My devil, p.3
My Devil, page 3
Grabbing a fistful of his dull blue shirt, I lift him off the ground toward my face. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Piercing him with my dark eyes, I want to smash him into the next universe or wipe him from this one. The only reason I’m not is because Lace is standing right there.
Gulping, he finds his pathetic voice. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Anyone on this property concerns me.” Holding him tight, my eyes find Lace’s. She’s holding her cheek.
Fury unleashes, and I slam this cocksucker against the black wall, pressing my knuckles into his throat.
“You fucking coward. Does it make you feel like a man hitting a woman?”
His eyes falter for a second before becoming rigid. “She’s mine and I’ll do what the fuck I want with my woman.”
“I’m not your woman!” Lace walks toward us, rearing her arm back, punching him in the fucking nose. Blood spurts out and he whines like a fucking cat. Christ, she can punch. An added perk to the already gorgeous package.
Lace moves back swiftly and I haul him forward clasping his broken nose walking him to the side entrance where we deal with issues like this one. Cameras fail to work in this area, for good reason.
“No one hits Lace…” My fists land on his already broken face, not forgetting his stomach and side. He’s a slick, mamma’s boy pretending to be somebody. Let’s see if his mom can put him back together after tonight.
“You prick…” Moaning like the little boy he is, his hands try and attack me but he’s no match for my training. In reality, a strong breeze could blow this fucker down, he’s that thin.
“It’s your lucky day, I won’t kill you tonight.” A few more bones break, his ribs are like chalk. The cracking sound making me smile, sending adrenaline through my already hyped up body.
“You’ll pay for this, I promise.” Holding his nose with one hand, grasping his side with the other, he lands on his ass.
“Come here again and you won’t leave alive. That’s not a promise, it’s a fucking fact.”
I motion to the guard that is very discreet about his job, to get rid of the trash. The steel door bangs shut behind me.
I have to go and check on Lace and find out why this fucker is still hanging around.
This night just took an unexpected turn.
For better or worse, I’m about to find out…
Adrenaline surged through my veins when I first laid eyes on the prick. I wanted to kick him in the balls bringing him to his knees. Where he belongs…
Also, in the next second, I had wanted to run out the back and get far away from him but I couldn’t ‘cause I was trying out my new light show with Natalia’s act. I had assured her I would be ready to deliver a show the audience wouldn’t forget in a hurry. It was working perfectly too until he decided to converse with me.
I don’t understand why Leighton thinks I would want to be with him after walking in on his whore and him two months ago in my bed. He has shown up a few times over the last month trying to chat with me at work, stalking me at my apartment and one night recently barging through my front door hitting and punching me before I could even take in who he was or what the fuck was happening. Obviously the police have some allegiance to his family because he confronted me again—tonight.
Since removing myself from the hideous vision that won’t leave my brain, I’ve been trying to restart my adventure here in LA. Landing a job at The Gem isn’t the dream I was thinking about when I left Phoenix over a year ago with my ex-fiancé but it pays the bills and gives me time to go to auditions and practice my lighting skills first-hand.
Goose bumps overtook my body when Caden hauled his sorry ass up the wall. The size of his huge hand, tattooed with a tiger’s head had my heart beating wildly. I wished he would have squashed his thin neck in-front of me, so I knew this jerk was out of my life forever.
Is that disturbing?
Hell yes. But sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. My family certainly has taught me that.
How could he bring this to my work? Again…I need this job so I can eat and keep a roof over my head but I’ll be lucky to keep it. I know one thing, these deadly guys don’t tolerate any drama amongst the girls, so I’ll be expecting the call in tomorrow for my firing spiel.
I couldn’t face it tonight so I took off. I should have stayed to thank him but fleeing sounded like the easier option at four in the morning.
Curled up in the corner of the old double bed the apartment came with, my hair smells of fresh lime complementing the coconut candle I had been burning while I was in the shower, washing this damn day off me. My cheek throbs so I have to lay on my left side, so it doesn’t hurt. Closing my eyes, I think how the light show looked tonight with Natalia’s choice of music. It’s a small start but small steps lead to leaps and bounds.
My body jolts forward, startled by the banging on my door.
Crap, this cannot be happening. It’s nearly five a.m. I need sleep.
Limp dick had better not be on the other side or in less than a minute he will become dickless.
Stomping my feet toward the door, I’ve had enough shit for one day. I swing back the door ready to unleash my Krav Maga.
“Slow down little lady.” Mammoth hands wrap around mine before they land on his skin. It takes me a second to recognize these hands and who is standing in my doorway.
I gasp and my breath hitches. My widened eyes peel from the decorated hands, up to and across his large chest. I take a deep breath continuing to lift my gaze up to possibly the most beautiful yet fiercest face I’ve laid eyes on. His square jaw is covered in a few days’ growth and his green eyes spear into mine. A clamminess breaks out on my skin and my heartbeat skyrockets in less than a few seconds. What is he doing here?
“Can I come in?” His hands relax around mine marginally, but he doesn’t let go.
“Do I have a choice?” I blame lack of sleep for my rudeness.
“Everyone has a choice, Lacey. It’s just the consequences can vary because of the choices you make.” His deep voice unsettles me. I won’t let anyone call me Lacey. It was reserved especially for my mother, but it sounds not half bad coming out of his pink lips.
Letting go of my hands, I roll my eyes. Seriously, you think my boss could wait ‘til morning to fire me. Moving backward, I leave a gap for him to walk in. “Come in then.” My less than hospitable voice is dull. “Can I get you a coffee?” I shut the door and walk into the living room. I live in a very modest apartment on the outskirts of LA near Palmdale. The one bedroom and bathroom suit my needs fine. However, my skin is prickling and my breath is ragged as though I am claustrophobic in my own home. His sheer presence is sucking all the air from the room.
“Take a seat, I’ll switch the pot on.” Turning my back, I take a few steps to the kitchen area and start the coffee. “How do you take it?”
“Black.” A sharp but polite response.
Hmmm, a man of little words?
Getting out the mugs, I place some sugar in mine and return to the dwarfed table and chairs.
“So, you’re out kinda late or early. You couldn’t wait ‘til I came back tonight to fire me?” I deadpan, crossing my arms.
This makes him straighten his back. His arms are crossed too. His biceps bulge from beneath his suit jacket, which by the way he didn’t have on at the club, because I certainly would have noticed how fucking ravenous he looks in it.
“Fuck.” He runs his left delicious hand through his light brown hair that is a few inches long on the top of his head, but barely there on the sides. “You think I’m here to fire you?”
“I can’t think of another reason why you’d be at my apartment after hours.” The coffee maker starts spluttering from behind me. “Come to think of it, bosses don’t make house calls, so what the heck are you doing here, Caden?” I try not to sound like a bitch, but fail. I fiddle with the mound of hair tied up on my head releasing the band. Crap my scalp hurts when I tie it up like that. My hair falls down and I continue to stare at his harsh eyes. It’s as though the green in them swirl like a vortex pulling me down and into his darkened existence.
My fingers work through my hair, massaging my scalp. I don’t understand what’s taking him so long to answer. It’s an easy question.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” His harsh voice almost makes me look away from his sexy face, but I wiggle my toes under the table which always helps me focus. In this case, I need to listen to his words, not think about how good his hard body would feel next to mine. “If that piece of shit comes anywhere near you, you call security. And if you’re not at work, you call me.” The mention of Leighton pulls me back to reality—fast.
“Don’t think that’s gonna work.” I stand up to pour the coffee.
“And why’s that?” He crosses his ankles so his large feet encased in expensive black boots stick out from the other side of the table.
“‘Cause I don’t answer to anyone. Been there, done that. And, I’m not going back there. You put my ex in his place. I’m sure he won’t come near me again.” I place the coffee mug down in front of him. “But thanks for the offer and thanks for taking care of the douchebag tonight.” I try for a sweet smile, but I’m not really good at them, so I know I’m not fooling him.
“There isn’t a choice to this Lacey. That’s how it will be.” The calmness surrounding him while he drinks his coffee is making me skittish. Confidence oozes from him.
“What happened to – ‘we all have choices, Lacey.’”
A smirk creeps on his face as I try to mock him.
“As I said. Choices have consequences and this will be no different.” My head is swirling from his words. I don’t understand why he is here or why this couldn’t wait and why he thinks I am going to call him if I have a problem with Leighton. He’s my boss for fuck’s sake.
Weariness is catching up to me. I haven’t slept for almost twenty-two hours. My eyes become extremely heavy and my body slumps. I can’t take this guy on now. I need to be fully coherent to understand what he’s talking about. Consequences?
Standing up, it hits me then, my boss, one of the leaders of the notorious Savage Shadow crew is here demanding something from me, and I’m freaking in my unicorn pajamas. Fuck. Shoot me now. Humiliation doesn’t get any bigger than this.
“Can we do this tomorrow? As much as it’s been lovely to have you here, my eyes are about to close.” This vicious man needs to leave now before I say or do something wrong and I’m wrapped in a body bag never to be found again.
Getting up from his seat, he towers over my normal sized body and reaches into his back pocket, fiddling with his phone. “I have sent my direct phone number to your phone. Use it if you see him.” He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t move but his translucent green eyes scan my face. He reaches his fingers forward and touches my battered cheek.
Holding my breath, I am a statue. The soft touch that flows over my reddened skin is like velvet. A light tingling sensation runs down my neck, back, and legs. How can a man as powerful as Caden touch me so gently?
Before I can react, his touch is gone, and he is out the front door without a word.
Shaking my head, I rest my hand on my cheek where his fingers were. Those stupid flutters that have got me nowhere over the past month, take over my stomach. I should have jumped his bones. But then I would really be out of a job.
Resigning myself to dreams, I know what will fill my head in five minutes.
Clear green eyes and powerful tiger-tattooed hands…
“Fuck, there’s no better feeling than this.” There could be of course. Lace underneath me, taking my cock, that would be earth-shattering, but I still refuse to let myself go there, ‘cause once I do, there will be no going back…
Vibrations course through my body.
My eyes stare straight and my hips rock with the 850hp I have surrounding me. The car’s pushing my shoulders forward, ready to sprint out the gate like a racehorse, well eight hundred and fifty of them to be exact. Emerald’s been playing around with my 2018 Dodge Charger Hellcat. It didn’t need any fucking work done to it, but being Emerald, the owner of Tuff Customs and Slate’s queen, no, wasn’t an option. It sounds rough and malicious. I almost feel sorry for the competition tonight. Almost…
My left hand grips the wheel firmly and my right hooks over the gear stick. It’s been four days of torture since I saw Lace in the flesh. Every night though, she haunts my dreams. Her long, light lilac hair, her tight body wrapped up in a small five foot- six package, I crave to touch. Perfect curves where they should be. A huge handful of tits and hourglass hips ready for me to grip. Her crystal light blue eyes are unforgettable. Even her fucking unicorn pajamas are taunting me. The texture of her smooth, supple skin rendered me speechless.
Screeching tires echo through the car. “Motherfucker.” Point in question, she has my mind held hostage.
Pressing my foot on the pedal, the back swings out before it gains traction. Lucky for me a bad start won’t mean shit. This car can outperform most car’s standard. Emerald assures me the mechanical work she completed last week will make it even easier to cross the line first. The rear lights of the Mitsubishi Eclipse are dead straight ahead. Cars are parked along the outskirts of industrial areas of San Fernando and scouts keep the path clear for us to illegally street race. My breathing escalates and the pulse in my neck pumps fast. My hand shifts gears easily and I quickly gain on my competitor. He’s weaving across the road trying to make me uncertain where I should overtake his ride. But it doesn’t work. I’ve raced too many times to be tricked by this amateur move. My bumper is close to his now. In a split second, I go up his left side. My shoulders are tense, my eyes stay straight as my lime green hood nudges in front of his headlights. I know he won’t try any crap. No one will when we race, because they are scared that if they hit our car, we will unleash our full fury on them. They wouldn’t be wrong. Our reputation is hard to get past when you’re trying to find a competitor out here. It takes a cocky ass or someone who is new to the area to race us. Most regulars happily watch when we come out to the illegal races. Which isn’t often enough. Emerald even gets the downcast eyes when she’s trying to find an opponent to race nowadays. Scared pussies they all are.
Half my car is past his when there’s a loud bang from beside me.
“Fuck.” My voice echoes through the vehicle and my hands tighten on the wheel. Smoke’s escaping from the left front wheel of the other car. A tire pops and he’s not handling it well. The other tires squeal as he tries to hold the car straight. Swerving all over the road, I need to get out of his way instantly. Clutching the gear shift, I pull it down a gear, pressing the pedal as far as it will go. My body jerks forward and then pushes back in the seat when the Hellcat lurches forward. Sweat drips down my back. A few seconds later I’m past the finish line. Bodies run past as they head down toward the other guy.
What a fucking killjoy race tonight. I should have gone straight to The Gem.
De-accelerating quickly, I wish I had one of those parachutes on the back like drag cars to slow me down. A large boom fills the air and a fireball bursts out from under the hood. The driver and a few others who were quick are flung backward with the extreme explosion. Someone yells, “Nitrous” and that’s when I see everyone that was anywhere near the car run the opposite direction or take cover from parked cars, buildings, or bushes.
“Fuck.” Time to go. It’s another reminder of how lethal racing can be. I know you want to know, is the risk worth it?
Yes. Every fucking time…
Revving the engine, I drop the clutch and squeal the tires taking me out of this estate. There are about thirty others following suit. We know the drill. Within five minutes this place will be a ghost town. Even the owner of the now burning car will be gone.
I guess if I was being generous, I wouldn’t take the winnings from the guy who is now carless. But, that’s not me… I’ll be contacting Levi, who holds the money for our races, tomorrow.
Clicking the stereo on, Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” fills the car. The old school music pounds through my body clearing my head. It’s one a.m. and the streets heading back through to our LA apartment are still busy.
“Motherfucker.” James Hetfield is cut off with the ringing of my mobile, alerting me to my father calling me. He’s damn persistent.
“Dad,” I deadpan. I know what he wants, I just don’t want the same thing.
“It needs to be completed in five days.” His raspy voice irritates the hell out of me.
“What…no hello?” I can picture his blood pressure hiking up with my simple comment.
“This should have been done weeks ago, so don’t fuck with me, boy.”
“It will be done. I said I would, didn’t I?” Bullshitting him will only placate him for a short while and I think I’m out of time. My father runs a well established real estate business in the Malibu area but I wish that’s all he did. His uncanny personality to buy and sell homes, his cruel and merciless ways that are hidden behind closed doors definitely were passed down to me. Of course those traits didn’t show until he made a name for himself in the real estate business. “Let’s meet tomorrow.”
Up ahead the traffic is slowing, so I downshift. “Usual spot?” I really needed a few more races tonight to clear this head of mine.
“Eleven p.m., sharp.” The disconnected beep sounds and James and his bass guitar continues to play when he was so rudely cut off.
Absorbing the deepness of the rhythm, helping me to forget about my father, I put my foot down and make my way to The Gem. I need some pussy to clear my head.
Ninety-six hours and approximately forty-five minutes, but who’s counting, have passed since Caden was in my apartment, drinking coffee and telling me what to do. Why the heck did I offer him coffee? Fuck…
