He shrugged. “I’ll say I cut myself shaving.” I hesitated, and he sighed, “Do you want me to find a darker towel?”
“Yes, please,” I muttered thankfully.
The room fell silent when he slipped on his jeans and headed out. It only took him a minute to find another one. When he returned with a red towel in hand, I stood, walked over to him and held my hand out for it. He glowered at my hand and pulled the towel back, out of reach. “You want it; you need to pay for it.”
My eyes narrowed. “With what?”
His eyes grew hooded. “Come here.”
Taking a single step closer, I squeaked when his arms wrapped around me and he lifted me off the ground, holding me close to his bare chest. He took my lips in a demanding kiss. A kiss that felt wonderful and left me feeling wanted.
When he let me go, he looked down at me and pushed a stray hair behind my ear. “Debt paid.” He handed me the towel, and taking the water bottle to a deserted corner of his room, I washed myself in silence with my back to Marco, glad for the fact I couldn’t see my own blood on the soft fabric I cleaned myself with.
Before long, I was done, and as soon as I came within a foot of the bed, I was pulled back onto it and into Marco’s welcoming arms.
Lying next to him made me feel small, and the way his body towered over mine left me feeling safe and protected. His gentle nature was a definite surprise, as was his need to touch me. I expected something different, but I was happy with what I got. Extremely happy.
Lifting my hand high, he played with my fingers and avoided my gaze. “Don’t go.”
He was so sweet and attentive, and I really, really wanted to stay. But away I went.
He kissed me hard by his door, and then pressed kisses to my hands, the hands he held in his. He tried hard to convince me to let him walk me to the church building. I assured him I was a big girl and had walked the lot this early thousands of times. Reluctantly, he let me go, and I walked the entire way to my room with a huge smile on my face.
As far as first times go, that was pretty good. I was delightfully sore—just enough to remind me of why, but not enough to make me want to never do it again. The perfect amount.
As I walk into my room, I glance up sleepily at the clock in my room. The time reads 4:25 a.m.
My lip curls. No time for sleep this morning. If I try to sleep now, chances are I’ll sleep the day away. I’m already pulling away from my chores enough; I don’t want to disappoint Father Robert, so I shower as quickly as I can, secretly smiling to myself when I gently wash the soreness between my legs, dress in my conservative uniform and veil and head down to the kitchen.
Still dark outside, I switch on the lights above the workbench and start taking out ingredients for the bread. I’ve not needed a recipe for bread since I was ten years old. This is second nature for me.
I knead the bread then allow it to rise. I tap my finger on the edge of the counter and purse my lips.
What now?
I catch myself a second before my head hits the counter.
Damn it.
My eyes feel heavy as slumber silently attacks me. I need to do something quick, or I’m going to fall asleep standing. Shaking my head vigorously, I force a cough and open my eyes as wide as I can, then yawn and stumble down to the hall closet. Mopping seems the best thing to do right now. It’s something I have to use my entire body for.
I nod, blink and fall asleep twice while waiting for the mop bucket to fill.
Then fall asleep using the mop as a crutch in the middle of the unwashed kitchen floor.
Then again while waiting for the bread to bake.
When the oven timer dings, I jump awake into a low, defensive crouch, arms out, ready to attack.
The bread is out cooling, and while the oven is still on, I decide to make breakfast muffins. I get to work mixing the batter, stretching and yawning all the while. I pour the mixture unevenly into a muffin tray and all but throw it in the oven.
Must. Stay. Awake.
I quickly mop the other half of the kitchen, wash all the dishes, clear the workbench then sit at the kitchen table to wait for the muffins to bake. When the oven timer wakes me a second time, I jump out of my chair mid-snore, swinging my arms at my would-be assailant. Frustration has me fuming. “Fuck!”
The muffins now out of the oven, I turn it off and resign myself to a day outside doing my favourite thing in the whole world—tending to my garden. And by tending to my garden, I must mean falling asleep on the bench by the large oak, because that’s exactly what I do.
***
“Cat?”
I swat away the hand at my forehead.
“Cat, wake up.” The voice in my head is persistent. Firmer this time, “I swear to God, girl, if you don’t open your eyes and give me some sort of sign you’re okay, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and taking you straight to the hospital.”
What?
Where am I?
Groaning, my hand flies to my pounding head, while my eyes try to open. After a few seconds, I manage to peek through one eye and look straight at an extremely concerned looking Bob. Sitting up on the bench, I stretch and yawn. “I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t realise I fell asleep.”
His brows lower. “Been trying to wake you for some time now. Are you feeling okay?”
My mouth feels like sandpaper. “I’m fine. Sorry I worried you. I woke earlier than I normally do and got my chores done before it was light out. I came out here to do some gardening and must’ve passed out.” He doesn’t look convinced. I suppose a small truth won’t hurt. “I really didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Okay, well, why don’t you go get some sleep? I can get someone else to work tonight.”
My eyes widen at that. “No!” Bob’s brows rise in surprise, but I can’t stop myself from getting defensive. “I know I’m the youngest here, but if I were anyone else, I already would’ve had ten jobs, Bob. Stop treating me differently than everyone else. I should be getting those jobs. They’re my fucking jobs.” My blood boils. I grit my teeth and bare them like a rabid dog. “What the fuck do I have to do to prove to you that I’m ready?”
He sits there watching me through an expressionless gaze. I’m immediately contrite; I lose some steam.
Running a hand down my face, I sigh, “You always said this was what I was here for, that this is why I was brought to you. This is God’s will. So why are you denying me my lot in life?”
Bob dips his chin and looks down to his shoes. His voice is uncharacteristically soft. “I didn’t watch the others grow up. I didn’t chase away the monsters from under their beds when they were seven. Or read to them ‘til they fell asleep. Or cut their meat for them ‘til they were ten. I didn’t raise them as my own, Cat.” He pauses. “Be mad at me all you want, but this is hard for me. I didn’t expect to feel this way when you were ready to go out on your own, and in a way, what happened with James was an excuse for me to hold onto you. So I grabbed it. I grabbed it with both hands. Because I wasn’t ready to let you go.”
My heart squeezes tightly in my chest. I feel my pulse beat through my temples. I don’t know what to say to that.
Bob nods. “You want me to treat you like one of the crew, so you’ll go alone tonight.” He smiles, although his eyes are filled with sadness. “This is your job, girlie. You can do it. I have faith in you.”
His hand grips the back of my neck in a move that is so familiar my eyes close, as emotion clogs my throat. He presses his lips to my forehead. “May the Lord be with you, child.”
My soft voice shakes. “And also with you, Father.”
He leaves me alone at my bench feeling a little victorious...and a fuck of a lot terrified.
Chapter Seventeen
I feel disgusted. What I’m wearing is disgusting. If I had time to throw up right now, I would. My ass is freezing. My teeth chatter. I can’t believe this is my job tonight. I’ve been at this very spot for almost an hour.
Close to midn
ight, I see my target approach on the deserted dirt road.
Go time.
I wrap my arms around myself and force a violent shiver. My teeth clatter together harder than I should allow, but I need to look pitiful. Luckily, being three towns over, no one here would recognise me, even if they got a good look at my face. I start to walk down the road and wait.
The red truck I know is coming slows behind me, and then stops.
“Excuse me, miss? Are you all right?”
My eyes close. I bite the inside of my cheek and I feel my eyes begin to water. “No. I...um—” My lips quiver. “I’m lost.”
Trenton Hyke comes around me to get a look at my face. In his mid-thirties, he’s actually an attractive man. A tall, solid body from physical farm work, his arms are muscular and the tight tee he wears does nothing to hide the fact he’s strong. His brown eyes search me. His dark brown messy hair is worn buzzed. When he looks down at my school uniform, his eyes flash and dilate.
Well, that didn’t take long.
Fucking perv.
Frankie and Ari did a great job making me look like a high-schooler. Pigtails and all. Now it’s up to me to portray utter innocence. After all, I’m here to seduce this motherfucker. I need to get into that truck with him.
Hyke tuts, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all the way out here, huh?”
I bite my lip and twist my tiptoes into the dirt. I dip my chin. “A guy I was with took me out here. When I wouldn’t kiss him, he left me. If I knew he’d leave me, I would’ve done it.” Tears trail down my cheeks as I look up at Hyke. “I don’t know where I am.”
He takes a step closer to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take you home, if you like.”
I blink in what I hope looks like awe. “You’d do that, mister?”
He sighs, “It’ll take me out of my way, for sure, but yes, I’ll take you home.” His thumb caresses my shoulder. “You’re too damn pretty to be out here all alone.” He smiles what he thinks is a friendly smile, but to me, it looks vile. “What’s your name, miss?” He pauses. His voice drops an octave. “How old are you?”
I sniffle. “I’m Rachel. And I’m fifteen.”
Hyke shakes his head. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to get in cars with boys?”
I shrug and whisper, “I don’t have any parents.”
If I blinked, I would’ve missed the way his face lit up for an entire micro-second.
He quickly masks his expression and utters, “C’mon, let’s get you home,” then walks back to his truck.
I all but skip over to his truck.
Let’s do this.
When we’re both in the truck, he asks, “Where are we headed?”
“Greenwood.”
Hyke’s eyes narrow. “Greenwood? How the heck did you end up here? That’s a long way away.”
Reaching up, I fist the seatbelt and whisper apologetically, “I’m sorry. I know it’s far.” I pause, and then ask fearfully, “You’re not going to take me home now, are you?”
Hyke sighs and I know this game just started. “I will take you home, Rachel. I said I would, so I will.”
But?
“But I’m just curious.” Bingo. “Why didn’t you kiss that boy today? Kissing is nothing. It means nothing. Why didn’t you just do it?” He grins. “You might have liked it.”
I am this close to ending this fucker right now.
Instead, I bite my lip and look up at him from under my lashes. “I wanted to; I just didn’t know how.”
Hyke looks heavenward, and I’m sure he’s thinking he’s hit the underage jackpot. I’m glad he feels this way.
Let’s see if he still feels this way in ten minutes.
He lowers his face and looks straight ahead. “I could show you.” He peeks at me from the corner of his eye. “There’s nothing to it. It’s easy.”
I furrow my brow. “I don’t know...”
Hyke lifts his hands in surrender. “One kiss. Then, if you want to stop, we’ll stop.” He crosses his heart with a fingertip. “Cross my heart.”
I look up in thought. “One kiss? Then you’ll take me home?”
Hyke jerks a nod. “If that’s what you want.”
I wring my hands and look down at my lap. “Okay.”
This is the part I dread.
Knowing Marco and Clark are both listening in.
Hyke moves down the bench seat and is by my side before I can take a breath. Looking up at him with wide eyes, I whisper, “I don’t know what to do.”
He runs a hand down my cheek and I lean into it. “I’ll show you.”
I’m appalled at my reaction to this little game. I seem to be getting turned on.
He lowers his face to mine until our lips brush, and then he speaks against them softly, “You just put your lips on mine and kiss me. Follow my lead, baby. We’ll start slow.”
Then we’re kissing. And fuck me, I have to press my legs together. Hard. I’m extremely aroused.
He softly kisses my lips, keeping his hands to himself and only using his lips to start with. Pulling back, he asks, “How was that?”
I blink. “It was good. I liked it.” I flush, knowing I’m actually not lying here.
He grins. “More?”
Nodding, I move to meet him in the middle of the seat. This time, when his lips meet mine, I moan and listen as Hyke cusses, “Fuck. You’re a ripe one.”
His tongue darts out into my open mouth, and without meaning to, I lift my hands to cup his cheeks, pressing my chest to him. His arms wrap around me. I lift my leg to rest on his thigh, doing this purposely so he can get a glimpse of my white cotton panties.
Our kissing goes from gentle to vicious in mere seconds. I have him where I want him, and I know it.
He bites my bottom lip and I begin to rub myself against his thigh. His loud groan fills the cab, and then I’m lifted up and onto his lap, legs spread. Still kissing, he grips my ass and pulls me into him, grinding his crotch into mine.
The moan I let out is very real. My nipples pebble and I’m close to coming.
He pulls his lips away from mine and watches me through hooded eyes. “Have you ever touched yourself before?”
My eyes widen. I don’t answer.
He grinds some more. “Don’t be shy. I want to make you come. Have you ever had an orgasm before, baby?”
I shake my head vigorously and he grins. “Good. I’m glad I’ll be your first.”
His hips start to rotate, and his denim-covered hard bulge brushes over my magic button. My eyes roll back into my head. “Yes.”
With every rotation, he pulls me deeper into him, forcing contact. Forcing a reaction.
He gets one.
My heart races. My breathing heavies and my eyes shoot open as my core clenches.
Then, the finale.
I buck against him, pushing my crotch right up against his. I jerk and pulse through my release, and moan out, “Oh, God.”
When I begin to float down from my high, I don’t even hesitate.
Looking Hyke in the eye, I reach into my navy blue blazer and pull out the weapon I chose just for tonight.
His body jerks when he sees it. His eyes widen in shock. “What the fuck is that?”
“A hunting knife,” I respond robotically, holding the ten inch serrated blade up in front of my face.
Hyke swallows hard. “What is this?”
Still on his lap, I lean back on the dash and make myself comfortable. “You have a bad habit, Trenton.” I watch his shocked face morph into sheer terror. I shake my head and continue on a long exhale, “Why couldn’t you just leave those girls alone? They didn’t want you, and you forced them.” My brows rise. “That’s a big no-no, Mr Hyke.”
“That’s a lie,” he hisses. “Every fucking one of them was begging for my cock, just like you were, you little whore.”
“I am a little whore, aren’t I?”
Hyke’s face makes me want to burst into laughter. I lean
closer to him and lick his cheek. “I do want your cock, Mr Hyke.” Gripping the front of his shirt, I put on a baby-like voice and ask, “Can I have it, mister?”
His deflated erection begins to harden once again as I grind against it. “You want me to fuck you, Trenton?”
Breathing heavily, he whispers, “Fuck, yes.”
I kiss him then. Deeply, as a lover would. “Okay.”
Without warning, I push the blade into the centre of his gut firm and fast until I can push no farther. I curl my lip. “Be careful what you wish for, Trenton Hyke.”
Fuck you, I did, Mr Hyke. I fucked you hard.
He tries to fight me, but it’s a pitiful attempt. He stops soon after, resigning to the fact he is dying. And no one will be able to help him. Eyes wide with shock, tears fall over the sides and onto his cheeks. He mutters over and over, “No,” until he coughs, sputters and blood seeps out of his mouth.
I watch as he weakens, pales and wheezes, and finally, he takes his final breath. The light fades from his eyes and I glare at him. “Stupid motherfucker.”
My breath hitches in exhaustion, and I call out to no one in particular, “Come get me.”
Within minutes, a black Mercedes pulls up beside the red truck. I get in and don’t bother greeting Clark.
I put on my seatbelt, turn up the radio and curl up against my door. I sigh to myself. All I want to do is shower and spend some time with Marco.
Chapter Eighteen
Arriving back at Mirage was different this time. There was no congratulations or fanfare as was done after my first job. In fact, Frankie and Ari were already asleep. Bob waited to make sure I wasn’t hurt, but after he did that, he gripped my neck and kissed my forehead, then went to bed himself.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but coming back to find Marco at his desk glaring at me wasn’t it.
Clark shot me a forced smile. “Goodnight, Cat. I’m glad you’re safe.”
I returned an equally strained smile. “Thanks. Goodnight.”
And now we are alone.
Marco stands so quickly, my breath catches. He strides over to me, jaw set. If looks could kill, I’d be fucked.
“Wash him off you. Then come to me.”