Dirty (RAW Family 2)

A humorless laugh escaped me. “Who told you that? Them?”

The boy’s attitude toward me softened a little. “And I thought I was crazy.”

“I’m not crazy. I’m determined.” I made a vow to that boy. “We’ll have it all. Money. Women. Power.”

The boy’s lip twitched. He thought I was out of my mind. “Oh, yeah? How are we gonna do that?”

With determination, I stated, “However the fuck we have to. You might even get to kill a few guys.” He must have heard the truth in my tone, because his eyes snapped up, his hard gaze meeting mine strength-to-strength. “You’re either with me, or you’re against me.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, running a hand through his messy hair. When I didn’t respond in kind, he lost his laughter, blinking at me with shrewd eyes.

A full minute passed before he answered, “I’m with you.”

I smiled then. “What’s your name?”

“Antonio Falco.”

A snort escaped me. Of course it was. “I’m calling you Tony.” I moved to exit his cell, turning to face him at the open doorway. “I’m Julius. Nice to have you on board, brother.”

Later that day, the good news reached me. My sister had survived. She was being moved to the psychiatric health ward, but she was going to live.

This day just got better and better.

The boys of juvie didn’t know what hit them. Tony Falco had a fight in him that even I couldn’t tame, not that I wanted to. With my encouragement, he let loose, targeting the most feared of boys and tearing them to shreds.

I was the brains. He was the brawn.

Within a fortnight, the boys held their heads lowered submissively when they walked past us in the quad, hoping to avoid detection. We had high hopes for ourselves. Who would’ve thought that a mere ten years later, grown men would cower in our presence.

We were a force to be reckoned with. As I had promised my friend, my brother, we watched the world burn, and the stench of burning flesh did nothing to sate our hunger for power.

We wanted more. Needed more.

I lost my brother because of a confidence I had instilled in him. Despite what I had told him, we were not invincible. He put his faith in me, and I’d let him down.

Losing Antonio “Twitch” Falco left a gaping hole inside me.

I wish I had done things differently.

But that was then, and this is now. I am a different person from the cocky bastard I was five years ago. These days, I’m very much a realist. I won’t be blowing smoke up anyone’s ass, not ever again.

And as I make my way up the stairs of my home and stride down the hall to the open bedroom, I stare down at the still form on the bed.

My lip curls in disgust.

I have always been a good judge of character.

How did I get it wrong with this woman? I silently worry that my attraction to her may have blurred the lines.

My feet move of their own accord and my knee nudges the bed, jolting her into awareness.

Her swollen eyes blink away sleep, and she stares up at me with those big eyes, her long lashes fluttering lightly.

She’s so goddamn beautiful.

And that just makes me angrier.

“Get up,” I order, moving back toward the door.

But she doesn’t follow.

Seeing her sleep addled, with her full pretty mouth parted in surprise as she eyes me cautiously, causes me to rage inside. I want to kiss those sweet pink lips punishingly until they bleed.

My cock jerks at the thought of a willing Alejandra in my bed.

Damn it all to hell.

My jaw tenses and I stalk back to the bed, bending at the waist and speaking in expert calm. “Unless you want me to drag you down the stairs by your hair, kicking and screaming, you’ll move your little ass, Alejandra. You hear me?”

I expect a fight. I expect tears and yelling.

What I get instead is her fearful eyes turning dead, void of emotion, her head lowered in obedience and her robotic movement off the bed toward the door. She limps the entire way down the stairs, and although I want to help her, I take this time to watch her instead. Some part of me wants her to hurt. At the bottom of the stairs, I steer her right, toward the open doorway to my suite.

She limps toward the center of the room, staring at the imposing four-poster bed, and I lock the door behind us, placing the key in my pants pocket.

With my back to her, I begin to undress, undoing the buttons on my shirt, and tell her how this is going to go down. “Your life is in my hands. I decide whether you live or die. You do not take that decision away from me by choosing to take your own life.” Shrugging my shirt off, I slip off my shoes and go on, “I don’t know what I plan to do with you right now, and seeing as I can’t trust you, you will be in either my or Ling’s presence every second of every day. I don’t trust Ling not to kill you, so you’ll sleep with me.” I move toward her. “Hold out your hands.”

Head lowered, she obeys without a word.

I don’t want that to turn me on.

Why does that turn me on?

I cuff her then place her palms together, using electrical tape to bind them. Taking her by the upper arm, I all but drag her to the bed and push her down on the left side. I use another set of handcuffs to link her to the headboard, testing the bond by pulling on it myself. Satisfied that she won’t be getting away, I look down at her, my mouth set in a thin line. “Go to sleep. And don’t do anything stupid. That wouldn’t end well for you.”

She doesn’t make a sound, and I undress in peace and quiet, thinking about what the hell I’m meant to do now.

Goddamn it. I never intended on being a babysitter, nor her bodyguard.

Dressed only in my white sleep pants, I move to the right side of the bed, lie down and then reach up to switch off the light, trying hard not to

think about the close distance between us. With her cuffed to the bed, it wouldn’t take much to pull down her thin black pants and get between her soft thighs. She wouldn’t be able to fight. Well, she would, but no one would hear her protest.

She’d be too small to take me at first, but I’d make it good for her. I’d get her ready, take my time with her, touch her till she was nice and wet. Make her come on my tongue.

Fuck, I love eating pussy, and in my mind, Alejandra tastes like a woman should. My mouth waters as I squeeze my eyes closed. My heart begins to race as arousal shakes me.

Hard as a rock, I reach down to adjust myself, gripping myself tight. I let out a huff of pleasure as my hand circles my cock, and swallow hard. My touch lingers unnecessarily long, until finally, I remove it on an exhale.

Minutes pass, and we lie in complete silence until her soft voice sounds in the darkness. “And if I run?”

My arousal flees me. My dick softens immediately, and I feel ill at my body’s reaction to her. I think about my response for a long moment before I turn on my side, my back to her, and let her have honesty in its purest form. “Pray to God you can outrun my bullet.”

Motherfuckers cuff me.

I’m taken into a white, sterile room with four flimsy chairs, one of which hurts my ass to sit on. It takes all my strength, but I don’t complain. Not a word.

Only when the chief invites two other stiff-looking cocks in, who are introduced to me as a detective and a sergeant, do my haunches begin to rise. When the chief turns to Casper Quaid and mutters, “That’ll be all, Officer Quaid,” I snap my gaze up to his.

His face blanches, and he lets out a short laugh. “Chief, I brought him in—”

The chief nods. “You did. Good job.” He pins Quaid with a hard stare. “We’ll take it from here.”

Casper Quaid just got punked. And I don’t know why I care that he did.

The guy is no one to me. But from the moment I met the man, he’s been nothing but respectful to a guy who doesn’t deserve respect. He doesn’t come across as a bad guy.

Casper knows he’s lost the fight and moves to exit the small room. My eyes follow him as he leaves, his chin dipped, eyes hard. Without Quaid on my side, I feel a steady hum in the room around me. My defenses rise. The animal inside of me is begging for a fight.