Because of Him Page 4

  He headed off and when I turned, the girls had plastic cups in their hands. Not the red or blue variety. These were opaque with burnt-colored liquid filled inside. Before I could stop them, they drank it down like shots. The guy that handed them the drinks winked at me before striding off. Fuck. I had a bad feeling.

  “What was that?” I asked the brunette because Biscuit fought me at every turn.

  She giggled. “He offered us drinks. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

  Shit, no telling if the drink was spiked. In my experience, drunk girls were easy prey for men like the ones in the room. I glanced around. I could handle myself. I’d been taught to fight at an early age.

  I turned back in time to see a guy talking to Biscuit. Hurriedly, I snagged her around the waist and pulled her to my chest. “Sorry man, mine.”

  The guy eyed me suspiciously. With two girls slung under my arms like trophies, I must have looked like a true baller. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have left my sister with him if I had one. His eyes were hard, and his predatory gaze had me wary. I didn’t know much about the girls, but we’d brought them here. I had to protect them from their drunken selves.

  Gavin strolled up and knocked fists with the guy before taking the brunette from me. The guy gave us another curious glance then nodded to Gavin before melding into the crowd.

  I leaned over and whispered to my best friend. “They drank something some asshole gave them.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What did the asshole look like?”

  I’d been taught to keep my eyes open and know my surroundings including all exits. The wink from the asshole made him easy to remember. “Skinny, glasses, dark hair and a goofy expression.” He reminded me of a squirrel.

  My best friend raised his hand and snapped his fingers, which couldn’t possibly be heard over the noise. But out of my peripheral vision, I saw another guy who stood on a raised platform wearing dark shades snap and point to someone else. It wasn’t long before the squirrel was hauled over, dark mop of hair and all.

  Gavin got in his face and said something under his breath. He’d spoken in a foreign language, one I recognized. Russian. Then, stepping away from the brunette, he placed his hands on either of the squirrel’s cheeks and slapped him a couple of times.

  “Sorry Gav, sorry ladies,” the squirrel said to us before backing off with an expression of someone properly chastised, just like something out of a mobster movie.

  What the fuck was my best friend involved in? I’d gotten out of that life when I moved in with Mom, and now…I’d played my family hand close to the chest. It was obvious that we both had secrets. But I wondered if he knew some of mine…

  “When the match is over, we’re going to have to call it a night,” he said, stepping up next to me with the brunette on his other side. I held onto Biscuit. She wasn’t balking at my possessive touch but she was lingering closer and closer to the ring, only held back by my hold on her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “He—” Gavin gestured in the direction the squirrel had gone, “—assumed they were marks and gave them a little something extra in their drinks.”

  “Fuck,” I said, having assumed as much, but not liking the confirmation. “What are you involved in?” I’d already assumed it was some underground gambling ring where heavy bets were placed on bouts that didn’t show up on cable, along with other kinds of gambling.

  A thunderous roar diverted my attention to the center ring. One guy stood with his hands above his head, clearly the victor. Not seeing his competitor with all the heads in the way, I assumed the he was knocked out, or down for the count.

  Gavin loped off to gather the winnings, while I hung on to the two girls, who wouldn’t keep still. They writhed in some kind of mystical dance, inviting beguiled stares including my own. When Gavin showed up, I was relieved. The way they moved might start a riot. I didn’t ask if I’d won or he did. It didn’t much matter. We had to get them out of there.

  The girls had indeed brought attention to themselves. With the fight over, guys had begun turning hungry gazes in their direction as they continued to move to unheard music.

  The blast of cool air didn’t help clear their heads. Outside, both had grabby hands. In most situations it might not have been a problem.

  “If you didn’t already know how sexy you are?” Biscuit crooned with her hands on my chest, staring in my eyes. “I would be so all over you.”

  She didn’t realize she was already on me. She could barely walk for trying to climb me. I had to scoop her up so we wouldn’t trip. Too bad I couldn’t just take advantage. At least on Biscuit’s part, her actions felt very out of character, despite what little I knew about her.

  “Biscuit.” I stilled her hand to keep it from heading south. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

  After coaxing them into the car, Gavin got us underway, with Biscuit squirming in my lap. A little more contact and I would lose control.

  “Cops,” Gavin muttered, pulling the brunette’s head into his lap. Gavin didn’t have to explain. Too many heads in a car could give them cause to pull us over. And the way the girls were acting, we could be blamed for them being roofied. We had no alibi. We couldn’t tell them about the asshole at the gambling ring unless we wanted to be killed. We were fucked either way.

  I quickly positioned Biscuit on the floor and her innocent eyes widened, stopping my heart. From her kneeling position on the floorboard, she was in perfect position to wrap her ruby lips around my cock. And damn if she didn’t start poking it with her finger. “You seem to have a hard thing going.”

  Flashing lights did nothing to stop the throbbing in my pants, with Biscuit’s finger continuing to probe. I took her wrist to stop her just as her eyes started to lose focus.

  She stared at me a second before placing her head on my lap, which tripled the twitching my dick was doing.

  Gavin and I were sunk in more than one way. The pressing issue was what the cops might suspect. I couldn’t go to jail. If the press found out, I could set Dad’s campaign back. Then they might dig into my background. And though my birth certificate didn’t have my father’s name on it, someone might link my mom to him. And it would be downhill from there.

  The girls were too far gone to explain. All my careful plans could go up in smoke.

  I tried to remain cool as Gavin slowed and pulled over onto the shoulder. He had his hand in the brunette’s hair. I turned away, not sure what was going on there.

  Several heartbeats later, the cops zoomed past. I blew out a breath and looked down to find Biscuit passed out in my lap.

  9

  TADE

  The night only got worse. We didn’t know which of the four places was theirs in the building. With no other option, we brought them into our place. Inside, Gavin and I traded glances at the living room but opted not to leave them there. We had two other roommates and didn’t know who they might bring home. We headed upstairs to our individual rooms. I already knew Biscuit was going to kick my ass in the morning. But what choice did I have? Gavin and I weren’t going to share a small bed together.

  I followed Gavin up with the brunette, passed out, slung over his shoulder. I mirrored the move and fireman-carried Biscuit up. At the top of the stairs, Gavin headed inside his room and I set Biscuit on her feet to lean on me so I could unlock my door. She roused slightly and began to gag. I moved quickly, picking her up to get her to the bathroom in time for her to hurl in the sink. I held her up with one hand and pushed her hair out of the line of fire with the other.

  When she was done, I propped her against the wall behind me and turned on the faucet to clean the worst of it down the drain. She gagged again, but it was too late for me to act. I turned in time for her to spew all over her dress and my arms as I reached for her.

  The force of the puke that left her body reminded me of the scene from The Exorcist. I stood there for a second with my arms extended, staring at the mess I would have to clean up.

  She mut
tered, “I’m sorry,” before gagging again. She was barely conscious, swaying on her feet.

  “You need to get out of the dress,” I urged.

  Her eyes fluttered open for a second only to close again. I had no choice but to undress her. She was covered in spew. I turned on the shower and dumped her in, clothes and all. Even though the water warmed quickly, it made her feisty. She slapped at it as if it were an irritating bug. Somehow, I managed to hose her down along with my forearms. When we were both vomit free, I helped get her floppy arms through her dress and peeled it down.

  “I’m wet,” she complained. As if she’d finally given up, she swayed in the warm spray like she was about to pass out. When I turned off the water, I glanced around only to realize no spare towel had been left in there. I peeled off my shirt and fit it over her head. She couldn’t very well walk out of there dressed in made-see-through-when-wet bra and panties the color of her eyes. I had gotten an eyeful already. Her nipples were pinpricks and her soaking panties revealed that she was bare down below. My cock was granite, and it was going to be a hell of a long night.

  I carried her to my room and had barely dried her off before she was passed out again. I laid her on my bed, propping her on her side, and headed back into the bathroom for cleanup. Living with my father had taught me survival skills, like how to hand-wash clothes and clean up after myself.

  Not wanting her to have to deal with it in the morning, I washed out her dress, freeing it from most of the stains. I cleaned the floor with Lysol, along with the sink. Tired, I hung her dress on the corner of my chest of drawers by the slim straps, using an old rowing trophy to keep it from falling to the floor.

  After I dried her hair, I had no choice but to curl myself around her so that we both fit on the twin bed. I closed my eyes thinking I wouldn’t fall asleep, until I woke later from a sharp crack across my cheek. I sputtered to consciousness in time to stop another blow from making contact by snagging my assailant’s hands.

  “What the hell?” I spouted.

  Biscuit loomed over me. She jerked her hands from mine and backed up to crawl off the bed and stumble to her feet. “What the hell?” She pointed toward her chest. “Why am I wearing your shirt?”

  The black Lacoste Henley did look good on her. I opened my mouth to speak but she wasn’t done with her rant. “You got me drunk, took advantage, undressed me and had me pressed against that.”

  She pointed at my dick. I arched a brow and said, “I didn’t touch you.” Okay, I’d cleaned her up, but I hadn’t taken advantage. “Besides, you can’t blame me for what I don’t have control of. It’s anatomy.”

  “Well keep your anatomy to yourself, asshole.” She snagged her dress, sending my trophy clattering to the ground. She ignored it and pulled the dress over her head, leaving my shirt on underneath. She stormed out of my room before I could stumble to my feet wearing just the jeans I’d left on.

  She was out the front door, giving it a house-rattling slam before I could catch up to her. Gavin and the brunette were standing in the hallway with baffled glances when I turned from the door.

  “What was that?” her friend asked.

  “That was your friend Hurricane Ungrateful. Tell her I said she was welcome for throwing up on me and making me clean up after her. And tell her she can keep the shirt. It can be replaced.”

  10

  REAGAN

  “Did you honestly have to be such a bitch to him?” Megan asked. “They were only trying to help.”

  “Help? Are you honestly okay that anything could have happened to us last night?”

  Though I sounded on the verge of hysteria, I had only myself to blame. I shouldn’t have gone out. I’d known better. But it was her birthday and I tried to be a good friend.

  She glared right back at me. “No. But I’m glad it was them that picked us up and not someone else. I’m not sure I would have turned down any ride.”

  Considering the outcome, she was right. But what disturbed me more was the fact I couldn’t remember much of what happened after we got in Gavin’s car.

  “Look—”

  I was cut off by the sound of my phone chiming. I picked it up, pulling it free from the charger. It had been dead when I’d woken up, and hadn’t been charging long. Though I was sure who was calling without glancing at the screen.

  “Mom.”

  “Reagan.” Her manic tone warned me I’d messed up. “Reagan, you’re okay.”

  Megan had talked me down.

  “I’m okay.”

  “I called you a hundred times and you didn’t answer. I left you messages too.”

  Her worry made me feel like the worst daughter ever.

  “My phone died.”

  “Where were you?” she fired back.

  A lie would be easiest, but the truth was the healthiest way to create boundaries in our relationship, or so the therapist had suggested.

  “I was out.”

  “Out?” Her muffled shrill was only the beginning to her out of control agitated state.

  I took a breath before explaining myself.

  “Mom, I went out with Megan for her birthday. We stayed safe.”

  That was an obvious lie. But in that instant, I didn’t think the truth was worth it.

  “Haven’t I warned you? There are so many dangers out there. People aren’t always what they seem. You have to be careful.”

  Years of therapy hadn’t helped her much, but it had worked somewhat on me. I didn’t want to worry her, but I couldn’t live in a bubble all my life if I wanted a chance to be normal.

  There was a shuffle and Dad got on the line. He must have pried the phone from her hands.

  “Sweetheart.”

  Relief swept over me.

  “Daddy.”

  Though the word was childish, I had to say it. He was my rock…my connection to sanity.

  “You mother was worried about you. I know you are an adult and can make your own choices, but if you could at least text her when she calls. Maybe then, she’ll sleep through the night and not threaten to drive there or call the police.”

  Dad put it all into perspective. I covered my eyes and exhaled.

  “I’m sorry. My phone died and I didn’t realize it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re safe.” He paused and surely got an eyeful of Mom’s ire. “You are being safe?”

  “Yes,” I patiently said. They had a right to be worried. I usually answered whenever either of them called. “I am.”

  “I love you and so does your mother. I’m going to get her some tea and hopefully she’ll lie down for a while.”

  He didn’t add that he would give her pills to help calm her. The things she’d gone through had made her this way, I tried to tell myself to excuse her overprotective nature.

  Before he could hang up, I heard Mom ask in the background if I was still seeing my therapist.

  “Tell her yes,” I said. “Once a week, like clockwork.”

  When I hung up, Megan was staring at me. She’d met Mom when I’d moved in. There was no hiding the crazy.

  “Is your mom okay?”

  I nodded. “She tried to call,” I offered by way of explanation.

  As if I needed more berating, my phone began to chime with all the messages I’d gotten while my phone was dead.

  She gave me a sheepish look. “Does that mean you’re not going to the bonfire next weekend?”

  I glared at her.

  “You told me yourself that the therapist suggested you socialize more,” she added.

  “And look where that’s gotten me.”

  “You had fun, admit it!”

  I shook my head.

  “I think the reason you’re mad is that you like Tade and you don’t want to.”

  I didn’t like the idea. “I don’t like losing control and what happened last night was scary.”

  She pursed her lips and she nodded. “It was. But Gavin and Tade came to our rescue and didn’t take advantage. Give them credit for th
at.”

  Tade hadn’t been an asshole, if I was honest. It had been sort of sweet that he’d cleaned my dress. I had hazy memories of a bathroom and puking. Though I didn’t like the idea he’d seen me practically naked.

  “He undressed me,” I said, not wanting to give him all the credit.

  “Because you barfed all over your clothes. There was no one else around to clean you up.”

  I hated the truth of her words.

  “I still don’t like him.”

  She grinned. “Yes you do.”

  11

  PAST

  My jaw ached, my cheeks burned and my knees were sore, but dumbly I still had the urge to live. Even if I hadn’t, there wasn’t anything in the small boat cabin I could use to kill myself. I’d searched after I’d banged on the door and screamed until my throat was raw. The only response I’d gotten was laughter from the other side.

  The meager meals I received were served on paper plates with a paper cup of water. The wilted lettuce, cheese sandwiches and cold soup weren’t enough to choke on. Though I’d been hungry enough the first time, I scarfed it down without a second thought.

  The will to live had been strong. Maybe because in my head, despite the reality, it all still seemed like a bad dream. Either that or my family would find me soon. They had to. And wouldn’t it be a shame if I managed to kill myself right before they rescued me? Those thoughts had way too much time to burn in my head.

  What I didn’t allow myself to believe was that I would be sold off to the highest bidder. It was against the law. Things like that just couldn’t happen.

  Those thoughts went against all the lessons Kyle had taught me. Though now, I was to call him Sir. I was to call any man Sir and like it.

  When I heard the lock, I went against my training. Instinct had me huddling on the floor in the corner. I’d learned not to be defiant high on the sheetless bed.

  The door shut and my head was slammed back. Pain bloomed and my eyes widened.