Chapter 1 #3
He pauses for a moment before his chest rumbles with laughter, grating on my nerves. “Oh really?” He spins me around, so that my ass is pressed against his cock and rolls his hips, grinding against me to the music.
My breath stutters as he brings his mouth to my neck and runs his teeth along the skin, making me feel gross and violated. I want to knee the fucker in the balls, but that’s a bullet in my skull. So I take it, I let him do what he wants if it means getting out of here in one piece.
“Yes,” I hiss out, my teeth clamped so tight I fear I might break a tooth.
“That's funny,” he murmurs against my skin. “Seeing how your daddy is the reason why all those kids are dying.”
My body stills as his words process in my mind. “What?” I shake my head. “No. No, he’s not.”
“Mhhmm, but he is. Edgar Eddy Kennedy better watch what he’s fucking doing before we’re forced to remind him just who he’s fucking with. Any more kids die on our turf, there’s going to be hell to pay."
At the mention of my father’s name, my blood runs cold.
“No,” I shout. “Whoever is doing this, it’s not him. We don’t deal in drugs. This isn’t us.”
My family is well known for a lot of things, but one thing we don’t do is deal in drugs.
My father would never dream of it. Not after what happened with my sister. There’s no fucking way. This guy has the wrong information.
“Oh, sweet sweet Beckham. You’ve been gone for a long time. There’s a lot you’ve missed. A lot you don’t know anymore.”
“And how do you know so much?” I demand.
About me. About my life. About my family.
I’ve never played a big part in the family business, no matter how much my father has been trying to groom me into taking over.
I’ve kept to myself, tried to make myself invisible.
It didn’t work then, so why the fuck did I think it would work now?
“This is my town, Omega.” he growls in my ear. “It’s my job to know every single fucking person who steps foot inside. You don’t think I’d know if the son of a mobster was living here?”
“I’m not here to cause any trouble.” I insist. “I only want to help. They were my students who died.”
“You're barking up the wrong tree,” he says. “If you want to find your bad guy, it’s not me.”
“And it’s not my dad.” I growl, spinning around to face him. “We don’t deal in drugs.”
He narrows his eyes. “I’ve been watching you.
So I believe it when you have no clue what's going on back home. But I think you need to change that. I’ve let you live here, because you didn’t show any signs of fucking with what’s mine.
But now, people are dying and it’s looking bad and drawing unwanted attention on me.
I can’t have that happen. So here’s what you're going to do.” He grips my chin hard enough to bruise as he looks me in the eye.
“You’re going to leave my fucking town and never come back.
I’ll give you this one grace because I don’t believe you're a bad guy. But hear me good. If your family doesn’t back the fuck off, there will be war.
” He lets go of me, shoving me backwards.
“Go. Now.” He growls, pure murder in his eyes.
I don’t want to leave. I want to know more. Like why he believes it’s my father, what is the proof?
But I know if I don’t go now, I’ll never leave this building again.
So I bite down my anger and leave.
It’s not until I’m a few blocks down the street that I’m finally able to stop and think, to breathe and process what the fuck just happened.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I let out a shaky breath, tears of frustration and confusion threatening to spill.
My body shakes the whole way home. By the time I’m in my dingy little apartment, I’m a fucking mess.
I claw at my clothes like they’re smothering me as I make my way to the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as my body can handle, I get under the spray and scrub at my body, his alpha bark having left this gross feeling all over me.
My skin is red and raw by the time the water runs cold. Getting out of the shower, I change into some pajama pants and a loose shirt before crawling into my nest.
Rolling onto my side, I stare at the wall, wondering what the fuck do I do now.
What the fuck just happened?
There’s too much for my brain to process right now.
But the one thing I know is, I need to get out of this town. I’m not safe here.
As much as I don’t want to leave my job, because I enjoy teaching my students, I have to.
There will be other teaching jobs, it’s not worth risking my safety for a school that doesn’t even appreciate me.
The question is, do I find a new town to start over in or do I go back home?
Rickie said my father is the one to blame for these bad drugs. Drugs that kids are dying from.
It’s not true. I might not be as in touch with the workings of my family as I once was, but my father isn’t the one to blame for this, that much I do know.
And I can’t just ignore that people are blaming my family.
Does my father know about this? About what people are trying to pin on him?
Guess there’s only one way to find out.
BECKHAM
Last night was one of the worst sleeps of my life. My brain wouldn’t shut off. All I could think about was who was lying. I haven’t been very close with my father in years, but I know one thing he was very adamant on: no dealing dirty drugs.
Watching your daughter overdose is enough to scar you for life.
My family aren’t good people. We kill the people who do us wrong, lie to get what we want and scheme to get what we can’t.
But one line my father won’t cross is harming innocent women and children. Knowing how easy it is for teenagers to get their hands on drugs these days, and how easy it was for my sister to go down that road, my father vowed never to be the one to contribute to that outcome.
If teenagers were going to die by drugs, it wouldn’t be by his hand.
Then why the hell is this Rickie fucker so adamant that it’s my family behind this?
As if my father can feel I’m thinking of him, my cell phone goes off.
“Hello?”
“That was fast.” My father huffs. “I know you get up early for work, but it’s a weekend. And you don’t sound a bit tired.”
Sighing, I swing my legs out of my bed and lean over the edge, my elbows resting on my knees. “Been up for hours.” I grunt, running a hand through my hair, closing my eyes as exhaustion hits me. A nap may be needed to get me through this weekend. Hell, to get me through the day.
“You don’t sound good. Are you okay?”
Do I tell him I’ve been forced to resign? If I do, that's only going to lead to more questions.
I need to handle this carefully. I can’t outright ask him if he’s behind the drugs, he can easily lie if he was, and I’d lose any upper hand I have.
“Stressed,” I tell him. “A few students on campus have died over the past few months. And I just found out a student that meant a lot to me passed.”
“What the hell is going on at that school? I knew that place was too beneath you. Students just murdering each other and nothing's being done about it? At least be smarter if you're going to kill someone." he huffs.
My brows jump. Is he for real?
“The students aren’t killing each other,” I grumble. “They’re overdosing.”
He’s quiet and for a moment, I think he hung up. “Young people being stupid, or something more?”
“Something more.”
“Those Serpents are dirty dealers, I fucking knew it. Never trusted the lot of them. Always make sure to stay far away from doing any sort of business with them. Thought they cleaned up their act once Reco’s son Rickie took over.
Clearly, not.” He fumes. “You shouldn’t be working at that school.
Or living in that damn town Beckham. You should be here, home, where you belong. ”
Either my dad is a really good actor, and for this job you have to be, or he really thinks Serpents are involved in this.
“Are you sure it’s them? Could be anyone.” I press.
“That’s Serpents’ territory. Who else would it be? They wouldn’t allow anyone else on their turf. They play dirty and wouldn’t think twice about going to war over the smallest thing. No one would risk it. Not worth their time.”
“You think?”
“What are you going on about Beckham? Is there something you want to ask me?”
“No. Just wondering who else it could be.”
“Who ever it is, they’re fucking stupid. How many kids died this year?”
“Five.” It kills me to say.
“Five!” He roars. “Five students are dead because of those fuckers?” I can tell he’s pissed. No faking that fury.
“Looks like it.”
Rickie says it’s my father, my father is saying it’s Rickie. From how furious the both of them are, I don’t think it’s either of them.
So that means, my family’s name is being framed for this.
But by who?
There’s a list of people who hate my family. It wouldn’t be hard to believe one of them could be shifting the attention onto us. Still, that’s a big gamble to take. My father tries to stay out of the spotlight as much as he can, but fuck with his family and he will come out to play.
When that happens, it’s not good for anyone.
After my sister died, my father was determined to find who was the cause of the dirty drugs. Turns out it was this low level crime family a few states over looking to make quick money fast.
Didn’t work out for them. Dad killed their whole family in one swoop. No mercy.
And, then he killed anyone else who was involved in dealing the drugs, even the harmless dealers. Once that was done, he disposed of any of the merchandise.
Word spread within the criminal underground and since then, there hasn’t been anyone dealing dirty drugs. At least not to this level.
Any number of deaths is too much, but this amount isn’t normal.
Right now, the police think it’s just a bunch of delinquent kids taking it too far because every student who’s died has a past of either drug abuse or some sort of criminal history.
As far as I know, Chad wasn’t like that.