Best of 2017

CHAPTER NINE

I FELT like a lifetime had passed since I’d spoken with Cameron, told him my troubles…asked him for help. But in reality it had only been a few days.

Hours, seconds, minutes, of me wondering what would happen, when it would take place. Would he scare Ricky, use his influence, whatever that might be, and make him leave me alone? Would he kill him?

I hadn’t heard anything from him regarding it, and although Ricky hadn’t bothered me, I felt someone watching. I swore a car followed me, that same dark SUV that I’d seen when I went to find Marshall. Maybe it was just my nerves, my paranoia slamming into me, claiming me, and dragging me under. But even if it was, I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t push it away or bury it, no matter how much I wanted to.

You should just leave and take your chances.

Yeah, that was easier said than done. I had no money—none that I dared to use, anyway. And even if I did leave, where would I go? Who would I run to? And I had a feeling Ricky would just find me. Because I hadn’t heard anything from Cameron either, I couldn’t guarantee that he’d still help me. But I didn’t think he forgot about the agreement.

I knew he didn’t.

Sure, he wanted my body as payment, but he’d given me no time frame, hadn’t even asked for details about what I was going through with Ricky. All he knew was the generic situation I’d explained.

But Cameron didn’t seem like the type of man to go against what he said.

And that scares the shit out of me.

I felt my eyelids grow heavy, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. I was exhausted, but my nerves were shot, the worry of life, of the situation I was in wearing me down so much I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning, and there was no life raft, no one who would pull me out of the deep end and save my life.

I shifted, rolled over onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. The stain to the right of me was from a leak in the above apartment, the brown circle spread wide. I stared at it, tracing the edges of it with my gaze. The place was liable to cave on me at any moment, just snuff my life out as if it meant nothing.

And maybe it didn’t. Maybe in the end it was just me trying to pretend I could survive.

I exhaled, not wanting my thoughts to go down that dark path.

I was Cameron’s. He’d help me, get me out of the situation with Ricky, but the cost, the payment I was giving to him would be so much more. It would suck me dry, corrupt my very soul. I closed my eyes, but I knew sleep wouldn’t come. My mind was moving too fast, my thoughts too consuming.

I felt myself relax further on the shitty bed I was on, the mattress probably having seen more ass, more disgust than I cared to think about.

And then I heard a soft sound come from the living room. It was a click, this little tick of a noise that seemed so loud, so menacing.

I sat up, reaching down beside the bed without taking my eyes off my bedroom door. It was cracked open, and the thought that maybe I should have shut it completely played through my mind. But it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was no lock on my bedroom door, and if someone wanted in, they’d just have to slam their shoulder into it for the weak old-ass door to break open.

I felt the handle of the bat slide along my hand, and I curled my fingers around it. Moving slowly, trying to be silent, I lifted the bat up. I pushed the blanket off me, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and when the mattress creaked, I grimaced. My heart seemed to still, my breathing stopped, and I stared at the door. I expected someone to come bursting in at that moment, but the silence stretched on. I wasn’t a fool to think I had imagined the sound, not in this apartment building, not in the situation I was in with Ricky.

I shifted on the bed another inch, hearing that damn mattress creak again. I was frozen, my mouth tight, dry. And then the bedroom door swung open, someone kicking it in so hard it slammed against the wall, the doorknob crushing the plaster. I screamed out of instinct and fell to my knees. I had the baseball bat in my hand still, the wood feeling warm under in my hold. I scrambled to get up, because being in this submissive position wouldn’t be good for me, would only make me more of a victim than I’d already be.

But someone grabbed hold of my hair and yanked me up. The bat was wrenched from my hold, and I saw scuffed-up boots in my vision. My head was cocked back, tears now in my eyes, the pain twisting me up.

“Brad, no need to scuff up the merchandise.”

The man tossed me to the center of the room, and I landed hard on my hands and knees. I tried to get up, but a hand on my shoulder kept me down. I turned and stared into the eyes of a man I’d hoped to never see again.

Ricky.

“I realize I’m early in collecting payment, but I decided I’d get more bang for my buck if the payment was you.” He grinned, a depraved sight, a smile that told me what he’d use me for would ruin me, would break me.

But I’ll still be alive, suffering, wishing for death because my life will be nothing more than a vessel for another’s pleasure.

“I need more time,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference, knowing the deal was for Cameron to handle this. But I grasped on to anything, something.

“Time isn’t what I’m good at giving, baby.” He took a step closer, and I held my breath, watching him. “And let’s be honest.” He cocked his head to the side. “You weren’t going to repay me. You couldn’t. The moment you came into my place of business you thought I’d let you off the hook.” He grinned again. “You knew”—he got down on his haunches.—“the moment that money touched your fingers that your body would be used in ways you never knew possible. Deep down there was no doubt that you’d be fucked so hard the only thing you’d know for certain was that you were crying.” He stood again, looked around my apartment, and tsked. “What a fucking shithole. I’ll be doing you a favor.”

My hands were shaking, my thoughts whirling as I tried to think of how to get out of this. I knew if I just accepted this, it would be over. I’d be over. When Ricky crouched in front of me and went to reach for my face, I curled my hand into a fist and lashed out. I slammed my knuckles into his face, and when he reeled back, I stood and darted for the door. But the guy he’d brought with him was on me before I reached the exit. He tossed me back, my head cracking back on the floor.

“You’re a spunky bitch, I’ll give you that,” Ricky said.

I pushed myself up as best I could, the pain in my skull pounding through my entire frame.

Ricky rubbed his jaw, the grin on his face telling me he liked that I’d hit him…that he’d get me back soon enough.

“I got some guys that will pay a lot of money for you to fight them.”

Chills raced up my spine.

He reached for me again, but just then the front door opened. There was no force behind it, no wood splintering forward, violence promised. No, someone who didn’t need a show, who didn’t need to let anyone know the menace they held, did this. I felt it as the cold air rushed into the apartment and the two men surrounding me turned.

And there stood Cameron with the man who I assumed was his muscle standing beside him.

Before anyone could move, Damien lifted his arm and fired off a shot that had the guy Ricky brought falling to the ground. The gunshot was quiet, the silencer making the violence almost seem gentle.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. If Cameron hadn’t shown up when he did—again—I knew I would have been hauled away and used for strange men’s sexual gratification.

But him being here at the ri

ght time couldn’t have been a coincidence. Had he been watching me? Had he been waiting until this moment to step up, to claim what I’d offered by ending my problem?

“How did you know?” I found myself saying, knowing I should have kept my mouth shut, but the words tumbled out of me on their own like they needed an escape, too.

He didn’t show any emotion as he stared at me. He didn’t answer. I was his property, so surely he’d keep an eye on me.

Either way I couldn’t feel anything but this bone-searing relief, because what Ricky had planned would have made death seem like a gift.

Damien moved close to Ricky, pressed the gun to his forehead, but didn’t pull the trigger. “On your knees,” was all he said.

I didn’t know if I expected Ricky to fight back, but it was clear he was at least smart enough—or maybe just too terrified—to know these men were not to be fucked with.

He went right to his knees.

Cameron walked over to Ricky, the air suddenly hot, the feeling of suffocating intense. Cameron gave a nod, and Damien sheathed his gun right before he started wailing on Ricky. Punch after punch landed on Ricky, his face becoming bloody, swollen, like freshly tenderized meat.

I gasped.

“That’s enough, Damien” Cameron said after what seemed like hours.

Although I had no doubt Cameron could hold his own, could gift anyone with his violence, he used Damien to extract that, to be his fists, his rage.

Damien hauled up Ricky so he was on his knees again, the man wobbling, clearly having a hard time keeping upright. The sounds that came from him were gurgled, wet…blood-filled.

I glanced between Cameron and Damien—his muscle. His killer. Damien looked stoic, aloof, like he didn’t give a shit what was happening. He had just beat the shit out of Ricky like this was an everyday occurrence.

You stupid girl. It is. These men are dangerous, far more dangerous than what you were up against. You’ll become ruined, broken, a shell of what you were or ever could be.

And I’d signed up for this, all but begged Cameron to help me. You agreed to do anything, everything.