Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2024 Piper Rhodes

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0959-8

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: CA Clauson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To all the knotty girls. You know who you are.

  THE TIES THAT BIND

  Piper Rhodes

  Copyright © 2024

  Chapter One

  Elle curled inward, hugging her elbows and willing herself into the smallest shape she could take. Everything about this place was too much. Too loud, too full, too dark and dank. If the bar was going for a sunken ship vibe, it nailed it. The old wooden planks of the building were porous and molding, holding in the rank scent of sweat, sick, and seamen. And she didn’t just mean the drunken sailors at the other end of the curved flattop.

  Tables were scattered haphazardly like chipped seashells in sand, their tops battered and pockmarked. She watched ghostly figures through the gloom from her perch on a stool at the farthest end of the bar. Laughter and shouting echoed around the cavernous room in sharp bursts like cannon blasts.

  She cursed and took another sip of her drink to calm her nerves. This wasn’t the kind of place that served elaborate fruity cocktails, so she was stuck nursing a frankly disgusting whisky something or other and trying not to add to the vomit stains on the floor.

  Where the hell was Sarah? Her former roommate and (possibly former friend, at this rate) had suggested this dive as an “adventure.” Why go to one of the boring college bars on the strip, she’d said, when we could check out a real sailor bar on the docks? Never mind that it was the Friday before finals week, and Elle still had approximately 100 hours of studying to cram into the next two days. Or that there was probably a damn good reason the other college students stayed away from this place.

  She checked her phone, unsurprised to see one of Sarah’s infamous “be there in five!” texts that actually meant she just started getting ready. They would have carpooled if Elle didn’t come straight from dinner with her folks. When they asked if she had plans tonight, she lied and said she had a group study date planned at the library. Her suburban, white collar parents would never approve of her setting foot in a place like The Dropped Anchor.

  A glass tipped over the edge of a table and shattered, raucous laughter followed, and two more exploded across the floor in its wake. Elle pulled her long hair over her shoulder and let it fan out in front of her face. It wasn’t the best hiding spot—the vibrant red was practically a beacon wherever she went. Between that and her light blue sundress, sensible sandals, and beachy woven purse, she was doing a terrible job of blending in.

  At least after freshman year she had the sense to start going by Elle instead of her given name, Arielle. She would never forgive her parents for naming their red-headed daughter after a little mermaid. Schoolyard taunts as a kid were one thing, but douchey college guys absolutely went to town with the terrible mermaid pick-up lines. Everything’s better down where it’s wetter. We were mermaid for each other. Are those seashells? Cuz they look bigger than B-shells! Do you have crabs?—not sure why implying she had an STI was meant to be attractive, but okay. I’ll spear you with my king’s trident. She’d told that guy he was taking the “daddy” thing to literal incest levels, and also that he should probably see a doctor if his dick was split into thirds, but he didn’t find it as funny as she did.

  She tossed back the remainder of her drink, only gagging a little, she was proud to note, and gathered her purse and jacket, deciding to hide in her car until Sarah arrived. And then forcibly relocate her if needed. Her butt was barely an inch off the stool when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. She dropped back into her seat with a surprised huff.

  “Come often?” Elle looked up and nearly headbutted the squat man leaning over her. His hand slid off her shoulder as he maneuvered himself onto the empty stool next to her, droopy eyes drinking her in from head to toe.

  She scooted to the edge of her stool, putting as much space between herself and the slurring stranger as she could. Unfortunately, she didn’t get too far, bumping into someone standing on her other side. She was boxed in. “Did you ask if I come here often?”

  “I asked if you come often. Doesn’t have to be here, but that can certainly be arranged.” He waggled his eyebrows, or tried to, at least—they kind of jerked once before falling limply back into place over his hooded eyes—and leaned closer. “What’s your name, beautiful?” It came out as wassur nam, booful.

  Elle recoiled as his foul breath rolled over her in a hot fog. Nope. Nope-ity nope nope. “I was actually just leaving.”

  “But going is the opposite of coming!” He guffawed and slapped the countertop, clearly proud of himself. Dealing with unimaginative pick-up lines from pseudo-intellectual frat boys suddenly seemed like a fun bout of verbal judo compared to this barnacle.

  “Congratulations on your grasp of synonyms and antonyms.” She yanked her jacket out from where he sat on it.

  “You smell like cinnamons,” he sing-song slurred, righting himself. His clammy hand latched on to her jacket, refusing to let go.

  Was she really going to have to play tug of war with a drunk sea-dog? “Let go, please.” She gave a little tug.

  He wrapped the material around his wrist, strengthening his grip. “No.” His attempt at a flirty smile took on a mean edge that sent warning shivers down Elle’s back. She knew she should just ditch the jacket and run, but it was her favorite distressed denim, perfectly worn and actually long enough to cover her lengthy torso. She could even raise her arms above her head without it turning into a crop top. Plus, she hated bullies.

  “I’m leaving.” She wedged her way off the bar stool, and he took the opportunity to yank her in closer. Off balance, she nearly landed in his lap. His free hand snaked around her waist. “Let. Go. Now,” she enunciated slowly.

  “Now why would I let go when I’ve found such a treasure?” His hand began to dip lower on her back.

  She didn’t know which made her sicker, the creep groping her in full view of the entire bar, or the fact that he was really going to make a booty pun while he did it. She dropped her jacket and worked on peeling him off her like the disgusting jellyfish he was. He was stronger than she’d anticipated. Stickier, too.

  Elle reached for a half full glass on the bar and flung it in the creep’s face. He howled, choking on the amber liquid as his features twisted in rage. He grabbed the now empty glass from Elle and hurled it to the floor at her feet. She cringed as it shattered, and she could feel tiny cuts crisscrossing her bare ankles.

  “You’re going to pay for that, you stupid bitch.”

  ****

  Alec nursed a drink and a hangover at the small table in the furthest corner of the bar. Neither helped the throbbing in his temples, his rapid pulse pounding in his eyelids. Nor did either provide the clarity he desperately needed. Here he was, moping around like one of the other sad sacks that frequented this place where dreams came to die and hope offed itself in the process, when he should be finding a way out of this mess. A way to save his sister.

  He wiped his bleary eyes and stretched, groaning. At 6’2 and 200 pounds, he was a big enough guy that no one harassed him about claiming a table all to himself. Or maybe he just looked too pathetic to bother. How long had he been stuck here, dirty sweatshirt caught on the jagged beams behind him, staring off into the nothingness that was his future? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he should just keep drinking until he rotted here, another skeleton in a bar full of them.

  A flash of red caught his attention, the only color in a gray world. He squinted to make sure he was seeing clearly.

  “I’ll be damned.” He pulled himself upright, running a hand through his dark brown curls. What was she doing here? Of all the hell holes in all the slums in all the world, she walks into mine. Not his, exactly, but still, the point stood. Arielle Keller was in the last place she ought to be. The Dropped Anchor was no place for an innocent little college girl like her. Didn’t she know her being here was akin to throwing chum into a pool of sharks?

  He watched her with predatory eyes. She was clearly uncomfortable. What madness had brought her here, tonight of all nights? A thought formulated in the deepest, wickedest crevices of his brain. He tried unsuccessfully to shy away from the darkness, but the plan blooming in his mind was so crystal clear. He needed her. It was the only way to get his sister back.

  Alec ditched the dingy sweatshirt and smoothed back his hair. There wasn’t anything he could do about the day’s—days’?—old stubble, but if she was in a place like this, maybe being a little grungier than usual would work in his favor. Glass shattered, though that wasn’t especially uncommon here. The frightened shriek she couldn’t quite contain, however, immediately cut through the din. Alec’s eyes narrowed into slits, zeroing in on the sopping wet bastard manhandling Arielle. All rational thought fled his mind as he charged through the bar. His entire being focused on the dead man standing in front of him.

  “Get your hands off her,” he growled, stretching to his full height and glaring down at the insignificant excuse for a man below. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

  “This is none of your business—” The other man’s eyes bugged out when he saw Alec, and he slowly extracted his hands from around the poor girl’s waist, raising his arms in surrender. It made him look like a particularly startled praying mantis. Alec considered crushing him. He was in the mood for violence.

  One look at Arielle and he knew that wasn’t the right move. She was already scared. If he had any hope of getting her to go home with him tonight, he would have to play this a little softer. He tamped down the aggression and gave the insect a curt nod, allowing him to scurry away unharmed.

  “Are you all right?” His voice was a gentle caress, though a rough edge remained. Seeing her cowering against the bar was doing something unexpected to him. His stomach clenched at the thought of her fear, and he resisted the urge to smooth the worried wrinkles from her brow.

  “I can’t—” her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t thank you enough.” Bottomless blue eyes gazed up at him, shining with unshed tears that she refused to let fall. She readjusted the thin strap of her dress, which had fallen down her arm in the struggle. The fact that she wasn’t a boneless puddle on the floor right now surprised him. For all her softness, she was surprisingly tough.

  “No thanks needed. It was the right thing to do.” The faux selflessness coated his tongue like the oily line it was. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “Oh!” Someone jostled her from behind, and he almost bit the guy’s head off. He reached out a steadying arm instead, careful to keep his touch as light as possible. He felt her tense at his touch. “I think I just want to go home.” She couldn’t hide the tremor in her hand when she reached for her belongings. Clearly, her fight or flight gauge was still at a hundred.

  “Do you need a ride? It doesn’t seem like you should be driving right now.” She stiffened at the suggestion, and he quickly changed course. He backed up a step to give her space. “Or maybe we can just sit for a while? I have a table over there.” He pointed to the calm corner of the bar he’d staked out for himself. “It’s a lot less crowded, and you can actually enjoy your drink instead of throwing it at assholes.” He gave her what he hoped was a nonthreatening grin. “We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m a shitty conversationalist anyway.” That got him a small smile.

  He waved over the bartender. “Can we get two waters, please?” He turned to Arielle. “Unless you need something stronger?”

  “Just water, please.”

  Alec threw a couple bucks on the counter and picked up the proffered glasses, hoping he wasn’t about to get e coli. Banishing that thought (and surreptitiously rubbing a smudge from the lip of one glass), he glanced back at Arielle as he weaved his way back to his table. Now all he had to do was charm a traumatized girl into leaving with him, a complete stranger. He stifled a groan. This plan was never going to work.

  Chapter Two

  The men sitting nearest Alec’s table were slumped over in their chairs, too plastered to register the gorgeous woman across from them. It made for peace and quiet in their cozy alcove. It also helped reduce the number of possible witnesses. He didn’t need it getting out that he was spending time with Arielle, or Elle, as she’d introduced herself. Especially if his stupid, terrible plan didn’t work.

  Elle’s arms were crossed and her back pressed against the wall. He tried not to notice that the pose pushed her amazing tits front and center. She nibbled her bottom lip, and he felt his cock twitch in response. Dammit. The last thing he needed was to get himself worked up over her in that way. Those baby blues caught him looking, and he smiled sheepishly.

  “How’re you doing over there?” What he really wanted to ask was, do you know your parents are monsters? Or are you as innocent as you look?

  “Better, now.” She stopped working her lower lip to offer him a tiny smile in return. “Thank you again. Sorry I went all damsel on you.”

  “No problem. You know guys, we need to pound our chests and fling shit at each other from time to time. Makes us feel good.”

  “So you’re basically semi-evolved monkeys?” She pushed an errant piece of hair behind her ear. Alec found himself wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

  “I never said anything about being evolved, so thanks for that.” He thumped his chest once. “Me man. Me help pretty girl.”

  Her tinkling laugh filled his ears as she shook her head. “Wow. Does this cave man bit usually work on women?”

  He leaned in just a little. “I guess we’re about to find out.” Slow down, man. Don’t scare her. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. If anything, you did me a favor.” She raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “I had a rough day, and I don’t feel bad about taking it out on a sub-human jerk. It was a nice release valve.”

  She nodded, absorbing his explanation. “Want to talk about it?” She was leaning in now, too.

  Your drug-lord parents have my sister, and I’m thinking about kidnapping you to use as leverage. Any thoughts? He mentally shook himself. “Just … family drama.” He didn’t—couldn’t—say any more, and she seemed to understand.

  She inched one dainty hand across the table, tentatively patting the top of his callous-roughened paws where they rested against his glass. A shock of electricity raced up his arms, raising goosebumps and making him shiver imperceptibly. Did she feel that, too?

  He took a steadying breath, inhaling her faint cherry blossom scent. Of course. She was gorgeous and she smelled like his favorite pie. If only he could take a bite…

  Stop it. He couldn’t let this girl get in his head. She was leverage, plain and simple. No use in falling for her when there was no universe where they end up happily ever after. Not after what he had to do to her. But if her hating him was the price he had to pay to get his sister back, he would bear it gladly.

  “Family stuff can be so rough. I’m sorry about whatever it is you’re dealing with.”

  If she only knew. “Tell me about your family,” he said. Maybe it would help him gauge what her level of involvement was in the family business, if any. Make it a little easier for him to do what he needed to do.

  “Oh, we’re pretty boring.” She laughed self-consciously. “My dad is a surgeon, my mom a nurse. I’m supposed to go into medicine, but honestly, I think I’m way too squeamish. Body stuff just makes me…” She shivered and made an exaggerated face, squeezing her eyes shut and wiggling her nose.

  Alec resisted the urge to tell her he’d have no problem helping her get past her squeamishness if she wanted to play doctor with him. He wouldn’t mind examining every inch of her body, kissing his way up her legs, massaging her ass, gently probing her most sensitive place with his fingers and tongue. He found himself imagining those luscious lips wrapped around his cock, taking him in, caressing his shaft until he begged for mercy. The thought made him hard, and he shifted abruptly to hide his growing excitement. Not gonna happen.

  “Would your folks settle for dental school instead?” he joked.

  The way she threw her head back when she laughed brought a broad smile to his face. He wanted her to laugh at his jokes. To like him. God dammit. Stick to reality, man. You need her to like you enough to get her home with you. After that she’s really gonna hate your ugly mug.

  “You’d better tell me if you’re a dentist before I answer that!” She playfully punched his arm.

  “With these teeth? Obviously not.” He made a show of baring his teeth like a beast.

  She leaned further across the table, ostensibly to get a better look. He willed himself to keep his eyes on hers instead of dipping to check out the spectacular view of her cleavage spilling out from the top of her dress. To his immense displeasure, he somehow found this view nearly as captivating.

 

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