I struggle against her, but she locks her ankles, and I can’t move my legs. How the fu—
“This isn’t my first rodeo.” Laura cups my breast and squeezes. “Monique was quite fond of this position. She’d often beg for it.”
I sneer.
“You have it easy, though. Skull would make me do this to her in front of his dinner guests.” I hear her smile. “She was quite the mess maker.”
I struggle as hard as I can, but she has me at a disadvantage. Gasping, I push against her leg with my free arm, but she swiftly hooks her elbow around mine and tugs my arm back, completely immobilizing me. Chuckling under her breath, Laura slips her free hand between my legs. Oh! My breath hitches, and I try to squeeze my legs shut, but I can’t break free.
She hums, a low sound at first, and it coats me in all kinds of wonderful hues. They flow down my chest and seep across the water like fog on a lake. Yes, I realize how crazy that sounds. Whatever Skull has put in this drug is not good for the brain.
As Laura hums, she circles the tip of her finger against my clit, and the sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“Stop,” I pant, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
Over and over I remind myself that this isn’t me. It’s the drug. I don’t want this. The drug she gave me does.
Of their own accord, my hips move, grinding harder against her fingers.
“I knew you’d like this.”
I give my head a pathetic shake but open my thighs a little wider.
“That’s my girl.”
Laura slides two slender fingers against my opening and plants a kiss on my neck before slipping her fingers inside me. My thighs tremble, and air refuses to settle in my lungs long enough for me to catch my breath. I don’t want to enjoy this. I don’t want to want it so badly, but now, right now, I want Laura to put her face between my legs. I want her to bend me over and—Click.
My eyes shoot open, and Laura removes her hand from between my legs. She presses her lips to my ear. “Uh-oh,” she whispers, cupping my breast. “Look who has come to play.”
“She’s not giving you any trouble, is she?”
“Not at all.” I hear Laura smile. “We were just playing.”
Gritting my teeth until my jaw aches, I try to close my legs, but Laura is, well, she’s just too damn strong.
“Don’t get shy now, Kitty-Cat.” Skull simpers, sauntering closer. “You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”
My heart races in my chest, thundering like the drums in a drumline as he approaches the bath, his black stare greedily devouring the sight in front of him. Without removing his pants, he steps into the bath, and I watch as his fabric absorbs the water. A rush of water spills over the edges and crashes into the catchment. If this were a normal tub, this bathroom would be flooded.
“Are you finished?” Skull asks Laura, kneeling in the bath.
She touches my stomach, and I clench. “Almost.”
Laura slides her hands between my legs, and I whimper. Loudly. Making the muscles in Skull’s sculpted stomach tighten. I don’t want to admit it, the very thought makes my skin crawl, but watching him watch me, watching his muscles clench and relax at my every sound, my every twitch, is only winding me up more.
…and the messed-up part about this whole situation is that I don’t want it to stop. I mean, I want it to stop, but I don’t want it to stop. I’m thinking like a crazy person!
I close my eyes, and Jai’s face, his brooding, angry face, flickers through my mind, and my heart just about cracks in half.
***
I hate being alone in a room with Skull, but being alone in a bath with him is worse. Laura left twenty minutes ago to help Vicky―whoever the hell that is―in the kitchen. I managed to hold off her assault. Somehow, I didn’t cave to her relentless stroking.
I wrap my arms around my knees, hugging them tightly. I keep my stare on the churning bubbles and the streams of water that run endlessly over the edge of the bath and into the infinity catchment.
When I refused to come, he had Laura unchain me and then sent her on her way.
Exhaling, I finally gather the courage to lift my stare to his. He lounges against the bath, his long, inked arms resting along the porcelain edge. One of his legs is bent at the knee, the other is straight, touching my good thigh.
Why is he here? What more does he want?
His face is placid; his black eyes narrow as he studies me. On closer inspection, his black, tattooed lips are parted, and his head dips before he catches it and straightens it again. Fear tightens my spine.
“Are you drunk?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“I don’t drink much.” He angles his head. “But I make good drugs.”
I scowl. “Isn’t there a code you drug dealers live by? Never get high on your own supply?”
Skull chuckles and sits forward. The bath water ripples and rushes forward, spilling quickly over the edges. Releasing my legs, I grip the sides of the tub to prevent myself from toppling over. With quick hands, he snatches my ankles and tugs me forward. I squeal as I rush through the water and end up on his thighs, straddling them like I would a horse.
He smiles. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I don’t move, I don’t struggle, in fear of him doing something irrational. My muscles tremble as terror chases away any arousal the drug had conjured in me. I drag my stare from his face to his neck and follow his tattooed throat down to the ribcage he’s had tattooed on his torso. Inside the ribs is a decaying heart and a beaten pair of lungs. I don’t need to be a psychologist to understand the meaning behind them. He knows he’s dead inside.
Skull glides his hands up my calves and onto my thighs. I tense but otherwise remain silent as he reaches out and grabs the purple sponge that floats by. Singlehandedly, he applies soap and presses the sponge to my breasts. I hold my breath as he circles the sponge over my entire chest. Surprisingly, he’s gentle. Almost…caring.
I lift my stare, and our eyes lock. It sends my stomach rolling. There’s a glistening in his eyes that I’ve never seen before, that I never thought a person like Skull could ever exhibit. He lowers the sponge and lets it go. Soap dispels as the sponge takes on water.
“You look similar.” He slides his hands over my thighs and onto my hips. “But you feel different.”
He’s referring to his dead wife, the one I bear a striking resemblance to. I clear my throat, desperate to strengthen my tone. “We are different.”
“I struggle with that…sometimes.”
Digging his fingers in, I grunt as he yanks me higher and his buttons press into the apex of my thighs. I clench my teeth. Devouring me with his gaze, Skull slides his hands along the curve of my waist and pauses just underneath my breasts. “You’re slimmer than she was…and taller.” He brushes his thumb along my rib, and goosebumps spring along my spine. “You need a tulip tattoo right here.”
Subtly, I inhale through my nose and let it silently slip out between my lips. “I’m not interested in replacing your wife, Skull.”
His irises darken. “No one could ever replace my wife.” He inches closer, and I hold my breath as he brushes his soft lips against mine. “But maybe, just once, it wouldn’t hurt to pretend.”
My nose twitches as I fight off a grimace. “Yes, it would.”
I shove him hard and scurry back. Water splashes over the lip of the bath, completely missing the infinity catchment and soaking the bathmat. I twist my body, hissing when my wound feels like it tears open. I claw at the edge of the bath, desperate to pull myself up, but heavy hands clamp on my hips, and I’m tugged back and flipped over. I grunt as he wraps a strong arm around my waist and pins my arms to my side. Donk. I hiss as the back of my head connects with the edge of the bath, sending a sharp pain over the surface of my skull.
“Where are you going, Kitty-Cat?” Skull asks, his Australian accent coming through as the water settles.
Panting, I struggle against him…but it’s
useless. Skull pushes my wet hair out of my face and grins down at me. “I said I’d wait for Stone, but I don’t think I can,” he states, dragging a thumb along my lower lip. “So we’re gonna do things my way tonight.”
He leans in close and brushes his nose against mine.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips. “Don’t do this…”
He plants a soft kiss on my mouth. “I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, his eyes glazing over as he reaches between us and pushes his pants down. “The way you like it…”
Tears well in my eyes. “I’m not her.”
“No, you’re not.” Lifting his hips, he shifts his body and brushes the tip of his cock against my entrance. “But you are tonight.”
I suck air into my lungs and hold it as he applies a little pressure and kisses me deeply.
Knock. Knock. Oh, thank God!
Exhaling in exasperation, Skull turns his head towards the door but refuses to let me go. “Come in,” he bites out. “It better be good.”
The door creaks open, and a man I’ve never seen before pokes his head in. His head is shaved, his eyes a light blue. “Sir, we have movement.”
Skull tenses as he pulls back more. “On the thing?”
The man at the door nods. “And the window is closing.”
Cursing, Skull stuffs himself back into his pants and lets me go. I sink to the bottom of the bath, catching myself on my hands as I gasp in relief. He launches from the bath and tears from the room. Silence falls. The only sounds to be heard is the trickle of water that keeps the bath full and the sound of my panicked breathing.
Another bullet dodged. How long can I keep this up? How long can I avoid the inevitable?
Jai better get here and fast.
Nine
Jai
Murder, Murder
It’s two a.m. I’m wired, and I haven’t slept. To be honest, I’m still a little tipsy too. I grip the steering wheel in my hand, desperately awaiting them to open the gates and let Antoni Smith out. According to Joker, Antoni tipped the cops off on one of their drug deals. I listened to the entire story surrounding Antoni and the Twisted Sons as an empty gesture. All I got from Joker was a bunch of lies. It was a ‘poor me, betrayal of the brotherhood’ claim that I immediately recognized as bullshit. Little does he know, I’ve read the case file and I know the full story. Not surprisingly, Joker is far from the innocent party.
Basically, the police offered Antoni Smith protection if he would testify against Bones and Dex in court for selling crack to school age children. As a father of five, Antoni felt he had a moral obligation to put the fuckers away. Sadly, the charges didn’t stick for the rest of the gang, but at least Bones and Dex are off the streets for life.
That being said, Antoni Smith is still far from innocent. With racketeering, profiteering, and rape up his sleeve, I don’t feel so bad about shooting him.
“They said two a.m.,” Joel growls, shifting in his seat. “It’s now three.”
“I know.” I lean forward. “I’m sure they’ll let him out any second now.”
Right on cue, the large wire gate begins to roll back, and out comes a short man in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, clenching a black jacket in his hand.
“You think that’s him?”
I shrug. “Can’t be anyone else, can it?”
Antoni pushes his fingers through his hair and approaches a black Chevy. Smiling widely, he opens the door and slips inside. The Chevy hums to life and the driver flicks on the lights. Joel and I wait patiently as they reverse out of their parking spot and gently roll out of the lot. I turn my lights on and slap Joker’s truck into drive.
Joker assured me Antoni wouldn’t be able to recognize the truck since it was green the last time he saw it, and that’s good enough for me.
I follow a safe distance behind Antoni’s vehicle for thirty-three minutes. When the Chevy indicates to the left and pulls over, I pull over too, fifty yards behind it, settling nicely behind a large van with a giant, pink cupcake printed on the side.
“Stay here,” I tell Joel. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Be careful, would you?”
I open my door and slip out. Instead of slamming it, I push the door shut, avoiding the loud bang. I step around the cupcake van and see Antoni walking toward me. Where’s his protection? His ride has gone and there are no witnesses. Once again, the New York Police Department is doing a bang up job. I glance up and down the street. For the slums, this is pretty quiet.
Whistling a merry tune, Antoni walks with a skip in his step. I don’t blame him, he’s a free man, after all…or so he thinks.
As he gets closer, I slip my hand into the pocket of my black hoodie and wrap my fingers around the handgun Joker gave me. When he’s within reach, I step in front of him and shove him backwards.
Swearing, he waves his arms and crashes against the pavement.
“I don’t have any money,” he tells me, his voice filled with aggression, not fear.
“I don’t want your money,” I snap, kicking him in the leg.
He shouts and scurries back. “What do you want?”
“Your life.” I whip out my gun, point it at him, and squeeze the trigger without thought.
With a loud bang, the gun kicks into my hand and blood sprays the concrete behind him. I see the life leave his eyes as he drops against the sidewalk and ceases to be.
There. I did it.
I whirl on my heel and march back to the truck. I hear no sirens…not here and not in the distance. Who knows when law enforcement will give a shit enough to come down here?
I pull open my door, but Joel isn’t in the passenger seat. I toss my gun into his seat and climb in. As I flick on my lights, I notice the windows are a little foggy. Why would they be—
“What the fuck?” I slap my rearview mirror and see Monique and Joel in the back seat, putting their arms back through their t-shirts, their lips swollen and red. “What’s she doing here?”
Joel pins her with an angry glare. “She was hiding in the back.”
“So you thought you’d get a quickie in while I splatter someone’s head all over the sidewalk?” I snort. Fucking hell. I look at Monique in the mirror. “And you, don’t you have school in the morning?”
She scoffs and kicks the back of my seat.
“Enough with the kid jokes, please,” Joel snaps. “It makes me fucking uncomfortable.”
I laugh. “You and everyone else.”
“I’ll have you know I’m turning twenty in twelve days,” Monique points out, like it makes a fucking difference.
“That’s cute.” I pull out onto the road and drive off. “Let me know when you can buy me a beer.”
I reach into the compartment on the left side of the dash and open it up. Inside, I retrieve the small cellphone and hit redial, calling Joker’s personal cell.
“You better have good news, Stone,” he answers.
“It’s done,” I tell him. “Are we good to go with Skull?”
Joker pauses, and I hear him smile through the phone. For some reason, dread settles in my stomach. “Of course. Do as we planned. You go in through the back at exactly oh-nine hundred and we go in through the front.”
“You’re not going to fuck me on this, are you?”
“Jai.” Joker laughs. “We’re brothers. I’ve got your back.”
He hangs up and I clench the phone in my fist. Brothers…
“Is he good?” Joel asks, leaning forward as he pushes his head through his hoodie.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “He’s good to go.”
Joel settles onto the backseat with Monique. Tossing the phone, I flick the rearview mirror back to its normal position and stare dead ahead at the road as we roll across it. Unease burrows through my stomach. That phone call doesn’t sit right with me. Something was definitely…off…about it.
Where do I go from here? I don’t know. The least I can do is give Joker the benefit of the doubt. He did initiate me into his
gang, and I did just murder someone in cold blood for him. Maybe, after everything I’ve been through, I’m just being paranoid.
Or maybe, just maybe, Joker is gonna fuck us over.
Ten
Emily
Submerge
The morning sun is warm on my skin. It’s the first day of spring, and it’s surprisingly lovely. For the first time, Skull is letting me outside, and I’m not even chained to anything. Granted, there are a few people lurking in the background with assault rifles, but at this point, I’ll take what I can get.
The environment is beautiful. The air is crisp and clean, and the pool is sparkling.
Skull sits across from me, happier than usual, whistling a merry tune while flicking through the newspaper. Even in a yellow tee and big, bright sunglasses, he’s terrifying.
“You’re awfully cheerful this morning,” I point out, confused since he didn’t get what he wanted from me last night.
Skull glances at me, or at least I think he does. I can’t tell through his shades. “I’m expecting a delivery this morning.”
Smiling, Laura spoons her grapefruit and sucks off the juice. It turns my stomach. To ease it, I reach out and pluck a small piece of bread crust from my plate and eat it.
After Skull left me in the bathroom last night, I got out, dried myself, dressed myself, and went to bed. Before I did that though, I went to the bedroom door and saw that it was left unlocked. I could have ran. I wanted to, but I didn’t fancy being shot again. Besides, I was so tired I ended up sleeping the drug off, only to wake this morning with a bloody nose and extreme kidney pain.
I can’t do that drug again. I don’t think my body can take it.
“John and Sarah,” Skull says, flicking the corner of the paper.
I look at him. “Hm?”
“John Farrell and Sarah Shepard. Those are your parent’s names.”
I frown. What is he talking about?
“Gabriella, nineteen, Blake, sixteen, and, Remi, nine, are the names and ages of your siblings.” He glances up from his newspaper. “Clark is the name of their seven-year-old pug.”