do you have a mixing bowl or some shit you don’t mind tossing?” I ask her, walking toward the kitchen.
“All of them!” she calls out and I laugh.
As I reach for a big, orange plastic bowl I find myself wondering when the last time was that I’ve ever seen Aiden cook anything.
It doesn’t take me very long to mix the plaster and when I call out to Aiden to move her ass, she comes into the kitchen quickly.
“What is that?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Open your mouth,” I say softly, holding up the small block.
“For what
? I’m not putting that in my mouth, Gray,” she replies, shaking her head vehemently.
“Just open your goddamn mouth, Aiden,” I bark at her. “I’m trying to save some money on another round of unnecessary dentistry.”
She scowls at me and crosses her arms over her chest, a pout prominent on her pretty face, but she relents, and does as I ask her to.
“Bite down hard,” I instruct her. I need a deep enough cast to be able to mold her a set of mouth guards that I know will hold under the pressure of a hit from Max.
Drool slips down the side of her mouth and she attempts to whine, tapping her wrist.
“About forty-five minutes. I can’t wait to enjoy the silence,” I reply with a sly grin.
She mumbles angrily through the block, but I reach over and place a hand gently on either side of her face. “If you fuck this up, we have to do it again. Stay still.”
Her eyes widen in disbelief, but she leans against the counter and turns her eyes toward the clock on the wall. It won’t really take forty-five minutes, but with her training, she has to learn discipline, and this is my way of making her relearn it.
Plus, I really am looking forward to the silence. The longer she keeps her mouth busy, the less I have to hear comments about Penn.
The ringtone from Aiden’s cell phone starts chiming from her bedroom and she sighs, wiping the drool from her chin as she carefully makes her way to retrieve it. She returns a few moments later, the phone still ringing, and holds it up, a curious look in her eyes to show me the caller ID.
I lean down and narrow my eyes because she’s so goddamn tiny, it’s hard for me to see it from up here.
Penn.
I roll my eyes and start packing up what’s left of my provisions, intent on getting away from her teasing, when she grabs my arm and shakes her head. I raise an eyebrow and reach for the phone, sliding the answer button just in time to hear the line click dead.
“He hung up as soon as I answered,” I mumble, handing it back to her.
He probably knew it was me. Probably felt my fucking heart beating through the phone at the possibility of hearing his voice again.
Death Blooms Page 4