by Kiki Leach
I would’ve given absolutely anything to be anywhere but in front of that garage, anywhere at all, even hell would've sufficed for the time being, I was certain. But I knew that I had no other choice except to stay put if it meant getting the help I needed from one of the Head Motherfuckers in Charge in order to keep the asshole who inadvertently introduced us to each other years ago from coming after me again.
Before even leaving my house that morning, my mind kept telling me that showing up was a terrible mistake that I would regret for years to come, maybe even the rest of my life; while my heart told me to go for it because unlike even the most sensible parts of my brain, it knew that I had absolutely no other alternative if I wanted to survive.
I bent my head over the steering wheel, wrapped my hands tight around the leather and closed my eyes to think.
What the hell am I going to say when I actually see him again? What the hell am I going to do? How the hell am I going to respond the minute he says his first word to me? How the hell is he going to respond to me?
Those questions plagued my mind for what seemed like an eternity until the woman who had first come out to greet me less than half an hour before and introduced herself as Verna May Simmons, came waltzing back over and tapped my windshield with the edge of her index finger. I jumped back in my seat at the noise, glanced over at her and smiled.
"He's all yours, honey!" she hollered through the glass as the skin around her dark green eyes crinkled. I thought about lowering the window for her, but considering the heinous amount of spit that flew out of her mouth and onto the glass while talking, it was probably best to just leave it up. "But do me a favor and try not to bend his ear too much until he's had his rum and coffee, huh? He can be an even bigger asshole to strangers at this time of the day compared to those of us he knows. Good luck!"
Luck? What the hell kind of luck do I need?
Aside from having on a skirt so far up my ass that if I bent over, this man could see France and every other country outlined on a map from a specific angle; and a tank top so tight that it made my natural D cup look like a set of triple F’s, if I had known that I needed luck on top of it all, I would've tossed a homemade potion in my purse to spray all over him or pour in his drink before we even managed to say one word to each other.
Damn. Luck. I sacrificed my regular wardrobe of shorts and loose tee's in the hopes that this man wouldn't throw me off of his property before I even got out of the car to meet with him in person.
Verna waved at me before heading over to her own car, jumping inside and speeding from the parking lot as if her pipes were on fire. It was then that I wondered if we were now completely alone.
I gulped in fearing that it could be possible.
When I turned back to the door leading to the inside of the building, I noticed River leaning on the frame and ripping a cigarette from between his lips. He watched with keen eyes and furrowed brows as the gates closed behind Verna. And as much as I feared how he'd react in learning the reason I was there in the first place, I couldn't deny that beneath that rugged demeanor and all of that leather and impending rage, he was still completely sexy as hell. Like, old-time movie star kind of sexy.
It probably wasn't the best thought to have at the time; I know it wasn't the best thought to have at the time, but between his broad shoulders, thick muscled arms and that possible eight pack hiding beneath that long sleeved white tee, I thought for only a moment that I might have actually died and this was my gift into the afterlife. His eyes were almost like the color of the ocean, a steel blue that seemed to sparkle even through his anger, and he had hands so big and strong looking that I would've bet actual cash money on them crushing two watermelons at once without him even breaking a single sweat.
It was safe to say that this man was big. A hell of a lot bigger than I remembered him to be, and in just about every area imaginable. Every. Area. Imaginable.
I assumed the moment I pulled in that I was doomed before even seeing him, though for an entirely different reason altogether. But it wasn't until he was actually standing in front of me again that I was absolutely, positively sure of it.
I let out a sharp, shaky breath, then sucked it right back in when his eyes directly met mine. They raked over what he could see of me inside the car, and he nodded.
"You lost?" He called out to me in such a strong and deep voice that it forced every inch of my body to light up inside like a firecracker.
I moved a rattling hand over to the button on my door and lowered the window on the passenger side. "No," I replied. "No, I think I'm at the right place." I bent down a little to get a more direct look at him around the glass and as I sucked in the air surrounding my car, it caught in my throat and I nearly choked on it.
Never in my life had I been so nervous in the presence of a man before, my God, let alone so unbelievably enamored. But this wasn’t just any man. He was THE man. One who probably even made women much, much stronger than the likes of me fall to their knees in front of him with just a single crook of one thick, extra-long finger.
River brought up the corner of his mouth into what looked like a smirk and slid one hand inside his pocket. "But you ain’t sure this is where you need to fuckin’ be.”
I laughed in an effort to calm the pile of nerves that continued to build up inside my chest the longer he looked at me, and bobbed my head. "I was pretty sure until you came out here questioning me about it. But now, I'm not so much anymore." I cut the engine on my car the minute I realized it was still running and shoved the door back.
It was now or never. I had come with a purpose and I sure as hell wasn't leaving until I got what I wanted, and needed, from this man.
I reached in the backseat for my purse and dropped my feet to the ground. River withdrew his hand from his pocket and stood straight the second I got out of my car. He averted his eyes to keep from looking me in the face any more than what he had already, or so it seemed to me. This sure as hell didn't help with how nervous I was feeling. In fact, it made me even more insecure, and not just for showing up in the first place but because of what I had chosen to wear, essentially for him.
I leaned over the door and threw a hand up over my eyes to block out the sun as it shone high above our heads. In the shadowy gaze, I got an even better look at him and through the shades of grey hair pouring through areas of black, he seemed almost perfect. My stomach churned as I kept my eyes locked on him and the beats of my heart snaked so erratically throughout my entire body that I was sure if he looked at me again, he could see my flesh pounding.
When he finally turned back to me, his eyes seemed to grow hard, cold. I didn't know what the hell I had done within the last five seconds to make him internally flip his shit or what the hell he had been thinking, but I was determined not to keep the trend going.
I cleared my throat.
"Are you River Hawkins?" I asked him. "Jacob 'River' Hawkins?"
He tilted his head and glowered. "Who the fuck's askin'?"
"Me," I said, attempting to give off an aura of confidence, though I was certain I wasn’t doing the best job I knew I could have, considering the shallow state of mind I was in. "I'm asking."
He grunted while swiping the tip of his tongue back and forth across his teeth.
"So are you Jacob 'River' Hawkins?" I asked again.
He dragged his cigarette back up between his lips and inhaled. "What the fuck can I do you for, darlin'?"
Darlin'. No 'g'.
"I'm here because I need your help with something, something kind of important to me."
"And what's that?"
Suddenly, I froze. Why the hell was I here again? In a panic, my eyes diverted to my car and that's when he dropped his cigarette from his mouth and took a step forward.
"Look, if you're needin' some kinda tune up for that thing, the garage ain’t open for business."
I turned back to him, confused. "What?" He pointed to my car. "Oh. No... No, I'm not here for that," I finally mana
ged to get out. "I mean, my air conditioner has seen better days over the summer, along with my radio, but I know that your garage has been closed for a long time now."
He opened his hands while at the same time appearing perplexed. "Then what the fuck are you doin' here?"
Alright, this is going to be a hell of a lot more difficult than I originally imagined.
I backed away from my door and slammed it shut, giving him a full view of my body. I wasn't one for going out of my way to openly objectify myself, but I knew the kind of women men like him were often prone to appeasing. And I knew that if I wanted to be just as appeased as anyone else, I had to play my part. Even if I wanted to jump off of the nearest cliff right after.
River's eyes immediately went from my face, to my breasts, straight down to my legs and black high-heeled shoes. I couldn't tell what he was thinking as he stared at me, but from the look on his face as his eyes all but ate away at every inch of me, whatever it was couldn't have been as good as I was hoping it would be.
I lifted the strap of my purse up on my shoulder and took a few steps forward. "Do you mind if we move inside?" I asked him. "Maybe talk about this somewhere a little more closed off?"
"What the hell's this about, darlin'?" he asked, finally bringing his eyes back up to my face.
"It's about something that happened here eight years ago. It's about why what happened then has brought me back to you now." I took another look around the Compound and squint. "Are we the only ones here?"
He blew out another wad of smoke and shook his head. "Not exactly. I've got somebody waitin' for me in the back."
"Oh." I knew if that somebody was a woman, it would’ve immediately explained his lack of giving a damn in seeing my breasts on full display like a buffet platter during Sunday dinner. I folded my arms and took another step forward. "Listen, I don't mean to impose on whatever the hell it is that you've got going on here, and who you might have it going on with. And normally, I'd offer to come back until whatever 'business' you had with this person was handled--”
“Then why the fuck dontcha?”
My mouth fell open, stunned at his crude demeanor, but like many unpleasant things in my life, I sucked it up and forced myself to push through it. “Because the fact of the matter is that I need something from you,” I said. “I'm desperate for it. And I really can't afford to lose any more time without it than what I already have."
I didn't realize how all of that sounded until I stopped speaking and I wished like hell that I had managed to say something entirely different. Maybe something that sounded a little more like I actually needed this man's help to save my life, and a little less like I needed his cock to help get me off.
He inhaled his cigarette once more, then blew out the smoke into the air. "What the hell do you need from me?" River dropped his eyes back down to my breasts and ran his tongue back and forth across his bottom lip. "And more importantly, what the fuck makes you think I've actually got what you're lookin' for?"
"I don't think," I told him. "I know."
He eyed me up and down again, and took one long, final drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and pressing his heel against the lit tip. "I don't have alota time--"
"That's okay," I interjected. "Telling you what I need from you shouldn’t take up too much of it."
He glared at me and waited a moment, then moved inside and waved his hand for me to come in after him.
"Thanks."
The moment I walked through the door leading straight to the club, an unfamiliar, yet unbelievably foul smell hit my nose, making me want to gag. It was like a combination of the smell of people who've just come from the gym and have yet to shower, and a group of women who didn't know that the term 'douche' wasn't just used when describing a vulgar human being. I immediately held my breath and pressed a finger against the tip of my nose to hide a cough, hoping like hell that River wouldn't hear or notice. I was sure that if he saw even the slightest insult from me, I would be out on my ass in two seconds flat.
"Drink?" He came up from behind me and rushed over to the bar.
"No, thanks," I told him. "I stopped drinking at 10 in the morning a few years after my daughter was born. I learned the hard way that a boozed up mother isn't really much of a productive one."
His brows flinched. "You've got a kid?"
"Mm-hmm." I tossed my purse on the bar and leaned over the head of a stool. "She just turned eight years old last week."
"Happy belated birthday to her," he replied through a grunt. Given the sharp tone of his voice, I couldn't tell if he was being genuine or if he was just being an asshole, but I smiled with a ‘thank you’ nonetheless. "But can I ask you somethin'?" he said, though he didn't really allow much room for a response. "How the fuck old are you? 'Cause from just gettin' a better look at you outside of that goddamn car, doesn't seem like you'd be too much older than my own daughter."
"How old is she?"
"Just turned sixteen," he said. "She'll be outta the house in about a few months and on her way to Columbia up in New York."
“Sixteen and already on her way to a university? That’s impressive.”
“Surprisin’, you mean.”
“No, I mean impressive.”
He glared at me, then nodded. “Well she’s smart as a motherfuckin’ whip, though she never got that shit from me.”
"No matter who she got it from, it’s good for her to be that smart at such a young age. Too bad I wasn’t,” I mumbled. "And I’m, uh... I'm twenty-five, by the way. And as you can see, I never went to a college of any kind at any age."
"That the reason you're here?"
"No. Then again, maybe if I had actually gotten accepted to the school of my choice back then, I wouldn't have to be."
When I moved around the stool and took a seat, I noticed River's eyes traveling down to my legs, hoping to get even a glimpse of just exactly what was between them. I probably should’ve been insulted by it, but the truth was that I wanted his eyes on me, and my body. And not so much for the initial reason I had intended.
"You said you're not alone," I mentioned, "but I don't hear anyone else."
His eyes traveled back up to my breasts again before reaching my face. "You wouldn't, given that I'm out here with you and not back there puttin' my cock to some damn good use on that crazy as fuck bitch still takin’ up space beneath the sheets in my goddamn bed."
"O... kay."
He continued on and poured himself two shots of tequila as if what he had just said wasn't the most disgusting thing to have ever come out of a man's mouth about a woman. Right then and there I should’ve been absolutely turned off by everything about him, but the truth was that I knew it would take a hell of a lot more than just his words about someone else to finally force me out.
"Now what the fuck can I do you for?" He quickly downed both shots and slammed each glass back down on top of the bar. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then swiped it across his jeans. "You said some shit about eight years ago?"
"Yes." I tucked the loose curls of my jet black hair behind my ear and sighed. "Eight years ago, you found a girl outside of your club. She was..." I shook my head, remembering. "Sort of messed up and in really bad shape. Do you remember anything about that?"
"Shit," he muttered through a soft chuckle. "Unless her pussy's been permanently written on my goddamn cock, I don't remember one bitch who strolls through here from the other week to week, let alone year to fuckin' year. That's what happens when you hit my age, babe, you get enough pussy over the years, it starts blurrin' together and you can't remember one bitch who made you come from the next you hope will--"
"Okay, eight years ago," I interjected with a hard tone, hoping like hell to keep him from going any further, "the girl you found wasn't one who had sex with you, or was even looking to have sex with you, or anyone else here. She was covered in blood and beaten half to death. In fact, she almost died and would have if you didn't save her when you did." I
leaned forward and frowned. "You still don't remember?"
River stood back and stared directly at my face, then he shook his head and lifted his shoulders. "Sorry, darlin'." He poured himself another shot. "What was her name? Maybe that'll ring a bell or two."
"Well, I'm not sure by how much, but it's Mia Sullivan."
"Mia."
And then I exhaled. I actually, legitimately exhaled right in front of this man, though I was thankful to the God above that he didn’t notice. But the way it seemed to roll off of his tongue so effortlessly, the way it sounded coming from between those pink, lush lips, it almost sent me melting right to the floor like a giant Hershey’s bar nicely settled between a set of warm hands.
His warm hands.
God.
He rolled his tongue across his bottom lip again, then tossed back his shot. "Sorry." He placed the shot glass next to my purse and dropped his hands. "But it's not conjurin' up a goddamn thing for me like I was hopin' it would. You sure you're in the right place and seekin' out the right motherfucker?"
"I'm positive. Listen, I figured the name wouldn't be something to ring any bells for you, because if I remember correctly, you never even knew what it was. But maybe this might help to jog that foggy memory of yours."
With the fear building up inside me brick by brick, I pushed myself away from the bar and stood up from the stool. I wasn't all that keen on doing what I knew that I had to in order to get him to understand why I was there, but much like my showing up, I knew that I didn't have much of a choice.
I paced back and forth a few times and wrung the tense feeling from my hands, then planted myself directly in front of the pool table across from the bar so that he could get a better view of the lower half of my body. I exhaled once and without a second thought to stop myself, reached down for the edge of my skirt and lifted it up to my stomach.
River's eyes shot straight down to my thighs. He made a face, seemingly unsure of what the hell was happening or why, until I turned my leg out to showcase a long, shadowy, zigzagging scar gliding along my inner thigh that lead straight up to the corner of my sex.