by Dani René
Secrets.
The downfall of who I am, of what I am, of the things I’ve done. Before I can reply, my phone rings. “Hello,” I whisper, and I don’t know why.
“You’re awfully quiet. Did I scare you off when I asked about your secrets?” he quizzes me with a hint of amusement.
“No, I’m at work. I didn’t see your message.”
Lies. They fall so easily from my mouth.
They stain my life, blackening my soul. But it’s the only way I know how to ensure my safety. And the safety of everyone around me.
“Do you realize your voice changes when you tell me something that’s so clearly not true?” His words stop my heart; anxiety hits me hard, knocking my breath from me.
“What?”
“I’m trained to read people, Vixen, and you are an open book to me. Every line, every word you hide behind those blue eyes, behind that beautiful face, and in that chaotic mind.”
My world tips on its axis, and dizziness hits me. He can’t know. He shouldn’t know. “I . . . You’re . . .”
“Vixen, let me in. Please! I’m not going to scare off so easily. I’ve seen wars. I’ve fought battles. And I’m still here. You, my sweet girl, are nothing compared to what I’ve been through.”
Each word warms me. I want to believe him. I want to bask in him and the sweet promises he utters. But I’m not sweet. I’m broken.
“Look, Braxton, you’re being nice—”
“Fuck nice, Tia. I don’t want to be nice. I’m not a nice guy, and if you say it, I’ll drive down there right now, I’ll bend you over that fucking bar counter, and I’ll shove my dick so deep inside you that you’ll feel me in your goddamn throat.”
A loud gasp from my lips has him groaning in response. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yes, I am. I’m going to get inside your mind, Vixen. The same way I’m going to climb into your body. I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll forget your limitations, your barriers you like to keep up. I’ll break them down. I’m not scared. I’ll see you later.” With that, he hangs up, leaving me gaping at the blank screen wondering what the fuck just happened.
Braxton
The Past
As soon as I hang up, I sit back and stare at the screen in front of me. I’ve been searching all day, but nothing has come up on the name I have for her. Tatiana Nunez. Other than some sixty-year-old woman who died recently.
“What are you up to?” Ryk flops onto the seat beside my desk and leans in to read my screen. “You still hooked on that pussy? She’s a fucking head case man. Be careful.” He chuckles, punching me on the shoulder like we’re best friends, but now, I feel so far removed from him.
Yes, I’ve known him since we were children. We grew up in each other’s homes, but something changed in him, and I don’t know him anymore. My best friend is gone, and right now, I don’t think I want him back. The man before me has turned into someone I don’t recognize.
“What happened to you, man?” I voice the question that is playing in my mind and stare at him. I don’t expect an honest answer, but he meets my gaze while pushing off the chair.
“I grew the fuck up, I went to war, and I saw things that changed me, things that can never be unseen. And I’ll never be okay again. Now, unless you’re going to tell me we’re heading out tonight to get some sweet ass, then I suggest you shut the fuck up.”
I rise to meet him at my full height. “I was there, I went through everything you did, and if you haven’t forgotten, I’m still me. Remember the kid you grew up with? That’s me. I didn’t turn into a dick.”
My retort has him flinching, but he once again meets my indignant stare, and with a dark smirk on his lips, he bites back, “Well, you didn’t lose everything when you left. You always had everything, didn’t you, pretty boy?” With a final glare, he pivots and leaves me raging beneath the calm exterior I plaster on my face.
“Carter, can I see you?” Corp’s deep rumble drags me back to the present.
I nod, stalking to his office; I watch him shut the door behind me.
“Sit.” He gestures to the chair I was in only hours ago.
“I’m sorry about that.” My apology comes easily. There’s nothing that I’d let jeopardize this job, especially my ex-best friend.
“Look, I’m not sure what happened with you boys, but if he’s feeling like the world owes him shit, he won’t listen to you. You’re a good man, Carter, but if you keep pushing him, he may jump.” His earnest advice startles me. He’s never been one to give us fatherly advice. Yes, he’s in charge of the team, but this feels different.
“He’s angry about his girlfriend leaving him. He’s been fucking around on her for months, and she finally realized it. Now, he’s blaming her.” He nods in understanding, then shocks me when he sits back, lifting his fingers into a steeple in front of his mouth, reminding me of a pastor once he’s heard a confession.
“And you’re interested in her?” he demands.
“No, of course not.” I shrug. Yes, I’d like to fuck her into next month, but anything more is out of the fucking question. “It’s just that there’s something about her . . . She’s hiding something. She’s got too many secrets, and I want to uncover them. I want to—”
“Save her?” he questions, and I nod easily because I do. “Braxton.” My name sounds foreign when he says it. He’s never called me by my first name before. “I get where you’re coming from, but you can’t save everyone, son. There are times you need to let them save themselves. Perhaps you can be her support, but until she lets you in, you can’t do shit. You can’t force her to tell you what she hides. Maybe those things are what she needs to let go of to move on.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but surely, I can help her through whatever it is,” I implore him, begging him to see my side of this. Needing him to realize that somehow this girl has woven herself into my mind and heart. She’s overtaken so much of my thoughts I feel as if it was me who’s been with her all these months and not Ryker.
“What did you have in mind?” Resignation is all over his face as he leans forward, waiting for me to confess that I’ve already been using our software to trace her background. Sighing, I glance at the bookshelf behind him, unsure of my plan. I didn’t think it through. “Look, Braxton, we can find out what you need, but I want you to do it by the book.”
Snapping my gaze to his, I nod. “I have her name, but somehow, nothing’s come up on my searches.”
“Can you get me a Social Security number? Perhaps her full name? Do you know that the one she’s using is actually hers?”
If she trusts me, then I can find out all I need to do a thorough search.
“I can get the intel, but it will be difficult. She’s already wary of me,” I confess.
“Sounds like you have a little spitfire on your hands. Come to me when you have more, and I’ll see what I can do.”
With that, I push up and head to the door. Before I walk out, I turn to him and offer him a salute. “Thank you, Corp, it means a lot.” Not waiting for a response, I shut the door behind me and head out to my desk.
“You ready?” Grant saunters up to me; his big bulk moves quickly.
I nod. Grabbing my jacket, I rise and shrug it on. With my keys and phone in hand, we head out to the car.
“So, are you ready to take this asshole down?” my partner questions, his expression serious.
“Yeah, the sooner the better. Sounds like he’s got his hands in way too much shit, and he needs to go away. For a very long time.” Slipping into the driver’s seat, I start the engine and pull out of the driveway.
“I’d like to make sure he goes away permanently.” A dark chuckle from my new partner has me nodding in agreement. I’d like to put him away too, six fucking feet underground.
“Yeah,” I murmur in response.
The ride from HQ isn’t long, and when we pull up outside the bustling club, there’s already a queue reaching around the building. Women in
the skimpiest fucking clothes I’ve ever seen stand shivering in the chilly evening air, and I wonder just what is going to happen to them tonight.
A nauseating sensation fills my mind, because I don’t want to know. I’ve already seen too much since working with Retribution, and this sadly is nothing new. “Let’s get in there, man. I don’t want to spend the whole night out here.” Grant’s already out of the car before I have time to clear my mind.
The memory of Tia being here dressed like she was sends a wave of frustration through me. She could have been hurt, or worse, she could be one of the girls we rescue from a fucking cage.
Nearing the door, I notice the bouncer giving us the once-over. Grant gives him a nod, and we’re let in through the double-door entrance. As soon as I step inside, the music hits me like a punch to the gut. The bass booms through the speakers, and we’re fighting our way through swaying bodies.
Everyone looks as if they’ve been drinking for much longer than is necessary, and as my gaze darts around, I wonder if any of the patrons—who all look too young to be in a nightclub—know what really goes on here. Of course they do. Why else would they be here? For the drugs? The girls?
“Hey man, I’m going to check out the top floor. You okay on your own?”
I settle myself on a stool at the bar. “I’m not twelve. I can take care of myself.” As soon as he leaves, I order a beer. The crowd is filled with youngsters, anywhere between eighteen and twenty-five, and suddenly, I feel old.
This used to be my life, before I made something of my future. I wanted to be more than just another one of those kids who woke up ten years down the line and realized that I fucked up.
Sipping my cold beer, I watch the movement around the club, noticing the bouncers and security, until my eyes land on a familiar looking brunette up in the balcony area, talking to an older man. Something about him sets alarm bells ringing in my head.
My hackles rise, and I want to stalk over there and find out what the fuck is going on, but I’ve learned observation is best. Sit back and watch your opponent before you strike so they don’t see you coming, but you know all their moves. Her long hair swishes as she shakes her head in response to whatever the man has said. I can’t see her face, but I’m almost certain I know who it is.
Taking another long swig of my drink, I feel heat on my back, and when I turn, there’s a pretty little blonde smirking at me. “And what can I do for you?” I question with a grin of my own.
“Just checking out the talent,” she murmurs. Her scent, so different from Tia’s, makes my stomach roll. What the fuck is wrong with me? Normally, I’d be balls deep in this little minx, but right now, all I can think about is the brunette who’s talking to our mark, and she’s got a vault I’d like to open . . . Her mind.
My focus is on them. She doesn’t know I’m here. She hasn’t noticed me yet, but I’ll keep my eye on her until I know she’s safe. Until she’s away from that asshole and in my fucking arms.
Tia
The Present
“Do you want to try going under again? Regression?”
I shake my head swiftly while watching the rain dance along the windowpane. It’s as if it’s weeping for me. Tears silently fall, burning my cheeks and eyes at the same time. Everything hurts today. My head, my heart. How do I live like this? I guess I’m used to the throbbing agony. It’s become a part of me now.
“It didn’t work the last time, or the time before that,” I point out calmly, but inside of me there’s a war waging.
I’m on the battlefield.
Knives drawn.
Guns blazing.
Two sides to every fight, one has to be the loser. I just wonder who it will be this time.
I’ve been doing it for so long that I don’t recall a time where I didn’t want to fight.
Myself.
Others.
Anyone who stood in my way.
“Look, I know this is difficult—” she starts, but halts when I turn to regard her angrily.
“You don’t know anything. This”—my index finger prods my temple—“is damaged. Has been for a long time.” I lean back, taking a deep breath and trying to calm the frustration.
“I know. Your father—”
“Do. Not. Talk about him,” I hiss the words, but she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she eyes me warily, waiting. She’s always waiting. “I’m not here to talk about him today. You told me you’d help me. That you’d be able to tell me what happened to my mother.”
“If you don’t want to do regression, we can do hypnosis. It’s the only way I can get into your mind, Tia. Do you want to remember that day? What if it’s something that will hurt you?”
She’s right, but I need to know. Did I kill my mother? All my life, I’ve believed it. Every moment, every day, all my dreams, nightmares. Everything.
“Yes, I need to know.”
She nods, her pencil poised. Waiting, watching. Fuck. Always. Her gaze probes me. As if she’s boring a hole in my mind, waiting for the memories to seep from my skull like blood.
Red.
Crimson.
The lifeforce that we all need, but it’s so easily taken away. Yes, I know how to bleed a man out. I know how to bathe in the liquid and revel in the pungent metallic scent.
“Tia,” she says, startling me from the thoughts running rampant through my deluded mind. I meet her gaze and see the sadness in her eyes.
“I can’t do that today. Can we talk about something else? Do you think I’ll ever have a normal life?” I think I asked her this before. I want a life. With Braxton. I wish we could have kids too. Even if the thought is painful, the idea of him inside me, marking me with his seed and my body accepting it makes me smile. To be pregnant with his babies would be incredible. Sadness taints my grin.
“You can, Tia, but you need to find your anchor. You need to find it and hold on. Do not run into that place inside your mind. Once you stop running, once you don’t need that as an escape, that’s when you’ll be able to have a normal life. You need to face your fears head on.”
Her voice is filled with urgency, sincerity, and fear. She’s scared I’ll always be like this. So am I. And I know Braxton is as well. I don’t blame them. It’s difficult. Can I actually do it? Find an anchor? Yes, Braxton is my anchor. Isn’t he?
Tia
The Past
He’s going to hurt you, and you’re going to make him bleed.
“No, no, no!” My voice is shrill, echoing through my empty apartment. The throb, a dull ache in my head, makes my eyes blur.
Little Tia, little liar. Broken girl. Did you know broken girls are dirty? No man will love them.
“Leave me alone!” Gripping my ponytail, I pull it loose and massage my temples in small circles. I need my medication, the pills that get me through this.
Let him come. I want to play. I want to feel him.
Deep and hard.
Isn’t that what you like, Tia?
Remember how it felt being taken roughly by him?
Almost violently?
How good it was?
Ignoring the mind games, I stalk into the kitchen and grab a beer and the small white bottle. My mind is still on the earlier phone call and Brax’s adamant tone to learn my secrets. Drowning my sorrows as I drop three tablets onto my tongue and swallow the cold alcohol. The stillness hits me like a wave, as it always does when I get home after a shift. Being alone for so long, I’ve become accustomed to the quiet, but tonight I feel unease creep in.
The desire to run is strong, but I know I can’t. I have to finish what I started. Before I make it to my bedroom, my phone buzzes, and as soon as I look at the screen, my heart leaps into my throat. He’s got too much control over me already, and it’s only been one night.
But the peace he gave me makes me want more, crave more. Swiping my finger over the screen, I answer, yearning to hear his voice. “Hello, Carter.” Using his last name, I stifle a giggle when he groans loudly.
“Vixen
.” His voice is low, breathy, and sends a jolt directly to my core. “I’m outside. I suggest you open up.” The words and promise of being around him has me trembling with excitement. Heading to the door, I unlock it and pull it open.
“You’ll need the elevator code.”
“Well . . .?”
I giggle at his insistence. “It’s three five seven two eight, and the door is open.” I head into the kitchen with him still on the line. Pulling out two bottles of beer from the refrigerator, I place them on the countertop. “Are you close?”
“I am.” His voice echoes from the line to the door, and when he steps into the apartment, my breath hitches. Dressed in a dark blue button-up and ripped black jeans that hug his muscular thighs, he has me salivating. “You look lovely,” he murmurs in that deep, seductive growl which ignites heat all over my skin.
A slow perusal starts from my feet. He trails his gaze up my legs, hips. Those caramel eyes blazing when he notices my hard nipples. He inches his stare to my mouth, and when he finally meets my eyes, they’re molten.
“Do I?” I quip, tipping my head to the side. The ache in my skull from my earlier episode dissipates as he nears me. His hands grip my hips, tugging me against him.
“You do, Vixen. Good enough to eat.” His words are a reminder of this morning’s goodbye before he left for work. “Would you like that, baby?” he coos in my ear, running his nose up the side of my neck, inhaling my scent. “Jesus, you smell good. Makes my cock hard.”
“Does it now? Did you only come here to fuck me? Or is there some other reason you’re standing in my kitchen?” My voice is raspy with need as I trail my fingernail down the buttons of his shirt. The material hugs his shoulders, and I wish I were draped over him so closely.