Convict: A Bad Boy Romance (44 page)

A
lex heads
out the door and I wonder what his fucking
problem
is.

You gave him what he wanted
, I think.
And now he’s done
.

Fine. I don’t give a shit if he likes me or not, I just want to get out of his house in the desert and back to my
life.

You know, the life where I’m not a hostage?

I knot the sheet around myself and make coffee, shuffling around the kitchen with my mummy feet. Walking still hurts, but it hurts a
lot
less than yesterday, and I feel optimistic for the first time since Friday night.

I might get out of this okay
, I think.

When the coffee’s done, I take a mug and sit on the couch. I look at the piles of VHS tapes, but I’m so sick of watching movies that I might puke if I put one on.

I consider
Sorority Sluts
, though. Maybe if that were playing when Alex came back I could get him in the mood one more time...

His SUV pulls up outside, and I glance at the tapes.

Then I hear voices. Two of them.

Before I can stand, the door opens, and two guys in white t-shirts and jeans come through. They’re both nondescript and short, one bald, both covered in ugly, fading tattoos.

The bald one looks at me and grins. Something flashes as he raises his hand, and he points a gun at me.

They’re
both
holding guns. Both pointing at me.

“
You
must be Tessa,” the bald guy says, gesturing at me with the gun.

Reflexively I cover my face with my hands, and I slosh coffee all over myself. I barely notice that it burns. I have no idea who these guys are or how they know who I am — and where’s Alex?

I’ve been afraid of the wrong thing this whole time.

“I see the Scorpion’s been
here
,” the other guy says, and he grabs his crotch.

They both laugh, and I look at them through my fingers. I’m shaking, but I manage to put my now-empty coffee mug down on the table and swallow.

“Who are you?” I ask. My voice comes out terrified and high-pitched.

“Your boyfriend’s associates,” the non-bald one says. He’s got three dots tattooed on his face, right under his eye.

“Alex?” I ask.

They just laugh again.

“He’s got a thing about women,” Face Tattoo says.

“He
likes
‘em too much,” Baldy says. “I don’t think he ever met a pussy he didn’t get balls deep in.”

“Especially your sister,” Face Tattoo says.

“Man, leave my sister outta this, she knows better than that,” Baldy says.

“She sure knows
something.
”

“Just shut up, okay? We’re at work, man.”

My whole body is shaking now. I can feel my lips and fingers go numb.

“Manny ain’t expecting us back for a while,” Face Tattoo says. “We could have some fun.”

Now my ears are ringing, and I feel like I’ve got vertigo.

“Hey, princess,” he says. “You show us a good enough time, and we’ll give you a head start. How’s that?”

T
he other SUV
is already outside the house when I get there, and I skid to a stop. Before I get out I unlock the glove box and grab the gun. It’s loaded. I jump out and jam it in the back of my tuxedo pants.

Just leave,
I think
. She’s just some girl. You’ve worked for years to get where you are.

I don’t leave. I climb the stairs and push open the door, feeling like forty thousand volts of electricity are coursing through my body.

Mike and Jose both half raise their guns when the door opens, then see it’s me. I nod at them.

“Hey man,” Mike says, the tattooed dots on his face bobbing as we talks. “We were just talking about whether she sucks dick good or not.”

For once, I’m wound up too tight to get a hard-on at the idea of Tessa’s lips on my cock. I just laugh.

“She’s all right,” I say. “Nothing special.”

Tessa’s on the couch, still alive, but I can see her shaking from here. Mike and Jose are both standing between me and her, and the cold metal of the gun presses against my lower back.

It’s too risky. I have to get between her and them.

Jose, the bald guy, shrugs and looks at Mike.

“You want your dick sucked by a scared gringa?” he asks.

Mike tilts his head and considers this prospect seriously.

“Nah,” says Mike. “Let’s do this and get back. She looks toothy.”

“Wait,” I say, and hold up one hand.

They both look at me. I’m ranked above them, after all, so I’ve got the authority here.

“I know you two drove a long way, but this cunt has been a pain in my ass for two days now,” I say.

I take out my gun and pretend to check that it’s loaded.

“You want this one?” Mike asks.

“I thought you had that thing about women,” Jose says.

I shrug and walk between them, toward Tessa.

She looks at me with giant green eyes. I’ve never seen anyone look more
betrayed
.

“About women, sure,” I say. “Not dogs.”

They laugh.

“Sure, man,” Jose says. “Sounds like you need it more than us.”

He sticks his gun behind his back and crosses his arms in front of himself.

I walk to where she’s sitting, and she lunges away but I grab her by the hair and she
screams
, a raw, ragged sound full of pure rage.

I force her to her knees, facing away from me, and at that moment she stops fighting. She doesn’t say anything, just goes totally still and quiet.

I’m sorry
, I think.

I point my gun at the back of her head and take a deep breath, steadying my hand. I glance at Jose and Mike, both standing there, looking amused, arms crossed over their chests.

I can’t believe what I’m about to do.

“Any last words, you fucking cunt?” I say.

Tessa doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t do anything. All her fight is suddenly gone.

I shrug and cock my gun.

I
hear
the click and a weird peace falls over me, like I’m suddenly in a place where nothing can hurt me anymore.

I close my eyes. My only thought is
please, don’t let it hurt too much
.

Then there’s two gunshots right in a row,
bam bam
and my eyes fly open.

That didn’t hurt at
all
,
I think, and then I look down.

The two guys are both laid out on the floor like rag dolls. Alex takes two steps and stands over the bald guy.

He looks down and shoots him once, right in the center of the forehead.

I yelp and then cover my mouth with both hands. I want to close my eyes but I
can’t
. They’re glued to Alex, who’s suddenly rigid and businesslike as he crosses the room to the other guy.

He also gets one bullet in the forehead. Everything goes very, very still.

I don’t move. I feel like I’m in some sort of weird fugue state, like my mind is giving me this last nice story before I finally die.

Alex looks from one to the other, then puts the safety back on his gun. He rolls both guys over and takes their guns as well, puts all three on the kitchen counter.

I’m on my feet. I don’t know how I got there, but I am.

Alex stares at the guns, leaning against the counter for a long moment, like he’s deep in thought.

Then he looks over at me.

“You okay?” he asks.

I take a deep breath and try to force my whole body to stop shaking.

“Yeah,” I say.

I’m amazed to hear that I almost sound normal.

“Did they hurt you?” he asks. His voice is a low, dangerous growl, and his hands are gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles are white.

I shake my head.

“You can tell me,” he says, his voice still in that register.

“They didn’t hurt me,” I say. “They’d only been here for a minute, maybe two, when you got back.”

Besides,
I think,
you can’t kill them again
.

He nods and looks back at the counter.

“Good,” he says. “Go shower, you’ve covered in coffee and blood. I’ll take care of this.”

He opens a cabinet and takes out Windex and paper towels, then begins taking one of the guns apart.

I have a thousand questions I want answers to, but trying to formulate them feels like walking through quicksand. Every time I try to think, I just remember Alex grabbing me by the hair. Forcing me to my knees.

Those two men,
laughing
.

Now they’re bodies, huge puddles of blood still spreading beneath them. Holes in the chest and in the head.

“Tessa,” Alex says, and my head snaps up to look at him.

His hands are still working on the guns, cleaning them carefully, piece by piece, but he’s looking at me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head slightly. “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“Go shower,” he says. “We don’t have long before they start looking for us.”

I don’t even ask who
they
is, I just head for the bathroom.

T
essa walks toward the bathroom
, and I watch her go. The door clicks shut softly and I exhale, looking down at the bodies.

I feel a twinge of guilt, but only a twinge. They’d have been happy to make Tessa blow them both before they killed her, and they’ve always been scum like that.

I used to have their job, so it’s hard to feel too bad for them.

There’s a reason I’m alive and they’re not: I didn’t fuck around when I was working. I got it done and
left
.

I step around the lakes of blood and slide their eyes shut. I fold their hands on their bloody stomachs. More guys will be here by nightfall at the latest, so I’m not going to bury them. Someone else can do that.

We need to
leave
.

I head to the utility closet. I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re going to do, so I just grab a ton of shit and put it in the SUV. Lots of water, a duffel bag full of fresh first aid supplies, camping gear, anything that looks like it could be useful.

When I finish that, she’s still in the shower.

She’s been in there
forever
.

I knock on the door.

“Tessa,” I call.

I try not to think about her naked, perfect body slippery and wet. If there was ever a time
not
to think about how much I want to fuck her, this is it.

It doesn’t work. My dick goes hard, but I ignore it and knock again.

No answer. A seed of worry plants itself in my chest.

What if there were three of them and the third guy was hiding in here
, I think. I wish I had a gun on me, but they’re all dismantled on the counter.

I shove the door open and look around, but there’s just one form visible through the shower curtain.

It’s huddled in one corner, and it looks like she’s still got the sheets wrapped around her.

“What?” she says, her voice shaky. She’s obviously crying.

Shit
.

“Tessa,” I say, and open the shower door.

The water’s cold by now. I reach in and turn it off, still wearing my shoes and all the clothes I’ve got.

She’s got her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, her eyes red and puffy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m not — I didn’t —”

She gasps for breath, then squeezes her eyes shut as a sob tears itself out of her.

I don’t say anything, I just sit on the wet tile next to her pull her toward myself. She lets me.

I hold her tight against my chest and stroke her wet hair. I’m soaked through in a few minutes, but I don’t care. It’s a hundred and fifteen degrees outside, I’ll be dry in no time.

After a minute, she clears her throat.

“Sorry,” she whispers again. “I don’t know what happened.”

I lean my head back against the tile wall of the shower and wonder what the fuck has happened to
me
. This is how people
should
react to watching two strangers get shot at point-blank range, right in front of them.

I’m a monster
, I think, but the thought doesn’t make me feel bad. It’s just a fact: I’m a monster.

“You’re safe now,” I tell her. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

At least not if I can stop them
, I think.

She takes a deep breath and turns her face toward me, sitting up a little, scooting along the wet tile of the shower floor. She’s got one hand on my chest and even though she’s crying and wrapped in wet sheets, she’s beyond beautiful.

Her hand moves up my chest, finding my skin where it’s unbuttoned at the top. Then she looks up at me, the expression in her green eyes half plaintive and half something else.

Her fingers creep up to my face and she runs her thumb along the lower edge of my lip, rough with two days’ worth of stubble. I suddenly realize that I can see her nipples through the wet sheet, pink and hard, and then my mouth is on hers.

She
sighs
as she leans into me, her lips already parted, her body pressing against mine.

We have to leave
, I think.
We have to go now. NOW
.

I tug the sheets down and grab one breast in my hand, the nipple diamond-hard and slippery. I’m rock hard
again
and now her hand trails down my chest and finds the outline of my cock through my wet tuxedo pants, her fingers dancing over it.

I growl and pull at the other side of the wet sheets and now I’m pinching both of her nipples in my hands and Tessa
moans
, her mouth still hungry against mine. I want more than anything to push her up against the shower wall, tear this sheet off, and hear the way she gasps when I push my tongue inside her to taste her.

Then I think of a black SUV, barreling down the freeway toward us. Full of men with guns.

Angry
men with guns.

I actually lose my erection a little. I’ll never get to do anything else with Tessa if we’re both dead.

“What’s wrong?” she murmurs.

“We’ve gotta go,” I say.

“Right now?” she whispers.

“Believe me, I’d rather stay here,” I say. “Licking your pussy until you come sounds
much
better than running for my life.”

That makes her look down at the floor of the shower, and I take the opportunity to stand. I pull her to her feet, and she tugs the cold wet sheet back over her breasts.

“Sorry,” she says, for about the millionth time. “I don’t know what got into me.”

“Don’t be
sorry
,” I say. I’m looking at her nipples again. “But we do have some priorities. Go get dressed.”

I leave the bathroom. It takes all my self-control to leave her standing there, wet, naked, and horny.

* * *

I
’m waiting
in the SUV already when she gets in, wearing her evening gown again. I’d forgotten that it’s the only clothing she has, and it’s a disgusting, tattered mess.

“Okay,” she says, looking at me evenly. “Let’s go.”