Den of Vipers, page 20
The crowd starts cheering again then, but they make sure to give me space. It’s strange, them being afraid of me when Garrett is in the room. But I keep the gun close in case anyone tries anything else. You can never be too careful in the underbelly of the city, and that’s exactly where I am. I might be with the Vipers, but I refuse to sit here looking pretty while someone attacks me. I can handle myself, and I will kill if I need to.
I go back to watching Garrett fight, but somewhere in the crowd, I hear a male scream that makes me smile. I’m betting Diesel has found the man. What a shame. Eventually, the crowd relaxes around me, their attention back on Garrett, who’s kicking fucking ass. It’s hot as hell to watch, and I have to clench my thighs together, my lip caught between my teeth as I watch him. No wonder they call him Mad Dog. The crowd’s whispers drift to me. I hear some saying that I’m the Vipers’ girl and not to mess with me unless they want to turn up dead, which makes me laugh.
I guess they aren’t wrong.
I hear other rumours, spoken out of jealousy and fear, the words murmured as they glance back at me, knowing I’m with the Vipers. I try to listen, but after I hear a few snippets of conversation about a disembowelled man and a massacre, I focus on the fight again. Garrett is a machine. Fucking art in motion. His body is a giant weapon, each hit strategically placed and filled with such power that I can see it. His style is raw and wild, his anger leaking out.
It takes him over completely until he barely sees his opponent, he just fights. Getting all that aggression out. They have to hold him back twice as they switch his challengers, but he wins each fight, and when he’s done, he’s sweating. His chest is heaving, his hands are covered in blood, and his face is dark. He ignores the applause and dramatics, instead leaping from the ring and heading over to me. He plucks his bag from the ground.
“Diesel?” he snaps, his face dripping sweat which I have the strangest urge to lick.
“He was listening in,” I offer, just as the man in question appears next to us.
“Let’s go.” He nods, and Garrett storms away. The crowd parts for him as I hop down. Diesel drapes his arm around me as we follow the angry man. Everyone watches us in fear and respect, and I tilt my chin higher at that.
Diesel drives home, and Garrett ignores us the entire way, his head turned as he glares out of the window. When we get back, he prowls through the apartment and to his room, slamming the door behind him. Diesel slips away as well, and I’m caught in the hallway, unsure what to do.
For some reason, I follow Garrett, feeling like he needs me. I open his door and slip through to see him standing there, his body taut and angry, his feet bare. He whirls and glares at me. “What?”
“Are you okay? Want me to look at your hands?” I offer sweetly, softly, like you would approach a wild animal.
“Fuck off,” he snarls and turns away again, as if he can’t bear to look at me.
So I step into the room and slam the door. He wants a fight, then fine. “No, want to talk about it?”
“About what?” he snaps, his built shoulders tensing and drawing up, preparing to argue.
“The thing eating you up?” I press, leaning back against the wall.
He spins and rushes me, slamming me into the wall. His arms land on either side of me, caging me in as he leans closer and glares at me. “I told you to fuck off!” he roars in my face.
But his eyes are lost, wild, searching, and hurting. He’s heartbroken. “Let me help,” I whisper.
His eyes close for a moment. “You can’t, no one can. I hate that you saw me like that…” He trails off. With a self-disgusted snarl, he rips away from me, his hands running through his hair as he starts to pace.
That’s what he cares about? That I saw him lose control? Oh, my damaged Viper. “I enjoyed it. Watching you beat the shit out of those people? It was hot,” I admit, unashamed that I was turned on as I observed him.
He ignores me, so I carry on, trying to pull him out of his self-hatred. “Really, it was. All that power in your body, it’s sexy as hell. The way they look at you, the way they fear you…you’re untouchable.”
He stops, his back to me, chest heaving.
“I want you,” I state, taking a shot.
He shudders, so I step around him, my eyes meeting his, knowing I’ll have to take the first step with him.
“I’m wet from watching you.”
“Get out before I kill you,” he warns, but there is desperation in his voice, he doesn’t want me to leave.
He doesn’t mean it, I can see it in his face, in his eyes. He wants me to stay, he wants me to fight this for him, with him. Help me. I see it written across his features. I wonder if no one else has ever looked under all those layers of anger to the scared, damaged man crying out for help underneath.
His fights, his anger, all a way to protect himself.
He needs someone to push him, to rip him out of it, but it might just kill them to do so…then why am I willing to try?
He’s my captor. My enemy. But I can’t walk away from him.
“Nah, I don’t think I will. You want this too, want me. So why not just give in?” I grin.
“What makes you think I want you when I can’t even stand to look at you? When I hate you? Hmm? Tell me, baby, what makes you think you’re so fucking special that I would fuck you? Or let you touch me?” he grinds out.
I revel in his anger, refusing to be intimidated and back away like everyone else. He’s lashing out due to fear, due to anger. I know that, ’cause I do it myself. “Because you’re hard, because you watch me when you think I don’t notice, because you imagine fucking me, even if you hate it.” I lay the challenge down, and he doesn’t disappoint as I reach out to touch him.
With a snarl, he grabs my wandering hands before they can touch his chest and wrenches them behind my back, forcing me upright, back bowed as he leans down. Hatred and need gleams in his eyes. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me, or I will kill you. You want me? You’re so desperate for cock that Ryder and Kenzo ain’t enough? Fine.” He drags me over to the shower stall in the bathroom.
With one rough, scarred, bleeding hand, he rips off my top and shorts and tosses them away, his eyes running across my skin in disgust before he flicks on the water. He kneels down, still holding me, and grabs my boots, throwing them behind him before getting back to his feet, his hand tightening on my wrist so it hurts. Pushing me down to my knees, he ties my shirt around my hands at the base of my spine so I can’t touch him. I’m unbalanced, kneeling on my heels before him as he sheds his shorts, his hard, naked body before me. Every inch is stacked with muscle. His body is deadly, a weapon he uses every day. His chest isn’t ruined like he thinks, it’s a masterpiece of pain and suffering. The rest of him is so stunning, I can barely breathe. His cock is hard, long, and thick, and leaking and pointing right at me. Water rushes across me, plastering my hair to my head, cooling my overheated body.
I don’t care. He blocks the spray and grabs my head, forcing my mouth open before slamming his cock into it with no warning. It’s not polite, not that I would expect that from him. It’s cruel, a punishment for me and one for himself for wanting me.
I hold on as best as I can, just a puppet for him to use for his desire, like the outlet his fighting provides for his anger. He channels it all into me, his cock so hard and thick and long, he hits the back of my throat. I have no choice but to breathe through my nose as I roll my eyes up to his. He meets my gaze with a groan, his hips stuttering before he slams back into my mouth. Harder than before.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that. Like you want this,” he snaps, but I can’t help it. I do. Each hard stroke of his cock in my mouth has me wiggling on the cold tile, my pussy dripping.
He takes what he wants, it’s rough and hard. My lips bleed from it, his movements filled with hate and disgust…and lust. He pounds into my mouth, uncaring if he hurts me, and when his thighs clench, his abs rolling, he roars his release, shooting it down my throat. With a disgusted snarl he pushes me away, slipping from my mouth. Licking my damaged lips, I watch as he turns and, without a word, strides from the shower. His ass flexes as he pushes out of the room, the door almost ripping from the hinges in his rush to escape me.
He leaves me there, wet and bound, with tears tracing down my face and blood and cum spilling from my lips, my own wetness dripping between my thighs.
That’s how Diesel finds me. He takes one look and whistles. Flicking off the water, he crouches down, his thumb rubbing at my aching lips, unconcerned about the cum. “Keep pushing, Little Bird. You’re the only one who can get through to him, and if you don’t, we might lose him forever.” He undoes my bindings, gently lifts me into his arms, and cleans me off before taking me back to my room and tucking me in.
It’s soft and sweet, and brings tears to my eyes. This crazy bastard is growing on me. Who would have thought, and what did he mean about Garrett?
I know he hates women. It’s easy to see somewhere in his past, one hurt him. Badly. Did she just turn down his proposal? Is that what the ring was? No, it’s something worse, I can feel it. But I doubt he will tell me. It’s clear, though, Garrett is trying to hold himself back from me, but like two crashing cars, we’re drawn to each other.
Who will make it out alive?
Chapter Twenty-Six
KENZO
“Bollocks,” I mutter, as we pull up outside the spa. “I forgot to say goodbye to Rox.”
Ryder snorts but slips from the vehicle, and so do the guards we brought. I hop out and lean across the roof of the sports car, waiting for the SUV to arrive with the guards. “What? I heard you two last night, brother.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
His lips curl into a satisfied smirk, even as he rests his arms across the car like me. “So? Unlike you, baby brother, I can separate sex and feelings.”
“Uh-huh, so then why did you smack Garrett this morning for being too loud and almost waking her?” I taunt.
He rolls his eyes but loses the smirk. “She needed to sleep. I couldn’t be dealing with her brattiness.”
“Sure.” I grin as I round the car, and we head towards the spa. “Then why did you tuck her in and kiss her goodbye when you thought no one was watching?”
He freezes, his head swivelling to glare at me. “What have I told you about spying on me?”
Laughing, I clap him on the back. “Admit it, Ry. You like her too. It’s cool, I don’t mind sharing, but I’m not crossing swords with you.”
He sighs and puts his hand on the door. “Can we please stay focused on why we are here?”
“Right, threats, paying the enemies. I got it.” I nod, and he jerks the door open, the relaxing music of the spa drifting to us as we step inside with our guards behind us. Ryder refused to leave Tony and Sam behind, in fact, he made sure they were with us. And this idiot still thinks he doesn’t like her.
“We should get her some girlie shit from here to make her feel more at home,” I suggest as I look around. A woman in a dress sits in the waiting room, rearranging her tits to show them off, and flashes a grin at me. I wink and lean closer. “Sorry, I’m taken, and so is he.”
She slumps but grins and looks back down at her magazine. Whistling, I glance over to see Ryder glaring at me. “We’re taken?” he repeats.
“Sure are! You think Rox wouldn’t kill any poor girl you brought back to hurt her? If you haven’t noticed, Ry, she’s as nuts as we are.”
He shakes his head, muttering under his breath about idiot brothers and annoying women as he strides over to the desk and raps his knuckles on the curved wood. “I need to speak to Sandra. Now,” he demands, face closed and angry.
The woman behind the desk shrinks, her face paling. “I-I’m sorry, sir, Sandra is busy—”
“Take a break, Izzy,” Sandra calls, as she steps from the office behind the receptionist. She’s a big girl, and I mean tall. Taller than Ryder almost. Her curvy body is encased in a tight dress and heels. Her greying hair is pulled back in a taut bun, showing off her face, which is artificially lifted. Her lips are pink and way too plump to be natural. When she sees us, her eyes narrow.
She’s a scary woman, enough so to make my balls shrivel, but that’s why we liked her.
“Gentlemen, what a surprise. Please come through and stop harassing my staff,” she snaps before turning and, with the clicking of her heels, striding into her office.
Leaning closer to Ryder, I smile and murmur, “I like women, but that one is fucking scary. Still not as scary as Rox though. Oh, I hid her bat in the weapons room.”
He ignores me and pushes behind the desk, following her into the office. I nod to Tony, who stops at the front door. Looking around at the patrons, I grin and announce, “I’m afraid the spa is closed, please leave.”
The women and men waiting start to object, so I flash my gun with a happy smile, and they soon rush for the door. Tony slams it behind them and flips the lock. Sam trails after me and stands at the office door, but I pause and let my face darken for a moment as I look between them without Ryder here. “I may not have reacted, Ryder may not have, but come close to our woman again, and it will be the last thing you do,” I warn, and I watch Sam gulp as they both nod. Then, with a happy smile back in place, I pat his chest, slip in, and shut the door behind me. “Sorry about that, it seems everyone left,” I comment with wide, innocent eyes as I roll my dice across my knuckles, leaning back against the wall.
Sandra glares at me, her legs crossed in her office chair, and her hands tight across her stomach as she waits for Ryder to speak. He sits on the sofa across from her, playing on his phone and making her sweat. Literally. I watch as actual sweat drips down her face and she shifts nervously.
She knows what she did, and now she’s wondering if she will make it out of here alive.
Ryder keeps her waiting, and I pull out my own phone and shoot a message to Garrett to check on Rox. He sends me back a picture of her curled up on the sofa asleep next to him. His face is locked in a scowl in the picture, which makes me laugh. I forward it to Ryder whose lips turn up in a smirk before he pockets the device.
He looks up at Sandra and sighs loudly. “We haven’t heard from you in a while, Sandra, which is surprising, seeing as though we own the land you are built on…so, tell me. If you aren’t paying us back, where is your money going, hmm? We already know it’s leaving your account.”
She balks at that, probably not realising we’re more than brawn. “I-I had some bills to pay and got behind,” she replies, tilting her chin back, but her eyes dart around nervously.
“Don’t lie to me, Sandra. I have been kind to you, and it would be a shame for me to have to stop,” Ryder growls, voice cold and deadly. “You came to me with an offer, not the other way around. You needed our help, we lent you the money so you could run this place…now you’re trying to break your end of the deal? Darling, it doesn’t work like that.”
“I’m sick of paying,” she blurts before swallowing. “I-I lose half my profit to you.”
“We offer less repayment interest than banks, or did you forget that? Without us, there would be no spa,” Ryder drawls. “I could, of course, revert my loan, buy this place, fire all your staff, and tear it down…or I could do even worse. How’s your husband, Sandra?”
“Leave Mike out of this,” she almost yells, making me chuckle.
“Wish we could, darling, but Mike put himself into this. Did you know he likes to gamble?” I remark conversationally, and she looks at me in confusion. “Now don’t get me wrong, it was only every now and again until I…showed him the addictive side of the city. I tried to help him.” Sighing, I shake my head. “It seems he was tired of being emasculated at home. He got drunk and told everyone.”
“You’re lying,” she snaps, so I load up the video from one of my clubs. I only show her a split second of it before pocketing it again. “So what?” she says, but I can see the hurt in her eyes.
“So it drove him to addiction, and now he owes some bad people money. If he’d come to me, I could have helped him out. But he didn’t.” I put my hands out in a fake placating gesture, an unkind smile tugging at my lips.
“Is-is he okay?” she asks, looking between us.
“He could be, it all depends on your choice, Sandra. I can bail him out, but of course that money would go on top of what you already owe us, or I can leave him in their hands. Now, they won’t kill him for the first offence, no, just break his kneecaps. But, unfortunately, as a builder, they seem rather important, don’t they?” I laugh, but it’s not a nice sound, and she shivers from it.
“You fucking evil snakes,” she hisses, as tears fall from her eyes, which she tries to swipe away, only smearing her makeup instead.
“No, darling, not evil, just businessmen. We gave you money, a job, we got you off the streets. We kept an eye on your husband, who would be dead now without us. Yes, we like money and we profit from our business deals…but everything is not black and white. It’s filled with greys, and we just happen to run the grey area.”
She turns around and slams open her drawer, scribbling a check before throwing it at Ryder. He pockets it. It’s not about the money, after all, but the fucking cheek of her not repaying us after everything we did for her. The bank would have taken her spa by now. “Thanks, madame.” I wink, reminding her exactly where we found her. Working in one of the Triad’s clubs years ago.
She averts her gaze, sniffling hard. “I just wanted a different life,” she whispers quietly, so low we aren’t meant to hear.
“We know, that’s why we helped you in exchange for all that information. Your debt is almost paid, Sandra, so keep your head down, and this place will be all yours before long,” I offer nicely. Ryder rolls his eyes at me before getting to his feet.
“Do not make us come back, Sandra.”
