“Hello, Joe?”
“It’s nice to hear your voice, Ryker. Thankfully, your brother never changes his damn phone number, unlike you, Mr. I Love Burner Phones,” he says in his pleasant, middle-class sounding voice. Listening to him, I can understand why he’s a junior high school teacher in his normal life. “How are you doing?”
“If you’ve kept your ear to the ground, Joe, you’d know how I’m doing,” I reply sarcastically. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you,” Joe says. “I just got a call from a representative of Jacob Waters. The man wants to meet me.”
“Oh, really? And I guess this isn’t to discuss the newest round of test scores from the city’s schools,” I reply. “Get to the point, Joe. Sorry to rush you, but I’ve got a list of things to do.”
“No offense taken. He offered me five million dollars to take you out,” Joe says. “With a bonus the faster I get it done.”
“And he knows you work for me, right?” I ask. “At least, the last time you were active in the city, it was for me.”
“Of course he knows,” Joe says. “But he still made the offer. Twice my normal rate for a hit of your . . . value.”
“I’m honored. But if you’re calling me, you didn’t take the contract. That’s not your style. So, what gives?” I ask, chilled by the idea of Joe Strauss after me. He’s the sort of man deadlier than cancer, at least cancer can be beaten sometimes. “You’re not the kind to switch sides, either.”
“I know I’m not, which is something Jacob Waters doesn’t seem to understand,” Joe says. “I remember ideas like honor, Ryker. And I remember when you and your brother helped my daughter out with the problem she was having with those punks. Some things are more important than money, you know.”
I nod, relieved. It wasn’t much, just a bit of trouble that Joe couldn’t get involved with directly, and I was more than willing to do as a favor. Seems my investment’s reaping rewards. “I do know. Thank you, Joe.”
“Don’t mention it. Also, I wanted to pass on a little info. Waters is getting desperate. I don’t know how far you’re willing to push him, but I heard it in his voice—the man’s close to cracking. If I were you, I’d end this soon before the streets run red with innocent blood. Trust me, you don’t want that on your conscience.”
“I plan on it. Thank you, Joe. Good night.”
I hang up the phone, looking over at Marcus. “He’s right, you know. Taking over the city’s one thing, but I’m not the type to massacre the innocent.”
Marcus nods, picking up his phone. “So how do you plan on doing it?”
I think, staring long and hard into the scarred, scratched surface of the table, running my fingers along the scratches and thinking about how familiar it feels. Sure, I might be living in a penthouse now, but the fact is that I’ve spent most of my life in grimy little offices like this. There have been so many nights sitting at a hand-me-down Formica table, so many nights where I wasn’t wearing Gucci slacks but Dickies, my boots not custom tailored but the Vietnam jungle variety. And if I’m going to end this quickly, I need to get back to that man I was.
“I need to get out on the streets, take it old school,” I finally say. “Trade in the comfort for getting a little grit under my fingernails.”
“Why?” Marcus asks. “Why not wait for him to come out? He’s gotta come out eventually. If he sits on his ass he’s going to lose his rep.”
“And if I sit on my ass, I’m going to lose the same thing,” I reply. “I need to get my hands dirty again. You still got my old gear?”
Marcus nods. “The jacket, at least. Why, you want it?”
I think, then shake my head. “No, but I do need some street gear. What’s here?”
“Enough that you’ll find what you’re looking for,” Marcus says. “You sure about this, though?”
I nod, getting up. “Let me get changed. We’ll talk while I do.”
The lights are off when I open the door to Sarah’s room, and I think she’s sleeping at first, so I start to back out when her voice comes out of the darkness. “You’re leaving.”
“I need to. If I don’t, this could stretch on for weeks, even months. Innocent people could die. I signed up for this life, but most of this city didn’t.”
I close the door most of the way and cross over to Sarah’s bed, kneeling next to her. She shifts and turns, rolling over to look at me, and in the darkness, her already dark eyes look nearly black, but still I can see the emotion in them. It’s hard to miss when she’s nearly crying. “It’s what makes you different from him,” she says softly, reaching out and stroking my hair. “The only reason he’d even think of exposing himself would be to save his own neck.”
“I know. And it’s a weakness I’m going to exploit. I need to go stake him out, figure out where he’s holed up,” I reply. “I need to know where your husband is so I can position my troops and end this soon.”
“Don’t call him that,” Sarah whispers fiercely. She takes her hand back, clasping her hands together for a moment before holding out her engagement and wedding ring for me. “I don’t want them anymore. He has never been a husband to me.”
I take them and tuck them into the left hip pocket on the baggy fatigue pants I’m wearing. It’s been a long time, but they still feel right. “I’ll toss them in the river.”
“No,” Sarah says. “I want you to keep them. Because . . . because I don’t want you to go. And I know you have to anyway. You have to bring those back to me so I can throw them in the river myself.”
“You’ll be safe here,” I reassure her. “Unless it’s a perfect opportunity, I won’t make a move.”
Sarah reaches out, cupping my face and kissing me again. “You’d better not. You come back, and I’ll follow that up with every fantasy you’ve ever had of me.”
I chuckle, getting to my feet and leaning over, giving her a little kiss on the nose. “I don’t need the fantasy. The real thing was better than anything I ever fantasized. I’ll see you in two-three days. At most.”
Chapter 12
Sarah
After Ryker leaves, I try to stop my body from trembling, but I can’t. After living in mortal fear for so long, I know it should be the opposite. When I was in that basement ‘apartment’, I was all alone. At night when I shut off the games and tried to sleep, I couldn’t hear anything except my own breathing. It scared me, thinking that I was all alone and that Jacob was coming for me. Now, I can hear people moving around in the ‘safe house,’ and for some reason, it freaks me out. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
It’s the fear that’s getting to me, I know. He’s not coming back, it says. He says he is, and he’s got my rings that he’s supposed to bring back to me once this is all over. But I can’t stop this feeling that by this time tomorrow, Marcus is going to come in, telling me that Ryker’s been shot in the streets and that I’m going to be turned over to Jacob as a last-ditch peace offering.
I’d rather die. So, now’s my chance, and I take it, rolling out of bed just as the door opens. I freeze until I see that it’s Marcus. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay. I was just getting up to use the bathroom, wherever that is,” I reply. “What’s up?”
He holds up a pair of shoes and socks. “These might be better for you than the sandals. The bathroom’s over in the corner by the stairs to your right as you come out of the office.”
“Thank you. And Marcus?” I reply, taking the shoes from him. They’re not much, cheap Velcro-closed, bargain basement running shoes, but I appreciate the thought behind it. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Marcus says, waiting while I slip the shoes on and get up. “This place ain’t much, but we’ll keep you warm, dry and safe at least.”
We cross the warehouse, which is creepily empty. The fluorescents above me buzz slightly, casting a pale glare that leaves me feeling even more desperate, more worried. “Where is e
veryone?”
“Ryker taught us that you don’t defend by huddling up but by doing what’s called ‘active defense,’ or going out and making sure your enemy never even gets close,” Marcus says. “So, I’m the only one inside the building, acting as a sort of headquarters and communications center while the rest of the crew’s out and around the neighborhood.”
We reach the bathroom, which is by a door, and my fear flares out of control. “Okay, I’ll wait here while you—”
He never completes his sentence as I turn and knee him square in the balls. He’s not expecting it, and I catch him hard, knocking him to the ground with the pain. “Sorry, Marcus.”
I run out the door, down the alley, and into the night. Rounding the corner, I try to remember what I saw through the front window of the van that we used to get here, and I think that the freeway is about two miles or so to my left. I take off in that direction, trying to look cool and collected while still hurrying.
My heart pounds in my chest as I make my way along the dimly lit alleys, doing my best to try and stay in a more or less straight line. Fear assaults me in every direction. Everybody I see moving in the streetlights could be a threat. I’m not from here, I wasn’t born in the gritty parts of town. I’ve never learned how to fight for my next meal, or what to look out for. I can’t tell if someone’s looking at me warily, or if they mean me harm. I’m just a suburban girl who long ago thought about being an actress before getting caught up in a nightmare. I don’t get far when someone jumps out and drags me into an alley, a powerful hand clamping over my mouth. “What the fuck are you doing?”
The voice in my ear immediately makes me stop fighting, and he lets me go. I turn to see Ryker, his eyes blazing with anger in the streetlight. “Ryker!”
His hands tighten on my arms, and he looks around before dragging me toward an apartment building, shoving me inside one of the first-floor apartments. There’s a girl there who doesn’t look as surprised as she should be when Ryker brings me in. I don’t know who she is or why I’m feeling it, but I can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy. “Go tell Marcus I found her. Tell him I’ll bring her back in a little bit.”
“I ain’t got a phone, Ryker,” the girl says, throwing up her hands when Ryker gives her a glare that could melt steel. “Fine. I’ll walk over.”
The girl gets up and disappears. Ryker doesn’t say a word until she leaves and then turns to me, his eyes still blazing. “Now . . . what the fuck were you doing?”
“Ryker, I’m sorry . . . please, I heard what you told Marcus. Jacob’s hiring hitmen to try and get you. I had to get away. There’s no way you can fight his money and power. I just . . . I want to live again!” I babble. I’m sure I’m repeating myself, and tears are flowing down my face as Ryker takes me in his arms and kisses me again, a habit for shutting me up that I’m quickly finding I’m not all that opposed to.
“I’m not letting you free just yet,” Ryker says. “Sarah, you don’t know this city. You were just about to cross over from my territory to an area controlled by a group still affiliated with Jacob.”
“Ryker, just call Jacob. Say you killed me or something. He won’t care. He’s still going to want to fight, and I can—”
“No,” Ryker says, his tone cutting me off. “You will have a future, Sarah. When I kill him. Then you can go wherever you want. You’ll be rich, even.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, and Ryker chuckles.
“Who do you think gets his estate when I kill him?” Ryker asks. “You can go anywhere you want. Be anything you want. You’ll be free. Even if the fucker didn’t leave it to you, I’ll make sure it happens.”
I shouldn’t believe him. He’s a criminal too, and other than giving me little bits of freedom and the best fuck of my life, I’ve been just as much his prisoner as I ever was with Jacob. But . . . looking up into his eyes, I want to believe him. “Promise?”
Ryker nods. “Promise. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to take your pain away.”
There’s something in his eyes that says he’s telling me the truth, and when he leans in to kiss me, I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and tasting his honesty in his lips and his tongue.
We pull at each other’s clothes, making our way to the couch where Ryker pulls me on top of him, straddling his waist while his lips make their way down my throat and over my collarbones. I tense at first when his hands trace my scar again, but then the warmth of his touch seeps through the self-consciousness, and I look down into his face, stroking his hair. “When I’m with you, I’m not afraid.”
“And you’ll never have to be,” Ryker says, raising his head. His tongue traces over my skin, the touch making me forget all my worries. I feel his cock swell and stiffen underneath me and I start riding him, rubbing my still panty-covered mound against the thick bulge in his pants. “Mmm… slowly, beautiful.”
“Say it again,” I gasp, pulling his head against my chest as his tongue circles around my right nipple, teasing me and sending fireworks through me. “Please, Ryker, say it again.”
“Beautiful,” he murmurs before he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks, making me gasp and cry out softly. We’re on a ratty old sofa in a flea trap of an apartment, but I don’t care. This is better than any luxury setting as Ryker’s hands and lips weave patterns of pleasure and heat over my body. Grinding against him, my pussy is soaked, and I let myself be swept away in his arms, standing up just long enough to let him slide my pants and panties off. He’s sitting in front of me, and I feel vulnerable but somehow safe as he leans forward and kisses my belly button, making me giggle. “Ticklish?”
“A little,” I tease, running my fingers through his hair. “Why did fate make me waste years with him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ryker says, leaning in again and kissing my waist. “We have now.”
Heated trepidation sweeps through me as Ryker gets off the couch, kneeling on the floor to give himself better access as I naturally spread my legs. His lips travel lower and lower until I can feel his breath on my pussy lips and his hands holding my ass tenderly. His tongue caresses my pussy, and it’s like heaven, sliding through my slick folds, nibbling and lapping at me, tasting me and swallowing me with eager sounds of pleasure. It’s so good that I have to put my hands on his shoulders just to keep myself from falling over. But Ryker’s strong arms give me a sort of saddle to sit in as he devours me, and I relax into them, letting myself get washed away in the sensations.
Ryker’s tongue flickers over my clit and I cry out, tears of ecstasy rolling down my cheeks as untold new pleasure rolls through my body and I grind against his eager lips and tongue, Ryker not stopping until I’m trembling on the edge of coming. With a single lick, he shatters me, my body carried away as my knees unlock and I sink down. He lowers me slowly, and I feel the heat of his cock pressing against the entrance to my pussy.
Ryker twists us so that he can lie back on the carpet while I sink down onto him. There’s none of the pain of being stretched open like last time, just one glorious feeling of being filled, of being joined with someone who wants me as me. “And that . . . fuck, you’re perfect.”
I ride him, his words giving me even more encouragement, sliding my hips back and forth and letting his cock fill me again and again. I want to go slow, but after coming so hard from his tongue, I’m greedy, voracious for more of Ryker, and my hips take over, riding him hard and fast, squeezing him and dangling my breasts over his face. He’s more than happy to feast on me, his lips finding my left nipple and sucking hard, devouring me and sending my brain whirling.
It’s forever and it’s an instant, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of me making time simultaneously stand still and whip past us at hurricane speeds. Still, I’ve never felt better than I do in Ryker’s arms, and another orgasm builds within me, this one bigger but more tender, it seems. “Ryker . . . help me . . .”
He plants his feet, his hips jackhammering upward, driving his
long, thick cock into my pussy as I find his lips again and we kiss, both of us moaning as the feelings wash over us. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my ass as he reaches his climax, and he’s moaning, his cock erupting deep inside me and pushing me over the edge, my own orgasm filling my body with not just pleasure but the warm light of something that I’ve never felt before. When it passes, I stay on top of him. I want to draw out this moment of perfection as long as possible.
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing him again. “For making me a woman again.”
“I swear I will make sure you’re protected,” Ryker says, looking up into my eyes. “I only wish—”
The door to the apartment bursts open, and both of us turn to see Marcus with about four other men and the girl from the apartment. Marcus’s eyes open wide, and he turns quickly, but not before a couple of people in the hallway see us. “Oh, shit! Sorry!”
The door closes, and I can’t help it, the ridiculousness of the whole thing makes me laugh. “Sorry?”
“He’s my brother. What am I going to do?” Ryker asks, looking over at the clock. “Oh, that’s why.”
“Why?” I ask, then look over at the clock. “Fuck, how long were we…?”
“About an hour and a half. He probably got antsy, thought maybe we got in trouble. Come on, let’s get dressed,” Ryker says, pausing to give me a deep look. I slip off him and get dressed as quickly as I can while he pulls his shirt back on and adjusts his pants. When Marcus knocks softly a minute later, we’re decent, and Ryker opens the door, looking at his brother and the girl from the apartment, who’s wearing a bemused and outraged expression on her face. “Sorry to worry you guys.”
“Oh sure, just use my place as a love nest,” the girl says in a saucy accent. “You better not have left any stains!”
“Shut up Tiffany,” Marcus says. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
Dirty Debt Page 9