2. Fury
Chapter 2
Fury
I stare at the whiskey on my table and then fill my glass up again. The bottle is still half full, but I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve refilled my glass. I don’t think it’s been enough, because defeat is still bitter on my tongue. Torrent’s sister is nowhere in Phoenix. I tracked down the church, gave them the information I found in Florida, only to be told that Torrent’s sister—whose name is actually Rayne Meyers—had taken a job with a sister church in Chicago. My first thought was how many fucking sister churches are there? I’ve been traveling all over the fucking world and it’s getting old. My second thought is that I failed Devil and Torrent. I wanted her to have her sister safe and home before Christmas. Calling them tonight was the hardest thing I’ve done in a while. Devil told me not to worry, that he and Gunner would handle it, but I know the last thing he wants to do is to leave his woman right now.
At least I got answers. That wasn’t easy—not by a long shot. There’s one thing about these damn nuns. They protect their own. I can respect that. Luckily, when I showed them Torrent’s letter her father left that explained about her sister and the danger she might be in, they let me know that Rayne wasn’t there and where I could find her. I also got their word they wouldn’t share that information with anyone else and was reassured that no one had been there searching for Rayne. That at least made Torrent feel a little better. I’ve got to find Wolf, though. He’s been in the wind for way too fucking long. The bastard needs to die.
I take another drink on that thought. I really thought I’d find him here in Phoenix. He had definitely been in Florida. Scorpion found that little nugget out when a woman came forth to the local police saying he had raped her. I met the woman, she’d definitely had the shit beat out of her. It is just another reason that Wolf needs to die. I tracked him down to a shack that the bastard had been staying in. It was empty, of course, and sitting next to a swamp. I’d hoped he’d been eaten by a gator, but sadly that wasn’t the case. Scorpion was able to get security footage of the fucker buying a ticket at the airport in Jacksonville. We couldn’t find out what name he was using or where he was going on our own, but with some help from a connection with the Florida State Police, it was clear he was headed out this way, though not Arizona. He bought a ticket to Texas. I should have flown there maybe, but when we got information on Rayne, I decided to get to her first. Now, I have nothing but a half-empty bottle of Jack. I’m feeling pretty fucking empty on my own.
Hell, I’ve been lonely since Ellie left. That woman owned a piece of me and I doubt that the void she left will ever be filled. I talk a good game in front of my brothers, but it’s all bullshit. I’m grieving for a woman who walked away from me without a second look. Fuck, the last thing I need to think about is her while I’m drunk. It’s probably just because I’m so close to where her family lives. I never tracked her down. She walked away and fuck it. If I didn’t mean more to her than that, I didn’t want her. I let her go. For all I know, she could be in Alaska, freezing her tits off. That’d be a shame, because they were fucking good tits. I used to love thrusting my cock between them and painting her face in my cum. Ellie was a gorgeous bitch with soft, gorgeous hair. But, she never bitched about me messing her hair up in bed. She didn’t give a fuck if I bathed her in my cum. She loved sex. She loved anyway I gave it to her and most of the time it was as dirty as I could dream up.
Christ. I’m getting a fucking cock stand just remembering my time with her. All this time my dick has been mostly dead—despite what Devil and the others think. Now, that I’m rising to the occasion, so to speak, there’s not a club whore around.
Just my luck.
I shove my chair out from the table, putting my hand down my pants, I wrap it around my cock and pull it up, because it’s painful as fuck. The tip hangs out over my belt but that’s better than where it was before. There’s pre-cum on the head.
“Jesus, I need laid.”
“I thought men were supposed to get limp when they drink as much as you are.”
My gaze moves slowly over the woman with small, but firm, tits—nothing like my Ellie’s. She’s wearing a skin tight top and denim shorts. She’s got thick blonde hair, not quite the same shade as Ellie’s but it’s long enough I could wrap my hand in it and feed her my cock. She’s also got this deep shade of red lipstick on. My gaze stops there.
Plush, sugary-sweet lips, in a deep red.
The sight of them definitely reminds me of Ellie. If I can’t have her…
One crystal clear thought begins to take root in my whiskey-fogged head.
“I’m not most men.”
“Oh, I can definitely tell that,” she grins. When she grins, her lips thin out and I frown in dislike. Ellie never had thin lips, fuck the more I kissed them they’d swell and somehow get even fucking sweeter. “Are you looking for some company?” she asks. I see it on her face. I’m fine with it. Hell, I can even respect it. She’s not looking for a night of sex as much as the money it will put in her pocket.
“Not really,” I tell her truthfully. Company is the last fucking thing I want. I don’t want a woman in my bed at the hotel. I don’t want to have to wake up and kick some bitch out in the cold. Still, I could use something to take the edge off tonight.
“Now, that’s a damn shame.”
“I like your lipstick,” I tell her before she can turn away.
“You do?” she asks, with a startled laugh.
“Fuck, yeah. It makes me wonder.”
“Wonder?” she asks.
“What it would look like on my cock,” I tell her, taking another drink and judging her reaction.
Her eyes widen, but I don’t think it’s in shock.
“Well, I could show you…for a price.”
And there it is. Cards on the table.
“How much we talking?” I ask her, putting my glass on the table.
“We can go back to your place and?—”
“I don’t have a place. I have a shitty-ass motel room that’s barely fit to shit in. The last thing I want is a woman there. So, that’s out.”
“I could take you to my?—”
“Here. I want you here.”
“Maybe…the bathroom? Or at the back of the building?” she suggests
Now, I see the real shock on her face. I pull out my billfold, thankful I got some extra cash out at the bank. I didn’t think this is what I’d use it for, but I’m damn glad. I take out a couple of hundreds and lay them on the table.
“Right here, right now. You, on your knees under the table, my cock stuck so far back in your mouth you’re choking on it and you swallow down every bit of my cum and don’t come up for air.”
I see her body shiver. I don’t know if it’s for show. I also don’t give a fuck.
She looks around the crowded club. I’m in the back, but it’s not dark. There’s every chance in the fucking world people will see her. I don’t really give a fuck about that either. I take out another hundred, and put it with the others.
“Three hundred bucks to give you a hummer?” she asks.
“And swallow it down.”
“You have a fucking disease I should know about?”
“Do you?” I return, not really caring. She doesn’t look sick, not that you can tell from that shit. There’s also a part of me that doesn’t give a fuck what happens to me. I’m tired. I’ve been fucking tired for so long…
She reaches over and grabs the money, stuffing it into her bra. Her sadly slim tits show the money easily and I frown, visions of Ellie’s full breasts that overfilled her bra every fucking time, float into my mind. Luckily, I won’t have to see this girl’s tits, because she’ll be under the table.
“I’m going to rock your world. What’s your name?” she asks.
“You can call me…Daddy,” I respond with a grin. She laughs, then drops to her knees, crawling under the table. I reach for my glass, take another drink, then close my eyes as she undoes my pants.
Fuck, Ellie. This right here is all I need. Tomorrow, I’ll meet up with Gunner and Devil in Chicago and I’ll be doing it with a working dick. Maybe then, I’ll finally be able to fuck her memory away.