Chapter 24~
Even’s plan is dangerous at best. But what can I say? We all like a little danger.
When we originally met in La Porte, we were all hell-bent on tracking those assholes down. I was so excited when Stu said we found them. But, that excitement quickly morphed into intense determination when he said they were meeting their next victim.
I took off for the truck, not even bothering with my bike, and didn”t look back until I was in the driver”s seat and starting the truck. Once I saw that Stu had turned a ghostly shade of pale while searching for the victim”s information, I immediately sensed that he had some kind of relationship with the woman that the vile bastard had been messaging. Then, hearing Danny scream out, the one who is usually either silent and deadly or sweet and bouncy- yeah, I knew she had to be amazing for them to show so much emotion.
However, nothing could have prepared me for the instantaneous surge of protectiveness I felt when I saw her lying still on the ground while that asshole pawed at her. It was dark, but the sky was clear so I saw enough.
Until I saw red.
I almost pulled her away from Stu but my brain registered the raw horror that took over his face. She really meant something to him.
Don’t get me wrong, I was all too happy to help Danny wrestle the asshole to the ground before stomping on his head. His beast was far too close to the surface and I was already wondering how we would get him out. Thankfully, he was able to pull back, but I’m pretty sure it was because he knew Beatrice needed help.
Then, the surprises kept coming. Her house being so close was definitely not a coincidence, and piecing together the little details I’ve learned about her, I’m pretty sure she chose it. She likes to be in control, and based on her reaction to us being in her house last week, she’s had that control taken away too many times.
The dungeon, on the other hand, was a surprise I never saw coming. Stu still won’t talk much about it but assures me she “does what she needs to do to keep others safe.” The entire statement was loaded with unspoken trauma. For now, I won’t push.
But the cherry on the proverbial shitstorm of a sundae was finding out she was Omega. My Omega! What kind of small-ass town are we living in where that”s even possible?
The second Even and I walked through her bedroom, I froze. It felt like a whole ice bucket of water was dumped straight on my head as I saw the entire left side of her bedroom wall decorated in vinyl records; that dang Purple Rain one mounted just to the side, where I had seen it before, through the laptop camera, as my cock was standing at full mast for her.
And just in case I wasn”t totally sure it was her, that little, sassy spitfire walked into the living room, and I noticed the large tattoo on her forearm with the lily sitting front and center. I hadn”t seen it before our last night on camera. But she was always skittish when I brought up personal stuff, so I didn”t ask.
I can”t lie, she was even more glorious, more stunning in person. Even bruised and cut up, she had this presence about her. Her blue, soulful eyes were filled with equal parts trauma and grit; of brokenness and sheer determination. My hands have been on my dick more in the last couple of weeks than it has in the last two months. I should be worried about chafing but I just can”t help it.
Clearly, I”m not the only one fucked up over this woman as we’re all piled in my truck on our way to meet her at our favorite club. And, honestly, I can’t figure out how I feel. This woman is an enigma in her own right, and I can’t lie; I’m more curious to see how this goes than I’ve let on.
I shift in my seat as my cock hardens painfully. I shouldn”t feel so much about this woman already. Sure, we”ve met quite a few times in our video room, but I was literally in her actual presence for less than 10 minutes, and I already feel an inexplicable need to see her, love her, fucking hold her. How am I supposed to do that when I can”t tolerate touch? I barely tolerate the guys patting me on the back.
My ex”s death fucked me in more ways than ten. Over the last couple of years, I”ve learned that I can touch, because I can control it, but that”s it. That”s the line. Other people touching me makes me lose myself completely, and it”s never pretty.
I take a few deep breaths, my hands clenching into fists as I try to regain my composure. Thinking of Cammy always throws me off and I can”t afford to be off tonight.
We pull into The Raven Room”s parking lot and jump out of my truck. Slipping on our masks, we take in each other’s costumes for the night.
Even is in his favorite COD mask and gear. Obviously, he doesn’t have the ammo, knives, or helmet. He does have on his black tac vest and black cargo pants. He also fashions a set of headphones with a mic over his head. He’s hoping she won’t recognize him with just the bottom part of his face covered since he only met her a couple of times without his gear.
Next to him, Stu is wearing a Ghostface mask, a fitted black V-neck shirt, and black jeans. Strangely, he paired them with red Chucks, but it kind of works. He needed a full mask since his piercings would absolutely give him away—that, and probably his voice.
Danny’s bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like a sugar-fueled kangaroo. The loon has a full skull mask on. The top is of a white skull with creepy ass cracks through it. The skull part stops after the top row of teeth before turning into long, white lines trailing down the rest of the black mask. It heavily resembles The Punisher, which fits him perfectly. He has on a fitted, black, long-sleeved shirt to cover the tats on his arms, just in case Bea recognizes them since they all hung out one night... since she saw him the night of the attack. He also has black gloves with skeleton fingers bubbled on top and khaki cargo pants.
Then, there’s me. I don’t really do the whole “masked thing,” but for Bea, I’m willing to give it a try. I channeled my inner horror lover and bought a red Jason mask that”s striped with black paint for an additional creep factor. Not knowing what else to wear with it, I chose a black, sleeveless button-up shirt—with the first few buttons undone, of course. Then, I paired it with my combat boots and black jeans.
The four of us look like complete psychopaths, but judging by the looks we’re getting from the women going inside, I guess that’s not a bad thing.
I look at my watch and see that it’s just about 9:30, so I tilt my chin in the direction of the club. Just as we step forward to cross the lot, the purring of a motorcycle brings us to a halt. There are a few in the lot, but most people won’t ride a motorcycle to a club because, well, safety.
I can tell I’m not the only one intrigued by the sound as the others have paused and turned towards the road. We watch someone drive into the lot on a Phantom Purple Yamaha R3. The lights around the parking lot glint off the purple and you can see the faint strokes of the pink lines that ombre down the sides. The motorcycle turns down our aisle, making its way past us. The parking lot lights are just bright enough that I can see the rider’s gray Dainese shoes; the familiar devil symbol in purple stitched on the side.
Danny steps up next to me and tilts his head, making him truly look like the psychopath he actually is with The Punisher mask on. Stu and Even come to a stand next to us, and we watch with rapt attention as the person parks, turns off the bike, and stands, straddling the bike almost on tip-toes.
I was pretty sure before, but now I’m 100% positive that the rider is a woman. Her ass looks downright biteable in her skinny jeans. Her shirt hangs off of one shoulder and I can see the faint lining of a blue lace bra. My dick is already way too happy as my eyes slowly peruse this voluptuous creature.
Shucking off her gloves, she moves to dismount and then removes the little black backpack on her back. It takes her a moment to remove her shoes and trade them for a pair of black flats. Her breasts bounce with the movements as she’s bent over; that juicy ass high in the air.
Standing taller, she begins to move the helmet. The lights refract off the iridescent swirls decorating the black helmet, giving it a magical yet badass look.
She then ducks down between the bike and the truck next to her, slides off her helmet, and shakes out her hair. And fuck my life; it’s her! Her back is facing us, and she’s bent over to hide her face, but I know with every pulse of my dick that the woman who just rode up on a damn motorcycle is Beatrice.
Judging by the gasps and grunts around me, I”m not the only one who didn’t know this woman drove a motorcycle. Looking over at Stu, he shrugs and shakes his head, “I never peeked under the covers in the garage. But, now I need to know what’s under the others.”
His voice is heavily distorted behind the mask, making me chuckle. Even shakes his head and goes back to watching Bea. She slips her riding shoes back into her bag and brushes her shoulder-length hair out before fixing the mask to her face. “Let’s get inside before she sees us. I don’t want her to run if she thinks we saw her without a mask.”
With a nod, we turn and quickly move to the club door. My dick is already trying to punch its way through my pants, and we haven’t even talked to her yet. This is either going to be the best night ever or the worst. There’s no doubt in my mind that there won’t be any in-between.