15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
N o issues cropped up with the dealers the next time around. Most of them had heard about the two dealers they’d killed and chose to be on their best behavior.
Meg stayed in the trailer the whole time, and Naz saw her less. It helped him to focus, but it also kept him on edge.
He didn’t feel settled until he held Meg at night. It was a problem on the nights that Julio kept her until nearly dawn. Rocks would come and kick them out before Naz fully calmed, and he felt like shit the whole next day.
He hadn’t slept well that night either. Nightmares crept in and tightened his throat. The relived memories were so much worse than having just their voices in his head during the day.
He woke with a whimper in his throat that it took effort to swallow.
Meg’s weight against him helped to calm his racing heart. Her dark, wavy hair sprawled across his shoulder and tickled his neck. He brushed it away with his hand, but the thick feel of it made his palm tingle. He brushed over her hair again, deciding he liked the feel of it. His fingers caught on a tangle, and he carefully worked around it as he continued his slow stroking.
Meg’s breathing changed. He knew he’d woken her and should stop, but he didn’t really want to. She rubbed his smooth head sometimes. This wasn’t really that different, though it felt like it was.
She didn’t pull away, instead pretending to be asleep. He decided that meant she didn’t mind his touch either.
When she pressed her face into his chest to smother a groan, he froze. Her groan wasn’t one of pain. Her body shifted into him, as if she could get closer, and one of her thighs lifted over his, making his leg press between hers.
Nerves skittered along his spine when he realized how she was responding. A lightheadedness seeped over him, and shadows narrowed his vision. He needed to leave. He needed to leave right now.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Julio said from the bedroom doorway.
He stared at her leg, at the way Naz’s shirt, which she always changed into before sleeping with him, had ridden up her thigh.
Meg didn’t scramble and jump away. She rolled to her back away from Naz, the shirt riding up higher as she stretched her arms over her head, as if just waking up. Her black underwear matched the black of his shirt, but it also looked completely different, especially with her tanned skin against the curve between her legs.
Naz felt like his skin was being peeled off.
Julio didn’t meet his gaze but stared between her legs, his lip curling. “Wake up horny, baby?” he asked.
“Only if you are. We did plenty last night.” Meg laughed and then let out a surprised gasp, scrambling off the bed. “Oh, is that for me?”
Naz forced his narrowed gaze to focus on the red clothing she took from Julio’s hand. The material unrolled to reveal a dress, one that had a short skirt and strings.
Meg didn’t like dresses. Or at least, she’d once told him she didn’t, but she was beaming up at Julio. “Thank you! It’s gorgeous.” Her smile was still in place when she turned her head to look into Naz’s gray eyes. “Red is my second favorite color,” she murmured, as if the words were just for him.
Julio grabbed her neck, jerking her toward him. “Watch your fucking mouth. Where’s the gratitude?”
“Thank you!” she rushed out, her hands tightening on the dress as if to hold on to something. “I said thank you! It’s perfect, really.”
Naz’s muscles had bunched, and his body felt like a wire pulled too tight and ready to spring.
Julio released her, and she stumbled back, catching herself against the bed.
“Don’t wear it until tonight. We’re going out.” Julio turned and stalked away.
Meg’s breath shuddered. “That was stupid. So fucking stupid.” She spread the dress out across the end of the bed, near Naz’s legs but not touching him. Her hand traced the edge of the skirt. “It’s pretty.”
But her voice sounded dull as she said it, and she wasn’t smiling.
She stood, pulling his shirt over her head. She only wore it when they slept together, and it wasn’t the first time she’d stripped it off in front of him to change.
Naz had gotten used to seeing her naked. Between her having sex with Julio anywhere and everywhere and moments like this, he’d thought he’d become immune to it. Her body wasn’t the same as a man’s. Her stomach looked softer. He loved her long, swaying hair; hair he’d already touched too much that day.
Meg had breasts. They weren’t huge, but they held a curve and a slight jiggle when she moved that drew his eye sometimes.
She wasn’t moving now, and he couldn’t look away. He’d always found her brown nipples pretty against her skin tone, but as he stared at them, it was as if the nipples shrunk into themselves, tightening into points.
Meg gasped out a shuddering breath, and his gaze flew from her breasts to her face, where her mouth had become slack. She stared back at him with pupils that had blown wide.
“Sorry.” The word sounded like a whimper as she dragged on her tight shirt to cover up, reaching for her shorts. “God, I—” She sat on the dress to pull them on, hopping up again as if the red material burned her. “I’m sorry for this whole fucking morning.”
Then she left without looking at him.
Naz stared at the dress she’d left behind. The shadows at the edge of his vision had faded, but he still sucked at seeing anything.
Naz wasn’t stupid. He’d seen Meg turned on plenty.
Hopefully, she found Julio to take care of it.
When Naz thought about sex, it was normally with disgust and shame and a need to get away from thinking about it.
For the first time, he just felt sad. He shouldn’t have touched her at all. Not if he couldn’t touch her the way she wanted.
The muscles in his neck ached with tension as he realized Meg might not always be fine with what they had between them.
They wouldn’t have much more time together anyway, and it would be good for her to get sick of him. A cleaner break.
It didn’t feel good.
He picked up the dress, resting it over the couch arm instead. No way was he bringing it over to the other trailer, not if Meg had an itch she needed scratched.
Meg enjoyed sex. She sought it out.
But the thought of seeing her at it right now had nausea curling in his stomach.
He moved to the kitchen. Eating might make the feeling worse, but it also made him concentrate on the movement of his mouth and tongue and throat.
If he focused on that, the thoughts of Meg would fade enough to get through whatever Julio had planned for the day.
T he club was loud and crowded and bright. Every part of it drummed inside of Naz’s head, making him feel like it was going to crack.
When he’d first been hired out by Ramiro, it had been as muscle for a club. He’d only lasted a few days before his nerves splintered into tiny pieces and he lost his shit.
Ramiro had been frustrated, but Diego had told him he was an idiot for thinking it would go better. They’d shown up right away to help clean up the mess Naz had made.
He tried to avoid clubs now.
It didn’t help that Julio looked like he’d toked up before they left. There was a brightness to his eyes even without the flashing lights. His grip around Meg was almost a brand with how hard he squeezed. His nails dug into the skin showing at her side, below her breasts.
The dress looked stunning on her even if she did hate it, but it left little covered. The skirt was high on her thighs, high enough to almost flash her underwear as they walked ahead of Naz. Huge patches of material were carved out of the torso, leaving her sides and most of her stomach bare, with only a thin band of material covering her belly button and flaring wider as it rose to cover her breasts.
The strings leading from the tops of her breasts to around her neck and swaying along her back and ass kept catching Naz’s attention. She’d pulled up her hair, and the tail of it swished with the strings as she walked.
Naz didn’t like those strings. They made it look like one good tug and her whole dress would just slide right off, leaving her vulnerable among all these strangers.
She kept smiling up at Julio and laughing, but the falseness of her laugh was as grating in Naz’s ears as the drumming bass of the music.
Julio didn’t keep them in the crowd for long. He led them to one of the VIP rooms on the upper floor, and the glass door swished shut behind them, dulling the music by a decibel or two.
That deep bass beat still thrummed under his skin.
Rocks and Naz took their positions by the door while Seb and Miguel followed Julio and Meg toward the couches.
“This is wild!” Meg’s eyes looked glassy. Julio had talked her into doing a line earlier, saying that she’d need it that night. Meg had tensed, but she hadn’t put up more of a fight.
There was something in her eyes that had been bothering Naz all day, but when he’d tried to ask her about it on the Notes app, she’d said she was fine.
Just like with Diego, Naz had known she was lying, but he didn’t push.
Julio pressed against Meg’s body and kissed her, his tongue moving into her mouth. Time stretched while he devoured her. There was a wet sound when he pulled away that Naz shouldn’t have been able to hear so clearly from his position by the door.
“You’re the one that needs to be wild tonight, baby. Come here.” He dragged her down on one of the plush sofas to sit beside him, turning her face so he could study her eyes. “You coming down already?”
She shook her head in his loose grip, curling her legs up on the couch to press her torso into him.
The movement brought Julio’s gaze to her feet, covered in the striped cloth shoes Naz had bought for her back when she’d walked to the convenience store in bare feet.
“Why the fuck did you wear those ugly things?” Julio asked with a scowl.
The pitch of Meg’s laugh was too high. “These are all I have. You didn’t buy me anything that matched the dress.”
His grip on her face tightened, making her hand scramble for his wrist. “You blaming me? I bought you a fucking dress.”
“It wasn’t blame!” His palm over her mouth muffled the words.
“She’s got a point, Julio,” Seb cut in. “It’s not like she’s been walking around in heels.”
Julio released her, and her hand dropped from his wrist like lead, gripping the couch as she stared down at it.
“Take them off,” Julio said.
Meg nodded. Her hands were slow as she slipped them off, though, as if she didn’t want to. “I might lose them,” she mumbled, gripping them hard in her hands.
“I don’t give a shit,” Julio said.
Meg’s lip trembled.
Naz stepped forward, holding out his hands.
Her trembling stopped. Meg looked up at him before placing her shoes in his hands.
“She’s not fucking Cinderella,” Julio muttered.
Naz tucked each shoe into one of his back pockets, though they still stuck out. He’d worn his jacket to cover his gun, but it worked for the shoes as well.
The club was owned by the Guzmans, so they got to keep their weapons on them, but flashing them in public never ended well. Plenty of bodies were crushed into the building that weren’t cartel.
“Give me those feet,” Julio said, dragging them onto his lap and making Meg flail, her hands catching her balance again as she leaned back.
Julio pressed his thumb along her arch, drawing out a soft moan. “Yeah. Bare feet are sexier. You like that?”
Meg bit her lip but nodded.
He laughed, crawling over her and forcing her to lie back on the couch fully. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
Naz tensed by the door, letting his eyes lose focus. The sounds of wet kissing were only a prelude and made the scrape of the noise from the music even worse in his head.
“Get out, Naz,” Julio said.
His gaze focused at the order.
Julio wasn’t even looking at him. He stared down at the flushed Meg beneath him.
“I won’t make you watch me fuck her,” Julio said, his hand already moving under her skirt. “I know you hate that.”
Meg’s head turned away. She stared into the back of the couch, her nails sinking into the cushion beneath her.
Naz didn’t want to be there. Already his skin was crawling and his vision dimming. He wasn’t going to be much of a bodyguard if he lost his shit.
But there was a falseness twisting in his mind. Julio didn’t give a shit if he was uncomfortable. And Meg had been off since she’d been given that damn dress.
Julio’s head turned when Naz didn’t move. “Get the fuck out. I can’t have you tense as shit in here. It won’t give the right impression.”
Naz’s eyes narrowed.
Seb crossed to him, nudging him toward the door and taking over his position.
Julio grabbed Meg between her legs. “You ready to be fucked? I’m going to take you hard.”
The words echoed in Naz’s head, and the door was closing Julio’s laughter in behind him before he could process how he’d gotten there. He moved down the hall nearly blind, passing a couple of other VIP rooms and the bathrooms before he found the far wall.
His back pressed against it, with a fire exit on one side and stairs leading back down on the other, some of the Guzmans’ bouncers positioned at the bottom. They eyed him for a moment before turning back to face the crowd.
The flashing lights crept up the stairway, making it even harder to focus. Whatever song had been playing changed; the bass reduced and let the pounding in his head dull.
Down the corridor, two men approached the VIP room Naz had left along with a server carrying a bottle and glasses on a tray.
The men entered, but the server slipped quickly back out.
Even though the door was glass, Naz couldn’t see past the backs of Seb and Rocks, except for some flashes of color. He tried to focus on the slices of red.
The bass picked up again with the next dozen songs, beating out all other thoughts. The voices in his head lurked under the sound, but they hadn’t taken over like he’d expected.
When the glass door opened, it wasn’t the two men leaving. Julio gripped Meg’s arm while she clutched at her red dress, holding the top of it in place.
Julio said something to her before releasing her arm and going back in alone.
Meg’s head didn’t lift. She shuffled down the corridor, a slight sway in her steps.
Naz pushed off the wall, but when Meg’s head rose at his movement, she flinched and looked away. Her hand pushed blindly at the bathroom door, and she disappeared inside.
The door swung shut in Naz’s face. He stared at the sign on it, the figure with a triangle as if that’s what a skirt looked like, not the limp sway of material stuck to a woman’s thighs.
All the restrooms down in the club would have lines of people trying to get in.
There was no line in the VIP corridor. Naz hadn’t seen anyone else go inside.
He listened through the door, straining to hear something, anything, that would tell him what to do.
All he heard was that fucking bass ripping up his head.
He pushed inside, finding Meg still clutching the top of her dress against her as she stared into the mirror.
She didn’t seem to see him. She just stared at herself. Her lipstick was gone, and black streaks from whatever she’d put around her eyes had smeared, making them look bruised and dull.
“Meg.”
At the sound of her name, she jerked, her eyes finding his in the mirror, her lips twisting. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
He stepped closer, still not sure what to do. Questions built in his throat, useless ones. He’d run away. It’d be hypocritical to ask if she was okay now.
Her name slipped out again instead. “Meg?”
She sighed, her hands shifting at the top of her dress to find the strings. Her hands were shaking too much, and the material sagged, revealing one of her breasts. “Fuck. He made a mess of me. Help me tie this, will you?”
Naz moved closer, careful not to touch her as he found the strings. Meg moved the material to cover her breasts as he pulled the strings behind her neck. His fingers felt clumsy on the delicate cords, but he managed to tie a bow tight enough to hold her dress up. The skin at the back of her neck was mottled red.
“It’s fine,” Meg said, her voice growing steadier. She stared at herself in the mirror again. “Not like this is the first time. I like sex. It’s not a huge thing to be whored out.” She twisted the handle on the sink, the flow of water covering the rushing in Naz’s ears.
“Hand me some of those paper towels, will you?” she asked.
Naz turned to the towel dispenser. He hated the damn hand motion ones. The rip of a towel followed by the whir filled the silence between them, repeating once, twice, a third time before she started speaking again.
“I sort of expected it, you know?” Her hands moved under the water, letting it flow over them while Naz continued to grab more towels from the dispenser. “No man gives a gift for free, so when Julio brought the dress, I knew what was coming. He was making a pretty package to be unwrapped by someone else.” Her lips twisted in the mirror as she stared at her body. “I hate this dress.”
The force of the last words seemed to startle her, and her hand jerked in the water.
Her lips curled up in the shadow of a smile.
Naz put the towels in a pile on the sink counter.
“Thanks,” Meg mumbled, reaching for the first one and soaking it in the water. “Keep them coming.” She lifted her skirt, dragging the wet towel between her legs.
Meg’s underwear was gone. Naz’s gaze focused on the red line dug into her inner thigh.
His hands curled, and he moved back to the dispenser, letting the whir of the machine cover the rough sound of his breathing.
“He didn’t have to rip my damn underwear,” Meg muttered, tossing the used, wet paper on the counter and reaching for another to repeat the process. “Especially if he was going to come inside me. Men are such idiots. It’d serve them right to catch something from me. Goddamn assholes.” She threw another on the counter, reaching for more.
Naz brought another stack for her.
Her movements became rough with the next one, and she winced.
Naz reached for her wrist, stilling her.
“I’ve got to get rid of as much as I can,” she mumbled, staring down at their hands. “I hate the feel of it.”
Naz reached for another towel with his other hand, rinsing it and bringing it between her legs.
A breath shuddered out of Meg, brushing across his neck as he wiped her more gently than she was doing.
“Ignacio…” Her voice broke on his name, and she swayed toward him. When she tugged against his hold, he released her wrist.
They tossed their used paper towels onto the sink together, and Naz reached for another one.
Meg’s legs moved wider, giving him more room. He wiped the residue off of her glistening thighs as she clutched at his arm with one hand and continued to hold her dress up with the other.
“It wasn’t horrible sex,” she mumbled.
Her eyes closed when he brought the next towel between her legs, catching more leakage.
“He was too fucking old, but I guess he’s learned a thing or two. He got me off.”
The muffled bass continued to beat in his head. Naz turned the water warmer for the next pass, holding the warmed towel against her down below.
“It was my choice. Not like I said no. I was worried that—” She swallowed, her head falling forward, her forehead resting against his chest. “This was better. It was only one old man who could seriously work his dick. The others just watched.”
Naz hadn’t been watched. It had only ever been one at a time for him. Older men, that was familiar, but the images had all blurred together. He waited for their voices to mingle in his head and suck him down into his memories.
All he heard was his thumping heartbeat, or maybe that was still the bass, as he finished cleaning Meg.
She let her skirt drop when he pulled the paper towel away this time. Her arms wrapping tight around his waist surprised him into dropping it. Her face pressed against his shirt, muffling her words.
“Not like I was ever pure. Not since I got my period and—” Her words choked off as her grip clamped even harder.
She turned her face, her cheek nuzzling against him. “Julio was okay with someone filling up my pussy besides him. That’s not good.” Tension filled her shoulders, and Naz dropped his chin to brush against the top of her head.
“At least I don’t have to worry about an abortion again,” she mumbled. “I’m so glad they agreed to put it in after I had one.” She sighed, her grip easing so she could pull away. “I’m grateful to have that IUD. I can’t go through that again.”
“You have an IUD?”
At the sound of Julio’s voice, Meg jerked back, clipping her elbow on the sink.
The still-flowing water was the only sound in the bathroom besides that fucking bass.
Julio sneered as he released the bathroom door, stalking toward her.
Naz moved between them, making Julio pull up short.
“Move out of the fucking way,” Julio barked at him.
Naz felt the slow, sure pulse of his heart. He shook his head, waiting for Julio to make a move.
Julio snorted. “Fine. Not like I want to hurt her or anything. Not after such an epic night.” He grinned, leaning to the side to see Meg. He stabbed a finger toward her. “But don’t fucking lie to me again. Wasting my goddamn money.”
He turned away, heading toward the door. “We’re leaving soon.”
Naz stared at the shut door. He told himself it was better that Julio had backed down. Julio was a Guzman. Beating his ass in a club his family owned wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.
He still wanted to do it, though.
Meg clutched his arm, shaking it. “You can’t do that. Not for me.”
Naz looked at her. He didn’t agree.
“You don’t even want me, Ignacio!” she snapped, releasing him. “Don’t fuck up your life.”
He continued to stare at her, and she was the one to look away.
“My face still looks awful.” Her feet slapped against the tiled floor as she moved closer to the sink, reminding him that they were bare.
Meg soaked another towel, wiping the black streaks away from her eyes before turning off the water. She tossed everything in the garbage, even the paper towel he’d dropped on the floor.
When she would have walked past him to the doorway, Naz snagged her hand, pulling her back.
She looked up at him, the sadness on her face tearing at him.
He dropped her hand to remove her shoes from his back pockets. She watched him kneel, lifting her foot at his urging, then the other. He liked the way the shoes he’d bought looked on her feet.
When he stood, a tear slid down her cheek. He reached out, rubbing it away with his thumb.
“Stop,” she breathed out, her voice choked.
Naz pulled his hand away.
“You—” Her eyes were wide and frightened, like he’d only seen once before. She shook her head. “You’re so fucking dangerous.”
She pushed past him, shoving out of the bathroom.
Naz remained rooted to the floor, unable to follow after her.