54. Reeve
FIFTY-FOUR
reeve
Why is it that at every waking moment, Bay Astor needs to look hot as fuck?
Even with blood dripping down the side of her face, those cool blue eyes that have sent every emotion rippling through me as of late, she has to appear like walking sex.
I definitely see it.
And the crew of fuckheads I have plaguing my space aren’t gonna let her go without one of us going down. This isn’t the Forsaken Crew backing me right now, because if it was, she’d be set off with a warning.
No, I’m babysitting The Void.
Emilio has Torin, Cairo, and I teaching these pricks how to run the streets while we slowly pull our crew out of The Landings. Which—um—if they can’t patrol without some sort of authority or street-smarts, why the hell are we wasting our time?
However, it’s to play along with his plans, it’s another way to keep the peace within our ranks, and it’s another when Bay is on our streets. And people who break the rules get broken limbs, faces, and sometimes end up killed.
You don’t fuck with the Forsaken Crew’s rules.
Period.
No one guilty gets away without reaping the consequences. And, right now, it’s either her or me who’s gonna get scathed.
Except, no matter which way this goes, I’m gonna pay either way.
“What are you gonna do?” I hear the deep-seated tremor in her voice, the unknown of how far I’m gonna let this go.
It has to go all the way.
If I smack her on the wrist and tell her to get out of my sight, I’m going to get hell rained on me. We’ll lose the respect of these pricks as being a weak-ass gang who can get swayed by pretty lips and a nice ass.
Then we’ll have Emilio barking up our ass. However, not sure how he’d feel about raping his daughter in front of a bunch of his men, but he doesn’t run our ship anymore. He just sits with a crown on a Titan seat, and even though we’re pulling from Emilio, we still need to be feared. That we were here first if Emilio sikes The Void on us.
I’m no stranger to pain or constructed dread. The tattoos along my ribs, left arm, and thigh hide the horrors I’ve inflicted for what Greevy wanted so hard to point out.
I’m bisexual.
And my mama doesn’t like that I am.
My dad—fuck, rest his soul, the bastard prick wherever he is—obviously has no fucking idea what I am or who I grew up to be. And Bay Astor isn’t just any trespasser with contraband, but Emilio’s golden ticket to South Shore.
But there’s a line.
A clear example that has to be made, because I’m here to show this group of fucks how a real crew works. I have every eye that’s not near-sighted watching my every move.
And the last thing I want is for them to think she’s special in any way, shape, or form, because if they do, it just creates that hunger of touching something that doesn’t belong to them.
I’m not sure if Emilio has publicly told them about his prized daughter, and I’m hoping, for her sake, that he hasn’t. It just creates courage for one of them to move on her and try to ride higher up the ranks in Emilio’s favor—or so they’d think.
Taking a deep breath, I attempt to settle the wreck of nerves floating and crashing into each other. She’s gonna hate me after this and all the ideas I’ve had of things I wanted to do with her are about to alakazam the fuck out of here.
“I gotta either beat you, baby, or fuck you. And don’t get me wrong…” The tightly gripped gun in my hand rises and falls to her perfect set of lips that I’ve wanted to be wrapped around my cock for weeks now. “I really wanna fuck you.” Her eyes glisten with something I can’t read or subconsciously don’t want to. “Don’t fuckin’ move, got it?”
She bobs her head slowly, which I still don’t trust. The next thing I need is her poppin’ me in the balls and I’m surprised she hasn’t tried that yet.
Dialing Torin’s number, it rings three long times before he answers, “What’s up brother?”
“I got Bay Astor.”
He’s silent for a moment, causing me to clutch my phone harder. “Lemme guess…you found her rollin’ the streets with weed.”
“Yep.”
I hear him scoff, clearly not pleased with the answer. “And you got the fuckin’ Void with you, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. I don’t want Emilio to find out that we went soft on her. He hasn’t told anyone about her yet.” Thank fuck. He’s silent for a moment before saying, “How good of an actor are you?”
“In what capacity?” I ask, staring back at Bay who’s looking up at me like I’m her only hope in the world.
Right now, I am.
“Put her on the phone.”
“That’s a problem.”
“Why?”
I can’t tell him outwardly that it’d give way to her being different. Who the fuck speaks to someone on the phone when they’ve wronged us?
No one.
“Dude, seriously?” I mutter, turning my head so the others can’t see how irritated I am. “I got them chompin’ at the bit over here for her.”
“Then stake your claim. Put me on speakerphone so those wannabes hear me. Pretend to fuck her, Reeve. Put on the show of your life. I got your backup on the way now.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I leer. “You want me to?—”
“No other way, Reeve. Emilio’s warned her and so have we. If he finds out we went easy on her, he’s going to wonder why. He might get pissed off at…”
My jaw ticks. “Me, asshole.”
If he finds out I so-called raped his daughter, I’ll bet every cent I have that he’ll have me beheaded.
“We’ll keep you safe,” Torin quickly retorts. “Don’t sweat that. However, our reputation…”
“Is irrefutable.”
“We’re gonna have enough to speak about when Emilio catches wind of what we just did but, if you like this chick, brother, save her life.”
Save her life.
My stomach plummets and so does the gun in my hand. I instantly feel as though I’m gonna get sick. My stomach mangles into a giant knot and bile rises up my throat, hot and acidic. I’m aware of the feeling all too well, on both sides.
I’ve been raped and done the raping.
I must’ve stepped closer to her because Bay’s fingers wrap around the back of my t-shirt and she tugs, gaining my focus immediately as if she can sense the turmoil racing through my body. “Do what he says.”
I don’t know if she heard him on the other line or if she knows what’s at stake, but I…I can’t do this.
“Brother, fake it,” Torin urges. “You got this. It’s not like before. You got back up.”
Right.
I’m not really going to hurt her. It’s all for show.
It’s all for this.
Pulling the cell from my ear, I put him on speakerphone and toss the damn thing to the roof of my car. “You’re on.”
“Wonderful,” Torin replies, sounding placid and fucking cold. “Boys, this is what happens when we warn people twice to stay the fuck off our streets with drugs. She got off once with a once-in-a-lifetime warning. She’s about to get off again.” The boys behind me cheer excitedly, clapping their hands and whistling out loud in delirium about the events to come. “Fuck her nice and hard, Stanton. I want to hear it. I want the boys to see it. I want her mocked and humiliated. Then I want her brought back here to me.”
The retort that I’m not able to do this is on the tip of my tongue, but I’m in self-preservation mode. I know what could happen to me if I don’t follow Torin’s orders because a gangbanger who likes dick isn’t respected if they appear like a pussy. I’ve seen within my own family what has happened when being gay isn’t cured or ignored.
In years past I’ve tightly hidden my attraction for men behind closed doors, and my mama still makes sure to make it public that I prefer women every chance she gets.
I prefer neither over the other.
And I don’t want to die either.
My brothers and I have plans and it doesn’t include being one man short. We’re quite aware of Emilio’s bullshit. The war he wants to start with South Shore. Like I told Bay just a moment ago and way before, I don’t have issues with South Shore.
However, keeping it safe from Emilio is going to require my being alive. We don’t want to be under the spotlight of a cruel king and his fucked-up ways. We’re betraying and leaving him, but we can’t until Cairo gains the Titan spot in Wharf Bay. We have no power backing us without it, but we have money.
But not everyone can be bought, and we desire loyalty and pride over greed and two-timing fuckheads.
I mouth Bay’s name and tears glisten in her eyes that she refuses to let fall.
And it’s then that I see my twin sister, Rosalie.
How she begged me to stop when I thrusted my cock deep inside my own flesh and blood.
How each time I stopped and cried, my mother would have me whipped with a belt, stab me with the end of a cigarette, slice me with a blade, and demand that I come.
I’ve hid behind a mask of humor and lived a lie that I’m fine because I refuse to delve down a road of darkness that I never see myself coming out of. I’ve been there, done that. I’m so fucked up that the name sinner doesn’t quite fit my name but a monster.
Rapist.
Incest.
Shame.
Disgusting, all seems to be the core words of my anatomy. And when I thought my past was behind me, and I’d hear shitty comments from men like Greevy running his mouth, I’m back at the age of fourteen. I’ve been made an example out of, I’ve done things that are unspeakable, and my loyalty for lusting to fuck women only tested.
Though I’m a stubborn motherfucker, and my mama could never totally break me. Out of, not only spite, but my being so headstrong, I’d never allow her to win.
“Boys!” Torin calls out on the phone. “Come watch the show Reeve is gonna put on with the princess of South Shore.”
I hear more hoots and hollers of the motherfuckers behind me, and I’m gonna kill them all. Maybe not today, but they’re all gonna get buried in the ground soon enough. Torin’s plan is risky as hell, stupid even, but he’s not so blinded by his dislike for South Shore or Bay Astor to ever have her raped.
“Fight me,” I mutter quickly. “Punch me, pinch, I don’t give a fuck. I’m gonna pull your pants down in a minute and you’re gonna fight me like you would anyone else who’s putting their hands on you. Make it real, Bay. Your life and mine fucking depends on it.”
I seize her throat, watching her eyes widen in surprise again, and I fight back the nervousness that creeps up my spine.
This has to work.
If not, we’re both so fucked it’s not even funny.
“I’m not gonna fuck you, but I’m gonna get awfully close, baby. Make it real. Call me every fucking name. I’m so sorry.”
I straighten my spine and feel an unwanted presence at my side again. Glimpsing over my shoulder to Greevy, she responds back with, “Do you want to fucking die?”
Yes.
Kinda.
I’d rather run away from all this and never come back to The Landings, but my brothers need me. I’ve never let them down before, and I’m not going to now, because they are literally all I have left in this world.
Slowly, I steer my forming glare to Bay, playing the role I perform almost every day I’m out of my shell. “And who’s gonna do that?”
The punch to my ribs that follows explains the thought she had in mind and, well…I told her to carry out what she’d do.
And now I have to do mine.
I answer her hit with one of my own, plowing my tightly clenched hand into her gut in response and she keels over.
Stepping away, I motion with my hand to a dude named Brooks. “Something to tie this bitch up with.”
Bay moves again, slamming her heel into the top of my foot before swinging on me, and motherfuck.
I liked her the moment I saw her swing on Davis weeks ago and now I understand what that bastard felt. Also, I realize, I don’t enjoy being on this side either.
Sucking in a snarl, a pair of handcuffs fly in my direction. The cool metal hits my fingertips, and I fight the urge to drop them before slapping one over one of her wrists. She kicks up her ninja game a notch, headbutting me and catching me in the chin, rattling my teeth together, and this time I roar out in frustration and pain.
The men behind me continue on with their sick laughter and words of encouragement when I finally get Bay’s other wrist. She thrusts her pretty face at me again, but I catch it with my palm.
We can act all day—whether her side is real or not—but I’m definitely going to stop getting my ass hit if I can.
Quickly scanning the street and buildings surrounding us, I look for my prayer. The one who’s gonna catch me in this act and get me out of it.
When a slap to my shoulder pulls me from my hope, I had forgotten Greevy and his dark blue eyes riding down Bay’s front.
Didn’t I just tell this jackoff to fuck off?
“You need help?” My grin must speak volumes as I quickly flick my own gaze down the length of his methed-out, lanky frame.
He steps the fuck back like I just shocked him with it, obviously a homophobe to his very core, and I begin unbuckling Bay’s tiny shorts.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hollers out, flaying in all directions, squirming against my body as I sandwich her between my Audi and me. “Motherfuckin’ piece of shit!”
“Not any bigger than your South Shore slum, sweetheart,” I sneer back. “You wanna ride me bare?” My own words send a second wave of nausea coursing through my body at how foul and unpalatable they sound. If she’s extremely lucky, I’m not going to throw up all over her.
“Are you gonna even be able to find my pussy, dickhead. I bet you're packing the mini version of a grown man.” A bunch of ow’s and high fives sound behind me, but I ignore them and her.
She doesn’t mean it—I think.
“Let’s find out”—I shove her jeans down her thighs and step between the crotch area with the heel of my shoe to bring them down to her ankles—“if I can make you scream or just stare at me.”
I remove my semi-hard cock from my own pants and Bay hits me with the largest and most fierce glare I’ve had the pleasure of seeing.
“Touch me,” she seethes as I lift her by her thighs and wrap those sexy legs around me. “And I will personally make sure The Nameless chop your entire dick off.”
The boys chuckle harder and taunt her to make it happen. That they’re nothing but a bunch of pussies trying to make a name for themselves and this is going to help him.
My used to be future girl is going to hand over a story for them to spread and boost about. South Shore isn’t even their enemy by right, but if Levi Wallace finds out about this, I can probably confidently say that Emilio Wildes may be the least of my fucking worries.
“Gotta catch me first,” I taunt back and, making it look like I’m about to slide my dick inside what, I’m sure, is the tightest and most feel-good pussy around, I glide against her slit and to her ass.
Bay gasps loudly, only helping out with what I’m trying to make it look like I’m doing. I stay as close as I can to her, creating the illusion that I’m balls deep in her and not coming back up for anything less.
“Fuck.” It’s definitely not an act, her wetness slides against my growing cock, and what I’ve wanted since I met her is right within my reach. “So fucking good, sweetheart.”
Bay’s cuffed hands ball into fists and slam into my chest—once, twice, and three times. “Don’t call me”—My pelvis slams between her legs and she squeals out in pain. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but it’s better than someone actually trying to fuck her.
“Yeah?” I mock. “What are you gonna do about it?” I propel my body against hers, only rubbing my cock against her wet, teasing cunt and ass. “Fuck, I wonder if South Shore would sell this pretty pussy—” Her bound hands fly back to one side of her head, crashing into my cheek within the next second.
I chuckle darkly, welcoming the pain she’s inflicting.
Giving me something else to focus on besides defiling and humiliating the girl I’ve wanted to give me some attention toward.
I can kiss all that shit goodbye because this is it. She’ll never fucking talk to me again, and I can’t ever make this right. You definitely don’t fake fuck a girl in front of a bunch of horny pieces of shit and expect her to fall madly and deeply in love with you.
“Don’t like dirty talk?” I provoke through my teeth, fixing my focus on her, because I need an anchor. I need a fucking joint and this nightmare to end.
Literally about to wear the title of a Minute Man just so I can stop this shit as quickly as possible.
“Fuck her ass!” someone calls out, causing everyone else to get even rowdier, if that’s possible. “I wanna see blood!”
Bay makes a go at me again, and I catch a wrist while trying to keep her weight pinned to the car.
“Damn, man.” I see Greevy reach to touch one of her tits, and I fucking lose it. My cool gun is back in my palm and shoved underneath his noisy chin.
“Back the fuck off,” I snarl out, pulling back on the hammer in my last warning for him to either listen or lose his head.
He doesn’t take it.
In fact, he’s still looking at Bay with pure lust and hunger in his eyes. That given the opportunity, he’d really rape her against her will.
“Move her around so I can fuck her ass,” he mutters as if he’s in a mindless trance and all he can see is her. “I want a piece.”
Bending forward, I whisper in Bay’s ear, smelling the slight hint of motor oil stuck to the sweat of her skin, “Close your eyes, baby. And tell me when.”
“When.” I smile at her smart-ass, then glimpse over my chest at the ravenous piece of shit who wants my girl, and I don’t hesitate. I yank back on the trigger, his warm blood splattering all over my face as he slumps dead to the concrete.
Bay squeals out in surprise, cowering closer to me, her balled-up hands sandwiched between our chests. “Hold on to me with your thighs,” I whisper to her, hinting that I’m having a hell of a time, holding her wrist, weight, and keeping my cock nestled between her thighs. “Did you like that?” I say, loud enough to her and everyone else listening. “I don’t like sharing. Especially when I know this pussy is tight...your ass would be glorious.”
“Get off—” A distinct whizz of air cuts her off, along with the crack of a gun, and I smile.
My prayer has been answered.
The ruckus of shock and surprise from the assholes present is the only distraction I need to drop Bay to her feet, then yank up her shorts, before pulling her to the ground for fake cover against the fender of my car.
“Alright, baby”—I glance over my shoulder to find AKs and Glocks aimed and going off in the direction of the shot—“this is goodbye for now.”
“Reeve, you?—”
“ Stay in South Shore until you hear from me.” I meet her eyes, which are now dark against the lack of light. With everything in me, I long to see them, how they read, and how much she hates me at the moment. “And I’m going to apologize again…because he’s not ready for you to see him yet.”
Her brows immediately furrow, and I don’t double-guess, check, or procrastinate just like I have before.
Even if I have to physically hurt her, which is the last fucking thing I’d ever want to do, this is life or death.
This is a game.
This is her life, and I will not allow it to be taken.
“Who?” Bay’s question is laced with confusion. Her soft voice and heavy pants fill my ears, and my chest tightens into a taut ball of this is it.
Goodbye, Bay.
“Wait in South Shore.”
“But—” My fist flies into Bay’s face so hard it hurts my knuckles, but not any more than the ending of our story that was just blooming.
I can keep telling myself that knocking her out is the only way she’s getting out of here without being passed on to someone else after my fake raping session and that’s true. However, it’ll never hold.
I catch Bay’s head before it falls mercilessly to the unforgiving ground and pluck my cell from the top of my ride, knowing I’m not a target in this shootout.
“Thanks, brother,” I tell Torin, who’s surprisingly still on the line.
“She alright?”
“Pissed…” I glance down at her unconscious and peaceful face, a strand of raven hair carelessly lying on her forehead. “But fine.”
“Good…you good?”
My nostrils flare, because I’m not, but I’m not going to make this into something. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t call the men off yet,” Torin replies. “Let him have his fun with a couple of them before you do. He’s upset.”
I bob my head, even though he can’t see it. I don’t want to leave her, but I have no right to be around when she does come to.
“He’ll take her home.”
Right.
She’s in good hands now.
Better than mine, at least.
Because my fantasy of touching her will never play out like it has a million times in my head.
Bay Astor and I, we’re fucking done.