by Paige Weaver
I grabbed Sam’s hips, holding her still so I could bury myself as deep as possible. I wanted everything from her - her body, her heart, her soul. I wanted to spend every moment with her, drink in the sight of her. Live for her. Breathe for her.
Everything for her.
Ecstasy started to build in me like I’ve never felt before. Sleeping with other women didn’t compare. I was losing myself to Sam.
“God, Sam,” I whispered, moving faster. I pushed myself onto my hands on either side of her, needing more leverage and taking my weight off of her. Gazing down, I watched her move beneath me on her stomach, her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust. It was so sensual that I almost came apart right then.
“Talk to me,” I said, running one hand down her spine. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”
“Tell me that you love me,” Sam said around a gasp. “I need to hear it. It’s the only way we can be free.”
“Free of what?” I asked, bending down to kiss her shoulder blade, my cock pumping into her.
“That,” she answered, looking behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder, more interested in what was beneath me then what was behind me. But that’s when I saw it.
A monster stood at the foot of the bed, watching us. It was heinous, grotesque. It opened up its mouth and growled, spittle dripping from its mouth.
“Shit!” I cried, pulling out of Sam and scrambling off of her.
She looked over her shoulder at me with quiet calmness. “It’s just you, Walker. It’s nothing.”
I eyed the monster, seeing its demon-like quality. It looked nothing like me. I didn’t have that look in its eye – the one that said it didn’t care for living anymore. And I didn’t have that scent – the one that smelled like trash. Like the lowest form of humankind.
“What the fuck does it want?” I asked, sweat beginning to form on my brow.
Sam looked up at me with innocence. Her red lips turned up in a smile, her lip ring cutting into her lip. “It wants to destroy me, Walker.”
~
I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. Darkness surrounded me. The sweat on my brow had cooled, thanks to an overzealous A/C unit, but the nightmare still replayed in my head.
“Shit!” I hissed, running a hand over my eyes when I remembered Sam’s face and the monster wanting to destroy her.
“Fuck!” I swore louder, jumping to my feet. Yeah, I knew I was a monster. I had been told that my whole life. I was a sonofabitch without a heart or soul. I’d broken laws and been to jail. I had drank my share of alcohol and more. I was as ugly inside as that monster in my dream had been on the outside.
But that monster didn’t own me. I fought him every day. Every hour. I was freaking trying to fix my damn life. I didn’t steal cars anymore. I hadn’t broken a law in ages. I drank, sure, but that’s it. I was enrolled in college, taking night classes to get my basic courses out of the way. I worked forty hours a week, shoving dirt or swinging a hammer. It didn’t matter if it was a hundred degrees outside or twenty; I was there, working my ass off to earn money and get the hell out of Dodge.
I was trying, dammit. But the demon inside me was still winning.
I crossed my bedroom on bare feet, wearing only boxer shorts and the sweat that glistened my body. I needed a drink. Something wet with the ability to quench my thirst. And I wasn’t talking about water.
I swung open my bedroom door and headed for the kitchen. I didn’t have to go far for a drink. Bent and I lived in a tiny apartment. There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a living room/dining room/kitchen combo area. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a bar, covered now with papers, empty pizza boxes, and week-old empty beer bottles. The place was dirt cheap and smelled like old gym socks but it was clean and in a decent location.
I had suggested to Bent that Sam move in with us, just to get her out of her hellhole of a house but Sam had flat-out said no. Something about sticking close to her mama. I didn’t like it or buy it but what did I know. My dad wasn’t anywhere on the list of people I was concerned about.
If I were truthful with myself (which half the time I wasn’t) I would come clean and admit that I wanted Sam in our apartment because I wanted to be near her. I wanted to see her night and day. Why, I don’t know. We would probably kill each other within a few hours. But I still wanted her here, if only to reassure myself that there was nothing between us but hate.
I opened up a cabinet and grabbed a clean glass then reached for the bourbon sitting nearby. I splashed an ounce in the cup, making a note to buy more soon.
The sight of the brown liquid called to me. Resting my hands on the counter, I stared down at it, all the reasons why it was so wrong to want it running through my mind.
But damn, it tasted good.
My mouth watered and my hands shook. I raised the glass to my mouth and took a large gulp. Pure bliss ran through me. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of it moving down my throat.
In seconds, I calmed down. My hands stopped shaking and the fear and frustration from my dream eased. All I needed was another drink and I’d be fine. I raised the glass again, my body cooling down.
But Sam stayed in my mind. I shook my head with disgust and tossed the drink back. I didn’t need her anyway. She was just a means to an end. My end, that is. I wanted to have her once, even if it killed me. That was it. I had to know what she was like in bed and all it took was one time.
I poured another drink and slammed it back. With the bourbon, my cockiness returned, just like an old friend that had been gone for years.
Sam was nothing to me. Just a little mosquito buzzing around that I swatted at a few times. That’s it. So what if she was beautiful and full of life. So what if I might love her in some kind of twisted love/hate kind of way. I didn’t need love.
And I didn’t need her.
Chapter Seventeen
-Walker-
For the past week, I had used every means possible to forget about Sam. I went a little overboard doing it too. I drank, worked, and fucked and not necessarily in that order. Tonight I planned on trying to forget her with the help of some beautiful women and one kickass club.
The music was loud. So fucking loud that I couldn’t hear myself think. Strobes of red and blue swirled over me, highlighting the masses of people packed into the bar. Smoke filled the air, making my nose dry and my eyes water. Up on stage, some guy worked over a sound system, mixing music with a touch of his hand and a flick of his wrist. Keeping the people moving and happy with some electronic shit that had me gritting my teeth.
“This is so cool!” Mia yelled, hanging onto my arm like I might run away from her.
That would never happen. The girl was a firecracker in the sack. She had an insatiable thirst for sex that I damn well tried to quench. Yeah, she was a little too clingy for my taste but hey, who was complaining? Not me, that’s for damn sure. She was just another escape, another item on my forget-Sam list, but so far nothing was working. I still couldn’t erase Sam from my mind.
I grabbed Mia’s hand and led her through the crowd, ignoring the tattoos and black clothing of most of the inhabitants. The place was full of everything under the sun – from alternative music fanatics to mainstream loving, got-too-much-of-Daddy’s-money girls and boys. They were all here, itching for some action, hoping for a little attention.
Living a lie.
These people had no clue what was happening a few neighborhoods away. Kids were going without the basic essentials. Parents were struggling to keep food on the table and the lights on. People were getting killed because they were on someone else’s turf. Things weren’t so shiny and simple where I came from. But here under the lights, surrounded by music and alcohol, those things could be forgotten. At least for a little while.
Mia’s fingers slipped down to thread through mine. I tightened my fingers around hers and headed for the bar – my favorite place. My home sweet home.
Blue lights wer
e hidden beneath the bar, making the glasses and bottles glow. It was packed shoulder to shoulder. Women in short skirts shared space with men dressed to impress. The men and women behind the bar hurried back and forth, filling drink orders and taking money. Keeping the people happy and the tips coming.
I pushed my way between an older man dressed in a wrinkled gray suit and a young girl with fiery red hair. Mia stayed behind me until the crowd cleared some then she cozied up to my side, swaying her sweet ass to the music. I studied her for a second, appreciating the view. She wasn’t Sam. Far from it. Sam had the innocence around her that I was just dying to destroy. Mia left innocence behind a long time ago.
Sam was tiny, barely coming to the middle of my chest. Her body was amazing, molded from what had to be the perfect cast. Her black hair was sexy but it had been knockout, drag-out gorgeous when it was blonde too.
Mia was tall, brunette, and a model when she wasn’t attending college. She was high class, driving around in a Beamer her daddy had bought her. She had this thing for cars … the faster and more expensive the better. That’s how I met her, at an illegal street race. When she found out I used to race, she jumped my bones in seconds, not caring that it was done in a public restroom.
I wondered sometimes what she would think of me if she knew I had a record. If she knew where I came from and what my future looked like. Hell, I hated to think about it so why would I tell a girl I was only fucking?
Besides, I never talked about any of it. Not my time in juvie. Not all the shit I had stolen in the name of surviving. Not the beatings I had received or the knowledge that I was a stain on society. I never uttered the words to anyone. The only people that truly knew my past were Bent, Sam, and my dad. Of those three, two of them hated me. I was on a losing streak. The odds weren’t in my favor but they were about to get better.
I leaned against the bar and surveyed the bartenders. There was one – a blonde – working her way toward me. I focused on her. She smiled at a customer a few feet away, handing him a long neck. Her tight jeans were covered with fake diamonds and her t-shirt had the club’s name across the front. A deep V had been ripped in the collar, showing off her tits for everyone to see. She must have felt me staring at her because she glanced my way, her smile widening. I watched her walk toward me, her breasts bouncing the entire time.
“What can I get for you, babe?” she asked, turning her lips up in a sweet smile.
“Bentley working?” I asked over the screaming music, keeping my face neutral and void of any expression. It was my thing. Show no concern. No worry. No fear. It was the only way I knew to protect myself.
And others from me.
“Bentley’s over there,” the waitress said, pointing to the bar on the opposite side of the room.
I turned and glanced across the crowd to see a matching bar on the other side of the club. It was just as crowded, with people crammed shoulder to shoulder along the edge. I could see the rushing of the bartenders, trying to fill drink orders.
I spotted Bent setting a fruity drink in front of a leggy brunette. His perfect smile was too sweet, too innocent. It was a bunch of bull crap but Bentley pulled it off perfectly. He came across as the boy-next-door, a good girl’s dream guy. But I knew that he was far from it. The man was a mess. I had seen him play a girl so hard that she didn’t know what was up or down. When he left her, she didn’t even know to be upset, she was so drugged with the power that was Bentley.
I liked to think I had taught him all he knew. Except he sweet-talked a girl. I just took what I wanted.
“Let’s go,” I told Mia as I passed her, not bothering to grab her hand when I walked by.
She stopped bouncing to the music and followed me as I pushed my way through the crowd. I was halfway to the bar when the guy on stage mixed it up, adding some deep bass to the music, making the club pulse like a heartbeat out of control.
“I love this song! I’m going to stay and dance, Cole!” Mia yelled behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder as she started dancing, her moves more sexual than should be legal. She turned and started rubbing up against some girl with long blonde hair. The guy behind the girl backed off, enjoying the show as much as I was.
The crowd closed in around us. I ignored the people on either side of me, watching Mia and her new friend. The girl grabbed Mia by the hip and pulled her closer, her hand roaming down to Mia’s bottom. Her eyes found mine, sending me an invitation to join them. They both looked at me with blatant desire, waiting for me and enjoying each other while they did it.
An image of two girls, a rumbled bed, and me between them teased me. I knew all I had to do was say the word and the image would become a reality. But something prevented me from following through.
The thought of Sam.
I nodded at Mia and walked away, heading for the bar. I needed a drink and I knew just who to see about that problem.
I edged up to the bar, ignoring the redhead next to me and the dark look her boyfriend gave me. Three bartenders were behind the bar, rushing around like chickens with their heads cut off. Bent was one of them. I watched as he danced around a female bartender, rubbing up against her just enough to make her giggle. He sat two martinis in front of a couple of girls and took their cash, smiling at them with a panty-dropping grin.
One of them, a particularly beautiful blonde, stood up on the bar’s lower brass rung and leaned across the wooden bar toward Bent. He grinned and leaned closer, ignoring the wet spots on the counter and the shot glasses near him. The girl tucked some cash beneath the collar of his shirt, making his grin widen.
I shook my head in disbelief and watched as Bent winked at the girl and pulled the money out of his shirt, not bothering to look at it as he tucked it into his pocket.
He still had that wide, golden boy smile on his face, when he spotted me leaning against the bar. Taking his time, checking on customers along the way, he ambled over my direction.
“Walker,” he said, flipping a shot glass down in front of me and filling it with a shot of tequila straight. No fuss. No fancy stuff. Not even the salt or lime to cover the kick. It was our drink, the one that took away the pain when we needed it.
I picked up the glass and tipped it at him in a silent toast. He watched as I tossed it back, wincing only a second as the alcohol burned on its way down my throat.
“You’re gonna want another,” Bent said, filling the glass again then sitting the bottle down by me.
I tossed back the drink and waited, knowing bad news was coming. I had known Bent too long not to recognize the look on his face.
“Tell me,” I said.
He put both hands on the bar and leaned forward, his voice dropping. “I got a job coming up. It’ll make some serious cash and it involves a really fast car. You in?”
I slammed the shot glass on the wooden bar a little too hard. “What the fuck are you doing, Bent?” I asked, glaring at him. “You know I don’t do that shit anymore.”
He shrugged and grinned, making me worry more. “I thought you might be interested. Been awhile since you got behind the wheel of a lifted car. And this one is fast.”
I felt an inkling of interest but squished it down. “No. Not going to do it,” I said. “And I damn sure wish you wouldn’t either.”
The smile slid from Bentley’s face. With nervousness he glanced around the bar, his fingers tapping out the music against the wood. “I got to, Walker. I owe them double what I did before.”
“Shit, Bent,” I said with worry. “What did you do?”
Bent rubbed a hand over his face. I saw the shaking in his hands and the way he kept glancing around nervously. One minute he was a ladies’ man and the next he was just a little kid that had stolen from the cookie jar. Only this cookie jar had knives and a bad attitude.
“I made a wrong decision so now I owe them double. I either do this job or … well, they threatened me and anyone associated with me.”
“Fuck!” I hissed. I had warned Bent not
to fool around with these people. They were underhanded and out for blood most of the time. He was no longer playing in the minor leagues; this was the real deal – mafia shit and stuff.
Suddenly a thought occurred to me. “What about Sam? Where is she?” I asked, worry making my voice thick.
Bent nodded toward the stage, unfazed by my sudden concern. “I managed to convince the boss to let Lukas and his band play tonight. They’re up next. Sam’s over there somewhere with him.”
I glanced the direction he indicated. My eyes scanned the area for a girl with long black hair and a to-die-for body. Someone that could make my blood boil with hate and my cock hard with desire.
I saw Lukas first. He was setting up the drums on stage, talking to some guy. He turned and glanced down, a smile crossing his face as he listened to something someone said.
I followed his gaze and that’s when I saw her. Sam. She was standing at the bottom of the stage, gazing up at Lukas. Her black hair was falling down her back in gentle waves. The pale pink dress she wore looked out of place among the sea of black. It was like seeing a flower in the middle of a field of dead trees and weeds. The thought just made me mad.
“If you’re not going to join me, watch her for me, will you?” Bent asked, grabbing my attention away from Sam. “I’ve got some guys on her tail but I don’t trust them.”
I swung back around, facing him. I didn’t know what made me angrier – the fact that Bentley had put Sam in danger or the fact that he had a bunch of thugs watching her. Rage made my lips snarl.
“Hell, no!” I snapped, fighting the desire that continued to pulsate inside me. “I’m pissed that you put your only sister in danger but I’m not watching her!”
“Got to, buddy. You owe me,” Bent said firmly.
I scoffed and took another swig of tequila. It pushed away the need I had for Sam and brought the hate back to the surface, itching to get out and take someone to hell.