Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
JADE
One week later
“I have a confession,” I blurt out, my foolishly blunt mouth getting the best of me yet again. I’m standing in Scar’s bedroom watching her as she changes into her chosen outfit for the night, a sexy as fuck faux leather mini skirt showing of her rockstar toned calves and perky little ass, and a white sleeveless crop top baring the perfect amount of cleavage. She almost traded the top for a less provocative looking one but being the awesome sister that I am, I’ve convinced her there is no better outfit for tonight. Afterall, it’s Ace’s birthday party and there is nothing he’d appreciate more than my sister, his girlfriend, in this outfit.
“What?” she asks nervously, taking a sip of the cocktail I handed her as I hold mine tightly in my hands, almost cracking the plastic cup as I anxiously await her reaction to what I’m about to say next. I blame the large amounts of tequila currently in my system for my impulsiveness tonight.
“I fucked Bass on New Years’ Eve!” I blurt out, Scar nearly choking on her drink and spitting it out as we watch it splatter all over the mirror. “Actually I also fucked him the first night you guys got to the cabin. When you and Ace were fucking like rabbits, it’s how I heard you guys. I was next door in Bass’ room. To tell you the truth, you’re guys moaning kind of got us going,” I shrug my shoulders and can’t help but laugh at the sheer look of terror currently plastered on her face.
I shiver slightly, as she blankly stares, her mood rapidly shifting to more of a solemn one. My outfit does nothing to warm me up, my turquoise strapless dress ends just above my thighs and the five-inch, stiletto heels make me tower over Scar as she remains barefoot.
“What the fuck Jade!” she shouts after a brief moment, throwing a box of tissues at me. I easily dodge it but lose my balance slightly in these fucking heels.
“I know, I know. I fucked up. God I fucked up, but God if it wasn’t fucking hot. Like holy shit the man knows just what to do.” I bite my lip, my eyes practically rolling back at the memory of Bass’s eyes, hands, and mouth on me.
“Wow, declaring your devotion to the big man. Must have been some crazy sex to turn you saintly,” Scar sneers mockingly, “Didn’t know you two were...”
“Oh fuck no!” I shout, shaking my head, “It was a one-time thing, obviously. Well two times or more. I mean he’s fucking gorgeous, and like I said a savage beast in the bedroom but fuck if I can stand being in the same room as him.” I walk over to the tequila bottle on her dresser pouring us each another shot. I’m going to need it; this conversation did not turn out the way I was expecting it to.
“Careful Jade sounds a lot like you like the guy. I mean I’m the number one example of how hot hate sex can be. It literally sums up my entire relationship with Ace, but with Bass, I mean is it possible to say he has more demons than Ace.”
“Fuck if that isn’t true. I mean the way he fucks, God it honestly felt like he wanted to fuck me to death. The choking, the restraints, the ass grabbing, squeezing, smacking. He’s fucking rough, I mean thankfully I’m no fucking virgin, cause ouch.”
“Okay I don’t need the gory details, Jade.”
“If not to my fucking sister, then who am I supposed to confess to.” We clink our cups together, gulping down the tequila in one swift drink.
“Do you like, like him?” she asks me, clearly cringing because of the tequila I know she hates.
Her question irritates me, not understanding why she’d think I’d actually like someone like Sebastian Silver. “What the fuck kind of question is that Scar, are we in middle school or something?” I ask, pouring myself another shot.
“Calm the fuck down, it was a question. Besides, didn't you want to talk about it?”
“The sex, nothing else,” I sneer. Bass is everything I despise, entitled, arrogant and downright fucking bossy. However, wrapped up in a deliciously, alluring package, he’s fucking dangerous and bad for my health, so obviously I’m obsessed.
“So you do have feelings for him?” she questions me. “You wouldn’t be getting so defensive if you didn’t care.”
I gasp utterly shocked, as I bring a hand up to lay over my heart. “Sis, you better than anyone knows this thing in here, supposedly keeping us alive, is incapable of ever feeling anything more than disdain for anyone who isn’t you and the guys. It has limited capacity, real bad turnaround time, and no current vacancies. Out of order, disconnected, not in service. Definitely never will be for a man, daddy dearest made sure of that. Though if he hadn’t, Roman secured it never will.”
“Never say never, Jade. I’m the perfect example of how much a good dick can change what we thought we believed.”
Oh what it is to be part of the 1%. A blessing in disguise or a magnificently beautiful curse. Either way what a godsend it must be to live life careless and carefree, untroubled by the world outside of your bubble of privilege. The ability to be oblivious to the struggles of the ninety-nine, to be unperturbed by the insignificant details and mediocrity of a common life. Anonymity or prestige. It’s all the same yet quite different, and these boys are infamously good at both.
The extravagance of the room around me, golden drapes, twinkling lights, Dom Perignon bottles of Champagne scattered around the room like a red plastic cup of sewer water—Pabst Blue Ribbon—was back home in Pleasant Hills. In a world where everyone wishes to stand out and be the shiniest mirrorball in the room, they are all mediocre streetlamps at best. Ordinary, abundant, and dull.
Except for them.
The four of them stand out in the brightly lit room not because of the luminosity of the light that radiates from them, but because of the cloud of darkness that looms overhead. Because of the residual scent of something putrid and corrupt that lingers in their wake.
These boys are the definition of eminence yet are the reflection of the wickedness flowing through their veins. They claim blood is thicker than water, but here it’s as thick as tar. Black, corrosive, and imprisoning.
Whether they are guilty by association or by free will, in my eyes the chosen are guilty until proven innocent. I’m not fully aware of the vile depravity of the world they reign over, but I can only imagine what it’s capable of given how much it has changed my sister.
However, the way his eyes, like small gleaming mirrorballs, linger on me as I dance atop the table, sensually swaying to the sultry beat of the song around me, where my girl Britney sings about the toxicity of the man she’s profoundly addicted to, I refuse to believe beauty is wicked. How can such a marvelous creature be malicious?
I feed off the energy radiating from his eyes, like a blazing fuel that ignites the temptress in me. Some would call me a nymphomaniac but I just call it human nature. Nothing is more natural than the need to find release at the hands of another. To let go of your inhibitions completely and achieve a level of ecstasy you will never achieve in any other way. The desire, the need to be close to him, to feel him, to be with him, is overpowering and turns me into a puddle of lost inhibitions and desperate want.
I break off our connection, the heat of his gaze melting my insides and turning me to mush, as I turn and watch my sister walking away and disappearing into the crowd with Ace and that pretentious bitch Carrington. Immediately curious to find out where they’re going, I jump off the table but instead of landing drunkenly on the floor, I fall into the arms of the unsuspecting villain.
Immediately my body grows stiff under his touch. The grip he has on my waist is the only thing keeping me from falling to the floor at his feet. I look up at him, his head hung low as he watches me drunkenly trying to keep my balance in these heels. Inhaling a breath, I close my eyes to stop the room around me from spinning, taking in the scent of maleness and musk emanating from him. Mixed in with the smell of liquor and something sweet and so him , it’s become my favorite scent. My body sways in his arms, his muscles contracting around me as my chest rises and falls against his. The tempo of the music slows, the harmonizing voice of an American Pop Star echoing against the walls, and suddenly I’m hypnotized by her vocals as she sings about getting undrunk and wishing she could unfuck her lover. Words have never bled more truth.
He holds my body close, refusing to let go as his hands roam over my waist, up my back and back down landing on my ass. I lean my head back, my neck rolling to the beat of the song as his lips come down on the exposed skin kissing it softly as he runs his tongue through the dip of my collarbone.
“Why go and follow them—” He blows softly, his breath hot, on the cleavage poking out between my breasts. “When you can be here with me doing this?” His tongue comes out to play, licking the beads of sweat sitting on the cleavage visible underneath my dress. His mouth softly sucks moving back up to my neck increasing both speed and intensity. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m covered in hickies by the time he’s finished, but in my drunken state I can’t seem to give a fuck.
“Keep doing that and I won’t have to look elsewhere,” I whisper breathlessly, my voice fading into the beat of the music. As if distracted by my admission his grip on me loosens, giving me the opportunity to sneak out of his grasp. I walk backwards into the small crowd that was allowed into the VIP section of the club and he follows, his body straightening and a fierce animalistic smirk appearing in place of his earlier inanimate frown. Like a monster in the dark, he creeps forward, his steps mimicking the pounding beat of my heart.
Though my fun is cut short when out of the crowd around us, Kinsley fucking Carlyle, the venomous snake comes forth slithering her way between us blocking his path to me, again. I swear she’s like a parasite you can’t get rid of, like a virus threatening to infect. His eyes move from me to her, a look of confusion and equally as perturbed as I am, appearing within them as he watches her contort playfully before him, her blond hair twirled around her finger as her head bobs side to side. He stares between the two of us for a beat too long and I’m suddenly uninterested and unimpressed.
Turning toward the bar that’s set up in the VIP section, I squeeze my way through a pair of brunettes I don’t recognize, arriving at the bar and waving my hand in the air calling over the cute bartender who doesn’t look much older than the kids here. Instantly he spots me and heads over, a cute boy next door smile appearing on his handsome face. He looks oddly familiar but I can’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe I do know him from school after all.
“Well hey there beautiful, what can I get for ya?” he asks, his smile now a full grin as my eyes roam over him playfully checking him out. He notices and returns the favor, his eyes lingering a bit too long on my sweat glimmering cleavage.
I tilt my head slightly to the right, giving him my best come hither smile. “Well I’m awfully thirsty, what’s your specialty?” I ask, turning on the flirtatious charm I’ve been praised for in the past.
He follows my lead, playing into my game. “Well there is Sex on the Beach, the Leg Spreader, a Creamy Pussy, perhaps a Blow Job,” he says, the last one with a wink. Bold, I like it.
Though before I can reply, we’re interrupted by a loud growl in the distance. “Did you just ask my girl for a fucking blow job asshole?!” Sebastian shouts, reaching over and grabbing the sweet bartender by the neck, pulling him over the bar. The fear in the poor kid's eyes is evident as Sebastian practically strangles him, tugging on the bowtie around his neck.
The brunette’s beside us are quick to retreat making way for Sebastian to tighten his grip. “I didn’t, I’m sorry,” the bartender stammers, looking anxiously between us. This fucking asshole. “She said she was thirsty. I was just offering her some drinks.”
“Like hell you were! You’re fucking dead asshole.” Sebastian continues to shout out like a madman as the crowd around us starts to notice, spreading out and leaving us standing alone in a sea of drunk teenagers watching intently. Fuck this, I didn’t leave the comfort of my mundane life to come here and be the constant attraction.
“Let him fucking go Sebastian, you’re going to kill him,” I sneer, placing my hands on my hips irritated by his childish behavior. Someone has a short fuse, but I guess Sebastian is known to have a temper .
“That’s the plan baby girl,” he snarls, turning to me and winking before his murderous glare is back on the poor bartender. And that’s my cue, nothing I say or do is going to tame the beast so might as well leave while I can.
“Fine, whatever. You do what you want. I’m done. I’m getting out of here.” I shrug my shoulders giving the bartender my best apologetic smile before turning and heading toward the exit we came in through. I push through the hordes of teens glaring viciously at me, practically seeing the rabid foam in their mouths as I head down the stairs to the lower level and through the crowded dance floor. I know Sebastian’s probably released the poor bastard by now, not able to keep from following me down, but I don’t bother turning around to see if he’s behind me.
I manage to make it out the front door, the cold rush of the night like an ice-cold blanket covering my body in goosebumps. I step further out, leaning back on the railing of the front steps as my surroundings begin to spin uncontrollably. Fuck I didn’t think I was this drunk.
The bright lights outside the hotel mixed in with the cold air must have fucked me up. I hear voices behind me but decide to ignore them as they approach closer. I start descending the stairs but stop when someone steps behind me.
“Damn beautiful, you are fucking smoking,” says a crass, masculine voice as I sense someone behind me. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, gorgeous?”
“Fuck off,” I sneer, giving whoever he is the finger before stepping further down the steps and away from whoever the fuck this asshole is.
“Come on love, where are you off to so early. The party is just getting started,” says another, this time as a hand reaches out to grip my elbow. An alarm starts ringing in my head, blaring like a loud siren warning me of the impending danger that is too follow if I don’t get the fuck out of here. I grew up in a shitty neighborhood, I know the drill. Pretty girls like me out in the streets late at night dressed like this, these fuckers see me as fresh, easy meat. Well, too bad for them they don’t know who they’re fucking with.
“I said fuck off asshole,” I shout as I manage to pull out of his grip. My footsteps quicken as I head toward the right hoping to run into another person closer to the parking lot. I curse myself for choosing to wear these fucking heels. Of course they looked hella fine with my outfit, my calves perfectly defined, and my ass looking so fucking good, but are they practical? No. And in this situation, coming where I come from I should have expected it.
I make it to the last step before I’m hauled up in the air, rough, calloused hands wrapped around my waist. His shoulders are broad, enveloping me in a coat of steel as I start to scream, kicking and waving my arms hoping to smack the fucker who’s dared put his hands on me, but his buddy is quick to stifle my screams with his burly hand.
“Shut the fuck up bitch. God I swear you blondes’ can be fucking mouthy,” he mutters, angrily. I turn to look at him, but don’t recognize him from school. He looks older, maybe in his twenties with a buzz cut . I take in the large scar underneath his eyebrow and the dark brown of his eyes. Coming from the slums, putting to memory any unusual physical characteristics is essential in giving the cops a proper composite sketch.
“This is why I go for brunette’s Skeet,” the one behind me says, gaining himself a death glare from Skeet .
His eyes turn dark with anger, his brows meeting in between his eyes as he glares behind me. “Shut the fuck up you bastard!” Skeet shouts, clearly upset that his friend gave up his identity.
“Sorry man, fuck. Let’s just take her. Kane will fucking love this one. I swear she already smells like sex.” I kick backward, hitting the asshole holding me right in his dick but his hold on me doesn’t loosen as he crouches forward.
“You fucking bitch, fuck. You kicked me,” the guy behind me groans.
Skeet moves closer to me, his hand moving to grip my hair and pulling my head back so my face is tilted up to him, my neck exposed as his eyes move to stare at the silky skin. “You should not have done that love, now you’re going to have to rub it and make it feel better.”
I spit getting Skeet right in the eye. “Fuck off asshole, let me go!” I wriggle and fight scratching and kicking but the burly dude behind me does not budge.
“How old are ya darling?” Skeet asks, as I continue to kick in his friend's arms. “Doesn’t matter, Kane likes them of age, but maybe he’ll let us have some fun with this one first.” A revolting laugh leaves the asshole holding me.
Suddenly I’m thrown onto the floor as the massive guy holding me falls beside me, crushing me with half of his body. “Get your fucking hands off of her!” Bass shouts, as he moves to punch Skeet right across the jaw. Skeet’s head falls to the side, his mouth spewing blood as he lands on his knees on the ground beside me, while his buddy stands and rushes toward Bass, throwing himself over him. However, Bass is still taller and quick to lay the fucker down. Skeet rises to his feet charging after Bass who is kicking Skeet’s buddy in the ribs. Skeet swings a punch toward Bass who easily catches his hand midair, crushing it and twisting his arms until he spins him holding him in a headlock. Bass then kicks Skeet in the back of his knees, making him fall to the ground.
“It’s time for you to beg for your pathetic little life asshole,” Bass growls, as he tightens his grip on Skeet’s neck.
“You little shit, you don’t know who the fuck you are messing with. It’s not smart to piss off The Order,” Skeet says, spitting out blood and maybe a few teeth. I watch with wide eyes as Bass’s scowl deepens, a homicidal look flashes in his eyes as he looks up at me. I shake my head in confusion, afraid of what Bass might do.
Bass lifts his knee, ramming it in Skeet’s back dropping him to the floor. He stands with his foot pressing down on Skeet’s neck, making the fucker gasp for air. “You tell Kane, he just fucked with the wrong girl,” Bass says, crouching down and kneeling beside Skeet as he lowers his head to his. “You tell him, his pathetic little errand boys, just fucked with Sebastian Silver’s girl.”
The two men lay on the floor groaning and wincing in pain, bloody, beaten, and whimpering in agony as Sebastian walks over to me. “Jade, baby are you okay?” he asks, reaching down to me and scooping me up into his arms, not caring that he’s all sweaty and covered in blood. Not caring that he just beat these two shady men halfway to death in front of me. My body is quivering in fear, as he helps me to my feet.
“Yeah, I’m just, oh God Bass,” I cry out remembering what just almost happened, as he wraps his arms around my body, my face settling in the space between his chest. It feels oddly comforting. I inhale his musky, sweat riddled scent, mixed in with the metallic blood splattered across his shirt. “I thought, fuck I thought—” My words fail me as the thought of what could have happened to me had he not shown up terrifies me.
“Shh, you’re okay baby, I’m here. You’re okay,” he assures me, his hand not wrapped around me caressing my head. I lift my head up to gaze at him, his eyes glazed with anger and worry. Even with a busted lip, and dirt stains on his face he looks fucking beautiful. His dark hair all disheveled and stuck to his forehead with sweat, the stubble on his chin, even though earlier was clean shaven, is now starting to appear. His eyes trace over me suddenly coated in lust as he watches me watch him.
“Is it wrong that all of that turned me on?” I blurt out, quickly bringing my hand up to cover my mouth as I realize I vocalized my thoughts.
A sexy smirk takes over his scowl as he shakes his head in amusement. “Let’s get you back inside and all cleaned up,” he murmurs, lifting my head up and placing a soft, tender kiss upon my forehead. It’s so unlike him but feels so fucking perfect. Something strange flutters inside of me, and not the usual arousal that courses through me when his lips are on me.
I know I look like shit, my hair disheveled, my makeup most likely smeared from the tears falling upon my cheek, but when I see the look of horror flash before his eyes as he stares at my reaction to his kiss, the look of someone who has just witnessed something horrendous, I realize he’s like this because of what could almost have happened here. I was furious at his little show of who’s the alpha with the bigger dick earlier with the innocent bartender, but now, as I watched him beat the shit out of these two assholes who tried to take me, I see the look of someone who cares. Someone who would be torn apart if something were to happen to me. I haven’t seen that look upon anyone's face, not when it’s come to me.
“No Sebastian,” I mutter, his expression shifting to one of confusion. “Take me home, take me with you.” He runs a hand gently through my hair, his fingers moving to trace the speck of tears falling upon my cheek. “I don’t want to be alone.”
We head back to his place, both silently staring at the road ahead of us, in shock. How would I even respond to everything I just witnessed? He beat the shit out of two huge guys with his bare hands. Like who does that, unless they’re some psychopath or killer, and before today I didn’t think Sebastian fell under either category. But the way he moved, the way he came out of that brawl practically unscathed, makes me wonder if this is something that happens fairly often in his world. I know this world is more than meets the eye, Hillcrest Hills has secrets hidden in every corner, under every surface, and embedded deep in its foundation.
Suddenly I remember what that lowlife Skeet told Sebastian before he fell to the floor under his heavy boot. Something about an order or whatnot. However it was Bass’s response which made me believe this wasn’t a coincidence, or at least he knew well enough who these guys were, or at least who they worked for. Kane . That was the name they both said, Skeet while he spoke to his buddy about taking me to him, and Sebastian as he told them to tell Kane he messed with the wrong girl. His girl.
I realize that’s the second time tonight Bass has claimed me as his, first to the bartender he argued was flirting with me, and again when addressing Skeet. I need to remember to address that issue at some point and correct him, but right now I need to know who the hell those guys were.
“Who’s Kane?” I blurt out casually, causing Bass to hit the brakes, abruptly stopping in the middle of the street.
“What the fuck, Jade?” he asks, turning his attention to me. “You’re going to make me crash.”
I turn and glare at him, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of his comment. “Don’t ignore me, I asked you a question.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he replies, clearly bullshitting me as he starts driving, crossing the city line back into Hillcrest. Galen Grove, where we just were, is supposed to be some high-class party town, glitz glam and the whole shebang like Hillcrest Hills, not some debauched crime ridden slum like Providence or even Pleasant Hills, which makes me wonder why some third-rate criminals are stalking it’s streets. Then again I remember Hillcrest Hills has its fair share of criminals and devils too.
“When you were stepping down on the asshole’s neck you said tell Kane he fucked with the wrong girl , and Skeet,” Bass turns to me shocked that I knew the guy’s name. “His idiot friend let it slip,” I say, continuing my story. “Skeet said that Kane wouldn’t mind me being underage even though he prefers them older.”
“That fucking asshole!” Bass shouts, startling me as he impulsively punches his steering wheel. I flinch at the brash act, still a bit jumpy from my earlier encounter. His anger radiates through him like an electric current, which I’m sure if I could see, would look like red and orange flames coursing through his veins.
My voice heightens, my frustration getting the best of me as I turn in my seat. “So that’s why I’m asking who the fuck is Kane?” He doesn’t bother looking at me, doesn’t even acknowledge me sitting beside him as his gaze remains directed at the road before us, his lips twitching in anger. But I’m not satisfied with his answer or lack thereof. “Bass?— ”
“Nobody you need to worry yourself with,” he finally says, interrupting me. “Fuck Jade, it’s none of your concern.”
Now it’s me who’s pissed at his dismissal of my question and the obvious frustration of my own curiosity. But he’s not the one who was almost kidnapped, I’m the one who needs answers. “Like hell it isn’t, need I remind you I was the one that was about to be taken and—” I pause, unable to finish my statement, not wanting to think about what they might have done to me. Bass stops at a red light, turning to me and reaching out to cup my face in his palm, his demeanor instantly shifting from furious to placid.
“Shh,” he mutters, bringing his thumb to rub against my lip. The rough tip of his finger grazes the soft sensitive skin of my lips opening them slightly as I fight the urge to dart my tongue out to lick it. “I will never let them, or anyone for that matter, hurt you Jade.” His confession stuns me, and I am unaware of how to respond to that. So I don’t, I just stare straight in his eyes, into the deep gray clouds, past the rage, past the worry, and far down into the small glimmer of something I can’t quite decipher.
“ButI—” He leans forward, closing the distance between us as he brings his lips a mere inch from mine. I instinctively stick my tongue out to wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry and needy as I stare down at his thick, plump lips. In my peripheral vision, I see the traffic light turn green, then switch to yellow, and finally turn back to red as we sit here in silence only the roaring of the engine heard in the distance.
“Can’t you just thank me instead of hounding me with questions you have no business asking,” he mutters breathily, the huskiness of his voice coated in lust and desire as his eyes are fixated on my lips.
“Thank you,” I whimper, practically moaning from just his closeness. He darts his tongue out to lick his lips softly grazing mine as he does. I ache to feel his lips on mine, nearly giving in to my urges and taking his mouth in an electrifying kiss but I don’t.
“That’s my girl,” he says, slowly retreating and adjusting himself in his seat as the traffic light turns green once again. He steps on the gas, accelerating and speeding off into the darkness of the night. “Now let's get you home.”
I move to sit straight forward, leaning my head back against the headrest as I close my eyes and compose myself before I do something rash like jump over to straddle him and make us crash. But as his hand moves to lay upon my thigh, his fingers coarsely tracing circles around my goosebump covered skin before gripping me tightly, I sit back and let the feeling overwhelm me. He called me his girl once again, but this time, I didn't want to correct him.