by Dani René
This is a business transaction between us, even though Ryker has no clue. He thinks I’m the clueless girlfriend, when I’m the one who can kill him in the blink of an eye.
I came to San Antonio with one thing in mind. When Henlow told me the man I’m looking for is here, I left New York the next day. It’s only been six months, and I’ve gotten his schedule down to a T.
Using Ryker to get the information I need is easy because I don’t love him. So I figure, why not enjoy it while I can? Have two hot men wanting to keep me safe. It’s sweet really, if only they knew I’m the one they should be scared of.
Grabbing my body wash, I lather up and feel my muscles relax from the warm water and the scent of sandalwood and lavender. Closing my eyes, I picture him, Ryker, stroking my back and shoulders. His strong hands tease the muscles in my neck, pressing the knots until they’re all gone. His soft lips taste my bare skin, and I can’t help moaning.
Another pair of hands trail down my arms, and I find caramel pools dark with lust piercing me. “You’re needy for me, aren’t you?” The rough tone in his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“She wants us both,” the voice behind me says, but he’s wrong. I don’t want them both. Ryker’s hand grips my throat, and in my mind’s eye, I watch as Braxton bares his teeth. The animal is fighting for what’s his—me.
My hands dip between my thighs, stroking and teasing my slick core as I imagine them both touching me. Strong hands, corded muscles tense and release. Two of them, one of me, shivering under the ministrations of these talented men.
“I know you crave my dick, Tatiana,” the hiss of Brax’s voice taunts me in my fantasy, and my fingers fly over my clit. “Don’t you?” His teeth graze my earlobe, biting down, causing me to cry out. “Come for me, Vixen. Make that tight cunt soak your fingers.” His filthy words send me over the edge, and I shout out his name like a prayer.
I snap my eyes open and find myself alone in the shower, trembling from an intense orgasm. The shower turns cold, and a shiver wracks through me, chasing its way down my spine.
I’m a fucking mess.
The thought hits me as I step out onto the fluffy mat and grab a towel. Wrapping myself in the soft material before glancing at my reflection in the large mirror, I find an unrecognizable woman staring back at me.
You’re the mess. You’re all fucked up. No one can save you.
She taunts me. She tells me what I don’t want to hear. If only I could rid myself of her, but I know I can’t. She’s right. No one can save me. Grabbing for the bottle on the countertop, I flick the lid open and shake my medication into my palm. Swallowing the three pills I’ve had to take from an early age, I inhale slow and deep, exhaling the thoughts that haunt me.
It doesn’t take long for me to calm down and head to the bedroom to get dressed.
It’s never going to end.
Stepping into Innuendo, I feel every pair of eyes follow me. Girls. Guys. Everyone.
“You’re like the siren in here tonight,” Laney whispers beside me.
“I’m not looking for it. I just want a drink.” As soon as I head to the bar, the tall blonde barmaid strolls up to me, popping her pink bubblegum, and immediately, my skin prickles.
Slut.
Shut up.
“Beer, bottle’s fine.”
She nods without greeting, turns to the fridge behind her, and slams a cold bottle onto the counter. I dump the five dollars on the dirty wood and grab my drink.
“Thanks.” I don’t know why I say anything since she can’t hear me. The music vibrates through the walls, into my body, and my chest thuds with the melodic rhythm.
Laney orders her pink girly drink, and I turn to regard the talent. Not one man catches my eye. I know why. None of these men are Braxton. If only I wasn’t here on a job, I’d be able to do something about the attraction to him.
My best friend grins, and when I drag my gaze over to her, my heart catapults out of my chest and into my throat.
“Hello, Vixen.” Pools of caramel melt into me, sending a warm tingle down my spine, hitting low in my back. I recognize the feeling from earlier when I was alone in the shower. When all I wanted was those hands on me. He offers a grin, which sets my nerves alight.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, attempting to sound cool and calm, but I’m not sure I can be around Braxton. Glaring at him, I wait for a response, which he gifts as a grin that shows off his dimples.
A glimmer of mischief dances in his eyes, as if he’s been dying to break me, and the way he’s looking at me with that overconfident, narrowed gaze sends another sizzle of warmth through me.
“I’m always here.” He glances around, but only for a second, as if nobody else is worthy of those beautiful, honeyed orbs but me. “Question is, what are you doing here dressed like that?” The sneer he offers angers me, but the way his stare trails from my fuck-me heels, up my bare legs, to my skimpy top—stopping momentarily on my tits—finally settling on my own gaze, sends a thrill of anticipation over my skin, heating me and turning me molten. I could easily erupt from the mere look.
“I’m here to have some fun.” Lifting my bottle, I press it to my lips and slowly gulp down the alcohol I didn’t realize I needed until Braxton’s heated gaze settled on me. Jesus, this man is going to fuck me up.
You’re going to hurt him. You always do.
“Come on, Vixen, dressed like that? That’s not fun; that’s looking for trouble.”
Laney stares between us, flicking her gaze back and forth.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she mumbles, and before I can respond, she spins on her heel and leaves me with Braxton. Fuck.
“Tell me, Vixen,” he persists. Stalking closer to me, he steps into my personal space. As much as I want to shove him out of it, I bask in his warmth. “Do you like men seeing you dressed like a common slut?” His words are venom laced with jealousy. He’s trying to hurt me, but what he doesn’t know is, I’m shut off from slurs. I’ve heard worse shit growing up. My father was evil, and he loved to throw his weight around. Now, when I hear the word slut, I can’t help but smile, because it does shit to me.
Braxton’s hand grips my hip. It’s the first time he’s actually touched me, and it feels more intimate than any of the times I’ve had Ryker’s hands on me. The searing heat of his fingertips scorches me through the thin material, and I’m sure he’s going to set me ablaze soon.
“I do,” I finally answer him. “Since my boyfriend fucks around, why can’t I?” I bite back.
The shock on his face is evidence that he knew. I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up sharing the women that I know Ryker’s fucking behind my back. But then again, when I look at Braxton, he doesn’t seem to be interested in any of the females in this club.
“What? You were too scared to tell me?” I choke out a laugh and push myself against him, so my breasts flatten against his rock-hard body. “I’m not a fragile little girl, Brax. I can handle bad news,” I hiss in his ear.
His body trembles under my palm, which I smooth on his chest. With my drink in hand, I leave him gaping at me, and stalk toward the toilets to find Laney, but what I find is not the girl I was expecting. Instead, a sight that sets the wheels in motion for my next fix.
“Oh God, yes, yes, deeper,” the blonde bartender moans loudly as she gets slammed against the wall. Her long legs are wrapped around the taut waist of the man sliding into her, driving and plunging so fast and so fucking deep I can feel it.
“Fuck yes, take it, bitch,” the voice growls as he shudders, violently coming inside her.
“Hey, baby, I didn’t know you were here.” My voice is syrupy sweet, so sweet, in fact, that I have a toothache. The blinding rage I feel when I look at the woman my boyfriend was just plowing into is all I need.
The fuel to turn my body into a weapon.
The venom drips into every nerve in my body.
The poison that seeps into my blood pumping through me.
<
br /> It’s then that I see red.
Tia
The Present
It’s quiet in here today. In my mind and in the room. She watches me like she always does with caring scrutiny. I know what’s coming. Since I mentioned Brax the last time I was here, she’s been curious. I don’t want to talk about him, but it’s inevitable.
When I think of him, my heart races, my body aches, and my mind is filled with images of what I’m like when I’m with him.
A normal life.
But I’ll never be normal. I need to accept my fate. Just like my mother did.
“Does Braxton know what you did or didn’t do?” she questions softly. Shaking my head swiftly, I regard her, but before I can respond, she questions, “Care to tell me what actually took place when you saw them?” Her head tips to the side, curiosity marring her pretty features.
“No, he doesn’t know.” I fidget with my skirt. “I . . . It hurt. My body ached all over. It was a strange feeling, like electricity shooting through every part of me. And then the black . . . There was red also, bright, dark, luminous, and then I was lost. It was . . . I mean momentarily. It was only for a few moments, but...” Shuddering, the memory is still fresh in my mind. How Braxton saved me from myself. He was there, playing hero while I was losing my shit. I was broken, my mind was broken. I knew it. I’ve always known it. And Braxton seeing me like that didn’t make a difference.
Fuck, I didn’t care what Ryker thought of me. It was his best friend I wanted to impress. Braxton was the one I didn’t want to find out just how fucked up I truly was. I didn’t want him to know the woman inside was broken.
Shattered.
Just a mental, fucked-up basket case.
Somehow, in six months, Braxton was the one who’d woven himself so deep in my heart and mind that all I could think about was him. It was as if he was in my bones. In the marrow, just a part of me I couldn’t erase.
“Did you hurt her, Tia?” she asks, dragging me from my spiral into the darkness.
Shaking my head, I shut my eyes. Truth is, I don’t know. I can’t remember. Ryker told me I was crazy; perhaps he’s right. Maybe I did do all those things so many times. All those bad things. All the lives that have been taken, maybe it was me. But then again, Braxton was there. He didn’t say bad things to me. He didn’t tell me I’m broken.
That’s what Dad used to tell me.
“Tia, do you always go there when things are tough?” Her eyes bore into me. It pains me. I hate when people look at me, when they really stare at me. It’s as if they can see the darkness swirling inside me.
“Yes, it’s easier.” Dragging my gaze away from her, I allow it to flit over the room. All the things—chairs, books, potted plants, windows, and the fish tank—I take into account every part of the office.
I can feel the curiosity in her posture. As if she’s drenched herself in it like she has her perfume. She furrows her brows before asking, “What makes it easy?”
“I’m not crazy when I’m there. People don’t disregard me or my actions because of who I am. Or what I’ve done. Nobody can hurt me there.” My voice sounds far away. It’s as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. Sometimes this happens, and I feel unstable. I feel out of control. Like I’m floating on a cloud, and nobody can touch me; but then, that’s not good because I’m not here, grounded, and that’s when my mind plays tricks on me. Nobody understands. They don’t get why I’m like this, so I just allow myself to flow into nothing.
“You’re not crazy, Tia. You’ve been through so much. You’ve seen things that have scarred your mind. It’s perfectly natural to break the way you did,” she confirms in a motherly tone. “Your mind has given you a reprieve. It’s the way you’ve found to cope. It’s normal, Tia.”
I glance at her then, really take her in. There’s no smile on her lips. She’s not lying.
Am I normal?
No, you’re not.
“I can’t . . . this . . . I mean . . .” Pushing off the sofa, I grab the coat I was wearing when I walked into her office, needing to get out of here.
“Tia, look at me.” She rises, following me to the door. “You’ll never heal if you walk away every time it hurts.” She’s right, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t look at the dark parts of me. I self-destruct when I do that.
“I’m destructible. Memories, my past, everything makes me fragile. It’s how my mind breaks when I go back there.”
She shakes her head, but I have to look away. The way she’s staring at me makes me feel almost normal. She insists, “No, it makes you strong. You know why?”
I turn to regard her, wondering where she’s going with this, so I shake my head, hoping she’ll offer some form of explanation as to why the darkness takes hold of me so often.
“Because you’re fighting to survive. Because you have survived. Go to him. Go to Braxton and talk to him.”
Nodding, I offer a smile. “Thank you, I need to go.”
“I hope I see you soon, Tia. This will help. You just need to open yourself up to it.”
Braxton
The Past
As soon as her sweet little ass sashayed away from me, it took all my restraint not to go after her. But I’m a man, I followed, and that’s when she was met with the image of her boyfriend nailing someone else at the back of the club.
Things happened so quickly, all I needed was to make sure she was safe. So, I did. I knew she’d lose it when her body went rigid. The moment I pulled her off the blonde bimbo Ryker was fucking, she slumped in my arms.
Her friend pulled her into the ladies’ restroom, leaving me staring at the closed door while Ryker tried to clean up the bloody mess of the barmaid that spread her legs for him. Slipping onto the barstool, I order a beer and take another look around, sweeping the floor area for cameras. The place is packed, but I pick out the security like they’re fucking glow sticks in the dark. Ten in total. Easy pickings.
“I’m leaving.” My best friend’s voice comes from behind me.
I spin on my stool to find Ryker staring at me with rage blooming in his eyes. His face is red, angry, and I wonder why he even feels anything since it’s his doing. This is what he wanted.
“What? We just got here.” Offering him a grin, I know I’m pissing him off even more. Tia needed to release the anger of him cheating, so I don’t blame her for beating up the chick.
He shrugs on his jacket and gives me a smirk. “You can have her.” With that, he pivots and leaves me frowning at his disappearing form. Shaking my head, I lift my bottle and take a long swig of alcohol.
“Is the cheating fucker gone?” The scent of her engulfs me, and I turn to find my little vixen sidling up to me. Her hand trembles as she strokes the lapel of my leather jacket.
“He’s gone. What was that back there? Did you blackout or something?”
She falters at the question, which intrigues me further. “I don’t like stress. It makes my blood pressure drop, and I faint. It’s something I’ve had to deal with since I was a kid. Nothing’s wrong with me.” Something about her defensive attitude has alarm bells going off around me, but I ignore them and down my beer.
“Let’s have a drink,” I offer, signaling the bartender for another beer. She nods, and I lift two fingers. “Seeing him with the barmaid set you off?” I meet her sapphire orbs that look like they hold too many secrets.
“Yeah, I guess I just wanted confirmation he was cheating before I did anything stupid.” Her words drip pain, and I’m more intrigued by this beauty than ever before.
“Anything stupid like beat someone up?” I arch a brow at her, but she ignores me.
When our drinks arrive, she grabs hers and downs almost half the cold beer. “Brax,” she murmurs, her hand tracing circles on the bar. “Why do you hate me? I always thought you wanted to fuck me.”
The innocence in her tone and the filthy words are a contradiction, but when I glance at her again, I notice there’s no purity in her. She’s far f
rom innocent, and I’m already growing hard just thinking about the dirty things I want to do to those plump lips.
“I’ve wanted you since the moment I walked into the bar where you work. But you chose Ryker.” I shrug it off. “I’m always up for a good fuck, Vixen. That is . . . if you are.” Winking, I finish my beer and rise to my feet. I offer her my hand, and when her fingers twine with mine, I tug her along with me. “Where’s your friend?” I question, and we both turn at the same time to find the pretty girl being twirled around between two men.
“She’s busy.”
“Don’t you want—?”
“She’s fine,” Tia bites back and stalks to the door, leaving me to follow in the wake of her beeline for the exit. I don’t know if we will get to fucking because I don’t want to use her, but as they say, a revenge fuck is better than wallowing in pity. Granted, that’s not what they say; that’s what I say.
In the cab, I sit beside her, fighting the urge to touch her. The ride back to her apartment is silent, and the tension between us is palpable — a living, breathing entity. I’m afraid it’s about to strangle us both.
“Here we are.” The taxi driver glances in the rearview mirror, and I hand him a hundred, waving him off when he offers change.
“Thanks,” I mutter pushing open my door.
Tia is out of the car in a flash, and when I exit, I find her at an entrance to an immaculate apartment building, which looks like it’s meant to be out in the middle of New York City, housing CEOs and celebrities.
“You live here?” My brows crease in confusion. For a bartender, she must earn a shitload to live on one of the city’s most expensive blocks.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mr. Carter,” she quips playfully and steps inside. The security guard glances up and smiles, nodding in a friendly greeting, but he doesn’t actually say anything. I realize in that instant I should have looked into the dark-haired vixen. I don’t know anything about her, and for some reason, I feel uneasy about that. My instincts kick in, and when we step into a private elevator, I wonder if this is a good idea. I can certainly take her down if need be, but I’m always careful with the people in my life.