by Lust, April
“I need to know what’s going on. I’m tired of being kept in the dark about all of this. I’ve obviously been kidnapped for a reason, and I no longer want to hide in the shadows. I want to be a part of what you’re planning.”
“Sweetheart, that’s not a good idea,” Doc says with a patronizing tone.
I groaned. “Doc, stay out of this,” I said loudly.
“Calm the fuck down.” Doc rolls his eyes.
Beast shakes his head. “She’s been helpful,” he says to Doc. “She’s helped my injuries. We should tell her. Things might be safer that way.”
Doc stares at Beast for a long time. I can tell he wants to launch into a tirade of why it isn’t a good idea to clue me in, but Beast’s icy stare keeps him silent. I shiver, suddenly grateful I’m not the one facing Beast’s blue gaze.
“Doc,” Beast says slowly. “Come on.”
Doc rolls his eyes again. He stands up and throws his hands in the air. “What the hell,” he says dismissively. “Might as well tell her.” He mutters something else under his breath that I don’t quite catch, although I think I hear the word ‘girlfriend.’
“So,” Beast says, turning to me and ignoring Doc’s comments. “This is what we’re thinking. We’ve already let his men know we have something,” he pauses, “valuable to him.”
I shift uncomfortably on the couch. I don’t like that he talks about me like I’m an object, a thing.
“And just what makes me so valuable?”
Beast looks over at Doc. The two of them exchange a meaningful look before Beast turns his body towards me once more.
“Hello!” I snap. “I asked you something!”
“Sorry,” Beast says. “We can’t tell you, at least, not yet.”
I glare at him. “You don’t look sorry.”
“Well, look, we’re telling you this even though we shouldn’t,” Beast snaps. “I don’t think it should matter if I’m fucking sorry.”
Blushing hotly, I look down at my hands in my lap. I ball my hands into fists so tightly that I can feel my fingernails slicing at my palms. I lean back in the seat and fold my arms across my chest, curious to listen to their plans. They’re talking about luring Abram out of his depths to attack him or dethrone him. Apparently, he’s an incredibly powerful crime boss that has been killing, kidnapping, and stealing for years. He’s been tried for murder a few times, but the charges had been dropped every time. The police found all the witnesses had suddenly disappeared. He has men he pays off in the police and in the government, so he never gets caught. He even cozied up to one of the judges in the federal court and has been sleeping with her for the past few years.
“Jesus, you guys have some seriously powerful information on Abram.”
“We have to,” Beast says. “If this plan fails, we’ll make sure he goes to jail. He’s killed some of my men—three to be precise—and probably hundreds of other people I’ve never heard of. Just last week they found a body in the river with a snake tattooed on the back. We want revenge.”
“A snake?” I ask. “Your MC is the Renegade Reapers. What the hell does a snake have to do with it?”
Doc bursts out laughing. “This one’s sharp, Beast,” he says sarcastically. “You gonna keep her around?”
“Shut up,” Beast says to Doc. “I used to be in an MC called the Cobras,” he explains to me. “The snake was, obviously, our symbol. I still use it as my personal emblem.” His blue eyes burn deeply into mine as he speaks, and suddenly I feel like the two of us are alone in the room. “I have snake tattoos. You may’ve seen them when you were patching me up.”
The memory of Beast’s unclothed body makes me shiver. “Yeah,” I say, thinking back to the cobra wrapped around Beast’s fist. There had been another snake, a fatter one, tattooed all the way around his muscular chest. But, obviously, I wasn’t going to bring that up. Just thinking about it causes me to blush.
“All right,” Doc says. He leaps to his feet with surprising grace for a short, stocky biker. “I’m out. See you, Beast,” he adds over his shoulder as he walks out of the room, as cocky as a matador.
As soon as I’m alone with Beast again, I remember the kiss. The hot passion I’d felt burning through my body at the touch of his mouth. The way he’d moved his mouth against mine, like he were a dying man in search of water.
“You okay, Natalia?” Beast asks, his voice deep and low. I can feel it echoing in my very core. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine.” I smile tightly. “I think I just need to go to bed.”
“I’ll walk you back to your room.” Beast gets to his feet, cocking his head to the side.
We walk silently towards my room, our arms resting cautiously at our sides. I swear if my hand gets any closer to his I’ll never let go. When at last we reach the room, my room, Beast turns to look at me. He’s not going to kiss me; he’s definitely not going to kiss me again. What kind of a man rides a motorcycle, carries a knife, gets shot, and kisses girls goodnight?
To my surprise, he kisses me sweetly on the cheek. His lips are soft against my skin, and the kiss only lasts a few seconds before it’s over. I find I want to pull him closer, but I know it’s best we part here, lest we touch again and I make love to a stranger while in his captivity.
I close the door behind me and lean against the hard wood. I close my eyes and imagine what we would be doing if he kissed me on the lips. I would have dragged him into the room, thrown him on the bed, and torn off his clothes. My body gets hot as I start panting thinking about touching all over his body. My hands roam as I fantasize about where he’d be touching me and kissing me. Just as I’m about to slip my hand down my pants, I freeze. I can’t lust after this man, who kidnapped me and doesn’t care about me at all.
Frustrated and lonely, I throw the book sitting on my bed across the room and get under the covers. Still, I keep thinking about how Beast’s lips felt against mine.
Chapter 8 Beast
After Natalia goes to bed, the other guys come back out. Doc, Rocks, and Storm are all ripping me about her – asking me if I’ve fucked her yet. I can’t own up to my feelings, but I don’t feel like joking about sex, either. I won’t admit it to anyone, but this is starting to feel like something more than pure animal attraction. Not that I’d have an easy time judging that, though, considering how badly I wanna tear her clothes off each time I see her.
I spend the rest of the night letting my mind wander all over the place. I kissed Natalia. Earlier when she was sewing my body back together, I leaned over and kissed her. What in God’s name has gotten into me? I must be coming down with something. The only thing I can do now that Natalia is asleep is touch myself. Doc and the others are too drunk to drive, and the blizzard has really picked up outside. I can see several feet have already accumulated. And then the sleet begins.
Thick, icy pellets fall out of the sky and crash into my window. They rattle against the roof and windows of the warehouse, making the whole place echo with emptiness. Since Natalia has been here, I’ve been a lot less lonely. We don’t hang out like normal people do, but at least the warehouse isn’t so empty anymore.
Back when I first bought it, I had no clue what to do with all the space. The thing is, I enjoy hiding out in the very center of the building. It’ll also be difficult for the cops to find me, if they ever came looking anyway. I know it’s absurd that I’ve still got Natalia captured, but she’s been a good sport about it. She even came to the meeting earlier, which is huge in my book. I mean, yeah, it was probably just because she was bored. But it’s something, at least.
If I’m going to date again, I want a girl who’s on board with my chaotic lifestyle. I need a woman who’s going to ride with me and die with me. Natalia could possibly be that girl. Plus, I’d let her go back to dancing, so long as she comes home to me. I want to ask, but we’ve got to develop a little bit more before anything like that happens. I don’t know even why I’m thinking this way. I’m not ready to
date again after losing my last girlfriend. Everyone I care about gets hurt. But something about Natalia draws me in. I want more with her.
As if she can read my mind, there’s a small knock at the door. I know it’s her the instant I hear it. I retrieve my hand from my pants and shuffle towards the door. Natalia is standing on the other side, her arms wrapped around her small frame.
“You okay?” I hate myself a little bit for asking that. I’ve never been the caring kind of guy, or the kind of guy who makes romantic gestures. And yeah, in my book, asking if someone is okay damn well counts as romantic.
“I’m fine. Just a little cold.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “This place isn’t exactly built for a woman’s touch, you know? It’s not insulated. You want another blanket?” I gesture behind me towards my bed. “I’ve got one.”
Red tinges the surface of Natalia’s face, making her look both adorable and sexy. “Can I sleep with you?” Her cheeks turn even redder. “Not like that,” she adds quickly. “I just meant…you know…to keep warm.”
Leaning against the doorframe, I raise one eyebrow. “You wanna sleep in here? With me?”
“Why not?”
With a sigh, I step back and gesture for her to come inside. Natalia doesn’t hesitate. She crosses the threshold of my room like she owns the damn place.
I close the door and lift up the blanket for her to get in first. The lamp is right next to my bed, so I flick it off before getting in with her. The curtains are parted, and I can see snow piling up outside.
Natalia is still shivering even though we’re in the same bed.
“Come here,” I whisper, tugging her towards me with my arms.
She doesn’t protest and moves towards me like a moth to a flame. I wrap my arms around her, and she leans her head on my chest. The hardest part is trying to not get hard. She smells like soap and citrus, and her skin is incredibly soft. Without realizing it, my face is resting on her back. No wonders she’s cold. She’s wearing a tank top, and her smooth skin is exposed.
I press my nose into her back, letting her know I’m attracted to her but that I’m not going to do anything about it. I have no idea what she’s doing or thinking right now, whether or not her eyes are open and searching the room or if she’s sound asleep. What feels like hours pass by before she turns her head towards my face, and I involuntarily kiss her. She turns back and grabs my hand wrapping my arm even tighter around her.
When I wake up, I’m alone. Part of me wonders if I dreamt Natalia into my bedroom, but when I run my hands through my hair to comb it, I catch a whiff of her scent. She must have gone back to her room in the morning, probably not wanting to disturb me. I assume she practices in the mornings, as she hasn’t been able to dance in quite some time.
I rise and stretch before heading towards the shower. I’ve almost forgotten about the stitches in my side, and it stings when I turn the water on. Grasping my side in pain, I limp out of the shower and grab clean bandages to wrap around my side.
Natalia sure did a good job sewing me back together. But she didn’t do a good enough job convincing me things are going to work out. I’ve been thinking since the encounter with Abram’s men that things aren’t going as planned. I have no idea if I’m even going to be able to beat him in a fight. His men came prepared with guns. I mean we’ve got a few guns lying around, but I don’t have too many at this point. And that guy with a crowbar? He was a lot stronger than anyone I’ve faced in a while. I fear we’re getting in over our heads, but if I do nothing, these men will take over my turf. I can’t let that happen, but I also can’t risk losing anyone else.
My life has been filled with death and pain. My father had a heart attack in his recliner when I was in high school, and many of my family members have either been shot or have died of natural causes. I can’t recall the last time I even saw one of my family members. I’m not sure where my mother is right now, but I know she left the house she loved so much. After my guy was buried in her yard, she told me she didn’t want anything to do me. She didn’t agree with the choices I’d made in life and was angry I’d gotten her involved. It hurt when she said all that stuff, but I know it’s for the best. I don’t want anyone I love to get hurt by my choices. But now Doc and the guys are my family. They’re closer to me than any of my blood relatives, and I’ve come to rely on them heavily. I don’t want to lose hope. I have to remain confident that we’re going to beat the shit out of Abram to the point where he never risks coming near us again. Either that or I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. We’ll just have to see what kind of mood I’m in when the time comes.
# # #
Sometimes I think I’m incapable of being able to love because of the way I grew up. It’s impossible for me to even understand the concept, even though I had told my ex I loved her. When I heard she’d been killed, I completely lost my mind. But was it love? This is a question I ask myself daily, especially now that Natalia is in my home. I’ve always enjoyed the hilarious concept of love at first sight or falling for someone after having only known them for a few days.
I can’t get too involved with Natalia, and I know this. Becoming too close would be dangerous. Abram – or one of his men – could kill her. Or, worse, she might see me for who I really am and turn away from me. How am I going to explain to her that a little over a year ago, I was selling cocaine to teenagers? Or robbing families on the lower West Side?
To pick a lock is the work of an amateur. To trick a New York City alarm system is the work of a genius. In my day, I broke into dozens of homes, working the electrical system so it seemed like a power outage. This way when the slumbering denizens wake in the middle of the night, they fumble about in the dark for a few minutes before realizing I’ve made off with their most prized possessions.
There are rumors about a motorcyclist on a black bike who wears a red helmet ravaging the streets in the middle of the night. Rumor has it he beats up the bad guys while also stealing their mother’s diamond jewelry. I loved those rumors. They made me feel powerful, like a God.
I don’t consider myself a good person—not in the slightest. But I’ve had my fair share of fights and many of these include beating up men harassing women, or frat boys whose pockets are filled with roofies. It has nothing to do with good and bad, right verses wrong. I just can’t stand men who aren’t honest. It’s exactly why I told Natalia right away the reason for her kidnapping. She’s tough, with an outer skin thicker than a turtle shell. I can tell she’s been hurt before, and she doesn’t trust me in the slightest. Her little ruse the other night was a lie. Of course she doesn’t trust me, and I probably wouldn’t respect her if she did trust me. However, I can tell she’s curious about me. And I hate to admit it, but I’m curious about her, too.
My cuts are healing and my chest is covered in lilac bruises. It looks like someone stretched my skin out, made me into a puppet, tossed me on the ground, and yanked out my stuffing. Each time I get in the shower I’m reminded of the pain Abram’s men caused me. I’ve got to work out, strengthen my muscles, and eat healthy, so I can turn myself into a machine to kill Abram. I can’t do any of that right now because of the state I’m in.
In the shower, hot water cascades down my body. I feel my stitches pulling and tugging. When I look down at them, I see my skin is healing. I’ll have to ask Natalia if she knows how to take them out without hurting me further.
I squeeze a handful of shampoo into my hand, letting the strong scent overpower me. It’s a mixture of vanilla and something stronger, something darker. The soap feels good on my chest, and I start to touch myself, thinking about Natalia. I imagine her and I running around the upper floors of the warehouse, their darkened rooms filling with light from every footstep we take. We’ll explore the uppermost nooks and crannies, windows wide open and spilling snow on the floor. I’ll take her in my arms, and we’ll make snow angels with our bodies, screwing half-naked in the moonlight. I’ve become a heartless romantic, and when I say heartle
ss I mean heartless. I’ve already cut the organ out of my chest long ago. It helps me to not cry when my men fall around my feet like flies. I’m the new Christ, a crown of thorns wrapped around my waist, squeezing my lungs and ribs too tightly.
When will this heal? The pain, it’s unbearable. I double over, squeezing my side, and throw up into the shower.
A knock on the bathroom door jolts me back to reality.
“Beast? Are you in there? Are you okay?” Of course, it’s Natalia. I’m weak, too weak to stand. Seconds later she’s turning the knob of the door and walking in. “You haven’t eaten in a while,” she says, not looking at me. “I came to tell you Doc and the guys brought you a sandwich or something. He’s been day drinking, so I can’t quite understand what he’s saying,” she says with a giggle.
“Get out,” I growl, not wanting her to see me like this. “It’s not your place to take care of me.”
“Beast,” she says, this time louder, angrier. “You’ve dismantled my entire life, and I’ve been here for weeks without complaining. You can’t just treat me like I’m just another one of your conquests.”