The Runaway Viper (Viper #2) (17 page)

I loved you yesterday. I love you still. Always have and always will.

Jace

I fold the letter up, take a deep breath and push the letter back over to Eli. On the inside I’m a mess, filled with unfed desires and needy longing for my husband’s touch. The letter has done nothing to calm my body’s internal prerequisite to behold the sight of him before me or to have him touch me one more time.

“I want you to look after it. I can’t be found with that.” It’s a simple instruction, but it’s one I need him to commit to. “He might have something planned, but we don’t know how long it’s going to take for him to set that in action.”

“I don’t know much, but I do know the moment the opportunity arises, there isn’t going to need much planning.” Eli’s fingers tighten again, making sure I’m still giving him my utmost attention. “For now, you have Brianna and me here. Can you cope with us for now?”

“I think so,” I agree with a slow nod of my head.

I don’t know a lot of things about my life, right now, but I know salvation has to be a breath away.

It has to be.

***

“So you have been some sort of minx,” Brianna breaks my silence. She had gone with Eli to search through a takeout menu, and I hadn’t even realized she’d left him.

I look to her, unsure what it is she’s getting at exactly. I’ve broken so many rules, vows,
morals in such a short time I’ve lost count and let my betrayals surround me and leave a bread crumb trail behind me.

“Josh and your brother,” she trails off, initiating realization upon me. “I thought you and Josh clicked the first time he grabbed your hand at the club, but I didn’t realize there was massive amounts of history.”

“There is,” I mutter and smile tightly to her. “He’s Dylan’s older brother.” I have to giggle as her mouth falls open and her eyes widen slightly. “Apparently fate has a thing for me.”

“Clearly,” she states astounded. “So he knew about you and your past and didn’t try to break you out?”

I cock a brow. “Why do you think he’s here still?”

“Oh,” she muses and sits back, visibly digesting it all. “Well shit, girlie, I never thought I’d have it, but you have well played that bitch.”

“I think I love you more.” She then sits back up, takes my hands, and just forces my attention to narrow upon her. “This is why you cannot give up, Joely. You have so many people rooting for you. You have an entire family waiting for you. You’re the special one. That’s why Clara doted upon you. She always knew you were the one who had more to lose. It’s why Cassidy hates you! What you did wasn’t bad, you didn’t lose your family, like most of us. You ran for self-preservation, and you have them back. You cannot give up now.”

“As long as I’m not tripped up, I won’t. I just have to power on.” My jokes so filled with drips of melancholy I feel them build in my throat like a bad taste. I know I am the luckiest girl to walk that club. I have a family, friends,
a future. Some of them - Brianna, Luca,
Cassidy
- all faced total abandonment. The Viper Rooms was their last and only hope. They made it their home. I knew I didn’t have to settle, and I suppose that’s why I rebel so much. I know it’s not my last resort.

If I fall from the doors of the club, like I fell at them, I’ll have a life.

It’s time I remember that.

“
Bree?” I suddenly ask, there are so many things I want to say, but right now the most important balances upon my tongue. When she looks at me, I give her a small, gracious smile. “You do know that you’re in my future, right?”

“I should hope so,” she teases.

“No, I’m serious,” I dampen her joking tone and sit up. “Past forgotten and everything else. When we’re away from here, we’re away from here together.” I watch her eyes water, and I know she’s been given something far grander than The Viper Rooms – deliverance. “I am not going to do this without you anymore. We made a pact when we both became friends and that was to always stick together. We fell apart somehow, but I never want that to happen again.”

Brianna doesn’t respond
, she’s forced into a submissive silence. I can see what she’s doing. She’s between a rock and a hard place right now. She’s trying to prevent the tears, tell herself not to cry. The one thing I hate about Brianna is how low she thinks of herself. She believes she deserves the worse because her issues are ones she forced upon herself. When people offer her a better chance at life, it’s a shock to her.

But it’s as the silence settles in, comfortably cloaking us that I feel my mind trail off.
It’s receding back into those deep dark corners, the ones that howl in pain and remind us of the things we knew we should have left locked away in the Pandora’s box of our brain.

“I don’t like that face,” Brianna pipes up, sitting forward. “What’s really going through your mind, right now,
Chica?”

I look at her, roll my eyes and give a little shrug of nonchalance. “I would have loved that baby,” I suddenly whisper, the thought consuming me whole all over.

“There is a time and place for life to work out perfectly. This isn’t it.” Brianna’s talk is brief and light, but it’s what I need. “We don’t know Clara’s motives and as much as we would have protected you, you were right. How do we protect ourselves from the woman who’s bought everyone over?” Her question becomes rhetorical as I remain speechless. “There will be a right time for a family with that husband of yours.” She laughs when I give her an askew expression. “I’m pissed I missed your wedding!”

I giggle slightly. “He already plans to do another so my family will be there.” I blush at the thought. “The first time was perfect though.”

“I just wished I’d have been there,” Brianna gushes, getting all dreamy and distancing herself from reality.

“I wish you had been too,” I comment and a slice of resentment resonates within me. I really do wish she had been a part of that day.

“You might not have been there, but I have the video,” Eli comments as he comes back in, obviously finishing up the call he just made to get us food.

“You were there?” Brianna
balks, her voice shrill. She pouts when Eli nods his head and grins that bright Cheshire cat smirk. “Now I am officially jealous! I think we need to start planning a second wedding under The Boss’ nose!”

With that comment a wash of hope ignites within me. I might not be entirely confident with my mental state, but I am confident with who’s around to support me when the going gets tough.

“No.”

The word crawled out of my like a bullet does the barrel of a gun. The moment the orders were thrashed at me, I declined. I can’t do this. I can’t be something, anything,
nothing to a stranger. My moral compass doesn’t allow it anymore.

My hands fall together, my fingers automatically toying with the rings on my left index finger. I’m married. I’m not some free-spirit who was whipped into action. The thought is hard hitting and sends a trail of desperation throughout my system. I square my shoulders, the muscles seizing in tightness, as my legs harden in their position. My chest tightens
after, the breaths I exhale are rigid and disjointed, faltering at keeping me level-headed.

“No?” Clara balks at me.

I’m in for it now. She’s only just introduced me to a new client and already I’m disobeying and becoming the defiant me. I might still be mentally unstable, but I am well aware of what I want and do not want. I don’t want this because what I have heard will only jeopardize myself. I’ve given a lot of myself to Clara, I won’t allow this.

“I think we need a word,” she whispers heavily, grabbing my arm.

Pulling me aside, she leaves Jonah Hart at the bar. I look back at him, seeing the perspiration wet his brow. He has a nervous disposition, but I think that has something to do with why his here – his inability to make his wife sexually grateful. He’s here to seek girls who will allow him to have his way with them just to see if it’s him having the
issue
. He wants us to present him with his manhood in a pretty, Viper Girl wrapped box. I know if he has me, he won’t get a boost in his self-esteem. His libido will drop, his drive will lower, and all because I won’t be able to fake an orgasm and come on cue.

No one has been able to make my body become sexually alive since I saw Jace dragged away. A forty-five-year-old man with erectile dysfunction certainly won’t help me with it. I look away from the balding, slightly overweight male, knowing if I continue to stare I will do more damage with the pitiful expression threatening to take over.

“How dare you decline clients to their faces!” Clara hisses, the anger snaking around every cell of her being. “You are here to represent me. Do you know how stupid you just made me look?”

“Mr. Hart is a big time entrepreneur and his donation to the club would be much appreciated. You along with Brianna, Alex, and Luca will make sure this man has optimal pleasure. Whatever he solely desires, you give him it. He wants control, to know he can have a woman quivering at his fingers tips, now forget about your marriage and do your job.”

“Or what?” I ask her. She’s never once threatened to take the rings off my fingers, and I never dared to remove them. Why would I? I’d feel naked without them on and that’s not an exposure I’m willing to put upon myself.

Taking me by the arm, Clara yanks me forward. I stumble into her, and she holds me tightly by my arm. “Joely, you’ll do as I say or that husband of yours will get another visit. He might have remained quiet on my radar, but he can still pay for what you do wrong.”

“Sam had quite the fun with him last time. I’m sure he’s not opposed to offering another round.”

“Oh no,” Sam chuckles and crunches his knuckles, gives me a menacing grin as the sadist within him strikes to life. “I had him begging once; I’m ready to beat him to a brainless pulp this time.”

I know Sam is only acting this way because somewhere in him, he holds a torch for Clara. I have no idea why, but he’ll do anything, not matter how callous and evil, just to win some sort of praise. He would beat Jace into a coma if Clara gave him even just a pat on the back. That’s why I won’t risk it. I’ve felt him manhandle me, and I know that was him going lightly. For Jace, he won’t be so kind.

“I suggest you escort Mr. Hart to your designated room and allow him the half hour he needs with you.” She bristles as I remain where I am. “Surely half an hour is easy to survive, Joely? Otherwise, I can make sure
Jace’s suffering goes on
all night long
.” She punches each of the final three words out with such malice I can hear her enjoyment. She leers at me, her eyes on the room behind me, the client standing nearby. She won’t break the facade. “Is it worth the risk?”

Swallowing my pride and derision at the thought, I turn on my spot and strive for my inner sensuality to reap from the ashes it had become. I hear the low cackle from Clara as she watches and hear her cheer that I’m a good girl as I feel a shiver run up my spine. It hits my neck, raising all the hairs on the back of it and prickles across my scalp. The
goosebumps rise instantly and I reach deep for my inner Viper Girl.

“Mr. Hart,” I acknowledge him sweetly. “I’m sorry for the rudeness there. I meant no disrespect. I wasn’t expecting a change to my clientele listing.”

He gives me a hard smile, his eyes glistening with perpetual darkness. He seems a nice man, but I sense he’s greedy and needy all wrapped in one. He wants the acknowledgement he’s a good man, a man looking for a woman to say he was one of her best and to allow him to have others to do the same.

“That’s okay,” he announces, giving me a courteous head nod. “Shall we go somewhere quiet?”

I nod and direct, “This way.” I put my arm out toward the row of doors. As I walk behind him, I exchange glances with Eli, and he knows exactly what this is – another moment I’m being led to the slaughter. I see his eyes enlarge, his brow furrows, and I shake my head. I gulp, look away, and point Mr. Hart to my door. I reach within my bra, an action I haven’t had to for so long, and retrieve my key. It’s so unlike my old one, it’s lighter, smaller, silver. It shows my degradation through the viper chain. I move around him, put the key into the lock and allow us in.

The room is neutral. I couldn’t add any real parts of me. I can’t make this room mine when I know I don’t belong here. I’ve kept the
color pallet down to a bare minimal, the walls a light dusting of pink and the sheets kept black and white satin. I didn’t want to be extravagant with my requests. I wanted the room done as quickly as possible. There’s a dresser in here again, filled with changes of clothes if I need them. I have two bedside tables, both made of glass with lamps on each of them. I have a chair in the corner and pictures of Paris breaking up the pink.

Jonah walks in and I’m reminded fiercely of Clive as he takes his blazer off and tosses it to the side, discarding of it onto the bed. He turns to face me, but unlike Clive, he’s not so filled with hate and evilness. His eyes are soft. I close the door, and I’m not given the demand to lock it.

“How do you want to do this then?”  he asks me. He oozes with so much nervous energy, the air is almost condemned with it.

“You take control,” I breathe unsteadily. I cannot give him direction here. I don’t want a part of this, but I can’t tell him that. Even with the rings on my fingers, no one cares or notices that I am a taken woman. None of those men care that I am someone’s wife, that my heart belongs to him, that I will hate myself for cheating on him by even being a part of the club. “What do you want to do?”

His nervousness transforms into bashfulness. It’s strange to see a client of Clara’s like this. Usually they’re so sure of themselves, dressed to impressed, money to flash. Jonah is unlike most of the men here. Clearly he came here with an idea, but the club will never measure up to anyone’s expectations.

“My wife finds sex with me a chore.” I can hear his voice waver, almost like the words are sticking within him as it admits some personal truths. “I can’t seem to bring her to any sort of climax. So that’s why I’m here. I want to see if it’s me.”

“So how do you plan to make me?” I ask him. I’m pleased with myself, offering an inner round of applause as I don’t show any fear or disconnect. I’m here, alive and breathing and ready to get this thirty minutes over with.

“Like this,” he starts and morphs into a new being.

His eyes become feral with unleashed sexual prowess. He looks like a wolf in sheep’s clothing to me. He’s only nervous to get his foot in the door. He takes a few steps toward me, making me step back. His hand comes up to graze upon my face as my back hits the door. The skin on his hand is dry, I can feel the calloused surface skim my jaw, and I fight with myself not to disappoint by recoiling in horror.

Jonah hitches the skirt of my dress up, the figure hugging material bunching up as it reaches my hips. He
lies a hand flat onto my thigh, rubbing my skin as he runs it up closer to my panties. He leans against me, forcing me to remain between him and the wood of the door. He kisses my neck, trying to sensualize my body, garnering for a reaction. My head tips back, but only to make sure he doesn’t kiss my lips. It’s a counteraction to his advances and his ploy.

Suddenly, his fingers wrap themselves around the side of my sheer panties and he rips them from me; an act that has me feeling reminiscent of Jace. That was always his mode of method. I feel like I’m in a twilight zone, being made to live through moments that once have had such a hold on me. These are times in my life that have taunted me, revived me, drowned me, and doused me.

Now they’re overloading me, making my mind jump and jolt between the good and bad life has inflicted upon me. My thoughts gallop into a dizzying speed as I feel his hand travel between my legs. One hand races behind me, cupping my butt check in his palm, securing me as he brushes over my mound, passing over my clitoris and working its way inside of me. The moment he enters me I gasp, not out of delight, but horror. His touch felt a trail of dirt on me, now the feeling is manifesting, smothering my body, solidifying itself and becoming one with my soul.

I feel a tear trickle down my face as he continues to finger me, thrusting one then two of his long, rough digits into me. I squeeze my eyes tighter, begging for a release from this cruelty, but I know he won’t stop until I come. I feel nothing for this man. He’s abusing me, and I’m allowing it. I won’t get a release and he won’t get what he came for.

I whimper, but it’s drowned out by his grunting. I never thought my eventual downfall would come from a finger fuck, but it’s happened, and I am in critical need of a savior that will get here too late.

“Cum for me,” he groans, adding another finger to his sexually perverted triad on me.

I don’t come, I don’t react. He’s trying everything to get me off. He hastens himself, flexes his fingers in me, makes the thrusts of his fingers harder, but my body is completely turned off. Every jolt of his hand makes my body stiffen and my stomach clench. I cannot believe this is happening. I tilt my head back, he grunts over my shoulder as he keeps me pinned between the door of my room and his heated body.

“Stop,” I beg and cry out. It’s all becoming too much. I start to feel as though I’m drowning and suffocating all at once. I’m drowning in my own sorrow and suffocated by the dirt building upon me. I push against him, showing my fight. “Get off me!” I scream and his fingers stop their drive.

Jonah falls away from me. Horrified, he takes a stumble backwards. His hands hang limply as I fall against the dresser and sink onto the floor. He doesn’t move, just remains staring at me as my breakdown unfolds. He might have left me physically, but he left an almighty imprint deep down to my soul.

“Hey,” he says, trying to elicit a response out of me. “Joely,” he continues, but I’m void of any energy for reactions. “Get up!” he commands, kicking a foot into me to get me to move, but I’m shut off. “Now!” he shouts, his voice quaking.

I think my silence and disarray for what’s happen scares him most.

I feel the door open, it hitting me as Jonah seeks a quick escape. The door doesn’t shut, it remains ajar; the noise from outside flittering in, but none of it affects me. My body’s barely registering that I am alone right now. I just feel like a betrayer. I’ve gone against everything I believe in, forced to do so to save Jace from more hurt, but I never thought about myself.

I stare forward, catching sight of my defiled body in the glass bedside cabinet. I hardly move, just reach down to pull the skirt of my dress over me. It’s too late to preserve my modesty, but I can try to wrangle some of it.

My movements are
lackluster and before I know it, I’m just slumped staring at my own reflection. The life in me has left and while everyone is enjoying their time at the club, I feel like I’ve died inside. The multitude of everything has toppled, and I no longer feel a need to carry on as I was.

I don’t know how I’ll ever come back from what’s happened.

I see the light change outside the door in the mirrored surface opposite me and see the door open. I see a pair of legs and recognize the polished shoes, but I don’t look up, don’t react, and don’t invest time in communication.

Eli kneels down in front of me, taking away my view of my disgusted self. I don’t even look at him; I just continue looking through him, as if I can still see the mirror.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly, his voice light on my ears. “Clara’s letting me take you to mine. She doesn’t want you alone,” Eli whispers as he begins to pick me up off the floor. Wrapped in his jacket, he keeps me scooped up protected. I don’t realize he sneaks me out of the room without much attention, until the cool air from outside hits me. I don’t even acknowledge the heart Clara’s presented us with allowing me comfort and not punishment.