A few hours later, I'm stretching my arms above my head, catching the time.
"Shit..." I hissed.
My phone starts ringing on my bed. I hit answer.
"Faith... Be ready in 15 minutes..." John said.
"Yes..." I answered. I got so lost in my studying that I lost track of time. Unacceptable. I usually need an hour to talk myself into what's about to happen.
Since the last time John and I were together, things have shifted somewhat. He's turning harder. Angrier.
"Fuck!" I picked up my phone, finding John's name and hitting dial, hoping he picks up in time.
"Yes?" John answers, his tone says he's not happy.
"We have a problem..." I said.
"What is it?" He asked with a sigh. I can hear the sound of cars in the background, so he must be on his way.
"Ryan has put one of his friends on watch for me... I don't know why, but I think, well, I'm assuming, that person will be down in the parking lot... They can't see me going out, they'll ask questions... Not to mention they'll follow us..." I explained.
"Yes they can, Faith...Tell them you have a business meeting with one of your out of town bosses... Which you do..." John said the smirk evident in his voice.
My palms sweat with nerves. "T-T-That should work..." I said.
"See you in 15..." He hangs up on me and I look around my room nervously.
I know Ryan will lose his shit if he thinks I lied to him and on top of that, Wicked is smarter than he looks.
'What if he starts putting the breadcrumbs together and figures out what I've been hiding?' I internally panicked. I take a deep breath to try and calm my nerves.
I open a text to Ryan, hoping he's too drunk to read into anything.
"Just so you know, work tonight is an outing with one of my overseas bosses and her colleague..." ~Faith
I put my phone down and rush through my makeup and then I run a brush through my hair.
"What? Where?" ~Ryan
"Rye, I'm safe with them... Your boy can stay here until I get back..." ~Faith
There's a long pause and I'm only just heading out of my dorm room when another texts comes through.
"I want you to get dropped off here after..." ~Ryan
My fingers fly over my keypad furiously.
"Where's here? And I don't know how late I'm going to be?" ~Faith
I also don't know what kind of mood John is going to be in. He may not want to drop me there.
"Clubhouse and it's nonnegotiable..." ~Ryan
Pushing through the doors, I make my way out to John's Maserati. Thank god for tinted windows. A bike catches my eye parked on the corner, with an even younger looking guy than Gypsy on it, a hoodie over his head. He salutes me while firing up his bike. I wave him off. Why the fuck is Ryan being paranoid, more than usual, right now?
Sliding onto the cool Italian leather seat, I shut the door behind myself.
"Hi..." I said looking at the floor.
John pulls out onto the road, filling the empty silence with awkward tension. Things between him and I have been up and down in the past but no matter how low we got, there was a level of safety I found myself feeling while I was around him. He was always gentle while having sex. His placidity is what kept me from knowing he would never kill me, but at the hotel the other night, he felt frustrated. There's a dark cloud of uncertainty that hovers over him now that makes me feel more unnerved than usual.
He continues to drive us out to one of the hotels on the other side of town. "We're staying in tonight?" I asked, which is never a good thing. The food in my stomach rolls, unshed tears floating to the surface.
"Yes, Faith... Come on..." John said as he parked the car.
I shut the door once I'm out and follow him into the lobby, hanging behind as he collects the key. When we're in the elevator, I desperately reach for something, anything, that may guarantee me walking out of here with my life.
"I have to go to the clubhouse tonight..." I said. He doesn't say anything and for a second, I don't think he's going to until the elevator reaches the top and he clears his throat.
"I see..." Following him out into the hallway, the dark gray colored walls swirl in slow motion. He stops outside room #445 and slides the card down the slot until it beeps open. He drops the card onto the counter beside the door, clutching his duffle bag in his hands. "Go into the bathroom and wait until I tell you to come out... Remove your clothes and wear the dress that is laid out in there for you..." He instructed.
I nod. "Yes sir..." I said before making my way to the bathroom. Entering the bathroom through the main bedroom, I close the door and begin undressing when my phone falls from my pocket. "Shit..." I forgot to put it with his keys, if he sees that I've made a mistake, my punishment will be even worse than whatever it is that awaits me.
I should slip the phone away and get ready, but my nerves are frayed and spread thin. I can feel fear blossoming in the pit of my stomach and I'm already feeling nauseous. I hate it when I get that feeling so early into a meeting with John. It only makes what's to come so much more worse. I know I need to calm myself down. If I'm overly jumpy or nervous, John will sense that, and he'll make me pay for it. He likes to maintain certain illusions. Like the one where I'm desperate to be with him, aching to feel him inside me. He likes it when I come to him willingly, a smile to my face.
Of course, it's all a well-worn mask, but it works. He buys it, and that's all I really need. But when the mask slips, there are always consequences. So I do the only thing I can think of. I open a text to Wicked. Why? I don't have a clue.
"I'm sorry..." ~Faith
Before I can stop myself or delete it, I've realized I already sent it. Fuck. I turn my phone on silent and I open my pictures on my phone and find the one I've kept saved in a separate folder all these years.
It's a picture of Ryan, Owen, Austin and I. The 4 of us are bunched together, our faces brown from the sun, our smiles larger than life. In the picture, Ryan has his arm slung over my shoulders, and I'm holding onto 2 of his fingers. We were always like that growing up, forever linked, forever tied to one another.
I stare at Ryan's face. What a difference 4 years can make. It's not like he looks starkly different in terms of features. Sure he's more muscular, more mature now, but it's more than that. The boyishness that he used to possess is gone. The man who replaced him is hard, cold, and calculating. Still, I have my memories, and no one can take those away from me. I stare at Ryan's face, the face of the boy I loved and who loved me in return.
A text pops up on my screen.
"For?" ~Wicked
I bite my lip, and ignore it. I can't right now. I wait for 2 minutes and by the end of it my breathing is calm, and I feel better able to handle whatever torture John has in store for me. I slip my phone into the pocket and splash cold water over my face.
"Okay... Here we go..." I said to myself.
"You may come out!" John said from one of the bedrooms through the door.
Swinging it open, I follow his voice into the master bedroom. When I enter, he's blocked off the whole corner of the room in white sheets with a metal makeshift stand in the middle. It looks like it could be a photo shoot area, with the drop sheets and stand, but when I see the camera on the tripod and the tools lined up beside him, I realize that this isn't John that I'm dealing with tonight.
This is something else.
He makes his way toward me, placing the bunny mask over my face before the blindfold. It's the same mask I used every time I work with him. I'm not sure why he chose it, or the significance of it. I bring it down to it having to do with his perverted mind.
"I'm sorry, Bunny... I was happy having you beside me as my toy... As my greatest and most beautiful possession..." He yanks the ties around the back of my head when I feel the tears seep through to the blindfold.
"What are you going to do, John?" I asked trying to keep my voice from cracking.
"Shh... Don't worry, Bunny... You'll see..." He pauses as I hear rustling in the background. "Always the most beautiful girl in the room... Enough beauty and power to bring any man to his knees and you could have had any... So why him?" He sneered.
"Why who?" Snot runs down my nostrils as the tears become dense. When I go to wipe them away, his hands are on mine, leading me away. I feel the sheet between my toes and I know where I am in the room. My hands are lifted up above my head, as cold metal claws clip around my wrists. John kicks my legs wide, fastening them with metal clamps too. He must have pushed a button because they widen. I'm well acquainted with the spreader bar.
There's a long pause of silence before he speaks, and this time when he does it's through that same voice recorder that he used when he made the last video.
"Every week you leave it, I will punish her..." He said.
'What does he want?' I asked myself internally.
"You're probably wondering what it is I want, as I usually only do sales with clients who I know are readily able to make an exchange..." He continued to speak.
'Usually? What? He's never done this to me in my life... He must be talking to his camera...' I began putting the pieces of his words together.
"The answer is, I don't want anything... Isn't that just the mind fuck for you? You won't know how to save this girl and when you've figured it all out, I can assure you, you will want to..." He continues to speaking a taunting manner. His words baffle me.
'Why does John say that? There's no one coming to save me...' Thought to myself.
"For now, I will have no choice but to end her pretty little life..." He pauses, and I feel the coolness of a pole over my ass. He doesn't hit me though. The cold pole glides down the crack of my ass, to the entrance of my pussy. I cry, a sob escaping as he pushes it up inside of me slowly. My walls tighten, resisting the foreign object. Screaming so loud my throat rips my cries to shreds, my head falls back as pain radiates from between my thighs.
"She was always the endgame..." He finally extracts the pole, slick droplets drip down my inner thigh.
"Blood..." I whimper, my pride and body plucked from its innocence and thrust straight through the gates of Hell. My pussy pulses, swollen from the abuse.
"Let's play a game of Russian..." John began to say.
'Roulette? Just fucking kill me...' I pleaded internally. Heaven won't take me and Hell wouldn't welcome my demons back. I'll be left in purgatory again, only this time for real. 'Fucking. Kill. Me.' I'm tired. My body turns lucid, mind fighting for clarity. Just when I think he's going to put a gun to my temple, I feel the tip enter me and the stabbing pain rocks me all over again.
"There's one bullet in the chamber... We can do guess who..." He said.
Click.
He pulled the trigger. "Oh... Didn't mean to do that..." He cocks the gun again and I tensed around the barrel, the emptiness of my heart is spreading like an infectious disease, becoming hollower the further he goes on. "What will I want you to do?"
Click.
My shoulders start shaking as tears pour down my cheeks and through the blindfold. "What's your name?" He says and I pause, my face falling. Shame falls over me, washing me with dirt as the song keeps playing, on and on and on and on. "She doesn't want to answer, because she's smart..." He pulls out the gun and everything falls silent as his footsteps move closer. "You're lucky she's needed tonight or her punishment would have been much worse..." He taps something. "But there's always next week..." He said.
Finally, he pulls off the blindfold from my eyes and unlatches my wrist and ankles. "On The bed..." I catch the area he has set up. It's almost like he's trying to conceal what he's doing.
"John?" I asked.
"The bed... We're not done..." I move to the bed as he sets the camera up to the side of us. "Look to the left and don't look anywhere else... If you don't listen, I'll bring out the pole again... Understood?" He asked.
I nod, tears streaming down my face as I keep my eyes fixed on the wall. I let my mind wander. Who was here before us. A pamphlet is folded on the bedside table, with a newly married couple smiling back at me.
'You've got to be fucking joking...' This room has probably seen love at its purest, being the honeymoon suite, and yet here we are. Painting the walls with evil.
He moves over me and shoves my face farther into the mattress as I feel the tip of his cock push on my entrance. I do everything in my power to let my mind focus on anything but what he's doing. He continues touching me gently. He continues until his groans spill into my ear from his hot breath and his sweat slicks over my flesh.
When he climbs off of me, I remain still until he tells me I can finally move. "Remove your mask and go have a shower... Make yourself presentable for your brother... Don't want him knowing you're fucking someone else that isn't him..." I ignore the pitiless words, dragging my tired, broken soul to the bathroom.
I turn the shower on hot, without looking at myself in the mirror. Afraid of what I might see. Nothing should surprise me, considering the evil I have witnessed over the years, and I should be used to it, but it still impacts my spirit every time he takes me. Sexual abuse is not something that the human mind can be conditioned with. Survivors find coping mechanisms until they find a way to either escape or it kills you.
Slipping into the shower, I pour shampoos and soaps into my hair while finally allowing the tears to roll down my cheeks. I scrub all the dirt away with my hands, but don't know what to do about the filth that stains my souls. Placing the bottles back onto the counter, I turn the faucet off, wiping the condensation off the mirror and finally take a look at my reflection.
If I show up to the clubhouse like this, Ryan will for sure know something is wrong, and if he misses it, which he won't, I know that Wicked will for sure. My eyes are sunken in, dark circles lining my eyes. My lips are swollen for the stolen kisses, my cheeks red from the salty tears. I know why John did what he did tonight. He destroyed me from the inside. Why hurt someone physically when you can mutilate their soul from the inside.
Reaching for the makeup mirror on the counter I flipped it between my legs, studying where I'm swollen. No bleeding. Whatever I felt must have been whatever John used to lube the pole with. The pain is still raw, though I'm aware it could be more psychological. My heart beats with fragility now, tender and sore. I need a drink. A strong drink. Searching through the cupboards, I find the hairdryer and began on my hair, while taking this time to mentally talk myself down from the cliff I've climbed.
Memories. Memories help.
~~Memory – Christmas 4 Years Ago~~
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked me.
It was Christmas day and we knew how much I liked to keep the angel off the tree until Christmas day. My reasoning was that if the angel was up too early, that demons might steal her. So I waited until Christmas morning to put her up and took her down that night.
"I'm putting the angel up..." I said sending him a smile.
Ryan was shirtless with gray sweat pants fastened around his lean waist, a bowl of granola in one hand and his other gripping a spoon, a smirk on his face.
"I'll help..." He put the bowl down on the coffee table and came closer to me. Since hitting my teen years, it was as though my body's reactions became heightened anytime he was near me. I felt his skin up against my back as he reached up from behind me, his long fingers wrapping around mine to take the angel. My heart short circuited. "Let me do it..." His mouth was close to the back of my head and my eyes closed.
I was either being ridiculous or I'm being sensitive. I wasn't ready to explore other reasons as to why I was reacting to Ryan.
~~Memory End~~
I pull myself out of my memory. That was the last Christmas that Ryan was with us, after that, we stopped celebrating while Mom mourned the 'Death' of her only son. I finished my makeup with a loud exhale and pack everything away, shoving my phone into my back pocket and finally heading out of the bathroom.
The drive to the other side of town was longer than what I was expecting. I think that had more to do with the fact that the silence in the car was beyond awkward or sad. It was eerie.
We pull up to the curb of the clubhouse.
What do I say? 'Thanks for ruining me just that much more, John... Just when I think you couldn't get any worse, you go ahead and prove me wrong...'
I see Slim at the gate, through my side mirror. He takes a couple steps closer to the car and I panic. I need to get out. John's hand comes to my thigh and I have to fight with all of my impulses not to fly away from him.
"Do I need to threaten you about the importance of our situation? You and I?" John asked.
'You and me?' It's what John has always said, in the hopes that over the years it will condition me to believe that we're both doing this together. That's what abusers do. "No..." Taking extra-long to get ready before coming was enough time for me to build up the wall I needed to hide my pain and hurt. The soul never exposes itself unless needed. "Never..." I said and he released my leg.
"I'll contact you this week... We're needed again at L'artisaniant..." He said and my mouth snapped closed, a fizzle of light sparking inside of my chest.
"Okay..." I reached for the door handle, my legs restless to get me out of the car and away from John. Bile rises in my throat as I swallow it back down. "I'll wait to hear from you..." Slipping out of the car, I shut the door and head for the gates as he pulls the car away, the bright taillights disappearing into the distance.
~~Clubhouse~~
"You okay, Faith?" Slim asked.
"What do you mean?" I asked with a tilt of my head.
Music thumps in the distance and I wonder if all they do is party. Before remembering it's the weekend. Of course they're partying.
"You're late..." Ryan snaps in the darkness. I flinched, turning to face him. He's walking toward me, a drink in one hand and a cigarette between his fingers in the other.
Warmth fills my heart at the sight of him, which makes no sense. I shouldn't be filled with anything but hate when it comes to Ryan. Realization imprints the truth into my brain.
'Our souls have recognized each other...' Is the only thought that comes to mind. It's also no secret how hot Ryan is, has always been.
I'd be lying to myself if I had said I've never been attracted to him, it's just I've never wanted to admit it.
"I need a drink..." I said my tone exhausted.
"Do I need to be worried about your drinking?" He asked, flicking the ash off his cigarette and bring it to his soft lips.
Thud, thud, thud.
Oh my god, I can't breathe. His eyes squint from the smoke floating near his pupils and I lean forward, taking it from between his lips and putting it between mine.
"No... You don't have to be worried about a fucking thing..." I walk past him to start my search for Bonnie or Goldie to get me a drink, when his fingers catch mine and he jerks me backward. I fall into his chest.
Thud. Thud.
His familiar scent is like walking through the front door of my home. He wipes my hair from my face before his fingers flex around the back of my neck and he forces my face up to his. Nose to nose.
My eyes plunge to his lips, my breathing stops. "What do you think you're doing walking up in here dressed like sex?" I glare at him, trying to anchor myself to the ground so I don't find myself lost in the maze that is the depth of his blue eyes. His lashes are as thick as sin, his eyes almost too pretty to be male. Ryan is pure masculinity, he doesn't like being beautiful looking.
"Because I can?" His eyebrows raise a little, his top lip curling. I'm feeling reckless.
This back and forth between him and I is becoming an addition that my corpse like soul needs. I'm addicted to the feeling of him being mad at me, pissed, close to me. I'm addicted to Ryan Carter and if you try to lock me in a rehab clinic, I'll only find my way back to him. You can't separate fate, no matter how hard you fuck it.
I run the tip of my nose over his, my eyes closing. "Don't like that, do you?" I asked. His fingers clench around the back of my neck, pulling me in closer. His other hand falls down my lower back, landing on my ass cheek. 'Oh fuck...' I groaned internally.
He grinds himself into my stomach and my body flushes searing heat. "I'm about to fuck you on this floor if you don't watch that mouth, Kitten... Don't try to act like you didn't know that I've wanted that pussy since we were kids..." When my eyes reopen, partially in shock at what he said, he's smirking at me, his lips so close to mine.
"You were too late..." I whisper roughly, unable to hide the sorrow in my voice. I glide my lips over his delicately.
His body stills, his fingers tensing on my ass as his other behind my neck follows suit. I push at his chest before I do something like kiss him, speed walking towards Goldie, Bonnie and few other girls who are sitting at a table.
"Well damn girl..." Goldie said.
It's not until I sit beside her that I notice Ellie is on the other side. I dismiss Ellie with a flick of my hair. "I don't like you..." I hissed. Bonnie starts laughing, as do the other women beside her.
Ellie glares at me. "I'm just doing what I was asked to do... Stop being a bitch..." Ellie said.
I drop down onto one of the chairs, running my hands over my face. "I really need a drink..." I said and almost instantly Bonnie starts pouring slushy from a plastic jog into a red cup.
"Well, welcome to Mandy's watermelon Margaritas! She can't measure, so be careful, they're potent..." Bonnie explains. And honestly I could careless about that.
I take the plastic cup from Bonnie, studying the woman beside her. " Hi... I'm Faith..." I said after taking a nice gulp of the drink.
"I know who you are, Baby girl..." The one I'm guessing is Mandy smirks, flicking the ash off her smoke. "I think everyone here knows who you are now... And it has nothing to do with the sexy little getup you're dressed in and everything to do with the notoriously unattainable and stuck up prick Psycho hovering over you like a starved wolf... I'm Mandy..." She said and I internally high five myself for getting it right.
I take another mouthful of the poison that was poured for me and swipe my lip with the cushion of my thumb. "Ryan is just protective... Or Paranoid... Take your pick..." There's a long pause, so I take another gulp. Ice freezes my brain, but I ignore the throbbing pain, swallowing the rest of it and pouring another.
After tonight, I want to forget everything that happened with John. I need a shot not a drink filled with sugar and ice.
"Mmm... Not the Psycho we know... That man doesn't give a fuck about anyone or anything, expect for the club..." Mandy said. I just shrugged.
"Question! How many time did you guys fuck when you were younger? I feel like it was a LOT!" Goldie asked all giddy.
"Oh just on special occasions, or when we really need to let off steam... Ryan was a horny fucker, even back in the day..." I look around at the shocked stares, realizing that despite the fact that they're teasing me about him, none of them had expect me to actually admit to it. I convulsed with laughter and shake my head at the lot of them. "Jesus... You guys actually believed me? I didn't expect such a gullible group..." Everyone starts laughing when they realize that I was just putting them on. I shake my head looking at Mandy, "Can I steal a smoke?" I asked.
"Sure, honey..." She tosses me her pack. "What mine is yours... Especially is you get Psycho on board..." I take a stick out, pausing at her words.
"Leave the girl alone, ya big sex addict..." Bonnie points to Mandy. "She and Justice, her old man, are swingers... Ignore her digs, Baby girl..." Bonnie explains.
After the initial shock disappears, a throaty giggle vibrates out from me. Damn. Maybe those drinks are strong. Clutching my stomach, I shake my head.
"Oh my god..." Swiping the tears from my eyes, I fill up my cup, low-key taking Goldie's away from her.
"What?! Why are ya'll surprised?" Mandy, I would guess, is in her mid 40's, with long hair and figure to die for. The cut line in her arms a display on how hard she works out.
"I guess I just assumed bikers were... I don't know..." I began but before I could think of something Bonnie cut in.
"Cavemen? They are, these 2 are just weird..." Bonnie said waving her hand dismissively.
"Well, this is good to know... Nice to meet you, Mandy..." I said as Mandy leans forward and blazes my smoke.
"Anytime honey... I will say, Psycho definitely has his hands full with you..." Mandy said.
"Oh come on... We all know Psycho plays in the sandbox and has with Leah... But you know what? I don't think he will with her..." Goldie says pointing her thumb at me.
I really shouldn't get involved in this conversation. For one, it doesn't concern me, and for another, I don't want it getting back to Ryan that I was at all curious. But the alcohol and the vibe has got me loose, and I realize too late that I'm speaking.
"How long has Ryan, I mean Psycho , been playing in the sandbox with Leah?" I asked.
"Fuck if I can remember... Sometimes it feels like months but it could be longer... They're definitely been on and off for a while... For Psycho, that's a fucking commitment..." Goldie said.
I have to admit, I'm surprised by that. It's a long time for Ryan to go back to the same girl. When he was in high school, he'd changed women like some people changed their underwear. If a girl got a second fuck with him, let alone a second date, they were considered way lucky. I tell myself that I'm only mildly curious, but truth is I'm kind of jealous. What the fuck is so special about Leah?
"Huh? Apparently dear old Ryan has changed quite a bit since we were teens..." I find myself saying.
"Apparently, what hasn't changed is his tendency to overreact where you're concerned..." Goldie said.
"Please... He doesn't give a fuck about me anymore... He's made that perfectly clear..." I hissed.
"Girl... You're smart, don't do yourself a disservice by acting stupid..." Goldie said.
I don't respond to that. I just sit there, trying not to think about the implications of Goldie's words.
"Here you go..." Ellie slides a bottle of tequila towards me. I narrow my eyes on the bowl of salt and the limes beside her arm.
"You poisoned mine?" I asked glaring at her.
"No, bitch... I'd rather not be buried in the back yard with my pops yet, if that's alright with you..." Ellie huffed.
I take the bottle from her, flicking off the lid. "I still don't trust you..." I lick the side of thumb and sprinkle salt over the top.
"I earned that..." Ellie grumbled.
"I don't really like you either..." I lick the salt off my hand and shoot back the tequila, squeezing a wedge of lime between my teeth, even though I don't need it.
"Now, I didn't earn that... You'll warm to me..." Ellie said as a matter-of-fact-ly.
"Bitch, I don't warm, I'm ice cold and once someone fucks me over, I never forget..." I wrap my lips around the bottle and suck down another gulp. I'm probably being mean, but the girl deceived us.
"Tough shit, baby girl... I'll be here..." Ellie said leaning back.
Eh, the alcohol is fulling its purpose, that warmth I just said I didn't have is now working its way through my veins.
Goldie picks up her cup, standing on the table, her ass twerking in the air to 'So Good' by Big Sean. " If you both are just going to fight, I'm going to dance... You dance, Faith? You look like you could..." Goldie said.
I giggle, pouring more margarita into my cup, and adding more tequila into it. "Oh dance? Only when I'm drunk..." Just as the words leave my mouth Mandy jumps up on top of the table with a fit of laughter dragging Bonnie up with her.
Every time I've been around these girls since I've known them, I find myself happy. Fulfilled. With all the tequila running through my system and the need to conceal what happened tonight with John along with all of the endorphins pumping through my veins from whatever that was between Ryan and I, I rap off the lyrics while climbing up on top of the table with them, with the help of Bonnie and Mandy. They all roar with praise of me finally joining.
I stick my tongue up against my top lip while gyrating my hips. I've known these girls for all of 5 minutes and they felt more like family to me than my own ever could have given me. The clubhouse feels more like home than the 40 million dollar mansion I was raised in.
"What the fuck!" Someone swears in the back ground, but we all ignore it.
I sing one part in the verse, the one about doing something to his soul, when I'm being pulled down off the table, Ryan's arm hooked securely around my back.
"Ohhhh! Psssyyyccchhhooo!"Goldie yells.
"Do you have to be a piss head while your old man is away on a run?" Gypsy grabs Goldie by her wrist and swings her over his shoulder.
"And that my friends, is why I didn't get up on that table..." Ellie chuckles up at Mandy, who's left dancing alone.
I turn in Ryan's grip, his chest to mine. "I'm fine... I just need my drink..." I lean back to reach for it but Ryan whacks the cup off the table, the contents splashing across the ground. I stick my bottom lip out in a pout. "That's alcohol abuse..." I said with the straightest face ever.
His jaw clenches as his hands dive into his pocket. He tosses his keys at Wicked, who's watching us both carefully. "Drive us home..." Ryan practically demanded.
"I just got here!" I whined with a giggle at the end. I love the clubhouse.
"And now you're leaving..." Ryan's hand falls into mine. Our fingers intertwine as he directs me to the garage where the bikes are lined up.
There's another shed behind the parking lot and beside the bigger shed where the bar and party time usually is, with a large metal sheet door closed.
Wicked comes up beside me as Ryan opens the garage door, sliding it open. "You really didn't think that was going to happen?" Wicked said.
"He said he doesn't give a fuck about me anymore, so no, I didn't think that would happen..." I said shrugging my shoulders.
"For someone apparently so smart, you're sure dumb as fuck..." Wicked said shaking his head.
"Ryan! Can I come?" A girly voice calls out from behind. I'm sick of all the vaginas that want him.
I turn, studying her up and down. "I can answer that... And it's a no..." I growled. Ryan steps behind me, his fingers sprawling out over my belly, before pushing me behind him.
"Get in the car..." He growls at me. He turns to Leah. "No, You can't..." He said and I couldn't help the smirk that appeared.
"But I haven't been to your house!" Leah whines.
I turn around to say something else when Wicked's hand covers my mouth and he starts tossing me into the back seat like I weigh nothing.
"Wicked!" I yell at him, just as he slides into the driver's seat and starts up the car. I freeze. Familiar earthy rumbling of an angry V8 tremors beneath my ass, so I start taking in the details of the car. Tight leather seats, aged steering wheel. "This is his Charger..." I said out loud.
"Yup..." Wicked said.
"Huh... Of course he kept his fucking car, just couldn't keep me..." I whispered, my eyes find him and Leah , who are still talking in front of us. Wicked hasn't turned the headlights on yet, probably because it will flash through the entire compound. "What is she to him anyway?" I find myself asking with a growl.
"She's just one of the many girls Ryan keeps around to fuck until he can't see straight... That's all..." He leans forward and flicks on the radio, pushing the touchscreen and connecting to the Bluetooth.
I pause as Leah leans up on her tippy toes, her fingers around Ryan's neck. She kisses him hard and I look away, not wanting to watch anymore.
"Oh fuck, bitch just kissed him..." Wicked shakes his head. "Ryan doesn't kiss anyone..." I ignore everyone now, pulling out my phone and flicking through my text messages.
"Why'd you text me?" I asked, my eyes connect to his in the rear view mirror.
"Better question... Why did you text me earlier? What was that all about?" His brow arches in question.
Before I can answer, the back door opens on the other side of me, Ryan's cologne spilling into my bubble. I move as far away from him as possible, anger searing through my veins about him and Leah, and then I find myself angry that I'm angry at him. Wicked revs the car loud enough to shake the tin shed and drives us out of the garage.
'Rehab' by Machine Gun Kelly starts playing as I continue to flick through the photos on my phone. Anything to not look at Ryan.
His hand comes to my chin, turning my head to face him. My jaw is set, my eyes faded. Wicked cranks up the song and I wish he didn't. The lyrics hit me on levels they shouldn't be able to reach. He's fixed on me, searching my face as we drive by streetlights. With every passing streetlight, the light only illuminates his features. I wait from him to say something, anything. He doesn't. His eyes fall to my lips before going down to my breast, to my exposed belly, before coming back up to meet mine.
"You mad?" He mouths with a smirk. The music is too loud to hear him.
I'm done. I rip off my belt and move across the seat. He doesn't even seem fazed or shocked as I wrap my thighs around his waist and settle on top of his hard body. He inches back by spreading his legs wide, resting his head against the top of the seat. His eyes remain on mine and my heart beats furiously in my chest.
"Yes, I'm mad..." I say loudly, sliding my thumb between his lips. He bites on it roughly, his hands cupping my ass.
Thud. Thud.
His other hand comes up behind my neck, pulling my face closer to his. "Fucking stop pulling away from me then..." Ryan growled.
My lips drop to his and he opens slightly, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. I deepen the kiss, bringing him closer, his hips meeting the inside of my thighs. The pain that was there is dissolving with every thrust. Having Ryan under my grip is enough for me to forget, even if it's just for now. Just when I think he's going to pull away from me, he flips me onto my back until I'm lying spread eagle over the seats and he sinks between my legs, his mouth never leaving mine.
His tongue explores my mouth, flicking, rubbing and massaging over my mine. Wicked must have cranked the music up even more to cut us out as he picks up speed. Ryan's hand is on the front of my throat when he leans up, catching his breath as my eyes search his. I can almost hear the thoughts rushing around his head. Bringing my hand to the back his neck, I tug him back down to me, grazing my lips over his.
"Stop thinking..." He growls against my lips, and withdraws, retreating back to his side of the car and leaving me high and dry.
Sighing, I pull myself up into my seat and fix my eyes on the back of Wicked's head. More lights pass and I squint to see if what I'm noticing on the back of his neck is really there. The scar that's poking out behind his shirt becomes more visible. My ear drums pulse as the lights flick over his neck. I can't expose the fact that I know what that scar is or means, for the very reason I have the exact same one on my ankle.
~~Ryan's Perspective~~
Kissing never made sense to me. It was something that seemed redundant. I didn't want bitch's lips on mine, I'd much rather have them wrapped around my cock, but I dropped the ball. I got out of hand, by the same hands that always wanted to fix me. Fix my problems. Tell her my secrets, or fuck, just look at me right in the eyes and conjure my soul to give them to her. That's what Faith is to me. She's a walking, talking, fucking witch that is everything my soul wants and craves. My body craves her, but my soul fucking needs her. Having her lips on mine was every fucking thing I thought it would be.
"She's still in bed?" Wicked asked me breaking me out of my torturous thoughts.
"Yeah, she crashed as soon as I put her in there last night..." I replied although Wicked seems suspiciously interested.
"In your bed?" Wicked asked with a raised eyebrow.
I flip him off. "We've been sharing a bed since we were kids, fucker... Nothing different..." I snapped.
"You're right, brother... No different... Oh that's right, expect for the fact that now you want to put your dick inside her..." Wicked said sarcastically.
"Yeah, but that can't happen..." I said through grit teeth.
"Wanna remind me why? You're Psycho, the fucking legend on the streets with a signature... No one would ever want to fuck with you... So why?" He asked.
I clench my jaw. "It's complicated..." I said.
"How so?" He asked.
"You asking a lot of questions today, or what?" I asked.
"Because your face is a little too close to be asking so many questions... All I'm saying is that the 3 of you are fucking secretive as to why you're all to stay away from her... I'm just curious as to why..." Wicked said.
"Because she has to stay away from all of us... It was part of the deal... " I said.
He face pales. "Yeah, I get it now..." He said.
"Good..." I said finally leaving it at that.
~~Faith's Perspective~~
I'm annoyed with myself for how quickly I went to sleep last night. I at least wanted to make it a little harder for him, what with him staying so close and then pulling away. It's enough to give someone whiplash.
Taking the milk from the fridge, I take my glass of milk to the front of the living room, needing a better view of the water. I giggle when I see the ski boat wrapped around his private dock. The fairy lights twist and knot around the railing leading to it. To the right, there's a large tree with claw-like branches, hanging over a fire pit that has scatted chopped logs placed around in a circle for seating. He really built his own life, and I just came back in and crashed it.
"Almost called her, Faith 2.0..." I turn to find Ryan standing a few feet away.
My breath catches in my throat, but I try really hard to hide my reaction. But fucking really? He's standing there, half naked, his perfectly chiseled upper body on display. He has Tattoos and they are all so complicated that they require deep concentration. Except That I don't want it to seem like I'm checking him out. Mainly because I'm trying really hard not to. But damn him for looking so damn good. His pecks are toned, his arms are perfectly muscled, and he has the most amazing 6 pack I have ever seen. Seriously, I've never seen anything quite like it, not even in the fucking movies, and those guys had full-time trainers and insane workout regimens.
Ryan has always been hot and he always had a sexy body, too. But this is on another fucking level. There is nothing remotely boyish about him anymore. He's a man through and through, and I've never been more aware of it until right now. That is, until he gives me a knowing smirk and raises an eyebrow.
"Like what you see, Kitten?" Ryan said smugly.
I roll my eyes, furious that I wasn't more subtle about my attraction to him. "Egotistical bastard... I see that hasn't changed..." I said. He chuckles darkly as though he knows exactly what I'm thinking and trying to hide, namely, my desire for him. "It's beautiful here... You know that right?" I asked.
His body shifts carefully. My chest swells and stomach drops to the ground. "I know, Kitten..." He said.
"Did you design it? Because I gotta say..." I began to say.
Laughter rolls off him, taking the 2 steps down to the living room, coming closer to me. My fingers tense around the glass in my hand. "Hell no... Jade did... She's a famous interior designer in the hills... Has a TV show and shit on Netflix for it..." He said.
I snort, sipping on my milk. "I've seen it... She's changed a lot..." I said my tone sounded a bit sad.
"She has..." Ryan said.
I try to conceal the hurt in my chest at how easily these boys moved on. I know that's what you're supposed to do, but they were all I knew all of my life, and then within 6 months they were gone. All 3 of them. I turned back towards the beach ignoring the intensity of Ryan's gaze.
"Faith..." He growls from behind me. " Turn around..." He demanded.
"Mmmm, Nope... I'm good..." I can't look at him right now. I'm afraid he'll see the secrets I'm hiding beneath, regardless of how bad I want to. I want to kiss him, and I want him to wrap me in his arms and remind me where my happy place always is.
He clears his throat after a long beat of silence. "Remember when you were 4 years old and you'd cry every night? You weren't sure why, but you did... So I'd sneak into your room and let you sleep on my chest..." My heart cracks in my chest, but instead of it being from pain, it cracks open to allow Ryan back in. Piercing ringing blares through my ears. He laughs. "It was the only way you could get to sleep for 2 fucking years... Tired the shit out of me, but it was my most favorite part of being your brother... I'd run my fingers through your hair and you'd sound like you were purring... Which is when I started calling you Kitten..." He said.
I don't know why he's fucking telling me this, especially because he's close to ripping me open completely inside. And I'm terrified of that because, honestly, there's nothing left for me.
"My hair was pretty long back then, and you used to curl your chubby little hands around it... That's how you fell asleep... Sometimes, you'd even pull on my hair and it fucking hurt too... But I never minded because I loved that you needed me... I loved that I was the only one who could soothe you..." He continued on.
A lump is rising in my throat, and I know if he doesn't stop talking soon, I'm going to burst into tears. "What's your point Rye?" I growled as I finally face him, tears pooling at the corner of my eyes. He catches one with his thumb and bring it to his mouth, sucking the drop off. I ignore the way his lips cushion around his thumb for the sake of my ovaries.
"My point is how do I go from that to wanting to bend you over this couch and fuck you until you fucking scream... Hmm?" He growls.
"I don't know... Maybe the same way you left me in that house alone..." I hissed.
"Oh fuck... Kitten... When are you going to drop that fucking shit? I did what I had to do, and that's the answer that you're just going to have to live with..." He turns his back to me, walking away. It only infuriates me even more.
"It's not fucking good enough, Ryan!" I snap. He ignores me again and before I can stop myself, I raise my hand up and throw my now empty glass across the room until it smacks him in the back of his head.
Sweat glistens over his bare chest when he turns. I was so caught up in my outburst that I missed the tattoos that covered his whole back. Before I can tilt my head to study them he's storming back at me, grabbing me by my throat and cutting off my airway while throwing me onto the leather lounge.
"I dare you..." His eyes are on mine, furious, as his lips curl around his teeth. "To fucking hit me and see what the fuck I do..." He growled. I wiggle from under his grip and his hands fly around the place, snatching my wrists to push them above my head. "No shit, I'm going to fucking kill you..." He said.
"Good! At least that will make it all go away!" I snapped the tears continued to fall.
His jaw tenses. "Make what go away? See, you keep saying shit like that and it makes me angry..." He tightens his grip around my wrists. " And I'm almost certain you don't want me feeling that way..." I struggle under him, both terrified and turned on by the weight if him pressed down on top of me.
It feels so strangely right to feel him like this. It's so damn intimate. And yet, it's also wrong. That is what my head's telling me. But my body doesn't want to believe that.
"Stop it..." I said through grit teeth.
"Then you fucking stop it... Tell me what you're hiding..." He demands.
I groan with frustration, desperate to get him off me. It feels like John's hands are wrapping themselves slowly around my neck, squeezing hard and cutting off my circulation. A reminder that I'm forever his.
"Ryan..." I whimper.
"What?" He asked, his eyes falling to my lips.
"Get off me..." The corner of his mouth kicks up in a smirk as he pushes off my body. As soon as his weight is gone, I sigh, stretching my legs out. "Take me back to the dorm... I have to catch up on my homework..." I said glaring at him.
~~Later That Night - Ryan's Perspective~~
I flick the knife between my index finger and my ring finger, rolling it between each one as the old clock ticks in the background, filling the silence with it's loud rusted hands.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
~~Memory – 4 Years Ago~~
"Do you know why you're here?"
There was a TV in the middle of the room with a video playing. We couldn't see his face, but he dressed in all black.
"I'll tell you..."
'We're in a room. Cold. Dark. A Basement?' My wrists were bound to the back of the chair, my mouth tied closed. I found Owen and Austin beside me, dazed and confused. It was a big fucking night last night. Way bigger than we had anticipated. In Fact, Owen wasn't supposed to be drinking at all because of his game today.
I pulled on my ties. We'd been fucking kidnapped. Anger seeped into my pores, my muscles flexing with tension. Mother fucker. The video began to fuzz, like the old box TVs then it came clear. A single black seat, dark leather cushions, a black hoodie with black slacks, and glossy loafers. I was raised in money, spoke fluent 'rich motherfucker' and although this motherfucker used the hoodie as a blanket for his identity, I knew for a fact he knew money too.
"Each of you are leaving... Tonight... Your life has been pushed into fast forward..."
Growling, I tired to bite the gag out of my mouth to no avail. Owen was jumping around in his chair, attempting to pull from his ties while Austin remained quiet, watching the TV as if studying every single detail. We were fucking 18 years old. What the fuck could he want with us? Obviously not money, so it must be a favor from one or all of our parents. You have 3 of the richest fucks in America sitting in one room, bound and gagged, and you know that is has something to do with the parents.
His voice comes back, the robotic tone a dead giveaway that this asshole didn't want us to know who he was.
"Before you even try to refuse... I will tell you right now that there's one very good reason why each of you are going to listen to every single word that comes out of my mouth and not just obey me, but fear me..."
'Not likely, you fucking cunt...' I growled internally.
"You will all be released from this room, with the equipment you need to make your way back to civilization... I'm sure you will admire my technique one day..." He leaned forward and his necklace caught my eye. "All 3 of you will go home, and you will each find a folder on your bed... In that folder will be the reason why you're going to listen to me... You were all set to go to college... You're leaving earlier... You are to be out of your homes no later than midnight tonight... If you try to tell anyone... You friend... Girlfriend... Parent... Aunt... I will gut them, turn their organs into clothing and sell them on Esty..."
He paused and we all waited. He was fucking insane but there was an air of fear that his words left in the room well after he spoke them. A threat that didn't need weapons..
"If you don't leave..." Here it was the big I'll kill you. "Your sister Faith Annabelle Carter..."
The blood drained from my veins and if I wasn't physically a completely healthy man, I'd bleed out on the ground from the mere whisper of her name from his lips.
"Will become mine... When I say mine, I mean you would wish that I had just killed her by the time I was done...I would haunt your every step with her, hang her in front of you like my little rag doll, tearing her at the seams and never stitching her back up... And if you think I don't have that kind of power, I urge you to go home, check out the folder, open your little laptops or phones and simply type in the words K Diamond..."
My jaw tensed and everything inside of my body burned. He relaxed back into his chair.
"I trust you will make the right choice, gentleman, and when you're settled into you life, I will be back... And if I'm not, that, means that one of you fucked up along the way and my arrival will not be one that you like..."
The ceiling opened up and knives fell onto our laps.
"You are dismissed..."
We paused, watching the TV after the video had long since cut out. I took us a while to wiggle around and cut ourselves loose, but once our hands were done, everything else fell away.
"What the fuck was that?" I snapped, glaring at both Owen and Austin.
Owen shook his head. "I don't know, bro... I don't like it..." Owen said.
Heading toward the door, I pulled it open and stepped out onto the deck, confused. "We're on a Yacht?" I said in confusion.
"What?" Austin stepped out from behind me with Owen on his tail.
The door slammed closed behind him and when I reached back for it, it remained locked. "Fuck..." I growled.
Quickly making our way through the power yacht, we jogged up the stairs that lead to the main cabin and I paused seeing the ocean on one side and the shoreline hundreds of metes away on the other.
"What the fuck is going on?" Owen's confusion only annoyed me. None of us know.
"We have to listen to him..." I knew he was rich, but this yacht was something that only people like our families could afford. This wasn't a little fucking toy. This was a damn multi-million dollar machine.
"Why? He could be bluffing..." Owen asked.
I found 3 surf boards lined at the back, standing upright with our names written on pieces of paper and slapped on them with a thick load of sex wax.
"Because I'm not willing to bet of Faith..." I growled.
Owen silenced. Austin reached for his board. "I'm with Ryan..." He said.
"I didn't mean it like that..." Owen attempted to clarify. "Your right... We'll figure this shit out back on shore..." Owen finally said.
All 3 of us grabbed our boards, dove into the ice-cold water at the still of the night and awaited the first wave to come up so we could catch it and ride it all the way to the shoreline. When we got home, I wish I could say he was bluffing.
~~Memory End~~
"What's happening?" Austin asked closing my front door behind himself as he enters. "Man, can you light a fire or something? It's freezing in here..." Austin complains.
"It's because Kitten has been here... That's why..." I watched him move into my sitting room where he falls down onto the single lounge chair, his hair ruffled from his flight.
"Are you going to explain why you called this meeting? I was in the middle of something important..." Austin had always been the level-headed one out of all of us. The one who used his brain more than he used his mouth. It was helpful. Real fucking helpful. Especially when you have Owen and me in a group of 3. But over the years, Austin has opened up a whole fucking lot.
I shouldn't blame that on his wife and him becoming a dad so young, but I know it does have something to do with that. He knocked up the first bitch he found straight after we left. And although he's one of the wealthiest computer software engineers in the United States, and runs the most exclusive computer science business on the side I can't help but resent her a whole fucking lot. Mainly because she's a gold-digging bitch.
"I'll wait until O gets here..." I said.
A few minutes later, Owen's walking through the door, dragging his suitcase behind him. "Yo, I had to catch the fucking red-eye last night just to make it on time... This better be important..." Owen said his tone clearly said he's no mood to fuck around.
I pour him a glass of scotch and hand it to him, removing my vest and placing it on the sofa. When I'm with the 2 of them, the vest comes off. My club will always come first but not when it comes to this.
"I need to ask you both a question and I need you to answer it truthfully..." I said my tone more serious then normal.
Owen sighed, flopping onto the L-shaped couch that over looks the ocean. "You couldn't ask the question through FaceTime? Like damn, I missed you too, but it's off season and me and the family are gearing up to go to Aspen..." Owen said.
I ignore him, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. "Have either of you veered off track?" They all paused, their eyes coming to mine.
"I haven't needed to... He never asked me to do anything more than leave town..." Austin said with a raised eyebrow.
"Same here..." Owen lifts his glass, swallowing the expensive scotch in one swing. "You?" Owen asked.
"I wasn't asked to do anything either..." I squeeze my eyes closed. "Any of you been sent a video?" I asked pinching the bridge of my nose.
"No..." Austin answered
"No..." Owen said.
I pull out my phone and flick through my photos until I find it, tossing my phone onto the sofa beside Owen. He picks it up and I watch as his face contorts into confusion. His lips pinch, his eyes narrow, and his head tilts.
"Who is she?" Owen asked.
"Don't fucking know..." I said.
Austin refuses to look, his eyes remaining fixed on the wall in front of him. "Maybe he's testing us by using bait this time instead of each other..." Austin suggested.
My mouth snaps closed. I don't want to reopen that wound and double the healing time. "I'm pretty sure he made it clear the first time..." Shaking my head, I take a seat on the sofa in front of me, running my hands through my hair. "Nah, this is something else... We're missing something..." Silence wraps around our memories as I'm sure all of us block them out. Memories are the stain that either good or evil leaves on your soul well after departure. This is evil. So very fucking evil.
"What about Wicked? Ask him anything?" Owen asked.
'So... Fucking Wicked...' I growled internally.