Chapter 13
TOXIN
I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep. After shit finally settled down, I perched in the kitchen.
I listened for the moment Brynn left the room Natasha was in for the night.
And after creeping down the hallway, I perched by her door.
I listened. Kept watch. Ready to intercept her the second she decided to slip away again.
But all I got were her soft snores through the door.
I went and laid down. But I couldn't get her running out of my head. I bolted upright at every little sound. I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. I worried about her leaving again. Sneaking away just before the break of dawn and getting herself killed somewhere. I didn’t know why.
She’d been a pain in my dickhole since I’d found her in that fucking back room of the casino.
And yet, my mind raced.
Hours passed. Three in the morning. Four. Five in the morning. Soon, five thirty ticked over on the digital clock beside me and I groaned. It was no use. I wasn’t sleeping anytime tonight.
So, I decided to get myself a snack.
Dressed in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, I padded out to the kitchen.
I scratched behind my head as I yawned. I shuffled into the darkened kitchen and opened the fridge, trying to figure out a midnight snack concoction.
It wasn’t really a midnight snack, though.
In two hours, the sunrise would begin. Signaling yet another day Diesel was being tortured instead of home. With his family.
You really fucked this up.
I pushed the thoughts from my mind. I pulled out some sandwich meat and vegetables. The mayonnaise. Mustard. Other things to slap on a sandwich. And as I reached for the bread, the hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end.
Causing me to stop in my tracks.
I held my breath. I closed my eyes. I tuned into the sounds and smells around me.
I slowly lowered my hand, forgetting about the bread as I heard it.
The smallest creak of the wooden floorboards of the house.
The foundation cracked. I heard soft breaths coming down the hallway.
I opened my eyes and reached into the kitchen drawer, wrapping my fingers around a steak knife.
And as I turned around with the knife shrouded against the underside of my arm, those brooding eyes appeared. Dark. Twinkling. Wide awake, despite the early morning hours.
Causing me to let out a sigh.
“Natasha, the hell are you doing up so early?” I asked.
She snickered. “You say that like I fell asleep.”
“You did. I heard you snoring.”
“I don’t snore.”
“You wanna bet on that?”
She stepped out from the shadows. “You making a sandwich?”
“I don’t share my food.”
“Trust me, I don’t either. It takes calories to keep up these curves.”
My cheeks ticked with a grin. “Want me to make you one?”
“What? You think I can’t make my own sandwich?”
“Is everything always a battle with you? Or is it some kink you have?”
She snickered. “Careful, now. We might get too loud for the kiddies in the house.”
“Not my problem you’re a screamer.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
She came over to me and reached around my body. After pulling a shaving of turkey off the top of the pile, she tossed it into her mouth. She smiled wildly at me as she chewed, and it made me chuckle. Oh, she was cheeky. A feisty young woman.
In any other world, she would’ve been mine for the night.
“So, what kept you up tonight?” she asked.
I watched her hoist herself onto the kitchen counter.
Her long legs, swinging against the cabinetry.
My eyes lingered on her thighs. Those bare thighs covered only by a long t-shirt.
They were smooth. Soft. Delectable, and ready for my taking.
She had socks on her feet, and I found myself wanting to slide them off and give them a nice massage.
Before working my way up between her legs.
“Sometimes, I can’t sleep,” I said.
Natasha nodded. “Any particular reason?”
“Nightmares, mostly.”
“About…?”
I started making my sandwich. “A former life.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“Not really something I like talking about.”
“Trust me, I get it. I don’t like talking about my former life either.”
I nodded. “You mean your mafia life?”
“No, the one before that. The one that makes the mafia look like a vacation.”
I paused. “That good, huh?”
She snickered. “Something tells me you understand that.”
I cleared my throat. “I suppose I should ask you the obvious.”
She snorted. “You’re wanting to know if I was trying to sneak out.”
I slowly looked over at her. “Did you just snort?”
“What? You never heard a girl snort before?”
“No.”
“Wait, really?”
I shook my head. “Never.”
“Well, get used to it. Because if anyone in here says anything remotely funny, it’s Snortsville for me.”
“Charming.”
“Ah, you know how to woo the women, don’t you?”
I turned my attention back to my sandwich. “At any rate, I don’t think any of us are in a joking mood. So, you might get to tuck your piggish ways back in for a little while.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“Yep. You haven't gotten much sleep then.”
She pushed me playfully and giggled. And the sound wrapped me up, warming me to my core. I grinned at her, stealing a glance at her smile as it spread across her face. As it lit up her features. As it brightened her entire presence.
She looked good in a smile.
“Plus, I told Brynn I’d wait until the morning to figure things out. And you know it’s never morning until the sun comes up,” she said.
I shrugged. “Anything before ten A.M. isn’t morning, if you ask me.”
“I like your style, Toxin.”
She reached over and placed the last piece of bread on top of my sandwich.
And after crushing it down, she picked it up.
I watched her with a slacked jaw as she eyed me playfully.
Wrapping her lips around the outside of the sandwich.
She took the largest bite, too. Mustard and mayonnaise imprinted itself against her cheeks.
She moaned as she chewed, licking her lips.
Her fingertips. Gracing me with sounds I wanted to hear while her throat was stuffed with my dick.
Down, boy.
“And here I thought you could make your own sandwich,” I said, chuckling.
“Mm. It looked so good, though. You should really have one,” she said with her mouth full.
I laughed. “Yeah. I guess I’ll whip one right up.”
She winked. “You really should.”
I made myself another sandwich, listening as she softly groaned over the one I’d made.
Not for her, of course. That one had been stolen from me.
But I found I didn’t mind. I picked up my sandwich and took a bite.
I turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter.
I wanted to ask her so many things. Learn so much about her. Including her life before the mafia.
But I had a lot of faith I needed to show, first.
“A cult,” I said.
Natasha paused in the corner of my eye. “What?”
“My life before the club. The one I don’t want to talk about much. I was raised on a compound inside a cult.”
“You—wai—you’re—are you serious?”
I nodded as I took a bite of my sandwich.
“Toxin, look at me.”
I glanced at her. “Yes?”
“What kind of a cult?”
I shrugged. “Religious. They usually are. A massive compound right in the middle of a deserted area of New Mexico. I was born into it by my mother. Who was nothing more than a child herself.”
“My God, Toxin. How old was she?”
I shook my head. “She wasn’t more than fifteen when she gave birth to me. I was raised by one of the older women on the compound. One of the leader’s numerous wives.”
“How did you escape?”
“Mom wanted better for me. I mean, I still saw her. It wasn’t like they withheld me from my mother. But her job was to keep pushing out children until she was no longer physically able to. Which essentially meant until the compound leader didn’t see her as beautiful and virile any longer.”
“How fucking sick.”
I nodded. “You’re telling me.”
“Were you…?”
I knew what she was asking. “Yeah. There was a little bit of everything. Beatings when the kids got out of control. Stepped out of line. Starvation tactics for those that were caught trying to leave. Throw dehydration for shits and giggles into the mix and you’ve got a recipe for brainwashing.”
“But, I mean, you obviously got out.”
I nodded. “Like I said, Mom wasn’t stupid.
She was a child being taken advantage of.
A girl who had been abducted herself and forced into the lifestyle.
When I was thirteen, she started talking to me about all the wrong that place was doing.
She helped me escape by taking me on walks and showing me the vulnerable parts of the compound. ”
“How old you were when you escaped?”
“Not much older than when she’d originally given birth to me. About sixteen or so. I told her I’d come back for her. That I’d make sure my mother was safe. Then, I made a break for it in the middle of the night.”
“Where is she now? Your mother?”
I tensed. “Dead.”
Natasha gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged. “She knew the price she was paying when she helped me leave. My testimonies helped to bring down the cult. Help infiltrate the compound. But most everyone was already dead because of ‘toxic water’.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Nope. The asshole poisoned their only water source. Killed every single person in that damn place. Children, included.”
I felt something warm against my bare shoulder and I looked over at her hand. She squeezed me, and electricity filled my veins. I took a bite of my sandwich to keep my mind off it. But when she started rubbing my skin, my heart rate skyrocketed.
“So, that’s me in a nutshell. Cult runaway. Responsible for the mass murder of hundreds—”
“That was the leader’s fault. Not yours,” she said.
I shrugged. “Tell that to sixteen-year-old me.”
“I’m telling you that now. It wasn’t your fault, Toxin.”
I whipped around, abandoning my sandwich. “That’s why all of this is so important to me, Natasha.”
She gasped as I placed my hands on either side of her body. Effectively pinning her against the counter.
“Toxin, you—”
“That’s why you have to trust me. That’s why you have to cooperate.
Because if you don’t, I risk the only other family I’ve ever known being slaughtered at the hands of a man I can’t control.
A man I can’t save them from. Help us, Natasha.
Tell us what you know. Anyone. Brynn. Grave.
Any of the other girls. A child. Someone. Please.”
I gazed into her eyes as my guard slipped down.
I couldn't help it. It was the first time I’d ever recounted that story to someone since Brewer first found me on the streets.
Since Brewer took me in. Since Brewer brought me in front of the guys and helped make me a prospect so I could work and make money for myself.
I expected Natasha to push me away. To spit in my face. Or start yelling again. But instead, her hands slid up my arms. Rumbled over my muscles. Until her warm, velvety hands cupped either side of my neck.
“If you can protect me from Ivan, I’ll help,” she whispered.
I swallowed hard. “Who’s Ivan?”
“My life before the mafia.”
“Boyfriend?”
She nodded.
“Not nice boyfriend?”
She nodded again.
“How many times did you try to get away?”
She swallowed hard. “Four. And he put me in the hospital twice before resorting to other tactics to punish me.”
“What did he do to you, Natasha?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just promise me you’ll—”
My hands came up at the speed of light. I cupped the nape of her neck and the back of her head. I pulled her closer. I felt her breath against my lips. And as her feet locked around the back of my calves, I held her eyes to mine. I refused to let her go as my eyes danced between hers.
“What. Did he do to you?” I asked.
Her eyes watered. “The third time I ran, I locked me in his basement until I promised not to do it again. And when I ran a fourth time, he—”
I placed my forehead against hers. “I swear to fuck on high, you’re safe here.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “The fourth time, he beat me until I couldn't move out of bed to try and leave again.”
I fisted her hair. The anger that swelled in my veins was enough to level an entire fucking state.
Our noses nuzzled together, her body jumping with her sobs.
I didn’t want her to cry. It broke my soul to listen to such a strong, stubborn ass woman cry.
And as my head tilted off to the side, I did the only thing I could do to stop her from tainting her skin with such agonizing streaks of salted water.
I pressed my lips against hers.
Until our teeth clattered together with our kissing.