In the past I’d had to do so almost daily. Convince myself of my worth, of who I was. But recently I had felt like I’d arrived, and now that girl so out of my league was ruining everything.
I pulled up in front of the Baton Rouge in the non-parking zone, ignoring the car behind me that honked. I threw open the door and got out of the car. The bouncer didn’t say a word about the hazardous way I had parked, only took a step back as I stalked past him without a word of greeting. I was almost sad the asshole hadn’t told me off. I wanted to break bones, wanted to maim and kill.
The inside of the brothel was stuffed with whores and their johns. There was false laughter and too sweet perfume. There was sweat and sex and smoke in the air. There was a tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I hated the red leather couches and red lacquer tables, but I wasn’t here for the design.
Some of the tightness in my chest loosened. This was familiar. This was what I needed. A few whores glanced my way then quickly away, hoping I’d choose someone else. Their refusal didn’t matter. I’d never cared for their opinion. I’d had them all and most of them were not worth my time. They couldn’t give me what I wanted, what I needed.
But there was someone who could, who liked to scratch and bite, who liked it hard and merciless.
Lola had turned away from her potential suitor, a fat asshole in a dark suit. I didn’t know the man, so he didn’t matter. I knew everyone who mattered in this town, everyone you shouldn’t cross, and most of them were clever enough not to get in my way anyway.
Fatguy clamped a meaty hand down on Lola’s thigh but she shook him off, and opened her legs wide for me. Her dress moved up, revealing a clean-shaven pussy, a piercing glittering in the dim overhead light. Fatguy glowered, then followed Lola’s gaze toward me. His expression fell. He quickly slid off his stool and disappeared from view, looking for another whore.
I didn’t give a fuck. I walked past the bar toward the back before I stepped into the second room on the right. It was vacant, but the smell of sex, disinfectant, and rubber lay heavy in the air. I stalked toward the bed and seconds later the door closed behind me.
“Hard day,” Lola said in a raspy voice. No question—a statement. She knew better than to ask questions. I knew she was close when the smell of stale and fresh smoke closed around me. When she didn’t have a drink or a dick in her mouth, she was smoking.
I turned. Her lips were coated in red lipstick, looking glossy and false. Everything about her did. Her black hair, dyed too many times, fell straight down her back, held down with hairspray and whatever else women used to make their hair do things it wasn’t meant to do. Her lips twisted into a flirty smile, while her eyes, rimmed with too much makeup, flickered with eagerness. Oh yes, she liked it.
She wasn’t out of my reach.
I grabbed her arms and twisted her around, then threw her down on the bed. My hand tangled in her hair, pulling hard as my other hand opened my zipper, pulled down my pants, then shoved up her skirt and drove into her in one sharp merciless thrust. She cried out, in pain or lust, I didn’t know, didn’t care. She twisted her arms back, raked her long nails over my thighs, drawing blood. I hissed and fucked her harder, and harder until the image of porcelain skin left my mind, until I was back to being who I was meant to be.
A monster, nothing else.
CHAPTER NINE
Cara
I was woken by a sound I couldn’t place. Like claws on wood. My eyes flew open, staring up at a white ceiling, not my canopy bed. A few dark stains dotted the white that was actually more gray, as if someone had swatted flies or mosquitos and not bothered to clean up afterward. Confusion slithered through my sleepy mind, and then everything that had happened came crashing down on me. I jerked into a sitting position. It took a moment before I figured out the noise I’d heard. The dogs. They were in front of my door again. Sniffing, scratching.
I really needed to go to the toilet, but with the dogs waiting for me that was out of the question. Not that I even knew where the bathroom was.
I stood slowly, legs shaky, and peered out of the small window. It looked out into a small garden. The lawn hadn’t been mowed in a while and like the house, the garden, too, was devoid of any decoration. Someone was screaming in the neighboring house. A woman, followed by a man. The same couple I had overheard last night.
I leaned against the windowsill, analyzing my surroundings. I’d always been good at math. I liked things neat and predictable. And where had all my well-laid-out plans gotten me?
The fence caging in the garden was topped with barbed wire. Could I get over it? Probably not without hurting myself badly, and then Growl would just have to send the dogs after me and they’d follow the trail. And what about the neighbors? Would they help me hide, or would they just call Growl in hope of a reward? Probably the latter considering the people I had encountered so far.
The door screeched. I whirled around, body tensing with fear. Growl stepped inside, his eyes landing on me. I quickly covered my bra with my arms.
He seemed less unhinged than last night, and though his gaze slid over my half-naked upper body, his expression didn’t show any reaction. His right forearm was bandaged where I’d cut him. Above it there were more marks. Scratches that I didn’t remember inflicting, but I’d been in a panic so I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d done. He followed my gaze briefly but didn’t react. He didn’t seem to resent me for injuring him. I hoped that was a good sign.
“You are awake,” he said in a low voice. He’d never raised his voice the few times I’d heard him speak, but his words carried enough power anyway.
I huffed at his statement but didn’t say any more. The pressure on my bladder was growing close to unbearable. Behind Growl, two massive dogs appeared. They only reached his knees but considering Growl’s stature, that was more than a little intimidating. What was worse: they were panting and giving me a good look at their sharp teeth. They were definitely some kind of fight dogs. And judging by the scars on their faces and the rip in the ear of the black one, they’d fought a few battles. Growl put a backpack I hadn’t noticed down on the ground between us. “I got a few things for you from your house.”
My house. I tried to conjure up an image of my cozy, beautiful home but images from last night were all I could come up with, and I’d rather not remember my house at all than like that. I stepped forward. “Did you see my mother and sister? How are they?”
Growl frowned. “No. They aren’t my concern.”
“But you must know something, anything. What did Falcone tell you before you came to our house?”
“I didn’t ask Falcone what his plans were. You shouldn’t ask so many questions. I don’t have the answers,” he said tersely and was about to turn around.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I babbled. I felt ashamed that I had to ask someone if I was allowed to go to the bathroom.
Growl paused, frown deepening. “Then why didn’t you go?”
I almost laughed. “Because I don’t know where it is and I thought I was supposed to stay in the room.”
“You can walk around the house whenever you want. I won’t lock you into your room. You aren’t a child.”