September: Calendar Girl Book 9 (7 page)

I groaned and pushed against him to get in the room. He let me by but followed me in. I tossed my purse and went to the mini bar, pulled out a tiny bottle of whiskey, uncapped it, and slammed it all back in one harsh shot.

Max leaned on the edge of the couch. “You’ve had your drink, now talk.” As if to make his point that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he crossed his arms over one another.

“Nothing. What you saw wasn’t meant to happen.” I blew a puff of air out over my too-hot forehead and reached for another baby bottle of whiskey. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“That’s a damn good question, darlin’. You see, I was taking care of some business back home, making sure everything was ready for my boy’s arrival when I got a frantic call from our baby sister. She went on and on about you being spooked hard enough to worry her. Says she’s never seen you that upset. Being the big brother, and the only one who’s got your back right now since your man is missing, I high-tailed it back. Got the plane at the ready when I need to.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “You need to be with Cyndi and Isabel waiting for that baby to come. They need you.” With feet that felt as though they were weighed down by a pair of snow skis, I made my way to the couch and plopped down.

“And they’ll have me. Just as soon as I get a read on what’s going on with you. Maddy tells me something is up and she knows it’s not good. Why didn’t you call me, Mia?” His voice was tired, filled with that gravelly tone I’d begun to appreciate. The volume and timbre said, “I’m a man who cares about you, loves you, and will do anything to protect you.” I needed that in my life. Especially now.

“Ginelle was kidnapped by Blaine’s goons. They roughed her up as a way to get to me.”

“Why? I thought all of this was working out. You told me it was fine last month. That you had a handle on it.” His voice was accusatory, and it sent a knife right into my heart.

Anger rippled along every nerve in my body, and I stood up and paced, needing to get this shit out. “It
was
fine!” I yelled. “And then Pops got worse. I didn’t make it to my client this month.”

“So?”

“So! In my contract, if a man books me for a month and I flake on him, I owe him the hundred thousand!”

“Jesus H. Christ, Mia!” His voice was as upset as mine even though it wasn’t his ass on the line.

I had been dealing with this shit all by myself and doing just fine with it. “Then, because Millie had to pay the client the money you paid me, I missed my payment to Blaine. Next month, I’ll work for the entire month before I can send a payment. So I’m behind. And he’s proving that he can get to me any way he wants.” Tears filled my eyes and poured down my cheeks. “This is all so fucked up!” I flopped down onto the chair.

Max came and sat down in front of it on the coffee table. The wood creaked against his massive weight. “What do you owe?”

I blinked, letting more tears fall. “Right now, two hundred large.”

His eyebrows narrowed. “That’s all?”

I shook my head. “No, I owe the two hundred right this second. For August and September.”

“Darlin’, how much do you owe period?” His voice was now soft, tinged with worry.

My shoulders slumped as if I’d carried the money in solid gold bricks directly on my shoulders. ”Four hundred.” I answered.

“And what type of agreement did you come to?”

Licking my lips, I sniffed, took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes, the same orbs that mirrored my own. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Sugar, I already don’t like it. Just tell me.”

Clutching his hands, the tears flowed again, slipping down my face. “Either I can pay him the four hundred or….” I swallowed repeatedly, trying to push that giant ball of ugly down my throat so I could speak, admit the truth of what I’d considered doing but knew I couldn’t.

“Or…?” Max’s eyes were so kind, his mouth tipped into a little frown.

“Me. A night in his bed.”

Max leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. “Darlin’, that’s going to happen over my dead body.” He was firm and unbending, one hundred percent serious.

I snorted at the sick, twisted thought that ran through my head. What Max didn’t know was that Blaine was the exact type of man who would make that happen without so much as a fleck of remorse.

My phone rang and buzzed against my thigh. I’d been carrying it around nonstop, never allowing it more than a foot from my presence in case there was news about Wes.

I looked down at the display. Sweet Jesus. Ginelle.

“Hello, Gin?” I answered, desperate to hear her voice, make sure she was okay. Blaine had promised that she would be let go and home within the hour.

“I’m home,” was her single reply before the line disconnected.

T
axi drivers
in Las Vegas rock! Toss them a hundred dollar bill and they will easily break every traffic law in the books. Knowing my best friend was home, had been kidnapped, roughed up, and released in the span of a day had me out of my mind with worry. Every nerve ending was sparking like an exposed live wire ready to zap anyone that touched it.

When the driver stopped at her apartment’s curb, I tossed a handful of twenties I kept as my emergency money, including the hundred I’d already promised him, and dashed out of the car and up the steps to her door.

Instead of banging on the door as if my life depended on it like I wanted to, I pulled out my surfboard key ring that held all of five keys. One to Wes’s house, Pops’s place, Maddy’s apartment, Suzi, my motorcycle, and Ginelle’s apartment. Five metal reminders of the people that meant the most to me in the entire world, though I had a horde of new friends that were coming in as close seconds.

Slipping the key into the lock, I opened the door and tiptoed in quietly. The lamp on the side table by the couch was on, but no sound could be heard throughout the space. I walked past her giant burgundy couch, one that was far too big for the space but was also the most comfortable piece of future in the universe. When I sat on its puffy goodness, it formed to my thighs, my back, and cradled my body in a welcoming hug. Yep, best ever.

The kitchen and hallway were both dark, devoid of life. I walked slowly down the corridor leading to the two bedrooms. Gin always kept one room as a guest room. She said she wanted to make sure I always had a place to stay wherever she lived. That’s just the type of best friend she is. The light to her room was on. I tapped on the door.

“Gin, it’s Mia,” I said.

“Go away,” I heard her mumble through a whimper.

I pushed open the door. She was huddled in the corner of her room, still in her tattered work attire. Dried blood was crusted around her nose and mouth and along her neck where it had trickled down. The pink sequins sparkled in the bright light. She had the overhead light on, the lights on both end tables and the bathroom light shining in the room. The place was lit like the Disneyland Parade, so bright it blinded you to have your eyes open all the way. Squinting, I shuffled slowly over to her and crouched down. Her body shook like a leaf in the wind. I placed a hand on her knee and she jolted back, her teeth chattering. Tears ran down her face in rivulets, leaving black, sticky smudges of mascara and makeup to mix in with the dirty grit on her face. Her cheek was swollen, her eye turning an ugly shade of purple, and her lip looked like it might need stitching.

A rage I’d never known swept over my entire being. It was so hot I worried I’d scald my best friend with a single touch. Knowing she needed me, I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth, grinding so hard I could hear the grating noise from the inside. Looking at her petite body, torn, battered, worse for the wear, had my blood boiling. Taking deep breaths, I took her hands in mine.

“Come on, honey. I’m going to take care of you.”

Ginelle shook her head jerkily. “No, you have to g-go. If they come b-back, they’ll take you for s-sure. He said, he s-said he was going to m-make you his, Mia. They want you b-bad.” Her hands clutched my biceps so hard I knew finger-shaped bruises would be there by morning. “This time he w-won’t s-stop until he h-has y-you,” she sputtered through her chattering teeth, her eyes a wild shade of cornflower blue. The girl was frightened out of her mind, and I hated that it was my fault. They’d hurt my best friend because of me. Thank God she was okay. I’d make sure she stayed that way.

I tugged her body into my arms. After a second, the tears turned into sobs, which turned into all-over body heaving as she cried. For twenty minutes, I let her get it out, exorcise the demons of what happened to her. It would never go away. For a long time, she’d probably be looking over her shoulder as well as double and triple-checking the locks on her doors. It was very possible she’d end up needing counseling to get past it. Whatever Gin needed, I’d get it for her. Somehow, some way.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I petted her hair and her back in long soothing strokes.

She nodded and allowed me to help her stand. When I caught sight of her attire, I almost lost my shit all over again. The front was slit all the way to her belly button, her breasts barely covered by the flimsy fabric. There were new slits cut near each thigh as if the fucker were trying to get a good look at her nether regions. I turned her around and walked her into the bathroom. I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood, trying not to scream, yell, and destroy everything in my wake, until I’d found the bastards and put them in a hole six feet under with my bare hands.

Turning on the water for the shower, I helped her out of her clothes. She immediately covered her breasts even though I’d seen them a million times. Gin was not shy, and neither was I. We’d known each other our entire lives, but if the modesty helped her, I wouldn’t say anything. Making sure the water was okay, I pulled off my T-shirt and pushed off my pants, leaving my bra and panties on. Then I maneuvered us both into the shower.

With extreme effort, I worked around the various bruises, cuts, and scrapes I found all over her, wishing we could press charges, but knowing Blaine and how many men at the local PD he had in his pocket, the effort would be useless. The bastard would laugh in our faces. I squirted copious amounts of her body wash onto the buff puff and instructed her like a child to hold out one arm and then the next, lift a foot and then the next. I put more soap on the loofa and handed it to her. “Clean your front and hoo-hah, Gin.”

She nodded and methodically did what I’d asked as if she were a drone just following orders. Getting some shampoo, I washed her long blond hair, rubbing her scalp slowly, hopefully massaging out some of the tension. When I got to the back of her neck she sighed, and finally her stiff shoulders loosened and dropped down. Point one for Mia!

I repeated the process with the conditioner, making sure to move with intent, never touching the rest of her body. As children and teens we’d taken showers together a hundred times, but after today, I wanted her to be confident that she was being loved, not taken advantage of. That I respected her space and would be here in any way she needed me. This woman was, for all intents and purposes, my sister, and I loved her more than life itself. Had I been able to take what happened away in exchange for me being the one they’d taken, I would have gladly volunteered to save her even an ounce of pain.

“Honey, very lightly wash your face with this, okay?” I handed her the facial soap. She rubbed her hands over the bar as if warming them. I took the bar, and she closed her hands and did as she was told. Each time she got near her lip, cheek, and eye, she’d wince and gasp in pain. Every sound was like another nail in Blaine’s coffin. I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to Ginelle. Fuck, I wanted him to bleed for what he’d done to my father as well as my best friend. Taking Ginelle to prove a point tonight had gone too far. I had to figure something out. We couldn’t live in fear like this. Worried that every time someone I loved left his home or work he’d be scooped up by one of Blaine’s goons and tortured just to fuck with my head.

Once she was washed, I watched the last of the coppery brown swirls of soap and blood go down the drain. I hopped out of the shower and let her have some alone time.

Drying off, I went into her room and grabbed two pairs of undies. I shucked off my wet ones and put on a dry pair and one of her sports bras. She had curves for a little thing, but my boobs were much larger and would never fit into her smaller cups. In the PJ drawer I pulled out two tanks and two pairs of fleecy plaid pants. They’d be high-waters on me, but it didn’t matter. Not wanting to leave Gin in the shower alone for too long, I tugged on the outfit and brought the rest to the bathroom.

When I entered, she hadn’t moved. As in, not even an inch. She just stood there, the water pounding on her back, blankly staring at the opposite side of the shower stall. I reached in, turned it off, grabbed the giant towel next to the shower, and wrapped it around her. She didn’t protest anything as I dried her, and she kept her gaze off to the side and down, lost in her own thoughts.

“Want to talk about it?” I asked.

She shook her head. The first movement she’d made on her own without being instructed.

“Okay, you don’t have to.”

Ginelle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tears slipped out, but I didn’t say anything. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. For now, I would just take care of her and be here. That’s the best thing I could do for her. Once I got her dressed, I guided her over to the toilet seat where I sat her down. Then with thumb and forefinger, I lifted her chin to inspect her face. The lip was pretty open but not so much that it wouldn’t heal on its own.

“I’ll be right back.” I said and moved to turn around, but before I could make it a step away, her hands were clutching my tank, holding me there.

“Don’t leave me.” Her voice shook. I placed my hands over hers and unfurled them from my shirt.

I looked right into her eyes, pale green to cornflower blue. “Gin, I’m not leaving you. I’m getting the first aid kit in the hall so I can patch up your face, okay?”

Her pupils were huge. Like two giant black holes. She trembled all over but nodded curtly. I squeezed her hands and then got up and walked slowly out of the room. The second I made it past the threshold, I ran to the closet and rummaged around until I found the red case with the big white cross on it. Shoving the rest of the stuff that fell around me back into the closet, I hustled back to Ginelle. Again, she hadn’t moved, just stared off into space. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as I got close.

“One more thing.” I ran to the closet and pulled out her favorite zip-up hoodie. It was hot pink and had bedazzled metal balls on the back in the shape of angels’ wings running the length of the back. I put the hood over her wet hair, helped her put each arm in, and zipped it up. Again, she sighed, tucked her hands inside the armholes, and clutched it close to her body.

Trying to be careful, I treated the various cuts with some ointment and Band-Aids where possible and gave her four Ibuprofen. “This will help with the pain. Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, and I helped her stand. Pulling back the blankets on her bed, I led her in. Then I closed up the rest of the house, sent a quick text to Maddy and Max telling them where I was, and got into bed next to Gin. I rolled over, put my arm around her waist, and spooned her backside. I snuggled into her neck.

“You’re okay now. I’m here, and Gin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this happened to you, but I swear, I swear to God it will never happen again. I promise.”

She clasped both of my hands to her chest and held me close. Then once more, the tears came and they came hard. I held her, soothed her, spoke softly to her until eventually she fell asleep. Then, exhausted, I too fell into dreamland.

A
featherlight caress
ran up one arm and back down. I opened my eyes sleepily and was face to face with the only person I wanted to see more than I wanted to take my next breath. “You’re here,” I whispered, afraid if I blinked, he’d vanish. Wes ran his fingertips up and down both of my bare arms, solidifying his presence.

“Of course I am, sweetheart. Where did you think I’d be?” His head dipped to the side and a cocky grin covered his lips. Beautiful.

I swallowed and choked down the emotion swirling around me. “Gone. Lost to me.”

Wes leaned forward and trailed his lips down my neck, over my tank top, nipping and kissing as he moved.

“The only place I’m going, sweetheart, is between these thighs. Spread ’em.” He gripped my inner thighs with purpose.

Without thought, care, concern, I did exactly that. Opened my legs nice and wide for him.

He sat back on his haunches. A well-placed thumb pushed down on my hot spot as if he’d had x-ray vision and could see through my underwear to the pink flesh beyond. The digit spun around the aching, hard kernel of need. His eyes were focused on the task in front of him, glued to the space between my thighs. “Look at that. Soaking that cotton right before my eyes.”

I mewled and jerked my hips, wanting more, needing more. “Baby…” I said, breathless, moving my hips in tandem with the blessed little circles.

“You think I can make you come without touching your naked body? Having you screaming in release with just my thumb?” His eyes blazed, lust apparent in every slow blink. He licked his lips, and I watched the bit of flesh moisten, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. He moved his thumb in a fluttering flick that made me arch up. “Can you, Mia? I think you can.”

He knew what he was doing. Talking dirty, playing with me. The act of touching me with a barrier ratcheted up my excitement to smokin’ hot levels.

Wes leaned forward, holding my legs down with his powerful biceps, his elbows resting on each side of my thighs preventing any further movement. He nudged my clit with his nose and inhaled loudly.

“Jesus, baby, you smell so good. I missed this. Having my face buried in this heat. Best place in the world.”

He nuzzled my cloth-covered core, his nose rubbing against the erect bundle, his mouth right over where I wanted him most. I could feel the wet heat of his breath through my panties, right over my slit. Then he took it up a notch, flattened his tongue, and sucked on the damp fabric, groaning his enjoyment at sampling me through the weave of fabric. It provided a new sensation, one I’d never had before, but I wanted to rip the panties off. Let him taste me fully with no barrier.

“Wes,” I shimmied my hips as best as I could until he put the lockdown over my thigh once more.

“No moving, sweetheart. I want your body forced to accept every ounce of pleasure I give you.” And then he went to work. Licking and sucking my lower lips and clit through the miniscule basket weave of cotton covering me. Pretty soon, I was so wet that it didn’t matter that he was eating me through my underwear, it felt so damned good. When he rubbed that thumb over my sweet spot and pressed a pointed tongue into my core, the cotton grated along oversensitive tissue, and my body went tight. The pressure started at my core, glided up my chest, wrapped around my heart, out each limb until I convulsed. The pleasure electrified me, but Wes didn’t stop. He held me down and forced me to take the pleasure again and again until he ripped off my panties and dived his tongue deep into my slit. So much so his movements pressed me up the bed. He couldn’t get close enough and the sounds he made were carnal, animalistic. Christ, I could come from the sounds alone.