Blood and Honor (10 page)

Usually, she shut him out but when he finished, Paul was always chatty.
He liked to stroke her hair and talk at her while she ignored his words and fought the urge to vomit.
But this time, what he said…it flipped a switch inside of her brain.

“You’re real special, Mouse.
You’re gonna be my ticket to the big time.”

There was a lot a person could endure, to protect the ones they loved.
But when it came down to it, every person had a threshold.
And for sixteen-year old Michaela Blake, that threshold was the very clear line.
She would not allow herself to be traded for mistakes that Paul would never stop making.

After he finally left her, Mickey sat up and spat into the corner.
Then, something akin to resolve began to form in the pit of her stomach, which roiled with the need to vomit.
A cold, dead numbness spread through Mickey from that strange rolling in her tummy.
She padded to her computer and began to surf the net.
It was time for a plan of her own.
She had to take a stand.
No one was going to help her.
So, Mickey was going to take matters into her own hands.

Somehow, some way, Paul was going to die.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Sirena’s never been on a plane.”

Rhee tried to keep the trepidation from her voice. Because she was pretty sure that she and Sirena were going to be on a plane. Together. Very soon.

Dax looked like he was pissed right off, and Rhee didn’t blame him. Still, maybe they should be grateful—grateful that he’d been given a kind of reprieve from club bullshit for the last three months. It was almost like a delayed paternity leave or something. Rhee sighed. Their little paradise life couldn’t last forever. The club was a part of Dax, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, his crew would always have a place in his life.

Our lives.

“Maybe…maybe you could go handle whatever it is and come right back?” she asked.

Rhee didn’t want to be apart from Dax, especially not now—when she still had three days before her doctor’s appointment. The idea of going back there—to Darling—scared her. There were memories there and most of them were bad.

“Nah, darlin’. I might be a while. And I’m not taking any chances. Not with you—or her.”

The way he looked at Sirena as she napped on the couch, the way the steel in his gaze softened, turned Rhee’s heart into mush.

“Turtle’s here,” she commented softly. Turtle had protected them before. Rhee knew that she and Sirena were safe on the island.

Rhee wasn’t prepared for Dax’s reaction. “You are not
his,
stowaway. You’re
mine
.”

His long fingers shot out and latched around her wrist. He hauled her to him, crushing her sensitive breasts against his hard chest. Then, one large hand was yanking up the material of her loose skirt, cupping her buttock, pulling her open and into his impressive erection.

“Don’t you forget it, hear me, darlin’?”

Rhee was equal parts outraged and aroused.

He can’t just go around manhandling me—ooh!

Dax’s mouth was at her ear. He nipped the sensitive flesh, and then growled low,

“Turtle was supposed to have your back when I got here, baby. Do you remember that night, Rhiannon? What would have happened if I hadn’t been in that parking lot?”

“Fuck you!” She shoved at his chest, anger lacing her desire.

It was the wrong thing to say, but how fucking dare he?! Reminding her of an-almost assault that was her own fucking fault for being too trusting? His comment made her feel stupid—naïve. Like the dumb little girl she had been when she met Dax.

“What the fuck did you say?”

Oh, he was pissed now. Beyond pissed. Rhee’s pulse began to race as his hand clenched around her ass. She chanced a look at his face, daring herself to discover just how angry he was. It was another mistake.

His blue eyes glittered with intensity and raw, male rage.

Rhee gasped. “Let me go, Dax.”

“No.”

His voice was harsh. Possessive. And his response held all kinds of different meanings. Dax wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever. Despite the twinge of fear that his aggression inspired, a tickle of desire bloomed between Rhee’s thighs. This man wanted her in a way she couldn’t describe. It was primal. It was…animal.

Then she did something else—-something that was sure to be a mistake too, but she just couldn’t help herself. She knew what the gesture did to Dax, knew what it would lead to, and even though she was angry at his domineering attitude, she did it anyway. Rhee opened her mouth and slowly, deliberately, ran her tongue across her full bottom lip, drawing his attention to her mouth.

He made that sound—that low, guttural sound deep in his throat, and just like that, the tone of their interaction changed from angry to…carnal.

“Did you curse at me, Rhiannon?”

Oh, shit.
Rhee glanced furtively at Sirena. She had just gone down, over an hour late for her nap.
Let’s see.
No nap yesterday.
Up at five this morning.
Yeah, she’s down for the count.
I’m betting on at least a two-hour window…

“I don’t think I like being cursed at, darlin’. It’s…disrespectful.”

Dax nuzzled her ear, his warm breath igniting a sweet hot desire that raced from his mouth straight into her panties. Rhee shifted on her standing leg, nudging against the rock hard bulge in Dax’s shorts. God, Dax Jamison in board shorts—she could feel the heat from his cock searing her through the thin material of her flimsy underwear…the sensation made her lose all control of herself. And Dax…Dax was perfectly comfortable teasing her, driving her crazy….

No fair!

“Cursing at your man isn’t very nice, little girl.”

Shit, shit, double shit!
She knew what he was getting at and her whole body quivered in nervous anticipation.

“Well?”

He tipped her face up and ran his thumb down the side of her jaw, ever so softly.

“Well, what?” she breathed.

“I think you know what, Rhiannon.”

Oh, when he called her by her given name…

“You’re just begging me for a punishment, aren’t you?”

With that, he swept her off of her feet—or rather, her foot. Rhee found herself staring at a sight that was becoming increasingly more common: the upside down version of the blank ink apparition that adorned Dax’s muscular back. The blood rushed to her head as he kicked open the door to her—their—room.

She was expecting Dax to deposit her on the bed and demand that she present her backside to him—an act that she knew she should resist. But that wasn’t what he did. It took only a matter of seconds and Rhee had to take a moment to process that he was now sitting on the bed, his rock hard erection jutting into her belly. She was facedown, over his sinewy thighs.

Holy shit!

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, stowaway?” His voice had taken on that rough edge—the one that told her he was seconds away from ravaging her body in a way that would leave both of them nearly unconscious in the aftermath of their passion.

“You heard what I said.”

Oh God, where was her cocky bravado coming from? She hadn’t ever pushed Dax like this—not on purpose.

In response, her skirt was hiked up and oh, God, his finger was pulling the elastic of her sodden underwear as taut as a bowstring. She wriggled on his lap, but made no move to disentangle herself.

Snap!

Her panties were torn away, eliciting a needy moan from her mouth.

“Still nothing to say?” His large, rough palm smoothed over her ass, and she quivered in anticipation.

Rhee didn’t move a muscle for almost a full minute. The waiting was agony but she wouldn’t give in. Not now. It was time to see how far this was going to go. And how good it was going to feel. Slowly, deliberately, she wriggled again, rubbing her breast directly against his raging cock.

Slap!
Slap!
Slap!

The flat of his hand made contact with her buttocks, delivering three sharp, erotic smacks in quick succession. She cried out, her own voice sounding foreign to her ears. Hot, liquid silk rushed from her body, dampening her thighs with need.

“What did you say to me earlier, Rhiannon?”

His hand was back to rubbing her ass, in slow, maddening circles. His rough finger came closer and closer to her wet, hot slit. She thrust her bottom up, seeking his hand, wanting that finger, and more, inside of her. It would only take a little bit more stimulation and she would go over the edge. Hard.

But he wasn’t having that. He moved so fast. Like a predator preparing her for the kill. Rhee was on her back before she even registered what he was doing.

“You said, ‘fuck you,’ isn’t that right?”

She nodded, knowing that if she opened her mouth to speak, she would start begging him for it.

Dax smiled wolfishly, his blond hair falling into his eyes. His hair was so much lighter and longer than she ever remembered seeing it. Even though the look on his face would have scared the crap out of the naïve little kid she’d been when she met him, something about that stray patch of blond spiky hair falling across his forehead had Rhee smiling tenderly back at the man who had her wrists pinned and her legs splayed wide beneath him.

“What are you waiting for?” she challenged.

His response was to slam into her with a throaty groan. There was nothing,
nothing
like feeling Dax inside of her body…inside of her heart, soul, her everything. He just—took over—pulled her along with him as he stroked towards the finish line.

Rhee’s mouth opened in a soundless scream as he roared her name. Her insides liquefied as her climax shot through her body and rocketed out her toes.

Dax was breathing hard, his brow moist with perspiration as he held himself above her for just a few seconds. Eyes still closed, he lowered himself carefully to rest his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. It was something he did almost every time they made love. She loved this part—the aftermath—when his guard seemed to be down at last and he was hers—really and truly hers. In these tender moments, Dax didn’t belong to his past. He didn’t belong to the club. He belonged to her.

Only her.

Mine.

As if he was echoing her very thoughts, he whispered into her ear, “You’re
mine
. And I don’t leave what’s
mine
behind.”

Something in Rhee’s heart expanded at those words. Okay, so Dax was a little—possessive. And protective. But…what was wrong with that?

She wrapped her arms around Dax in a fierce hug, pulling his head to her chest. He nuzzled the sensitive peaks of her breast before turning his head to the side. His ear rested directly over her heart, which she was certain was pounding.

“You’re mine, too, Dax Jamison.
Ours.
And don’t
you
forget it. Even when Sirena’s screaming her head off on that plane.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“
Mahalo
?” A pleasant voice asked.

Mickey slammed the pay phone down, her heart pounding. Her damn hands were shaking.

Shit!
I am fucking awful at this.
I can’t even make a simple phone call.
What the fuck am I supposed to say?

“You tell the truth, Mouse.
You always tell the truth.
No one can fault you for being honest.”

Her mother’s words sounded so clearly in her mind that Mickey slumped against the wall of the phone booth, the memory coming into focus with just as much detail. Her mother’s voice, so calm and assured. Her quiet dignity and grace. Her joyful persona.

All of that—before Paul.

“I broke Rhiannon’s favorite dolly!
She’ll hate me forever!
She told me not to touch it.”
Mickey stared at the porcelain face, marred with a crack down one painted cheek.

“Rhiannon will understand.
It was an accident, Mouse.
Trust me, it will feel so much better once you tell her.”

“But…maybe I could hide it, mommy?
And—and you could buy her a new one?
Then…she’ll never know!”

Little girl hope…so sweet and innocent.
It was hard to believe she had ever been so…pure.

“You must tell the truth, Mouse.
Sometimes…the truth is the only thing you have.”

“Okay, mommy.”

The dejection, the fear that her big sister would never forgive her…it consumed Mickey.
Then, Rhiannon came home from her big kid school.
She saw the doll first.
Disappointment flashed across her face and Mickey felt the hot, guilty tears begin to slide down her cheeks.
She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to say a thing.
Rhiannon embraced her, hugging her tightly.

“It’s okay, Mouse.
I was kind of done with it anyway.
I was planning to give her to you.”

That doll, with its cracked cheek, sat on Mickey’s bed for years to come.
It was her cuddle toy, her good luck charm
—
her proof that all was right in the world as long as she had her sister to look out for her.

Then, one day Rhiannon was gone.

And so was Mickey’s innocence.

Chapter Twenty-Five

He’s coming!

Alanna literally had to put her hands over her mouth to prevent the squeal from escaping. Dax was coming back. Hawk wouldn’t say why—only that he had some business to take care of. She was in a total panic. Alanna wasn’t sure how the Dax felt about her, but surely he—he
and
his bitch—would be grateful that she basically saved his kid’s life that day on the beach. Dax would have to show a little gratitude.