Addiction (7 page)
I’m sure he can hear my heart pounding from across the table. “Are you admitting to it?” He knows I think he did it. So why would he say that? He’s starting to confuse me.
“No,” he replies calmly. “I don’t want you to go to the police. Therefore, I would have no reason to act unless you acted first. Which you haven’t done.” He gives me a cruel smile. One that makes him threatening and handsome at the same time. His dark blue eyes light up as they look me up and down, and I swallow nervously.
This man is danger!
Why do women find danger so attractive? Because of men like him. The ones covered in tats and have those smiles that make you weak in the knees. Every person wants a walk on the wild side. To know what sin tastes like. I bet he tastes like the sweetest piece of candy going down; it’s that bitter aftertaste that will get you.
I say nothing but shake my head. Another warning. And he knows I’m not going to go to the cops now. I would have already done so. He probably has them in his pocket anyway. “I haven’t broken my word,” I say, but I’m sure Blane already told him that I tried.
He doesn’t say anything but leans over into his chair as he digs into his back pocket and produces a black wallet. He opens it up and places a card on the table. He then pushes it across the table till it stops in front of me.
I look down at it and see
Seven Deadly Sins
written across the top of the black card in shades of bright blue. I can’t help but notice it’s in the same colors as the tattoos that cover his arms. “You came to my work to give me a business card?” I ask looking back up at him. His dark blue eyes stare so intensely into mine that I swallow nervously. What does he want from me?
“I want to offer you a job.”
I let out a laugh so loud people turn to stare at us. I was not expecting that! “In the club? The club where you deal drugs?” I say a little softer. I may not agree with how this guy runs his life, but he sure as hell isn’t the kind of guy you wanna piss off. He’s proved that.
He leans over, and I find myself pulling back a little as his smell grows stronger. I’m glad I’m already sitting because it would make me weak in the knees. He whispers, “Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean that it’s not going on.” Then his eyes slide over to Shanna, who stands behind the counter. She is staring right at Case, and the moment he looks at her, she looks away and pretends to be cleaning the counter.
“She …?”
He cuts me off. “… is no different than anyone else. Everyone has a drug of choice.” He shrugs casually as he leans back in his seat. His already tight black shirt pulls against his chest, and I can make out the hard muscles.
I can see why she was staring.
That tightness returns to my legs.
I lift my eyes to his dark blue ones. “I’ve never done a drug a day in my life,” I grind out between clenched teeth, angry with myself. You’re letting him get to you.
“Noted,” he says with amusement, a smile tugging at his lips. He reaches up and runs his hand slowly down the side of his face and chin, the sound of his facial hair scratching his hand has me grinding my teeth together. He is so sexy. And I am so stupid! “Anyway, that works in your favor,” he says, and I blink a few times to clear my mind. “My employees are tested. If you can’t pass a drug test, you can’t work for me.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Also ironic. He can sell drugs in his club, but no one can actually do them.
“Well, you don’t have an addiction, so it won’t be a problem for you anyway.” He smiles brightly, showing off his beautiful white teeth again. He looks like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The devil disguised as an angel. He may look beautiful, but he isn’t going to fool me. He has something up his sleeve. Maybe he wants to keep me close so he can keep an eye on me? Knowing I might be trouble for his
business
?
“Did my brother put you up to this?” He had spoken to Blane; maybe this was all his idea.
He tilts his head to the side in thought. “No.” His deep voice speaks the word roughly, and it makes my arms break out in goosebumps. I’ve never known a man to have so much authority in such a simple word.
I shake my head at myself. “Just last week, you threatened me. Then my house gets broken into and then you offer me a job.” I raise an eyebrow in question. “You expect me to believe none of this has to do with you?”
His eyes roam my face as if he’s trying to choose the right words. “Let me prove it to you,” he finally answers.
I wasn’t expecting that. “Prove what?” I ask skeptically.
“That I’m not the bad guy you think I am,” he says simply. And I hate how those words sound. It sounded innocent, but I know the truth. He is using my brother, and he wants to use me as well. He’s just afraid I’ll get in my brother’s way of doing his dirty work for him.
“Thanks.” I stand up, tossing the card onto the table. “But you already proved you were the bad guy when you threatened me.” I go to walk away, but he reaches over and grabs my hand, stopping me. It’s the second time he’s touched me. The first time was when I tried to leave his office. He had been rough and angry, and I had been terrified. But this time, he’s softer. Is it because we are in public?
My eyes lower as I look down at his hand grabbing my wrist. The bright blue ink ends at his wrists. I can see the top of a name but the black band of his watch covers the lower half of it. My eyes make their way up as I trace the blue tribal work and come to more writing on his forearm.
Let go of today. Hold on to hope for tomorrow
. It makes me feel sad for this guy. What kind of childhood did he have? Did his parents do drugs like my father did? Some people just can’t escape their past. Maybe this life was inevitable for him.
“Think about it,” he says bringing me out of my thoughts. With his free hand, he picks the card up from the table and places it in my hand. Then he lets go and walks out the front door with a smirk on his handsome face.
***
I place the car in park in my driveway and get out with a heavy sigh. I’m exhausted. I worked another double today, and my feet and back hurt. Throwing my purse over my shoulder, I walk into the house. My tired legs stumble to a stop when I see Blane and Savannah cuddling on the black leather couch.
“Hey, princess,” Savannah says smiling up at me. Her blond hair is down, and her face is free of makeup. “You okay?” she asks frowning when I don’t return it.
I nod. “Just tired.” I point at the couch. “Where did that come from?”
“Case brought it over today,” Blane answers, lifting a beer to his mouth. He doesn’t bother to look away from the TV that I’m also guessing Case brought over since ours was destroyed in the break-in.
“Case?” I ask skeptically.
Savannah nods. “Yeah, he brought a few things over today.” She points a finger behind her to the kitchen. “He brought some plates and glassware. He said he knew someone who had some extra stuff lying around and they weren’t using it.”
“I bet he did,” I mumble. The guy was just making his rounds today. He’s trying to butter everyone up so I’ll be the only one to hate him. I open my mouth to tell them about him coming by to see me today, but I decide against it. It’s none of their business. Blane knows how I feel about him, and if I tell them he came to offer me a job, it will just make him look better. “Is anyone else thinking guilty conscience?” I ask placing my hand on my hip.
Blane doesn’t even bother to answer that question or even look at me. And that’s fine; I don’t really care to talk to him either.
“He didn’t do it,” Savannah says rolling her eyes in a way that makes her look annoyed I could even think that. “But he said he is gonna ask around to see what he can find out. Apparently, he has connections in this town.” Her excitement for Case is annoying.
“And by connections, you mean if someone tries to sell our stolen shit, he will be notified? Since he is into illegal activity in this town,” I say with sarcasm.
“I’m going to bed,” Blane announces flatly as he stands from the couch, clearly still not happy with me. He looks down at Savannah with a cocked eyebrow in question if she’s gonna follow him or not.
“I’ll be right there,” she tells him with a soft smile.
He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles, “Suit yourself,” then he walks out of the living room and down the hall while downing the rest of his beer.
She sighs heavily as she watches him leave the living room. She then looks up at me. “It’s gonna get better.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” I question.
She runs a hand through her blond hair. “He’s just mad.”
I huff. “Well, so am I. He’s into something that he shouldn’t be in. And our house …” I look around at the black leather couch and matching loveseat. The TV and kitchen … “This guy has us right where he wants us,” I say frustrated.
“Maybe he’s just trying to be a nice guy,” she offers.
I laugh at that. “He takes what is important to us and then replaces it to make himself look better,” I argue. “It’s how he works to gain our trust.”
She stands from the couch and walks over to me. “I’ve never known you to judge someone so much,” she says with a frown.
“And I’ve never known you to bury your head in the sand,” I counter with bite.
She sighs heavily and her shoulders slump. “Taylor, I have been your friend for a very long time and you know that I love you, but I’m also in love with your brother. Please don’t make me pick sides,” she begs softly.
“Don’t worry.” I throw my hands up as I walk past her. I’m tired of this conversation and just tired in general. “I wouldn’t make you choose between the two of us like he is.” And with that, I walk into my bedroom and slam the door shut.
CASE
I walk down the stairs as the lights come on in the club. It had been a pretty normal Saturday night. There were some fights but nothing too bad. The last person walks out the front door as Miller comes toward me from the back hallway.
“Case,” he calls out before he reaches me.
“What’s up, Miller?” I ask as I look down at my phone. I’ve been checking it like crazy since I gave Taylor my card earlier today at the coffee shop. So far, nothing! I figured she would at least call or text me once she got home and saw that I had dropped off some things for their house.
“We have a problem,” he yells from across the club.
I place my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and look up at him. “What is it?” I demand.
He starts to walk off, and I follow him.
The club has a reputation, but what club doesn’t? People go out for a night just wanting to have some fun, and they end up drinking too much. They may even end up finding someone in the club who had a little something that will help them get high. It may be illegal, but it’s nothing new. However, it does tend to cause problems and fights.
Miller is in a mad dash for the back exit of the club, and I know shit isn’t gonna be good. Whenever we have a problem or a fight breaks out in this club, security throws them out back in the alleyway. And that’s where we take care of it. It’s hard to calm down a fight or find out the problem when you have music blaring in your ears and lights flashing all around you.
My jaw tightens as I watch Miller lift the back of his black security shirt and draw his gun from his holster right before he shoves the double doors open.
He’s always extra cautious while I, on the other hand, am not. I like a fight. I fucking welcome them most of the time. Beating the shit out of someone with my bare hands helps me relieve stress.
We step out into the dark alley. A single light humming and flickering on top of the building is all that allows us to see anything. Two men stand with their backs to us. They both turn to face Miller and me as they hear the door shut close. Brecken is holding another guy on the ground, arms pinned behind his back, blood dripping from his busted face.
“What’s going on?” I ask with a sigh. I’ve seen worse. It looks more like a nuisance than a problem.
It’s as if they just realize Miller has a gun because they both take a step back at once, throwing their hands into the air in surrender.
Brecken is the first one to speak. “Seems this sorry piece of shit likes to put his hands on women.” The man he holds on to lets out a whimper.
I look at the other two men standing around since the man on the ground is no threat to us at the moment. “Why are the rest of you out here?”
They both stand, their eyes darting back and forth from Miller to me. “He asked you a question,” he shouts.
“We had no idea what his intentions were,” one says as he stumbles backward.
“And what was that?” I ask looking back at the man Brecken holds. He moans in pain as he tightens his grip on the man’s arms.
“He’s fucking some bitch. He said she was cheating on him and she wasn’t answering his phone calls, so he needed to come up and see her. When he said where she worked, we all decided to come up here and party. But I swear we took no part in what he did to the woman.”
“Where is the woman?” I demand looking around once more, hoping this isn’t going to end with her needing a hospital visit. I stay away from them. Too many questions.
Brecken looks up at me, jaw tight and dark eyes blazing with rage. “Rachel. The woman is Rachel,” he answers through gritted teeth.
I drop my head and run a hand through my dark hair. The woman we shared a bed with this morning. The woman we share quite often. Of course, it’s fucking Rachel. The only woman in this world who knows who I truly am. The only woman who knows just how fucked up I am. And this is typical Rachel drama. She picks men who like to get physical, and I don’t just mean during sex. But you can’t feel sorry for her because she’s not all that innocent. She likes the drama. She feeds off it. And I know very well that she is cheating on this guy. Just this morning with Brecken and myself.
I look back up at Brecken as he smashes the guy’s head into the concrete and he cries out. “You take care of him,” I tell him.
He smiles widely, and I look at Miller. “You know what to do with them.”
I turn around with a flick of my wrist, open the back door, and enter the club on a mission to find Rachel. The first place I look is the women’s bathroom. When I find she’s not in there, I go to the locker room shared by the employees, and after there, I go to the bar thinking maybe she is counting out her tips. Still nothing. I make my way up the stairs, heading to my office because I can see down over the club best from up there. After several minutes go by and I don’t see her below, I figure she just went home, which would surprise me; she wouldn’t just leave after getting into it with anyone. Fighting turns her on. Maybe she left with another guy. There’s no telling really.
I spend the next few minutes shutting down my computer and then lock my office up for the night. I walk down to the end of the hallway and take the next set of stairs that leads up to the third level where I’ve been living for the last nine months since we opened the club.
It’s nothing fancy. I like that it’s all open. It has a small entryway and you can walk right into the living room. The kitchen is right behind it with a cutout window to see into the living room and front door. A hallway to the right leads to two bedrooms. The last door on the left is my bedroom. Tossing my phone onto my kitchen table, I start to unbutton my shirt as I proceed to the bedroom.
When I open my door, I come to a stop as I see Rachel lying on my bed. Already naked. I think back to the first time Brecken and I ever saw her. She was lying on a bed like she is now, but only she was unrecognizable, her face bloodied and bruised. Eyes swollen shut. Face and chest covered in blood. She had been beaten and left for dead. Thankfully, we found her in time.
I couldn’t get her out of my mind. She made me feel something inside I hadn’t felt in years. I had saved her. For once, I had made a difference. Three months after her accident, I took her on a date. I remember the first time we made love. I had looked down at her and wondered how someone could hurt this beautiful woman. Who would want to bruise her face? Because she was beautiful. Big brown eyes that were so beautiful, you could get lost in them. A touch that could set the coldest person on fire.
The second time we made love, she wanted it harder, rougher. It didn’t take long to realize what I was giving her wasn’t enough. By the third time we made love, she begged me to fuck her like a cheap whore. As if she were a slave, needing me to order her to do the naughtiest things she was too hesitant to do unless commanded.
I did it. I realized the more aggressive I got, the wetter she became. She loved my hand around her throat to the point of suffocation. She loved me to pull her hair to the point I ripped some out while I fucked her roughly in the ass. She loved the way I made her kneel as I fucked her mouth in a way that would be brutal to some. There were even times I stopped because I thought I was being too rough. But she begged me to continue. To push harder. To fuck her longer.
On our first date, I thought I saw myself falling in love with her someday. I thought she could be the woman to save me. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized it wasn’t love. She was just another woman who was fucking crazy. And it turns out, my cock loves crazy!
The worst part is that I couldn’t feel sorry for her ‘cause it all felt so good to me. And who was I to judge what she liked? Needed? Everyone has an addiction to help them ease the pain. She had a rough life growing up. Her father had beaten her mother on a daily basis. She heard it night after night as he beat her and then fucked her. At the age of sixteen, she lost her virginity to a man who was twenty-one. After he was done with her, he ordered her to lay there while his friend had his way with her. After he was done, they both took her at the same time. I felt heartbroken for her, but she told me how much she liked it. Wanted it. How she begged them to do it over and over again.
One night, she came over while Brecken was at my house visiting. She asked me if we had ever shared a woman. When we told her no, she asked if we would like to. It only took us a second to realize what she was offering, and neither of us wanted to tell her no. We were two best friends getting to share one beautiful woman. No man would pass that up.
It didn’t take her long to place her hands on me. Slapping and punching, she would try to provoke me to hit her. The same with Brecken. We never would give her the fight that she wanted, but that didn’t mean we didn’t fuck the rage out of her. She needed an outlet, and sex was that for her.
“Case.” She sighs heavily. “What took you so long?” She reaches up and runs her finger along the cut on her lip, smearing the blood. She then lets out a moan when she places the end of her finger into her mouth. My cock starts to harden in response. Rachel is one of those women who no matter how fucking crazy she is, you still want her again and again because the fuck is just that good. Brecken and I both know that we’re not the only guys she fucks, but we also know we’re the only ones she comes back to. Even if we are the ones who have to clean up her messes.
I should ask her what she’s doing in my bed, but I know the answer—she wants to be fucked. Treated how she thinks she deserves, like trash. So instead, I say, “Why did you bring him into my club?” She knows I don’t tolerate shit like that in my club. It brings in unwanted attention. Cops show up. They ask questions. It leads to trouble I don’t care to mess with.
She whimpers as she arches her back. She slides her hands up her ribs and grabs a hold of her tits. She gasps as her hands move to her nipples, and she pinches them between two fingers. Her hips buck off the bed, and she pulls her knees up. “Case …” She sighs my name, and I lick my lips.
She stretches her hands above her head, placing her hand under one of my pillows. When she pulls her hand out from underneath it, she has a pair of handcuffs in her hand. They’re her favorite accessory. “I fucked up,” she says not sounding a bit remorseful. The sound of them tightening as she places one cuff around her right wrist and then places her hands behind her back. I hear the click of the metal as she cuffs her other wrist herself. For most women, that would be hard and maybe impossible, but Rachel has had a lot of practice.
“What are you gonna do to me?” Her eyes drop down to my black belt, and I understand perfectly what she wants. Punishment. And my cock hardens to the point of pain knowing that she’s going to get off on that.
My hands go to my belt, and I very slowly undo it as her dark eyes watch my movement. Her lips part and she sucks in a breath as she gets up onto her knees as the sound of my belt slips through the belt loops of my jeans.
“You know I don’t tolerate such bullshit,” I say voice hard.
She whimpers as her body shudders, making her fake tits bounce. Her pink nipples are hard, and I can’t wait to wrap my lips around them and suck them into my mouth. “I’m sorry …”
I reach out and wrap my hand around her throat, cutting off her air. She looks up at me, and her dark brown eyes are half closed. This is her drug. This is what she needs in order to get by. I hear the clanking of her cuffs, and I smile down at her. She always tries to fight it because she likes the marks they leave.
I place my belt on the bed beside her. “Spread your legs,” I demand. She does as I say, and I run my hand between her thighs, very slowly inching my fingers up to cup her pussy. She tries to jerk away when I push a finger into her to see how wet she already is. I close my eyes and let out a sigh as I think of all the things I’m gonna do to her; only, it’s not her face I see. It’s Taylor.
No! My eyes spring open.
She’s off-limits.
“Don’t pretend to be sorry,” I say my voice hardening, pissed that I thought of Taylor that way. I lower my lips close to hers. “But I’m gonna make you sorry …”