A Devious Descent (The Deviants #1)

CHAPTER 3

Frankie

T he Lost Cause Tavern is a small hidden treasure. During the week, it’s home to farmers, construction workers, and anyone who is too tired to cook but still wants a home-cooked meal.

Butch owns the place, but he refuses to hire a cook, so he makes everything himself. The menu is small, but the food is fantastic.

We walk through the door and push our way to the bar. A couple guys we went to high school with are arguing over a pool game. One of them stops mid-sentence and calls out to Jess. “Hey Jess, I’m still waiting for that date you promised me.”

“I didn’t promise you anything, Tyler,” Jess says as she leans over the bar, grabbing an olive and popping it in her mouth.

Tyler turns his attention to me. “Can’t you talk to her for me, Frankie?” he pleads, making prayer hands and giving me puppy dog eyes.

I shake my head. “You’re a persistent one Tyler, I’ll give you that.”

Mandy, the bartender, has already started mixing our drinks. “Two whiskey cokes for two pretty ladies,” she says, handing them to us, along with two shots of fireball.

“Bottoms up, bitch!” Jess exclaims as we clink our glasses together before downing our shots.

Even though we live in a town too small for a stoplight, the population nearly doubles on the weekends. Especially in the warmer months. Many people from larger cities have cabins here because of all the lakes, and over the years they discovered this tiny piece of heaven.

Butch brought a band in tonight, so it’s even more packed than usual. Most of the bands who play here are made up of retired men living out their dreams, but tonight the stage is graced with the Walmart version of Maroon 5. They don’t sound too bad and a couple of them are kinda cute.

We head to the dance floor with our drinks and Jess playfully dances in front of the guitar player, flashing him a killer smile. “I’m setting the bait,” she says to me as the guitar player winks at her. She’s like the emo version of Jessica Rabbit.

Chuckling to myself, I close my eyes and sway my hips to the beat, letting the music take me away. Music has always been like therapy to me. Jess’ parents bought me an iPod when I was younger. I would sit at her computer for hours downloading music on it. It helped me block out the fighting at home, making life a little more bearable.

Jess grabs my hand as we sing obnoxiously to the music, which is thankfully loud because we sound like a herd of dying cows. I was hoping Nate would’ve shown up by now. “I’m gonna call my brother,” I yell over the music.

“Sounds good. I’m gonna go say hi to Tyler,” Jess yells back before heading toward the pool tables. Poor guy. She’s just using him to make the guitar player jealous.

I step outside to call Nate. I can’t believe I haven’t heard from him yet. He usually checks in with me if he’s not going to be home. The phone goes to voicemail. “Hey shithead! I don’t care if your balls deep in some blonde bimbo, you need to get your ass to the tavern. They have a decent band playing tonight.”

I follow the message up with a text.

Seriously, Nate! Where the hell are you?

I imagine him laying in a ditch somewhere before quickly scolding myself. It’s only been a day, I’m sure he’s fine. Although he could at least call me back. Jerk!

I growl in frustration as I close my eyes, resting the back of my head against the side of the building. Where the hell could he be?

A deep voice makes me jump, nearly sending my heart into my throat. It’s the kind of voice that makes your toes curl. The kind that would have you on your knees with just a few words. “You better be careful, little one. That big growl of yours might scare everyone off.”

My eyes fly open. A man who is at least a foot and a half taller than I am stands in front of me. The moon illuminates his face just enough to reveal his strong jaw and devilish smirk. The hood of his black sweatshirt is pulled up, making it difficult to see much else.

But it doesn’t matter. I highly doubt I could focus on anything other than the amber eyes currently burning into mine. I swear the flames in his eyes briefly turn black before turning amber again. Even the shadows can’t hide their intensity and danger lurking within.

“S…Sorry,” I stutter. “I thought I was alone.”

The man steps closer to me, placing a hand on the brick wall beside my head. The heat radiating off his body ignites a fire in mine, burning me up from the inside out. His scent carries a hint of charred wood, like a campfire that had burned down to the coals. His eyes trail over every inch of me, leisurely taking in my bare legs, the crease between my breasts, my neck. He stops when he reaches my mouth as I instinctively wet my lips. Darkness spreads from his pupils, turning his eyes black, like he’s possessed. Damn, this man is so hot I’m starting to see things.

I’m painfully aware of how revealing this stupid skin-tight dress is, knowing the french-fries and cheeseburger I ate earlier are showing. Normally I don’t care about that; I think soft, little tummies are cute, but the way this man is staring at me is making me suddenly self-conscious.

His eyes return to their amber glow as he brings them up to meet mine. “We are alone,” he purrs.

I blink. My God. Is it possible to have an orgasm from one look? I feel my insides tighten as I rub my thighs together. Why is this incredibly attractive man talking to me in the first place? I’m sure he can have anyone he wants.

I continue staring into his eyes, mesmerized. I try to think of something clever to say, but of course I have no luck. The only thing leaving my mouth is a pathetic little squeak.

The corner of his lips pulls up in amusement as he brings them to my ear. I nearly moan as his breath sweeps across my skin, sending goosebumps over my body. His presence reminds me of a wolf sizing up his next meal as I arch my neck, giving him full access.

What is wrong with me?

The growl I’m met with is deadly. “You should get inside. It’s dangerous out here.”

He steps back, breaking the connection. I blink rapidly, stealing my spine as shivers run down it like a thousand spiders skittering across my skin. I quickly turn, thankful I’m wearing my converse and not the shoes Jess suggested. With my luck, I’d fall flat on my face with those heels on.

I will my legs to walk calmly and not sprint to the door like the chickenshit I am. I’m determined not to let the sexy stranger see me this nervous or aroused.

Once inside, I lean against the door, now feeling cold without his burning presence. My adrenaline fades, letting me breathe easier as I wonder what he was doing in the alley. He doesn’t seem like the small-town bar type.

Jess is still talking to Tyler, so I stop by the bar and order two more whiskey cokes. The front door bangs open, and I look over, hoping the man from outside followed me in.

No luck. It’s just a cute couple holding hands and making me want to puke. I don’t know why I want to see him anyway. He has trouble written all over him.

“Frankie!” Mandy says, pulling me back to reality.

I grab the drinks from her hand. “Thanks, girl. Can you put them on my tab?”

She points to the two guys near the end of the bar. “Too late, the Chads already took care of it.” I smile to myself. We have code names for the out-of-towners. If she names them Chad, it means they’re harmless, but man children.

“I guess I should go thank them,” I say, but change my mind when one bites his lower lip, looking at me like I’m a snack. “Gross,” I scoff, looking back at Mandy who looks like she has the heebie jeebies just as much as I do.

I decide to simply nod my head in their direction, forcing a polite smile. The other Chad makes a V-shape with his fingers and sticks his tongue between them, earning a high-five from his friend.

I pretend to gag as Mandy gives them a dirty look. “Gross is an understatement,” she says. “I’ll be sure to ward them off.”

The band announces they’re taking a break, so I sit at an empty table near the dance floor. I should say hi to Tyler and his friends, but I hate small talk. Jess sees me anyway and comes over. I’m about to tell her about the guy in the alley when the hot guitar player and the drummer take a seat next to us.

The guitarist takes Jess’ hand in a gentle handshake as they start an awkward conversation.

“Brent,” the guitarist says.

“Jessica,” Jess coos in a breathy, sexy voice.

“Single?”

“For now.”

“Interested?”

“Maybe. You?”

“Very.”

I look at the drummer; he doesn’t have the dangerous allure of the amber-eyed stranger, but he’s kinda charming. “Does your friend have more than four words in his vocabulary? Because apparently mine forgot how to string sentences together.”

The drummer, whose name turns out to be Micah, laughs. “Words are hard for him, but I think he might be up to ten now.”

Brent chuckles and slugs Micah in the shoulder. We continue chatting until the break is over and the band goes on stage to play their second half of their set. Jess fills me in on an after party they invited us to. I sigh internally as I realize it’s going to be a long night. My introverted self will definitely need to sleep for days after this.

We finish our drinks and head back to the dance floor. I catch myself looking at the door often, hoping my stranger will return. I’m sure he’s off scaring unsuspecting victims with his deep, manly voice.

I replay that sexy deep voice in my head as I dance to the music, minding my own business, when I feel someone’s junk press into my tailbone. I turn around, taking a step back. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “I hope you enjoyed that, because that’s the closest you will get to getting lucky tonight.” I internally cringe, apologizing to my poor ass for letting Chad touch it.

Why do guys think dancing means humping like an adolescent dog who isn’t neutered? I’ve given no signals indicating I’m interested in being humped.

He must realize what a douchebag he looks like because he opens his eyes and says, “What’s wrong baby? Don’t you want to dance with the Champ?”

I make a point to look around the bar for someone worthy of the title. “Sure. Where’s the Champ?”

Chad opens his arms wide before slapping his chest like he’s Tarzan. “You’re looking at him.”

I hold back a laugh. He actually believes himself. Chad really doesn’t know how to read a room. “I’m not interested.”

“Sure you are, baby. You just need a little convincing.” He places his hands on my hips.

“Get your hands off me!” I try backing up, but the douchebag tightens his grip and pulls me against him. He smells nothing like my stranger. Instead of burning coal, it’s axe body spray and body odor. I press my hands to his chest and push, trying to get away. “I’m serious. Back the fuck up.”

Instead, he grinds his pencil dick into the front of me. “You like it rough, baby? I could make you feel so good,” he says before licking me like a goddam dog. The asshole LICKED ME! So much for warding them off, Mandy.

“No means no, asshole!” I try bracing my feet, pushing with all my might, but he doesn’t budge. Little white spots float in my vision, blurring the scene around me. What’s happening? Is this what fainting feels like? I swear to God, if I pass out in Chad’s smelly arms I’m gonna be pissed. I finally glance up to see blood oozing from his eyes, his face twisted in agony.

“Your eyes,” he whispers. With a stunned look on his face, Chad grabs his head and turns around.

Why did he say your eyes? He’s the one who should be worried about his eyes. People gasp, scrambling out of the way as Chad stumbles off the dance floor.

“Dude, you’re bleeding,” someone says.

I hardly notice Chad Number Two flipping me off before following his friend to the bathroom. My whole body feels numb. Shivering, I try pushing down the rising panic. Did I cause the bleeding? If so, how? All I did was push him back. And why do my hands feel like they fell asleep? I shake them, trying to get the weird, buzzing feeling to leave.

Jess comes up, wrapping her arms around me. “Are you okay?” When she pulls away, her eyes go wide as they meet mine. “Woah, your eyes are like super green.”

“My eyes?” Her concern over my eyes confuses me because Chad’s eyes were literally bleeding. “Did you see his eyes?” My voice trembles as I try processing what just happened.

Jess puts her hands on her hips. “That guy is an asshole. Who knows what he does to girls who are too drunk to say no. He deserves to have his eyes clawed out.”

“I didn’t go near his face, though.” I shake my head. “I just pushed him off me. I don’t know what the hell happened to his eyes.”

Jess adjusts her nose ring. “Maybe he’s on drugs.”

“Maybe.” I don’t believe it though. Could a person really bleed from their eyes because of a drug?

Jess’ face falls a little. “Do you want to leave? We can go,” she says, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

No way am I leaving. Jess deserves a night out. She’s been working so hard lately. “Hell no! I’m not letting that d-bag ruin our night.”

Jess squeals in delight as I turn around, marching back to the bar. “Where’re you going?” she yells, following my path through the crowd.

Before I even reach the bar, Mandy gives me a sympathetic look. “I already told Butch. He said he’ll throw them out as soon as they get out of the bathroom.”

Sometimes I really love living in a small town. The locals always look out for each other. “Thanks, girl! I owe you one.”

The night continues without a hitch. By the time last call comes around, I forget all about the Chads.

We order one last round of shots. Brent leans into the microphone, giving us a shout out before downing his whiskey. Micah holds the glass up and winks at me before slamming his.

Twenty minutes later, we’re standing outside The Tavern.

“So ladies, what’s there to do around here?” Brent casually slings his arm around Jess’ shoulder.

“I thought we were going to an after party,” Jess says.

“Sounds like the dude Frankie beat up might be at the party, so we figured you guys would want to do something else.” Micah smiles, brushing my shoulder with his.

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t beat anyone up.” I’m still a little creeped out, so I’m thankful they want to ditch the party. Coming up with an idea, I add. “But I know the perfect spot.”

Jess knows exactly what I’m thinking, and a big smile spreads across her face. “It’s unusually warm out tonight.”

Fisherman’s Bridge is only a half mile from The Tavern. The weather is perfect, and the fresh air feels amazing after dancing in a hot bar all night.

Brent gives Jess a piggyback ride as she giggles at something he said. Micah looks at them, then turns to me with an expectant look on his face like he wants me to hop on his back too. I glance away, pretending I didn’t see the silent question in his eyes. Why am I so awkward?

“Here it is,” I say as we come to stop, finally reaching our destination.

“Here what is?” Micah looks at the old wooden bridge, which looks as if it might collapse at any second.

“This is Fisherman’s Bridge. We came here a lot in high school. If the water is cold, I’m sure we can find a way to warm up.” I give Micah a flirty look, trying to make up for brushing him off earlier.

Micah must like that idea, because he lifts my chin and plants a kiss right on my lips before stripping down to his boxers. “Let’s make some bad decisions.” Laughing, he shoves Brent. The last thing we hear before they jump is their “whoop, whoop,” followed by a satisfying splash.

Jess and I strip down to our bras and panties. “You ready?” Jess holds her hand out.

I take her hand in mine and smile. “Always,” I say before we jump off the bridge, landing in the cold water.

Floating on my back, I look at the stars, thinking of my stranger in the bar. I squeeze my thighs together, remembering the way he looked at me and the rumble of his deep voice when he told me it was dangerous there.

Obviously, he’s not from around here. The only danger in this town is getting stuck with the gross sprinkled donuts if you get to the gas station too late on a Sunday.

“Frankie! Get your ass up here,” Jess yells. I blink a few times realizing everyone else is already out of the water.

“Coming!” I swim to shore, shivering as I get out of the water. Jess is pulling Brent’s T-shirt over her head, as the boys work on starting a fire in the pit the locals dug in years ago.

“I didn’t know city boys knew how to make a fire. I’m impressed,” I tease, slipping on my dress, strategically removing my wet bra and underwear so I don’t flash anyone.

Micah grins, revealing perfectly straight white teeth, the kind you only get from braces. “I guess those summer camps my parents sent me to as a kid are finally coming in handy.”

“I guess they are.” He really is cute, and cute is exactly what I need. There is no reason for me to think about my sexy stranger. Cute is good; sexy is bad.

“Hell yeah,” Micah whoops as flames come to life. He sits back, looking proud of himself.

“Finally, I gotta take a leak.” Brent heads into the shadows.

Jess quickly jumps up. “I better go help him,” she exclaims. “Hopefully he needs help holding it up.”

I bust out laughing. I freaking love drunk Jess, even though she left me all alone to stare awkwardly at Micah.

“Sooo, how’s it going?” I try putting my hands in my pockets, only to remember I don’t have any.

Micah smirks. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me to the ground, so I’m sitting with my back to his chest. “I thought we could keep each other warm,” he whispers in my ear before nibbling on it. I like the sound of that.

Micah slips his hand through the top of my dress and squeezes my breast. The warmth of his palms feels good against my cold, pebbled nipple. I reach both arms over my head, playfully pulling his hair, while arching my back, silently giving him permission to go further.

Micah uses his other hand to run his fingers up my leg before attempting to find my clit. Using the very tip of his index finger, he focuses on a spot about a centimeter away. “You like that?” he murmurs.

Do I like what? Having a fingertip size piece of flesh rubbed raw? I’m almost thankful he can’t find my clit. I nod my head, not knowing what to say as I try nudging his hand in the right direction. I wish there was a class for those who don’t own a clit explaining the chances of finding the little nub increase greatly if you use a larger surface area to find it.

I know I should just push his hand down, leaving him no choice but to use his palm, but I’m too embarrassed. Instead, I close my eyes, imagining his fingers belonging to the stranger with amber eyes. I rock my pelvis back and forth, pretending I’m pressed up against the side of a building, riding someone else’s hand.

Just when he finds the magical bundle of nerves, he pulls away. What the hell? My eyes snap open as Micah groans, his hands holding both sides of his head.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“No. My head might explode,” he mumbles, rubbing his temples.

What? How is this happening for the second time? It has to be a coincidence. His eyes aren’t bleeding. He probably gets headaches all the time.

“Hold on. I have some Advil.” Blood rushes to my head when I stand up. I wobble slightly before steadying myself. Maybe that last shot was a bad idea.

I shake my hands, hoping to get the feeling back into them. With numb fingers, I manage to retrieve two tablets from my purse. Why are my hands feeling so weird tonight?

I hand the tablets to Micah. He swallows them without water, groaning as he lays back against a stump.

Jess and Brent stroll over, hand in hand. Jess has a doe-eyed look on her face, and I already know I’m going home alone.

“What’s wrong with you, dude?” Brent asks Micah.

“I don’t feel so hot. I think I’m getting a migraine.”

Jess shuffles over to me, bumping her hip to mine with a wicked grin on her face. “Brent asked me to stay with him tonight. You should come with.”

I’m not going to be a third wheel while Micah sleeps off his migraine. I yawn, stretching my arms overhead. “I’m tired, but you should still go. One of us might as well get laid tonight.”

My bed sounds comfortable anyway, and I know B.O.B. (my battery-operated boyfriend) will be an excellent companion for the night.