by Lyra Parish
“Now what?” Jennifer startled me when she spoke from behind me.
I turned and shook my head. “All right. Call me when you land in Houston,” I said, then ended the call.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked again, but this time a hint of worry met her voice, causing it to crack. I wrapped my arms around her body, and she looked up at me.
“Abbot. He’s coming to Texas.”
She pushed back from me but didn’t walk away. I released a slow breath, wanting her to stay calm, but I could tell that she was slowly unraveling. Though I knew terrible thoughts were racing through her head, I wouldn’t lie. Solid relationships weren’t built on lies, and I refused to create false hope. She had to know the truth.
“Jesse is in Texas. I don’t know where, but she is. Now listen to me. She isn’t going to ruin our plans. Don’t let this worry you. Houston is one of the largest cities in the state, and I’m not running from her.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I said.
“You saw her, didn’t you? You saw her down there in the crowd.”
I swallowed, not wanting to answer the question. “I’m not sure. I thought I did, but I didn’t see her when I looked again.”
“I’m going to kill her, Finnley. I’m sick of her shit already. I’m done feeling weak because of her. I don’t want to be weak anymore. I’m fucking done. If she knows what’s good for her, she will stay away from me. I have too much anger inside me right now because of her.”
“Oh shit. You really are feisty today. I fucking love this side of you.”
I pushed her against the wall and lifted both her hands above her head. She didn’t struggle but smiled seductively, then whispered, “fucking give it to me, take away my worry.”
JENNIFER
Eight
He grabbed my wrists and slammed them against the wall. I loved that he wasn’t treating me like a fragile little doll. I loved Finnley’s sweet side, but there were times when I just wanted him the way we used to be—the banter, the chase, the hot sex. God, I wanted that to last forever.
I’d read about too many couples in Cosmo, who were so comfortable with each other that their sex lives basically died. I didn’t want that to happen, ever.
His tongue flicked up my neck, across my jawbone¸ and met my mouth. The intensity grew, and I just couldn’t wait another minute to have him. He stood so close in front of me that we were almost touching. No words passed between us, just the air of our breaths. I arched my back and pressed my body close to his. He let go of my wrists and unzipped his pants. I looked around and saw that no one but us were in the low-lit hallway. His hands drifted up my leg until he was touching my center.
“No fucking panties. Naughty, naughty girl.”
“You would have just ripped them anyway.”
“You’re learning,” he said and growled.
I wrapped a leg around his waist and he thrust himself inside me. Length and girth filled every inch of me, and I gasped. He placed his hand softly over my mouth, and stared into my eyes as he pushed just an inch deeper. My body crumbled around him. Knowing someone could walk around the corner at any moment made it that much hotter. His hand grabbed my ass and he squeezed. Then pushed himself in and out of me. All of my worries instantly disappeared. I disappeared. It was just Finnley and me.
After a few more moments, we were both panting. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged as he bit my bottom lip. It was almost too much to handle. We were starved for each other, not able to get enough to be satisfied. It didn’t matter how many times I had him today, I wanted—no, needed—more. It was as if I were tied in a tight knot and Finnley had found the end of the string to untie me, unravel me, and make me into whatever he wanted. As he pushed deeper inside me, his breath danced across the softness of my neck, and I completely lost control. I was no longer Jennifer Downs: I was Finnley Felton’s. Something inside me was breaking as he fucked me against the wall with everything he was, and he was piecing me back together as his own.
Jesse had nothing. I had everything.
Deeper. Harder.
I was moaning and didn’t care who heard. His hands memorized every inch of my body as he molded and shaped me like clay. He stopped moving for a brief second, and I silently I begged for him to give it to me all over again. The void that had previously filled me was replaced with something else: Finnley fucking Felton. And I loved every single moment. My body ached for him, and when he picked up the pace, it was instant gratification. His fingers dug into my thigh, but the pain shot spikes of pleasure, and I knew that if he kept going deep and hard, I would soon lose myself. The build moved in my stomach until every muscle in my body tensed. I was savoring the moment I had craved so badly. He continued to fuck me, moaning into my mouth as he kissed me, until I couldn’t take it any longer. The orgasm completely overtook every single cell in our bodies as we lost ourselves in the moment, panting and loving.
He leaned over and kissed my neck, then nibbled on my ear.
I sighed with happiness. Though we had just fucked like primal animals against a wall, I wanted more of him. “I can’t get enough of you. Thank you for loving me.”
“Thank you for saving me,” he said.
“You didn’t need saving.”
“Everyone needs saving sometimes,” he said, then gently pressed his lips against mine.
We rearranged our clothes, and I excused myself to the bathroom to clean up. As soon as I walked out, Tash came around the corner and laughed when she saw us. I glanced at Finnley, who leaned against the wall with swollen lips and messy hair. I knew exactly what we looked liked. She clapped slowly and looked us both up and down. “Someone has already christened this place. Damn. I really thought it would be me.”
Heat rushed to my face, and Finnley shot her his signature side smirk that made his bottom lip look suckable. Between those lips and that hair, damn, I was a lost cause. Add the suit, which was enough to make any woman completely lose it, that sexy voice, and that snarky ass attitude … I openly sighed as I admired him. He shot me a confused look, then glanced back at Tash. I couldn’t even deny what had happened, and thankfully, her timing had been perfect. Just a few minutes sooner and she would have witnessed one of the best orgasms of my life … or would have ruined it.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, and it all hit me at once. I was undeniably, madly in love with Finnley Felton. I tried to imagine my life without him, and I couldn’t. I tried to imagine the next five years without him, and it didn’t seem possible. Every thought included him, and for the first time, it didn’t scare me at all.
I looked forward to my future with Finnley.
I was a woman in love with a man who would rock my fucking world any moment I wanted. He was mad about me, and just knowing that made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Maybe Lady Luck really did love me, or Cupid did; either way, I had someone to thank.
“You’re looking at me like I’m chocolate,” Finnley said as we followed Tash to the bar.
“I’d eat you in a heartbeat,” I said.
He leaned against the bar. His sports jacket was open, and I couldn’t help but admire how his pants sat low on his hips. Before he could give a rebuttal, Tash handed us shots of tequila. We slammed them down without hesitation.
“Tash. Do you have a list of everyone in the club at the moment?” Finnley asked, setting his shot glass down on the bar.
“I do. What’s up?” she asked.
“Can you search a name for me? I thought I saw someone I know, and I want to make sure.”
“No problem, babe. Let me go downstairs and get the info.”
My heart raced as I swallowed. Finnley wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leaned in, and kissed my head. “We’re VIP, babe. No one fucking comes up here unless they are special. We’re safe. Plus, I don’t want you killing anyone tonight.”
I slapped him in the stomach and turned to the bartender to order a drink. A
s long as the alcohol was streaming through my blood, the small shit didn’t matter. Finally.
Tash walked up the stairs with a black book pressed against her chest. It was far from small, and leather bound. She thumbed through the gold-lined pages then handed it over to Finnley. The book hit the bar with a boom, and he slowly began ran his finger down the page, searching. I leaned over and watched as he went through every single page. When he was finished, he started back from the beginning to make sure he hadn’t missed it.
“How accurate is this?” Finnley asked Tash.
“Every single person who walks through that door has their ID scanned. Once they make it through security, they are forced to sign the book before they can get their bracelet and move on. It’s 110% accurate.”
Finnley released a steady breath and shot a smile at me. Then it was like everything happened too fast. Finnley received a phone call on his cell, and the next thing I knew, he was grabbing my arm and pulling me out the door of Jackson Square. A black suburban sped down the road and screeched to a halt at the front door. The people in the never-ending line watched as a man in black rushed out of the van with a semi-automatic weapon, grabbed the two of us, and pushed us inside.
JENNIFER
Nine
Memories of the night I was taken flashed through my mind. I still remembered the roughness of their touch and the stale stench of cigarettes that had filled the car. In that moment, I didn’t know whether I would be saved. I didn’t know who had taken me. I had been like a ship lost at sea. Thankfully, Finnley had rescued me, but here we were, inside a strange vehicle that was speeding down the freeway.
Finnley squeezed my hand and stared at the men in black in front of us, completely unamused. Then one of them spoke, in a thick Texan accent.
“Abbot said you needed saving,” he said.
“Abbot actually didn’t say much, other than to get the fuck out and that someone would be picking us up in two minutes,” Finnley said.
The man chuckled as if Finnley had said something funny, but he hadn’t. I sat completely still and tried to calm my breathing. Finnley wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer to him, trying to calm and protect me all at once. He kissed my forehead and rubbed his hand over the outside of my arm. I closed my eyes and remembered an article I had read about the women snipers in WW2. They could slow their heart rates making their shots more accurate. If they could do that, the least I could do was calm myself.
“You’ll want to buckle yourselves. Never know when the crazies will just pop out of nowhere,” the man said.
Finnley released a breath then licked his lips, and we both buckled. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “It’s going to be okay, babe.” I wanted to believe him.
“So Jesse. She’s a fucking psychotic bitch, isn’t she? We’ve had eyes on her. Lucky you were rescued. It could have been a dangerous situation inside that club had she gotten to you. Oh. My name is Bart. How fucking rude of me. Abbot and I go waaaaaay back,” he said in an arrogant tone.
Any chance I had of calming down diminished because my fears had been confirmed. I turned and looked directly at Finnley.
“We tracked her license plate down, along with the fake ID. She has her own trackers. She’s working closely with the underground rats in Vegas, but I guess she didn’t realize Abbot had her figured out,” Bart said.
I swallowed. So much happened behind the scenes that I didn’t know about. I understood that Finnley wanted to keep me safe, but I needed to know what was going on. I didn’t want to be kept in the dark anymore.
The suburban veered off the freeway and took the exit going way too fast. I tried to locate which part of Houston we were in, but I couldn’t tell. I interlocked my fingers and sat quietly, waiting, memorizing the face of the man before us. His long nose had a little hook at the end. On the edge of his eyes were wrinkles, with one in the middle of his forehead. I guessed he burrowed his eyebrows quite a lot. He had a strong jaw and thin lips. Scruff lined his jaw, and when he looked up at me, I saw nothing but emptiness in his eyes. But I didn’t turn away. Abbot once mentioned that people in his profession didn’t have souls. As I looked into Bart’s cold, dark eyes, I knew exactly what Abbot had been referencing. How many people had this man in front of me killed? Was he a skilled killer, a hired killer? What other horrible things had he done? When he smiled at me, I saw his front teeth somewhat crossed each other. I turned my head.
“Where are we going?” Finnley asked.
“Abbot instructed me to take you to the compound, and not let you leave until he arrived,” Bart said.
“Abbot doesn’t give instructions for me,” Finnley said.
“Well, Felton, tonight he does. He said you’d talk back, that you wouldn’t appreciate it. But he said he didn’t fucking care, that you weren’t to leave.”
“How much is he paying you?” Finnley asked.
“Enough,” Bart said, and I knew the conversation was over. No more words would pass between us, not until Abbot arrived. I could tell the whole situation agitated Finnley, but if it meant our safety, I was happy for Abbot’s persistence. Hell, I welcomed it.
I stared out the window and gasped when recognition hit me. Finnley squeezed my hand, bent down, and whispered in my ear. “What is it?”
“We are at the killing fields,” I said, not whispering.
A smile lit Bart’s face. “The highway of hell.”
Finnley’s eyes widened and a chill swept over me. We were twenty miles outside of Houston in League City. Too many women had been found in that field, and just the thought of it made me ill. What if we weren’t safe? What if this was all a big joke and we were being taken there? Pretty soon, we were taking an exit and traveling down a secluded dirt road. There were no houses or even street lamps, only overgrown pastures. At the end of the road sat a large adobe house, reminiscent to the ones in Mexico.
The SUV pulled close to the front door, and Bart stood guard in front of the parked vehicle with his gun drawn. A group of men stepped out of the shadows and looked out into the distance, waiting, almost as if they expected someone to be following us. We stood quietly, allowing the night air to kiss our skin. Nothing but darkness and overgrown fields surrounded us. I refused to relax until I knew we were safe, which wouldn’t be anytime soon. Since being taken, I had found it hard to trust any situation that I was thrown into. Finnley stood close beside me until Bart opened the front door to the compound.
Inside, there were tall walls and an open floor plan, with tables and bar stools all around a large, low-lit room. Pool tables and a bar were in the far corner. This place looked like a sports bar that should have been in the city, not like a deserted compound that was offering us safety away from the grasp of a psycho Jesse. Behind the bar hung a large black flag with a bone-white devil, flames, and a script underneath that read Southern Devils, Established 1905.
After I had fully taken in the space that surrounded me, I noticed the room was full of men wearing leather vests with the same devil embroidered on the back. Every so often, I saw barely-dressed women hanging from a few of the men. They looked like cheap prostitutes.
I looked over at Finnley, who was also memorizing every detail.
“Where are we?” I asked.
A man with a handlebar mustache walked past us, with a blonde woman under his arm. He burst into hefty laughter, then grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cute blonde girl.
“You’re at the Southern Devils’ compound, baby doll. The oldest motorcycle club in Texas. And if you want, you can join me and my girl for the evening upstairs in my room,” he said, taking a step back, drinking in every curve of my body. Finnley wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to him.
“What, you wanna join in on it too, pretty boy? Not really my type, but I could let you watch.”
The man shrugged at the two of us then stumbled up the stairs.
“I’m kicking Abbot’s fucking arse when he arrives.” Finnley popped his fingers.
Bart walked up to the two of us. We were completely out of place. I noticed that on the breast of his leather cut it said secretary. I looked up at him. “Relax. This is the safest place in Texas. Have some drinks and at least try to enjoy yourselves. You’re in one of the safest places in Texas.”
Finnley ran his fingers through his hair and gave me a look. He was pissed. I could almost see the steam coming off him. We walked across the room, and everyone seemed to stop and stare as if we were lepers. I tried to ignore the eyes that tracked me, and followed him to the bar top. A woman with tattoos up and down her arms stood behind the countertop in cut-off shorts. Her hair was thrown into a sloppy ponytail, and though her body said thirty, her face told me she was much older than that.
“We’ve got hard liquor. Whatcha want?” She wasn’t happy to see us there, and we weren’t happy to be there, so it looked like the two of us had something in common at least.
“We’ve got whiskey, vodka, and rum. Take your pick.” Sarcasm coated her voice as she moved her hand across the bottles as if she were presenting liquid gold.
Finnley looked at her, completely unamused. “Surprise me, then,” he said.
She leaned over the bar, her lips only inches from his. “Good choice, bub. And I’m Rosie.”
This woman had the confidence of an army, and the attitude to back it. She slammed a rocks glass on the wooden bar top, pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf, and poured, and poured, and poured until the shot filled the entire glass. She gave him a smile, then turned around and placed the bottle back. Finnley picked up the whiskey, took it all in one gulp, and slammed the glass back down on the bar. Rosie gave him a side smirk, leaned back over the bar, and stared at him.
“You’re harder than I thought,” she said.
“You have no fucking clue.”
I needed to keep my mind clear. Finnley asked about the restroom, then stood.
“Come with me.”
I looked up at him. “No. I’m fine right here.”
“You’re coming with me. I’m not fucking leaving you here alone.” Finnley grabbed my arm, and I stood and jerked it from him.