Unattainable (8 page)

Ellie’s gut lurched and she dropped to
her knees. She’d barely gotten the toilet seat up before her
stomach emptied. She continued to vomit as the memories assaulted
her—Daniel’s fist slamming into her face not once but three times,
his hand wrapping around her throat, his other ripping at her
clothing, and then feeling his penis pushing against her, unable to
stop him, unable to do anything other than lie on the filthy ground
and bleed.

She was still bent over the toilet, dry
heaving, her stomach long empty, tears streaming painfully down her
swollen face, when there was a knock on the door.

“
Ellie?”

“
I-I’m…f-fine,” she choked
out, acid-flavored saliva dripping from her mouth, obscuring her
words. But she wasn’t fine, she was so far from fine. She felt
disgusting, violated, and utterly terrified. Who did you go to when
it was the police who hurt you? What was left?

As it was, Dirty had already attempted
to blow the man’s head off. What if Daniel had recognized him as he
ran for safety? Was he going to come for Dirty?

One thing was for certain, she had to
get out of Miles City as quickly as possible and back to her life
in Bozeman. But what if that wasn’t enough? What if Daniel was
hell-bent on silencing her and came after her? Then what? Daniel
came from a powerful family with loads of money. He would
undoubtedly have connections within the law, probably even
countrywide.

Oh God, what was she supposed to do
now?

“
Are you sure?” Dirty
asked.

Gripping the rim of the toilet bowl,
Ellie pushed herself to a semistanding position and glanced at her
pile of torn, bloodstained clothing. She sure as hell wasn’t
putting that back on. In fact, the first chance she got she was
going to burn it all.

But she absolutely was not going to
prance around in only a towel in front of Dirty, an aptly named
pervert who’d once demanded she get on her knees and suck him off.
Never mind the criminal aspect, she’d never liked going to the club
with Danny for the sole reason that all the men there were
foul-mouthed and disgusting.

Yet Dirty had saved her, and not just
from being sexually assaulted but from being killed as well. And so
far, since she’d woken up, he hadn’t said more than three words to
her. He’d kept his distance and, strangely enough, looked more
uncomfortable with her presence than she felt.

What choice did she have? At the
moment, she needed his help. Who knew what Daniel was doing at that
very moment? Was he at her parents’ house looking for her? She
closed her eyes, suddenly very grateful she’d planned on surprising
them.

Suddenly, her rental car came to mind.
It was still parked outside the high school just begging for a
ticket, and if she got a ticket her name would pop up, and if her
name popped up…

Frantic, she grabbed for the doorknob
and flung the door wide open, revealing a startled Dirty. “My
rental car!” she cried out. “It’s parked outside the
school.”

In the process of backing quickly away
from her, Dirty paused. “So?” he asked.

“
It’s going to get
ticketed. And Daniel will know I’m still here! He’ll find
me!”

Dirty blinked. “Daniel,” he said slowly
and Ellie realized, in her panic, she’d just given the name of her
attacker away, something she’d planned on keeping quiet in order to
protect herself.

She knew the moment Dirty figured out
exactly who Daniel was. His expression went from confused to not
only hostile, but frightening. Murderous.

“
Mooresville,” he growled
menacingly. “Chief fucktard? That’s who motherfuckin’ did this to
you?”

Ellie swallowed hard. What now? She
obviously needed help and it wasn’t as if her parents could do
anything. Dirty, as well as the Horsemen, she supposed, were her
only option. The more she thought about it, the more a small sense
of comfort began to soothe her tightly strung nerves. If anyone
could take on the law and win, it was Deuce West. As it was, Dirty
had already tried to kill the man.

“
Yes,” she whispered,
feeling disgusted with herself. “God, I was so stupid. What was I
thinking kissing him?”

The next thing she knew Dirty was
grabbing her shoulders, painfully squeezing her bruised skin. The
smell of body odor, motor oil, and cigarette smoke hit her like a
punch in the gut and she recoiled.

“
Fuck that!” he hissed,
shaking her. “This shit isn’t your fault. This is that rich,
thinks-he’s-fuckin’-entitled-to-anything-he-fuckin’-wants asshole’s
fault.”

“
Stop!” she cried, her
terror from last night resurfacing. “Please, you’re hurting
me!”

Dirty froze and a breath later released
her. She scrambled backward, back into the safety of the bathroom,
and tried to breathe as her heart pounded painfully, wondering how
she was going to escape Dirty when he was blocking her only exit.
But when she looked back at him, she found him looking nearly as
afraid as she felt. Not only was he holding his grease-stained
hands out in front of him, he was staring down at them in
disbelief.

Then he glanced up at her and his eyes
went wide. It took Ellie a moment to realize what was wrong; she
was naked, her towel had fallen from her body in her mad scramble
for safety. Quickly, she snatched her towel from the floor and held
it against her body and the second she did, Dirty suddenly spun
around, facing the hallway.

“
I’m sorry,” Dirty said,
his voice suddenly hoarse. “Fuck, I’m really sorry. I don’t know
why I did that.”

Ellie didn’t say anything, just stared
at his back, at his hole-ridden T-shirt and the filthy jeans
sagging off his body.

“
Hang here,” he continued,
his voice rough. “I’m goin’ to the club, gonna let Deuce handle
this shit.”

As soon as Dirty took his first step
forward, Ellie panicked. “Wait!” she cried and Dirty
froze.

“
Don’t leave me here
alone!”

She didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t
want to take the chance that Daniel had seen Dirty last night and
would come looking for him or her or both of them.

“
Fuck,” Dirty muttered.
“Fuckin’ fuck.”

Ellie waited with bated breath to see
what he would say next, hoping and praying he wasn’t going to
abandon her.

• • •

Holy fucking shit. Holy what-the-fuck
fucking shit. Dirty was going to throw up. He was going to fucking
spew his guts all over the damn place. What the fuck was wrong with
him? Why had he grabbed her? He could still feel her skin on his
palms, warm and damp from her shower, her body quivering, the fear
in her voice.

She’d been nearly raped in a filthy
alleyway, beaten unconscious, and he’d only further terrified her.
Then, if shit wasn’t already fucking awful, he’d seen her
naked.

She’d gained weight since he’d last
seen her as a teenager. She’d been curvy before but she was all
curves now. Her stomach far from flat, her full breasts hung heavy,
and her thighs were dimpled with extra weight.

His brothers, most of them, would have
taken one look at her and passed on her in favor of a thinner, more
aesthetically pleasing female.

Actually, most of the boys steered
clear of black women. Some of them because, yeah, they were fucking
racist, others because brothers knew better than to mess with a
sister. Most of the black women they encountered were
gang-affiliated, and not women who messed around. If you wanted a
black bitch in your bed, you’d better have plans on making her your
old lady unless you wanted to find your balls no longer attached to
your body.

But none of it was off-putting to him.
Dirty never discriminated; he didn’t give two fucks who he was
fucking because 99.9% of the time they didn’t have a clue they were
being fucked, and the other 0.1%…

Tap stepped in front of
Deuce. “Hold off a minute, Prez,” he said, looking down at Mama Vi,
his mouth slowly curving into a grin. “Lemme have at her
first.”

“
Fuck you,” Deuce
muttered. “This bitch needs to be put the fuck down.”

“
Yeah,” Tap said, his eyes
never once leaving Mama Vi. “But first I’m gonna show her what the
fuck happens when some fuckin’ cunt thinks she can mess with my
club.”

“
You just wanna fuck her,”
Cox said, lighting up a smoke. “Don’t lie.”

Tap shrugged. “That
too.”

Dirty had been standing off
to the side waiting for it, watching Tap closely, knowing exactly
what was running through the brother’s mind, waiting for Deuce to
okay it before he jumped on board.

He didn’t get the chance
very often to take a woman while she was conscious, a woman he
could do whatever the fuck he wanted to, beat her, brutally fuck
her like a goddamn animal, relish in hearing her beg and
scream.

Because unlike most of the
women he fucked, this bitch deserved what she was about to
get.

She was a cold-blooded
killer; a bitch who had tortured and killed without remorse, a
bitch who deserved to go out in the worst possible way, and women
like her, Dirty didn’t lose any sleep over what he was about to
do.

But he never initiated it.
He let Tap or Bucket or Dimebag take the lead. Deuce already knew
he was fucked in the head. He didn’t want his prez thinking he was
a loose cannon, giving Deuce a reason to strip his
patch.

“
I’m in,” Dirty said,
joining Tap. He kneeled down beside Mama Vi and grabbed a handful
of her hair, yanking her head up. “Don’t let the lack of a mustache
fool ya, baby,” he said, grinning, stroking his full beard. “I’m
always down for a gang bang.”

“
There ain’t nothin’ you
can do to me,” she hissed, “that ain’t already been
done.”

Dirty’s grin grew wider.
That’s what she thought. His foster mother had proven useful in
situations such as these. The sick bitch had an imagination to
rival that of anything he’d ever read about.

“
Yeah?” he asked. “You
hear that, Tap? Guess we’re gonna have to get creative.”

Whatever, as long as he got
to hurt her. Because he needed to hurt her; he needed to hurt
someone, anyone, because he hurt so fucking bad all the damn time
and it never left him, not once, he didn’t get even five fucking
seconds of peace, never, fucking ever. It was always there, a
constant reminder that he was a worthless piece of fucking shit, a
blight on humanity, that he was trash, used up and broken,
unfixable, worse even, because he’d become the monster he’d hated
most of all.

“
Brother, I am all about
creative.”

“
Have at her,” Deuce said.
Grabbing hold of her bound hands, Deuce yanked her to her feet and
shoved her forward into Dirty’s arms. “But it’s me who’s gonna be
puttin’ her to ground.”

Dirty didn’t waste any time
ripping Mama Vi’s shirt open. Then, while Tap was unbuttoning his
leathers, Dirty pulled her jeans down.

“
You go right ahead and
scream, bitch,” Tap growled, grabbing her neck, squeezing tightly
and forcing her to bend over.

And when it was Dirty’s
turn, he damn sure made that bitch scream.

But this was different.

Dirty didn’t want to hurt Ellie, he
didn’t want to make her scream.

Did he?

Fuck.

She looked so soft and warm. She looked
the complete opposite of the women he fucked; the women who
reminded him of…

HER.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He couldn’t even remember the last time
he’d looked upon the front of a naked woman’s body for any length
of time. He’d never fucked a woman on her back. Not
since…

He couldn’t look at them. It was
too…

It was disgusting and
beautiful all at the same time.

Fuck, he couldn’t look at their
breasts, their pussy, without getting nauseous, without his body
growing clammy and paralyzing panic taking root inside of him. It
didn’t even matter that he dosed the women he fucked, he still
couldn’t look at them, even unconscious. Fuck, for the most part he
couldn’t even touch a conscious woman without feeling the
overwhelming urge to bolt. Or jerk off. Or puke. Or knock her out
and fuck her. Or kill them, someone, himself. Or all of the
above.

None of which he wanted to do in front
of Ellie. Or to Ellie. Jesus Christ, why was he suddenly all
fucked-up and confused? Why had it been him to find her? This was
the very last thing he needed. He had to get the fuck away from her
before he did something very stupid.

“
I’ll call Deuce,” he
said, hearing the agony he was feeling in his voice. “Tell him to
come here, okay?”

For a moment he didn’t think she was
going to respond, but there was no fucking way in hell he was going
to turn around. In fact, he was going to go sit in the kitchen, in
a corner, facing the wall until Deuce got here.

“
Okay,” she finally
whispered. “Thank you.”

Dirty hightailed it down the hallway,
already dialing Deuce. Hitting the kitchen, he fell to his knees
and waited for his prez to pick up.