The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel (2 page)

I rubbed my nose and smiled up at him. “I’m all yours.”

TWO

I was almost home. My sweater dragging along behind me. The drugs had hit my system some ten minutes ago. The hot summer breeze prickled along my sensitive skin. It felt good. Better than my throat. The coppery flavor still lingered in my mouth. I hocked a loogie on the pavement. I didn’t have to see it to know there was blood in it.

I didn’t typically let men fuck my face, at least not roughly. I had a terrible gag reflex, but when it came to Jorge and my cocaine, well I’d let him fuck the shit out whatever he wanted—as long as I got my drugs. I’d thrown up twice while he forced his dick down my throat. He didn’t seem to mind it.

I flipped open my purse and snatched out my cigarettes with my free hand, the other holding my sweater. I shoved the cancer stick in my mouth and pulled the lighter out, spinning the gear, awakening a tiny flame. I breathed in deep, sucking in the sweet warmth.

I sighed, basking in the high, letting it settle into my bones. My cunt still hurt from all the fucking I’d done today, but the blow made it better. Energy I hadn’t had earlier pushed at the inside of my skin. I took a long drag on my cigarette, wondering how Shauna’s night was going. Her and I were different. She was older, twenty-three, and homeless for entirely different reasons.

A car screeching to a halt next to me on the service road invaded my thoughts. I jumped back eyeing the black SUV. A door slammed and shoes crunched on pavement. Panic bubbled in my stomach. I turned on my heel and started running.

“Faye! Wait!” The sound of my name froze me in my tracks.
It’s just one of my Johns.
I smiled to myself and turned around. I wouldn’t even have to walk all the way back to the Stop to start my night.

I swayed my hips seductively as I made my way back to the SUV. The light from the highway and the Truck Stop were dim here, but bright enough to see a little. The man coming toward me was tall, with big broad shoulders encased in some sort of suit jacket.
A suit?
It wasn’t too often I had men in suits looking for a fuck, but I wasn’t someone to complain. The guy towered over my short stature. I couldn’t see his face, shadows of the night covered it.

This one has money.

“It’ll be a hundred if you want to fuck me, sixty for a blow job.”

“What?” he growled.

I frowned and stopped a few feet away from him. “I said you can fuck me for a hundred dollars. A blow job is—”

A disgusting grunt left the man’s lips, forcing me to stop.

“What?” I asked, eying him. Did he think that was too expensive? I took another drag on my cigarette.

He stood there for a moment, quiet. “How much would it be if I wanted both?”

I smirked at him, exhaling smoke. “I’ll give you a real good deal. One-twenty for both, baby.”

He was quiet, the silence annoying me. Why wasn’t he agreeing, flirting back with me like they usually did? I had to have fucked him before…he knew my name.

“Fine. In my car.” He turned around and headed back toward the SUV. I followed, grinding my cigarette into the shoulder of the road.

He climbed into the back seat.

I frowned and then noticed there was a different man in the driver’s seat.
Really?
I knew how this was going to go. I didn’t make a habit of getting into cars with more than one man unless they had the money up front, paying me for both. Wise guy in the suit only asked for him. I wasn’t about to be gang-raped and left on the side of the road. No thanks. Not again.

I turned to head toward the Truck Stop.

“Faye, where are you going?” suit guy asked.

“If you both want to fuck me, it has to be separate and extra,” I said, not turning around.

A big hand grasped my arm. I whirled around, ready to punch, but suit guy caught my fist. “I should have known you were going to make this fucking complicated.” He jerked me toward the car.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I struggled against his hold, true panic gripping me.

“It means you haven’t changed much in the last four years.”

The last four years? The fuck? Who is this guy?
My mind whirled as I flailed against him, not making any progress. He pulled me along effortlessly. “Fuck you!” I tried to reach for my purse, but he stilled my arm. The other guy was outside holding the backdoor open for us. I was unceremoniously thrown inside, suit guy following in after me.

I scrambled to the other side of the car, trying to get out, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t bother. It won’t open,” the low voice of suit guy rumbled behind me.

That voice.
I knew that voice from somewhere. I hadn’t noticed it outside, but there was no denying it was familiar now.
Maybe I have fucked him?

I turned around slowly, taking a deep breath. I’d been in these situations before. Ones that felt bleak and terrifying. Sometimes I could talk my way out of them. I may not have a high school diploma, but I was street smart and men were dumb. “Look, I’ll give you both a good deal. It doesn’t have to be rape. It can be fun. I can make it fun for all of us.” I smiled, letting my gaze fall on suit guy.

I nearly choked on the air in my lungs at the sight of him. Blond, spiked hair covered his head. A short, trimmed beard covered his a masculine jaw. Green eyes stared back at me, sparking with something that looked like hate. I knew those eyes. I had dreamed about them every night for years.
It can’t be.
I let my gaze dart all over him, taking everything in. A different face, one so similar to his flared to life in my mind, superimposing itself over his. Floppy, rocker-style hair, green eyes, a smile that made my heart pound.

It is him.

“We don’t want to fuck you.” He eyed my body, disgust on his face. “Believe me. Fucking you is the last thing we would ever want to do in our entire life,” he added, digging into his black pants pocket. He extracted a small bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted it into his hands.

I chewed my inner lip and stared at it. The action, coupled with his words, dug into me like a knife, sending me back to that day more than four years ago. That day, like so many others that ruined me.

“What do you want from me?” The words were breathless fluttering from my lips of their own accord.

A cruel smile curved his lips. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Something inside me snapped with his words. I wasn’t the same little girl anymore. The same girl who let her heart get broken over a silly crush. I let my lips curl up in the corners. “I could never forget my big brother, Rhett.”

Something even more sinister covered his face. “Step-brother,” he corrected me. “Clearly we don’t share blood.” He gestured between us, like the very idea was absurd.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed clenching my hands at my sides.

“I’ve been looking for you for a good while.”

“Why?” I couldn’t help the excitement that jumped into my throat. Rhett’s dad had married my mom when I was barely nine years old. He was ten years older than me and was gone to college a lot, only coming home on holidays, but that didn’t keep me from crushing on him. When I was younger he played with me when no one else had time and then when I turned fifteen he came home for the whole summer. It was easily the best three months of my life. Rhett was different than anyone else I’d ever met. He was so kind, so handsome. He made me feel safe. That was the only time since my mother had married Taylor that I spent more than two nights alone in my bed.

“It’s your mom,” Rhett said quietly. I blinked, coming out of the past.

My mom?
I didn’t think about her much. In fact I pushed her as far out of my mind as I could at every opportunity. But to have someone sitting in front of me, someone who had seen her, who knew how she was doing, it made my heart swell and my eyes feel hot. “What about her?” the words came out as a whisper.
What had she been doing these last three years? Was she okay?

The smirk left Rhett’s face and he brought his hands back into his lap. He looked a little uncertain, as if my reaction had surprised him. “She’s dead.”

THREE

A bubble of laughter escaped my lips. “No. She’s not. You’re wrong.”

“She died yesterday,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

“No.” I shook my head. “You have the wrong person.” The back of my eyes grew hotter.

“I don’t, Faye Turner. You know that.”

She couldn’t be dead. Not my mother. Not the woman I left three years ago in her expensive state-of-the-art kitchen, humming a Journey song while she mixed herself a fruit smoothie.

A hot tear escaped, trailing down my cheek. Rhett’s hate-filled gaze followed its descent. “What happened to her?”

“She had leukemia.” He paused. “Cancer.”

“I know what it is,” I grumbled, more tears following the first one.

“Okay, Jarrod, let’s go.” The guy in the driver’s seat put the car into gear and started pulling onto the service road.

“What? No! I’m not going with you.” I pulled at the handle of the car again, trying to get out.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m fucking not, Rhett.” All I could think about was getting to the little tent I called home and seeing Shauna. “Let me out of the car.” Tears blurred my vision.

“Yes, you are, Faye, and you know why?” His tone was lethal making me pause. “Because Jessica wanted you home. That’s all she wanted in the last three fucking years since you ran away. And you’re going to do that. You understand?” He grabbed my chin between two fingers. “You’re going to come home and go to that fucking funeral and then you can come back and sell your body all you want. But you
will
go that funeral.”

I stared up into his eyes, so green, so familiar, but different, angry. I’d never seen him like this. Never angry, not with me. Even when he’d broken my heart into a thousand pieces he hadn’t looked at me like this. And just like that, I let all the fight peeter out of me and dissolve into the air around us. “Okay.”

Rhett released my chin with a shove and scooted away from me. “Good.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed in my new temporary room. It felt weird knowing that I was going to sleep here. It had been a long time since my body had graced the sheets of a bed for anything besides a paid fuck. Rhett had left me alone just a few minutes ago. The look of disgust on his face had only become more severe over the hour and a half drive and when he left me in the spare bedroom of his apartment he looked absolutely repulsed by the sight of me in his space.

I’d spent most of the drive crying. It wasn’t long after agreeing to go with him that another fear had suffocated me.
Where would I be staying?
When Rhett admitted he was bringing me here, relief set in. I wouldn’t stay with that man. My mother’s husband. I didn’t tell Rhett that, and he didn’t bother asking why I wanted to know.

The room was nice, like what I saw of the rest of the apartment it was practically bare save for a few minor decorations. This room had only a full bed and a dresser. I almost laughed at the sight of the dresser. I could remember when I had one, when I had so many clothes they spilled out of the drawers onto the floor. My mom had bought it for me. It was dark wood, with a mirror, much like the one here.