Wild Card, page 8
“Things will be different once we’re married,” I tell him, feeling cold inside. Just the thought of this man touching me now has my stomach churning.
“How do I know you're not just saying that to stall me?” Brett shakes his head.
“You have no idea what it’s like growing up without a dad; having no idea who he is or what kind of man he is. Mom had a past, one she regretted, and one I’ve learned from.”
“You're not a whore like she was, Ruby. You’re my girlfr— Fiancée now,” he corrects himself. “You know if I were to get you pregnant, I’d take care of you. It’s all I want. Me, you, and a houseful of kids.” He softens his tone, but I don’t buy what he says. The past few days, he’s made me feel worthless. Come to think about it, he’s always made me feel that way. Which is why I don’t understand why he’d lower his standards and marry me.
Brett Porter is a handsome guy; he’s successful and charming to those who don’t know him. He could have any girl he wants.
“Stay here with me tonight,” he suggests, placing his hand on my thigh. “I know you're scared, but we can ease into things…I’ll be gentle.” Being scared doesn’t come into it. I’m not afraid to have sex, I just don’t want it with this man.
“You're in no state to be thinking about things like that; you need to rest,” I tell him politely, trying to ignore the bile that rises in my throat when I think about his hands touching me. Once I let that happen, he will be all I’ve ever known, and that terrifies me.
“Ruby, I’m fine. I know I don’t look it right now, but the pain meds are working and the swelling will go down in a few days.”
“Just be patient with me, Brett, please,” I beg him. “I promise once we’re married, things will be different.” It’s a promise I don’t want to make, but one I have to
“Damn right it will be.” He tuts, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.
“I should get back, Earl struggles with locking up by himself," I tell him, assuming he doesn't know that Ash is staying at the bar too. If he did, I can’t imagine he’d let me go back there.
“Whatever pleases you, dear.” He sniggers sarcastically, looking back at the TV. So I stand up and slip back into my shoes, leaving him watching some cop show and wondering what evil has possessed me, when for a split second I wish that I’d let Ash kill him.
My heart stops when my cab pulls up and I see an ambulance outside the bar. The first person I think of is Earl. He’s been getting more and more fragile lately, and I keep telling him to see Dr. Armstrong about his palpitations. Paying the driver, I rush out, calling out Earl's name until I run straight into a huge, solid chest.
“Relax, it ain’t Earl.” I look up and see Ash’s warm, brown eyes looking down at me. His arms have wrapped all the way around me, engulfing me in that scent I smelled on the ride back from the house this afternoon.
I let him hold me for longer than I should, feeling his lips press down on the top of my head while I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I quickly remember that I can’t do this, not to him or myself.
I’ve led this guy on enough already, and although it’s all his own fault for being so damn handsome, I need to take some control.
“Who was it?” I drag myself away, despite how much I need his comfort right now. I wish I could tell him everything so he’d know I’m not crazy.
“Sheriff Underwood’s son. He took some of those pills that have been going around,” he explains, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m glad you're back. I’m gonna need you to lock up the bar while I go deal with something.” He suddenly looks all fired up and mad.
“Not Brett.” I shake my head at him.
“No, not Brett. Not this time, but if you think I’mma just let that go, you're mistaken.” I shouldn’t feel butterflies in my stomach from hearing that; I should feel dread, but no matter how much I try to ignore it, there's a part of me that wants this man to save me.
“Then where are you going?” I grip his arm when he moves to leave.
“Club business, darlin’.” His voice is all low and scratchy.
“Is it dangerous?” I ask him, wanting his arms back around me again.
“You just head on inside and pour these folks out here a drink. The kid had everyone worried.” He swerves my question, and when his hand starts to tug out of mine, I really want to cling to it.
“Be careful,” I tell him.
“Careful, sweetheart, you almost sound like you care about me.” He hits me with that cocky grin of his before dashing off into the night and leaving me even more conflicted than I was before.
THIRTEEN
Ash
Ihalt my bike with a skid outside the grimy, dated-looking motel and march straight into the reception.
“I’m looking for a kid who hangs around here. Got a tattoo of a scorpion on his hand.” I glare harshly at the middle-aged man who’s got his feet up on the desk, eating from a family-sized bag of chips. He’s got the TV on max volume and looks at me begrudgingly as he picks up the remote control and turns it down.
“Sorry, I can’t help you; customer confidentiality and all that.” He shrugs before taking a sip from his beer and getting back to his chips. I ain’t in the mood for this shit tonight, so I reach over the counter, take hold of the string vest he’s wearing under his shirt, and drag him up to meet my eye level.
“You want me to put your face through that TV screen, and that bottle up your ass?” I ask him, watching his eyes bulge outta their sockets as he quickly shakes his head at me.
“The kid, where is he?” I ask him again.
“Room four. I…I’ll getcha a key.”
“I won’t need one.” I drop him back into his seat and storm back out, making my way across the rotted wood walkway until I get to room four. When I put my boot through the door to kick it open, I hear a piercing scream come from inside that sounds as if it came from a female. There’s some movement in the dark, and when I feel around the wall for a light switch, I flick on the light and see the guy I’m looking for lying ass-naked on the bed, looking like a deer in the headlights. My eyes divert to the floor, where there’s a terrified girl curled up and clutching the bed sheet around her body.
“Get outta here,” I tell her firmly before looking back at the kid. He’s without doubt the guy I’m looking for. He’s got the tattoo on his hand, and guilt all over his face.
“Who the fuck are you?” He looks up and scowls at me, and I waste no time gripping his throat and pinning him to the headboard. His little piece of ass wastes no time either; she gathers up her clothes and scurries outta the room.
“My friends and I wanna have a little talk with you,” I tell him, suddenly realizing that I’m not wearing my cut. This piece of shit will have no idea who I am. Keeping him pinned with one arm, I reach into the back pocket of my jeans, take out my cell, and scroll to Byron’s number.
There’s loud music in the background when he answers, so I guess the club’s gotten a little livelier since I left.
“You better have a good excuse for what you’ve interrupted, Wild Card,” Byron growls at me, and I’m starting to wonder if there’s any pleasing this man.
“Oh, I got a good reason.” I grin darkly at the scared kid in front of me. “Tell Taint to grab a cage and meet me at the motel just off the freeway. I got a little treat for him.” Hanging up the phone, I look the little rat deep into his eyes. “You could save yourself a lotta pain and risk of permanent damage if you tell me now who you're dealin’ for.”
He says nothing, keeps his lips firmly shut as the sweat seeps from his pores.
“I’m new in town, so I don’t know much about our club enforcer, but I do know that, right now, he’s real angry about somethin’. You get to be the person he takes all of that anger out on.” I see the fear in his eyes, even if he is trying desperately to hide it.
“I can…I won’t tell you.” He speaks so quietly I barely hear him.
“You think that, but trust me, you will.” I wink at him, and he starts thrusting his body and kicking his legs. It makes me have to apply a little more pressure around my fingers and choke him. “One of the kids you supplied tonight nearly died. That boy was Sheriff Underwood’s son,” I inform him. “You're just a kid tryin’ to get by on earnin’ a few extra bucks. Are those few bucks really worth endurin’ what's gonna happen to you over the next few hours?” I ask, but he remains tight-lipped, refusing to speak. “That boy could have died tonight. Do you have any idea how dangerous this shit you're selling is?” I yell at him, and he quits fidgeting and stares back at me blankly.
“Maybe he took a bad one; it happens sometimes.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “People come to me cause they want a good time, they know what they’re buying. Ain’t my fault if they can’t handle it.” His answer infuriates me, and I see the stash he has on the bedside table and get an idea.
“A bad one, huh? And how many bad ones d’ya think are in the batch?” Using my free hand, I pick up one of the baggies and bring it to my mouth so I can open it with my teeth.
“What… What are you doing?” he asks, starting to struggle and looking all kindsa nervous.
“Number one rule in marketing is to always know what you're selling.” Tipping the pills onto the nightstand, I take one and hold it up between my thumb and finger in front of him. “I’mma have you try a couple of these out for me.” I give him no time to argue before I force it inside his mouth, holding my hand over his airways so he has no choice but to swallow. He tries to resist, but I’m too strong, and he has to make the choice between suffocating or swallowing.
“That's a good boy. First one down.” I take a glance across at the rest of 'em.
“Man, how many are you gonna give me? I’ll be trippin’”
“That’s the idea, ain’t it? To have a good time?” It’s my turn to shrug now, and I watch his skin turn paler as he realizes what shit he’s in.
“You should thank me; you’ll wanna be trippin’ when my friend gets his hands on you.” I laugh to myself as I pick up another pill.
“You can’t…how can I give you information if I’m buzzed?” He tries climbing up the bed, but I hold him steady.
“Maybe that’s the way to get the information.” I slide my hand up to his jaw and press his cheeks together to purse his mouth, and the pussy shakes his head defiantly. “Please…Please don’t,” he begs, and I laugh at him as I tease the pill against his lips.
“I’ll…I’ll…I’ll tell you.” He swallows thickly, and I laugh at how easy he was to break as I place the pill back down and wait to hear what he’s gotta say.
“The guy I answer to is called Randall; he lives in one of those bungalows on Church Avenue. He’s…He’s not from around here, and he’s dangerous. No one fucks with him.”
“We’ll see.” I release the kid now he’s served his purpose, standing up and tucking his stash into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Hey, where you taking that? I need everything accounted for, or Randall will–”
“You don’t need to worry about Randall no more, kid.” I start moving toward the door so I can report back to Byron, and when I see one of the club's cages turn into the parking lot, I’m impressed at how quickly they responded. Taint’s gonna be pissed that he doesn’t get to fuck up the kid’s day himself, but this sorry son of a bitch made it too fuckin’ easy. I hear the cage pull up outside with a screech, and when I see Taint get out and start charging across the parking lot toward me, he’s already breathing like a bull.
“Where’s he at?” he asks.
“Sorry to break it to ya, but he already ratted.” I see the frustration on Taint's face when he hears me. “I got a name and a location. I’m taking it to Prez now.”
“You interrogated him?” Taint questions me, looking ready to carve my throat out.
“Didn’t have to, I just threatened to force those pills he’s been selling down his throat.”
“Pussy.” He snarls as he looks through the door at the kid, who's still lying out on the bed like he’s tied to it. Hell, if I were him, I’d be trying my best to run.
“Still got a lesson to learn on the rules in our town.” Taint clicks his knuckles before heading inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and I leave him to teach it, heading back toward the reception and taking a few fifties out my wallet.
“For the damage,” I tell the guy, placing them on the counter. “And I’d turn that TV up a little louder, there's gonna be noises coming from room four.”
FOURTEEN
Ruby
Ifinish filling Earl in on what happened when he gets back to the bar, and after closing the place up for him, I decide to take a nightcap and wait up a little longer in the hope of seeing Ash. I shouldn’t torture myself; I should start learning to accept what my fate is. But every time I see that guy, I get a feeling that I’m fast becoming addicted to. I can’t stand thinking about the things I’ll have to do with Brett once we’re married. Yet, when I think about doing those things with Ash, everything changes. My skin goes all tingly, and something warm and exciting collects in the pit of my stomach. I can’t help imagining his hands on me, gripping just that little too tight, while his tongue invades my mouth.
“Shit.” I laugh at myself for being so pathetic. It’s been a long day, and I really need to go to bed and try to get some sleep.
Knocking back my drink, I stop staring at the door, willing Ash to come through it and steadily start making my way up the stairs to my room.
My living space may be very basic, but it feels like home. I never expected to be staying here as long as I have, but I’m comfortable. It’s convenient for work, and Earl is good to me. I’d much rather be here being myself than playing happy families with Brett. It doesn’t matter how beautiful the home he created for us is. I already know I’ll never be happy there.
I still feel much too young to settle down. I want to experience more of that reckless freedom I felt when I was riding with Ash earlier today.
I swap my clothes for my PJs, then cleanse my skin and moisturize just like Momma always did before she went to bed. I allow myself a few seconds to wonder what she’d think of all that's happening to me. She’d undoubtedly feel guilt; she’d blame herself, but if I know her, she’d be telling me to fight.
I’ve thought so many times about leaving town, moving somewhere new, and starting a fresh, new life, but I like the people here too much. Mom loved this little town and the people in it. The years we spent here, she was happy. I have friends here now, people who care about me, and something tells me that even if I did leave, Brett and Dad would find me.
I wish I knew why it was me that Brett had to involve in his grand plans for the future. He does so well at reminding me that I’m just an average girl, yet he’s never taken the time to explain why this average girl is so pivotal to his plans and has to have the rest of her life ruined.
People who have money, like the Porters do, tend to believe that life revolves around it, but I see things differently. Everything I own and treasure is in this room, and nothing of that is worth a cent. Brett would be better matched with someone like Katie Trigg. Her family is rich. Her daddy’s a judge, and she’s much better at putting on a show for people than I am. Not to mention the fact that she’s way prettier.
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, wasting the time I should spend sleeping by wishing things could be different. I hated how disappointed in me Ash looked earlier tonight. I’ve felt the guilt of it ever since I left to go to Brett’s house. It’s strange that a stranger can be so invested in me, but I can’t help liking it. I like how it feels to have him care for me. Although me caring for him in return seems to have its disadvantages. Him rushing off the way he did when I got back has made me worried. Every time I think about the danger he could be in, I get a strange sense of panic in my chest that I can’t shake off.
I eventually hear movement on the stairs, followed by a creak of the landing floor, and when I see the shadow of his footprints through the tiny gap at the bottom of the door, I smile when they pause outside my room. That excitement stirs up inside me again, and although I really shouldn’t, I silently pray for him to knock at my door. I want him to come inside to say goodnight, to tell me what happened tonight, even if it’s something bad. I want him to hold me in his arms the same way he did when I thought it was Earl in that damn ambulance.
I swear I don’t breathe while I wait for him to make his next move, and when the floor creaks again and he moves on, all that excitement turns into a heavy disappointment.
“This guy’s gonna drive me crazy,” I whisper to myself and throw my head back into the pillow. Anticipation has caused the space between my legs to start throbbing with its own pulse. There's a desperate ache that I’ve never felt before, and I’m wondering how it’s possible to crave something I’ve never had. It’s as frustrating as it is puzzling, and I claw at my hair while trying to come up with a way to sustain it.
I could try touching myself, maybe imagine that my hand belongs to him. Or I could just get up, cross the landing, and go to him…Check that he’s okay. If he was doing club work, there's every chance he could have been injured, and I do owe him a favour since he was there for me last night.
I slowly creep out of bed and start making my way toward the door. I’ve got plenty of footsteps left between here and his room to convince myself that this is a terrible idea, yet every step I take closer convinces me that it’s not. I make it out onto the landing, and when I see light creeping out from under his door, I quickly tap it with my knuckles before any sense takes over.
“Who is it?” His rough voice comes from the other side, and even that makes me go all kinds of giddy.
“It’s just me…Ruby,” I answer, chewing on my thumb and considering running back to my room. He’s going to think I’m pathetic for going back to Brett, and I have no defense for it, none that I can tell him about, anyway. He’s going to have questions. Questions I can’t give him the answer to and suddenly I want to turn and run.
