Ice

by Chelsea Camaron

  I don’t bother explaining shit to anyone. Screech will get the information I need and get it to my brother. I hand him my phone as I point to Hammer and then the door. Then I signal for Coal to continue the meeting and try to see if we are missing anything.

  Running out of the building, I hop in my truck. Hammer follows suit, not climbing on his bike. If Madyson is as bad as Brooke says, there is no way it’s safe for her to ride.

  Pulling up to yet another obnoxiously large house, with cars parked everywhere in front of it, I get out of my truck. Only, this time, I don’t have to look for my daughter. Instead, I find her on the front porch, holding her friend close to her side. When she sees me, she drops Madyson without thinking and runs towards me. Madyson slumps over slowly, falling onto the porch. Brooke hugs me tight, and I can feel the wetness on her cheeks from crying.

  “Daddy,” she whispers, gripping me tighter and crushing me a little more inside.

  My mind drifts back to the first time I held her. I thought for sure I would drop her or let her down. I wanted to run, to hide, to scream, and hell, cry. I was a barely eighteen-year-old dipshit, scared shitless of something that weighed six pounds. Then her eyes struggled to blink, but they opened. Slowly but surely, she looked at me and saw straight into my soul. I would never drop her, I would never let her down, and I damn sure would never let her go. For in those baby blue eyes was my entire being looking back at me. Nothing in my entire life will ever compare to having her.

  Holding her close, I watch as Hammer effortlessly scoops up an incoherent Madyson to carry her to the truck. I then nod at him and pull away from Brooke to look down at her. In this moment, my teenage daughter doesn’t look like the young woman she is growing into. No, right now she looks like she did when she was seven, and I took the training wheels off her bicycle—scared out of her mind. Yes, baby girl, this too is unchartered territory for us.

  “Brooke—” I start, but she puts up her hand to stop me.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. You were right about everything. We snuck out, and we shouldn’t have. I didn’t think anyone would actually do anything to us. It was supposed to be a good time. Daddy, I’m worried about Madyson,” she whimpers.

  “Let’s go.”

  It was time to teach Morgan Powell, once and for all, that she needed to step up and take better care of her sister.

  Morgan

  “Morgan, you are beautiful,” he whispers in my ear before he kisses down my neck then licks the sensitive curve where it meets my shoulder.

  My body is hot with need. The demand burning deep. With my arms bound above my head by his tie, I lie spread before him, naked as the day I was born, nothing held back. He kisses his way down between my breasts, the gruff feeling of his five o’clock shadow scraping my overly sensitive flesh.

  I wiggle underneath him, seeking more contact, more everything.

  I feel his hands slide up my inner thighs while he begins to give attention to my breasts. The tingle inside me builds. Anticipation.

  Ring.

  What is ringing? There shouldn’t be any ringing here. My dream man wouldn’t dare bring anything that would distract him from his time with me. Shaking my head, I slowly open my eyes. He is gone. There is no tie. I am in my bed, in my dark room, alone. Completely alone.

  Always alone.

  Turning my head, I see my phone lighting up on my nightstand. The time on my alarm clock reads a little after midnight. Grabbing the annoying dream-interrupting device, I slide it over to answer without looking at the caller ID.

  “Hello,” I manage to answer, though I am unable to hide the sleep in my voice.

  “You would think, when you have someone else’s kid at your place, you would, I don’t know, stay the fuck awake until they go to sleep.”

  “Huh, who is this?” I ask, suddenly very confused.

  “Brooke’s dad. I had to go pick up my daughter and your sister tonight, while you were counting sheep.”

  Oh, no, no, no! I thought she was doing better. We had a long talk about the fact that I can’t be worrying over her and this rebellious stage. I need to focus on work and providing for us. Since she has been here for a few weeks, without giving me any problems, I never thought she and her friend would sneak out. Heck, I baked cookies with them tonight before bed. We did face masks, painted nails, and all that teenage girl sleepover stuff.

  Brooke seemed like a nice enough girl, making me feel like they would behave. How did they leave? Why did they leave?

  “Are they okay?” I ask as my anxiety rises.

  “No,” he barks out at me.

  Tears pool behind my eyes. My sister is misunderstood. She has lived her entire life in my shadow with impossible parents who have unrealistic expectations. Not only have I failed her, but now Brooke, too.

  “Get your ass over to my house. Madyson was slipped something. I have my doctor coming over to check her out, but she is gonna want you when she starts comin’ around.” Before I can reply, he disconnects the call.

  Well, asshole, I would come over, but I don’t know where you live. My phone pings with a text of his address and gate code before I can let my thoughts further consume me.

  Pulling up to the house, I see it is far from modest. Not as big as my parents yet certainly more welcoming. First impressions would say this is a family home. I would envision a businessman in a suit living here, a far cry from what I know I will find.

  When I reach the front door, I don’t even have to ring the bell as the door is opened by another guy in a leather vest I have never seen before. His strong jawline and stern face let me know he is not the welcoming committee.

  “Hammer, send her back. No time for her to ogle the damn house,” I hear the voice of my nightmares yell out.

  I roll my eyes, and the guy who is apparently Hammer smiles at me. “I wouldn’t do that around Ice if I were you.”

  “Who is Ice?” I find myself asking in a whisper. I met the guy with the patch ‘Ice’ briefly the night he dropped Madyson off, but I am not sure who he is exactly.

  “Brooke’s dad. He doesn’t much like it when she rolls her eyes. As cute as you are, he won’t take that shit from you, either.”

  Involuntarily, I roll my eyes again. This causes Hammer to laugh, and for some reason, it relaxes me. He is a guy I am sure I should be seriously afraid of, but in this moment, my fears and insecurities are wrapped up in a dad that goes by the name of Ice. Shaking my head, I try to push aside all my thoughts while I follow Hammer inside to find my sister.

  “How is Madyson? What happened? They were in bed when I went to my room, I swear,” I ask frantically as I make my way farther into the house.

  “She was roofied at a party they apparently snuck out and went to. We got the doc to check her out. It has to pass through her system. She’s gonna feel like shit for the next day or so, but no long term effects. Brooke knew something was wrong and called her dad, and we went and picked them up. Follow me, they’re back in the guest suite.”

  The sounds coming from the room let me know someone is seriously sick. Oh, Madyson, what did you get yourself into?

  Entering the room, it is something from a magazine or an advertisement. The room that Hammer called the guest suite on the bottom floor gives off an upscale hotel feel rather than the cozy comforts of home vibe. My sister is lying in a bed, puking into a trashcan that Brooke is holding while visibly trying not to puke herself. The sight would be funny if the situation were not so serious.

  “Yack it up. Remember every fucking minute of this. When you two think of pulling some shit like this again, remember tonight. Remember the fear, remember the sickness, and remember the punishment,” Ice is barking out at the two girls. “Because this is far from over. You both are grounded. I don’t give a shit if you aren’t mine, Madyson. Your sister obviously isn’t equipped to tackle you, so I’m gonna handle it for her.”

  “Excuse me,” I interrupt sharply. “How about I talk to the girls to find out what happened? Th
en I can determine an appropriate punishment.”

  “Or how about you sit your pretty little ass on the other side of that bed with your sister and let me make sure these two think twice before they do this again?”

  “I’m sure they get the point, and they will get it a lot clearer after we’ve all had some rest and recovered. You can preach to them all you want after my sister is able to keep a meal down; deal, papa bear?”

  “Awe, look at you being all cute,” he states sarcastically as his dark brown eyes glittering with rage, stares me down, trying to intimidate me.

  Honestly, I want to run and hide in a closet because the guy could totally squash me. However, there is something about him that makes me want to challenge him. Maybe because he is a complete jackass every single time I have had to deal with him, or maybe he brings that out in everyone. I don’t know, but I don’t plan on putting up with his attitude much longer.

  “Daddy, please. Yell at me tomorrow, but don’t be mad at Morgan. She didn’t know we had plans. Hell, we didn’t even have a car. She seriously thought we were asleep. Mady and I have learned our lesson, but you can teach us more tomorrow if you will be nice to Morgan.” Her teenage eyes tear up as she defends me.

  Ice stares silently at his daughter for what feels like hours yet is really only seconds. Then he glances over to me as my sister moans when she sits up to find me.

  “I’m sorry, Morgan,” Madyson whispers as tears freely flow down her face when her eyes finally find mine.

  My poor little sister is hurting. There is so much here that Ice doesn’t know. There is a pain in her eyes that goes far beyond her being drugged tonight. I don’t care what this man says; I do know how to handle my sister. I didn’t see it before, but she needs me. She needs understanding and, most of all, someone to give her unconditional love. I have spent my whole life being what my parents wanted me to be for my sisters, whereas I should have been more of a sister instead of trying to be their savior while I was there.

  From this night forward, that is what she and Mallory will have from me. The sister they deserve, the support system they need, and the love they deserve.

  Chapter

  6

  Ice

  Drama, drama, drama. It is always some sort of drama with the new girls at After Midnight. Someone took someone else’s shit. Why did Suzie fuckin’ Sunshine make headliner when I didn’t, and my boobs are bigger? What do you mean I can’t suck his cock during a VIP dance?

  Aggravating bitches.

  In my mind, it is simple—dance. They get paid to dance, nothing more, nothing less. Why can’t they be like the guys over at Alibi? Very rarely do we have issues amongst them. It seems like every time we get a new girl, there has to be some sort of drama for a bit until everyone settles back down.

  My head is pounding. I have spent the last hour listening to the cat fight coming out of the dressing room. I am two seconds from shoving a ball gag in both their mouths, chaining them to the poles, and burning all their shit. I guarantee they won’t like my version of BDSM. There would be no pleasurable spankings and orgasms. Nope. In fact, I wouldn’t touch them at all, but they would probably call me a sadist after they stared at the ashes of what used to be all of their expensive stage costumes.

  The worst of the bunch, Ariana and Marisa, have been at each other over every little thing for three nights now. That is three nights too many, and I sure as shit won’t listen to that nonsense for another three nights.

  Add to my mind the thoughts continuing on a loop about Morgan and Madyson Powell, and I am in serious need of a punching bag or fresh pussy to pound out my frustrations.

  Morgan spent two days at my house with her sister. Two days of agony as she had to wear my daughter’s clothes—clothes that happened to be tight in all the right places—around me at every turn.

  Madyson was miserable for about thirty-six hours. I hope she has been scared straight. Watching Madyson seemed to show Brooke I wasn’t the warden holding her prisoner as much as I am a dad who doesn’t want her hurt. I have already lost my wife; there is no way I would ever survive losing my baby girl, too.

  I may have underestimated Morgan, though. She is a quiet, contained source of strength. Not once has she yelled, raised her voice, or cast judgment on her sister. Calmly, patiently, and lovingly, she has been there for her sister all the way. Her sister who, from what Brooke tells me, has been kicked out by her parents when I thought she had chosen to leave.

  Is the teen girl a handful? Sure thing, but so is Brooke at times. From what I gather, her parents are not the supportive type. The family dynamic of their home is strange at best. According to Brooke, Madyson doesn’t really have anyone, yet Morgan tries her best to be there for her. This situation seems to be bringing the siblings closer together.

  Seeing the two sisters interact with each other has made me wonder. Does Brooke need more? Watching Morgan be there for Madyson is a stark reminder that all Brooke has is me and my brothers in the club. Parenthood is tough shit—the balance of letting go and holding on. I could survive in a desert without supplies for weeks easier than I can navigate my way through raising my daughter alone.

  “Yo,” Coal greets, entering my office and sitting on the couch in front of my desk.

  Looking up, I meet the cold stare of a very pissed off, naturally brooding man. This is not good.

  “Problem?” I question, knowing something serious has brought him in my office with that look.

  “Crissy says she thinks we need to test some girls.”

  “Test some girls? Call the doc for pussy problems. I don’t want to know anything that deals with what’s between their legs. All I care about is that they’re not giving their customers the sort of souvenirs that might broadcast what they’ve been up to. No one likes the gift that keeps on giving.” Coal shakes his head, and I go alert. “We have a bigger issue on our hands?”

  “Drug tests. She thinks it may extend beyond the stable,” Coal states, not hiding his agitation.

  Crissy is our After Midnight aunt, as she likes to call herself. She came to us four years ago, hooked on meth. Her mother pimped her out, starting at ten years old, to maintain her own habits. She was a skeleton covered in scars and sores when she literally stumbled into the wrong drug deal going very bad. Hammer saw her in the shadows and tried to stop her from coming out into the open, only she was too tweaked to see the slight shake of his head. When she came out, the overly anxious dealer panicked and pulled his piece on us. It is a kill or be killed world sometimes.

  After that night, we sent Crissy to rehab, but she had nowhere to go when she got out. No plan, no escape, no world. That is a sure fire way to relapse; therefore, we took her in. Twice she has lost her footing and taken the hit, but currently she is nine hundred eighty-two days clean and completely sober. She doesn’t drink, smoke cigarettes, or sell her pussy anymore. It has taken work, but she is solid. With her history, she can spot a user from a mile away.

  “She would know. Set it up. If Crissy feels we need it, we need it. Hell, we probably need to do them more regularly anyway.”

  “It means she gets tested, too,” Coal adds, watching me.

  “She wouldn’t call for a test if she was using.”

  “You don’t think testing her will make her think we don’t trust her? It could send her the wrong message, tempt her.” Coal may be a bastard, but there is a heart in there somewhere. I think.

  “Nah, she’s solid. I wish I could say that for everyone else around us.”

  “I’ll get it set up for first thing tomorrow morning.”

  We have a zero tolerance policy on drug use. The Regulators have a strict code for our members and employees. We provide a safe environment for people to come off the street and rebuild their lives. Crissy is one example. When she came to us, she had no job skills. We kept finding her selling sexual favors out on the street. That is a dangerous game to play. A John could get her in a situation and inject her with something, and she would
be back to broken. If she was going to do it, we were going to keep her safe. That is how she came to work for us.

  We don’t keep a stable of hookers selling pussy like bets at a racetrack. There is no picking your top three contenders. Rather, we allow the women who wish to keep their sobriety on track, while rebuilding their lives, an opportunity to choose their clients, and we keep them safe while they handle their business. Instead of the John picking the girl, it is the girl picking her John. The agreement allows us to provide clean women to our associates while both the girls and Johns know the customers won’t cross the lines set between them or face the wrath of my club.

  The women in those beds are there by choice with the freedom to stop any time. Unfortunately, most of them have a background that doesn’t leave them many options. Crissy has said many times she stays clean knowing, if she messes up, it is the door for her. I would hate to see that happen as the woman has shown nothing other than loyalty to my brothers and me. Rules are rules, though, and contrary to some people’s thoughts, they aren’t always meant to be broken.

  Looking back to my paperwork, I sigh. It is always something around here. Dealing with bullshit has a way of making a man feel old before his time. Luckily, there is always a woman ready to spread her legs for me to make me feel young again.

  Morgan

  A month later…

  “Oh, my God, what have you done?” I ask as I enter Brooke’s kitchen to pick up Madyson.

  “Ummm, hi, Morgan,” my sister greets innocently. A little too innocently considering the sight in front of me.

  The kitchen is a disaster. An entire container of flour must cover every inch of countertop and the floor. I see a bowl of what looks like an egg mixture, possibly with milk, sitting out on the counter with black specks floating in it. There are packages of cookies laid out across the table, the counter, and even one on the floor. The popping of the deep fryer scares me as I continue to take in the disaster before me.