Ruthless (Dark MC Romance) Page 6

  I want excitement…I want another line of coke.

  I couldn’t think beyond the fucking present. Everything was immediate. Most disturbing was my lack of feelings for Bryan.

  Shouldn’t I be crying over my dead husband?

  My eyes were dry. It disturbed me to admit that I felt relieved when he died. All the pressure was gone. I wouldn’t be expected to bear his children or force myself into believing that playing house was what I wanted. It wasn’t. Then what was?

  My mind was as blank as the darkness in front of my eyes. Thoughts ran after each other in a circle. All except that little bag of white powder. It was branded into my mind. I want more.

  Despite my obsession, the high faded and boredom suffocated me. Once again I didn’t even have a body. I just floated through the dark, trying to guide the current. I saw myself strapped on a steel table and I thought I heard a squeak.

  No, I can’t have.

  Strange scurrying sounds were underneath me and a cold bead of sweat rolled down my face. The apartment I used to live in with my grandmother was infested with rats. They ran across my feet while I slept. A headless pigeon trapped in a cage flashed across my vision—the pigeons I caught on the street to keep as pets were devoured by rats. I was stupid to think I could have anything for myself. I never forgot how their bodies looked. All of those beautiful, headless bodies slumped in too small cages. Blood spattered everywhere, their little footprints etched all over the garage like a crime scene. My fault.

  A warm, shivering body scurried across my legs and I opened my mouth. Vibrations shook my throat and I heard my blood-curdling scream inside my own head.

  Get it off me!

  I shook my body to dislodge the rat, but its little feet grasped my leg firmly. Its little wet nose sniffed my knee and then it walked up my thigh. My foot jerked as something clawed over it. I could almost see the long, bald tail curled around my foot. Another one?

  My chest rose and fell rapidly, my heart hammering against my chest, as steady as a metronome. I couldn’t voice my panic. They crept closer to me until they sat on my stomach and I imagined their red, little evil eyes staring at me, as if to decide which part was the most edible. They would eat me like those helpless pigeons. Cain somehow knew my worst fear; he locked me in with rats. I could roll around in terror or just give in. Accept it.

  A shrill squeak somehow made it through the headphones as I thrashed. A sudden, sharp pain made me jostle violently. One of the rats retaliated and sank their razor-sharp teeth in my right breast.

  GET OFF, GET OFF!

  He wouldn’t let go and the pain was searing—it was sharp and deep like a knife. I thought of all the bacteria in a rat’s mouth and I saw myself deathly ill from the bite.

  Disgusting, rat bodies clustered around my head, nibbling my hair, biting my earlobes because the soft flesh appealed to them. Light exploded in front of my eyes and things brushed over my ears and the sound of terrified screaming stabbed my ears.

  Inexplicably, my hands and feet were already freed and I lashed out, connecting with something much larger than a rat. I ran to the only corner where I didn’t see anything hiding. I could defend myself from the corner. I could smell them around me. Rats.

  “GET AWAY! GET THEM AWAY FROM ME!”

  Even though my eyes teared up, I forced them open to watch the ground where they would appear. Instead, I saw a pair of leather boots. I looked up and up, following his jeans to the leather jacket torso up to his fair skinned, impassive face.

  My confusion sharpened into rage. “You,” I said heavily. “You put me in a room with those fucking things.”

  He crouched down, but I shrank away from him and his awful, emotionless eyes. “Yes, I did. And if you keep talking to me like that, I’ll leave you in here for a few more hours.”

  Vomit surged up my throat but I swallowed it down. “No, please! I’m sorry, I just don’t understand how you knew…” My voice drifted as Cain's face transformed into amusement.

  A surge of hatred for him made my heart pound as he smirked at me, followed by despair when he stood up suddenly. “Wait, where are you going? Don’t leave me in here.”

  Before I realized what was happening, I stood up and grabbed his jacketed arm. I expected him to hit me again, but he threw his head back and laughed. A slight pang hit me then, because I knew how pathetic I was. I burrowed into his chest and wrapped my arms around him. Breathing in the smell of tobacco and alcohol made me feel calmer. Safe.

  His hands smoothed my head. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

  Cain's face was smooth, devoid of emotion. It’s a trick. “Upstairs?” I said doubtfully.

  He peeled me from his chest before I could answer, and yanked on the doorknob. His fingers dug into my wrist even though I was cooperating, glad to leave the dungeon behind. The club above us sounded like it was in full swing. The rock music pounded the floor and I trudged up the steps. Cain banged on the ceiling and it opened up.

  Crash was waiting for us. They’re going to kill me right now.

  Cain grabbed my shoulders as I tried to twist out of his grip and I looked at the bikers surrounding me. Crash crossed his arms and smiled in grim satisfaction.

  “It’s time, Julia.”

  “NO!”

  I didn’t think Cain realized how badly I would struggle. I aimed a sharp elbow behind me and I heard a deep, male grunt. My legs gave out when he kicked behind my knees. They connected with the wooden floor painfully. I looked up and stared at all the gruff, unkind faces, searching for at least one who would show me mercy.

  A tall, lanky, dark-haired man looked at me, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. He looked—

  Crash stepped in front of me and grabbed my jaw with his gloved hand. A pistol dug into my head as Cain forced me stay on my knees.

  I always knew this was coming, but I was not prepared for it. A swift bullet would explode from that gun any moment. Would I even hear it? What would be my last thought? I dredged up images in my mind of people I loved. They slid past one another, too fast to hold on to.

  “Please,” I screamed in a shrill voice, tears streaming down my face. “I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything—I can make you money. I’m good at pool.”

  “Shut up, bitch.”

  Cain's excited voice spoke up. “No, Crash. Let’s give her a shot. If you win a game against Spike in one play, we’ll let you live.”

  Crash laughed in my face. “You’re a cold bastard, Cain. All right, fine.”

  “Spike!” he barked. “Get the fuck over here.”

  Spike was the lanky fellow who watched me with a disapproving glare on his face. It wasn’t until I saw him glance at Cain that I knew. He was angry with him.

  “Nope. This is a bit more fucked up than I can handle.”

  I wanted to kiss him for saying that.

  The President’s lip curled. “For your information, this bitch stole thousands of dollars from the club, and then the little whore blew it all on blow.”

  “I don’t care.” His chest jutted out as he spoke one foot away from Crash’s face.

  Something went through me when he looked at me. I was too amped with fear to decipher what it was.

  “Spike, just play a game.”

  He swept back his dark, curled hair, and blew a sigh through his young lips. It was as though he was afraid to look at me. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

  “Whatever.”

  My heart sank as he turned around and grabbed a cue from the wall. Cain released my shoulders. I fell forward, my palms slamming into the wood as they laughed around me.

  You can do this. They think you can’t, but you’ve done this a thousand times.

  A hand floated near my face as I sat back, realizing that Spike returned with the cue, and was holding his hand out for me. I took it gratefully and stumbled a bit as I got to my feet.

  Spike frowned, his brown eyes knitted in concern. “Easy does it.”

  He pressed the cue into my
hands and set up the balls on the table. My nerves were jacked, my heart beat so fast waves of dizziness struck my head.

  Make the eight on the break. Make the eight on the break.

  Everyone laughed as I moved the cue ball to the left, positioning it exactly where it needed to be. It was almost touching the side of the table. This was just another game, and Crash was my mark. No matter how sleep-deprived or hungry I was, I could do this.

  I have to do this.

  The noise dropped away and I sank down, eyeing the distance. I chalked my cue and the web of my thumb. Then the cue pulsed in my hand. Once. Twice. Three times.

  The cue ball shot like a bullet and hit the second ball smack in the center, which in turn hit the eight ball. The other balls scattered away and the eight ball landed with a small thunk into the corner pocket.

  I won.

  The noise turned on, and I jumped as someone thumped my back. The bikers stared at me slack-jawed, their cigarettes almost falling from their lips.

  “Wait a minute. Shut the fuck up! How the fuck did she win?”

  “She made the eight on the break,” Spike said, all of the resentment gone from his face.

  The irate President looked at Cain, who shrugged. “I had no idea she could do that.”

  When Crash turned around to glare at me, Cain smiled and nodded at me. Spike leaned against the pool table and lit a cigarette. He caught me staring at him and smiled, deep dimples creasing his face. He had a handsome face and his mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. What threw me was the warmth radiating from his eyes. They were incredibly friendly and open, like he had nothing to hide. He looked at me a little bit longer than the others. I could see him as a ladies’ man. My cheeks flushed when he winked at me.

  He isn’t like the rest of them.

  “I can work for the club,” I told Crash. “I used to hustle for Ace.”

  The grizzled, hard man waved that away. “You fucked him over.”

  “Only because he was beating the shit out of me every day.”

  He gave me a harsh laugh and dug his cigarette into the bar counter. “So?”

  My hand shook with the pool cue and I imagined myself beating him with it. Fucking see how you like it.

  The tall, blonde man stepped between us. “Crash, I’ll claim her as my old lady. I’ll be responsible for her. She’ll toe the line, or she’ll have her head cut off.”

  My whole body shivered as Cain looked at me from across the room and smiled. He would enjoy it, too. I don’t want to be your old lady. But it was either that or death.

  Crash gave him a shrewd grin. “You planned all this, didn’t you?”

  He lifted his shoulder. “When I want something, I take it.”

  The words rolled strangely out of his mouth. They almost sounded like a threat, but the rest of the club looked relaxed as if Cain said nothing out of the ordinary. I stiffened as my new master made a beeline for me and grabbed my arm in a vice grip.

  “Fine,” Crash barked. “But if this bitch takes one step out of line, both of you will be held responsible.”

  The prospect, Spike, kept glancing at me. His eyes burned into the back of my skull as Cain swept me out of the club, past the dumbstruck club whores and the bikers.

  Cain's pale face was completely blank when I finally looked at him. He looked whiter than usual, and I wondered if a part of him still felt fear.

  Why did he do that for me?

  I breathed in the night air with a shuddering sigh of relief. It was strange. The moment my filthy, broken heels passed over the threshold, the sweet air of freedom hit me and my nausea suddenly appeared with a violent reckoning. I pulled away from Cain, my stomach clenching horribly.

  “What are you—”?

  I almost got my head blown open.

  Halfway between sobbing, green bile rose with a vengeance in my throat and burned my lips as I hunched on the dirt and spat it out. Adrenaline still coursed my veins like a speedball, jacking up my heart rate. Pissing, stinking fear held back until my brain sensed that I was safe. Now that I was fine, it slammed into me. I hugged my knees and cried, Cain's jacket flapping in the cooling summer breeze.

  His fingers lightly stroked the top of my head and I was overcome with a bizarre urge to grab his leg and hold on to him. Sadistic bastard or no, he saved my ass.

  “Come,” Cain said in what he probably thought was a gentle voice. It was the same voice he used all the time, only lower.

  Bryan’s gone.

  It hit me all of a sudden. My blouse was dark red and crusted with my husband’s remains. I didn’t love him, but he loved me and he would have treated me well. He was the last person on Earth who I could say that about.

  I’m alone.

  Cain was going to use me—chew me up and spit me out before he ate all the meat off my bones, but at least he wanted me alive—for now. At least he was someone to hold onto. So I did. I took his hand and followed him to his bike.

  * * *

  The surprisingly clean apartment calmed my nerves a little. It was so different from the McMansion I left in Los Angeles, but similarly Spartan. There was nothing on the walls or countertops. No decoration whatsoever. It was completely devoid of personality. Expressionless.

  Cain shut the door and locked it, removing his jacket and hanging it on the wall.

  I’m his old lady. Another wave of dizziness struck me. He owns me.

  His gray eyes sought mine and his head gestured towards the bathroom. “You can get cleaned up. Then you can eat something.”

  I clutched my filthy blouse to my chest. “But—what about clothes?”

  “I got some for you already,” he said as he walked to the bathroom. “C’mon.”

  I’m going to pass out. I tried to imagine him in a mall shopping for women’s clothes and a small laugh escaped me.

  Cain narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  I blanched and shook my head, remembering that he offered to decapitate me unless I toed the line. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Inside the sparkling bathroom was a giant tub and shower. The blonde man sat on the toilet seat and leaned over to turn the knobs on the bathtub.

  “Let’s go,” he snapped when he saw me standing there.

  He was going to watch. Either he didn’t trust me or he was a voyeur. I tried to turn away from him as I stripped the clothes from my body. They fell to my feet like shattered ice sculptures. I tried to enter the tub from the place farthest from him, but his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. My feet slipped on the ceramic tiles as he yanked me towards him and I fell on his lap.

  His coarse jeans rubbed against my thighs and heat bloomed across my chest. My face was a foot away from his, which was fixed with an impatient, angry expression. His blonde eyebrows knitted down and his eyes were devoid of lust.

  “You’re my old lady, now. You need to get used to taking off your clothes in front of me. As long as you obey, we won’t have any problems.”

  I’m not a fucking dog.

  I nodded slightly as I kept my anger to myself, and he let go of my wrist. My legs trembled as I got off him and gingerly stepped over the edge of the bathtub. The hot water immediately eased the tension knotting my muscles and I sank in the water with a grateful sigh. God, it felt good. I grabbed the loofah sitting on the edge and soaped it up with the Irish Spring soap, cleaning every inch of my body.

  Cain didn’t even glance at me. He looked like a portrait of The Thinker with his head on his hand. His hand played with something in his pocket.

  “What’s that?”

  A long glass tube filled with red liquid dangled from his fingers. “I don’t know. They call it, Red.”

  “What’s it for?”

  He shrugged as if the same question plagued him. Then his face turned towards me and grinned. “Want to try it?”

  My nerves still jangled from the cocaine. The last thing I needed was a new drug addiction. “Would you let me go?”

  His laughter rang in the tiled ro
om, making me shiver. He gave me a look that I recognized from all those men I hustled over the years—the condescending look that said I was worthless. Get back in the kitchen, whore.

  “Where the hell would you go?”

  The question punched me in the face.

  Everything is dead, destroyed, gone to shit. I’ve nothing.

  Hating him, I stared into the murky bathwater and tried to soak up some of its heat. I sank backwards until my eyes were submerged. His body was distorted under the water—blurs of beige, white, and yellow. Bubbles popped out of my mouth.

  I stayed there too long. His hand shot in the water and pinched my shoulder. The water cascaded down my face as I sat up. He leaned over the tub, studying me.

  “You’re an old lady of a Vice-President of the most powerful MC in Victoria. That’s not nothing.”

  According to you, I should be grateful? Bullshit.

  “Maybe I don’t want any of that.”

  He smirked. “If I believed that, I would have let him kill you.”

  He may be a sadistic bastard, but he saved my life. I reached down and pulled the drain. The water spiraled down noisily and I shivered as the water exposed me. Standing up, I reached for the towels Cain handed me, patting down my body before wrapping it around my hair. His eyes bounced around as I dried myself. Now that I stepped out of the tub, wet and clean, he sat a little straighter and watched me like he was starving.

  He wanted me. And maybe I wanted him, too.

  My heart hammered as I hung my towel on the hook. Then I closed the space between us. His eyes looked feverish. I sat across his legs, my body hot from the bath, and hooked my hands around his neck. Having a completely naked woman on a man’s lap would excite most men, but Cain looked sedated. In control. He was always in control.

  I wanted him to lose control because I wanted to see if he was really human. My breasts flattened against his chest and my lips grazed his ears. Every man I was ever with loved when I did that. His long exhale billowed in my ear and suddenly his hands grasped my hips and squeezed. I gasped as pleasure shot into my abdomen as if he suddenly fingered me. It was a tease of pleasure, a feeling of being filled without anything actually there.

  “Why are you doing this?”