Sawyer
She’s all right, but she’s scared out of her mind. I’m not surprised.
I’m not surprised at all. I’m furious.
But not at Zelda.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that was. Some creep who watches the block? I don’t know.” I drop my hands from her face and pull my seat belt on. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes. Yes.” Zelda fumbles for her own belt, clicking it into place as I pull the car away from the curb, picking up speed as we head down the block.
What was Domino thinking, calling me back for this?
It was some chicken-shit amount of money.
The one thing I was right about is that I was collecting from some college kid who thought he could wise-ass his way out of the situation.
The whole thing reeks of bullshit. Domino wanted to teach me a lesson, keep me on my toes.
Well, I’m done being kept on my toes. I’ve been loyal to that guy for five years, and what do I have to show for it? An apartment and a savings account? None of that would be worth anything if that scumbag had gotten to Zelda.
I don’t know what the hell was on his mind, either. Breaking the car window with a chunk of curb? What the fuck?
We’re back on the highway before Zelda speaks again, and one glance tells me she’s shaken. Her face is white, and she keeps a nervous grasp on her phone.
“I have to know.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Know what?” I take in a breath and let it out slowly. Stay in control. Stay in control.
“What your job really is, Sawyer. What was that?”
“The guy at the car—” I run a hand through my hair. “That wasn’t part of my job. That was some crazy bullshit. It’s a bad neighborhood.”
“But why were we there? What would you have to do in a place like that?” Her voice is trembling.
Is there any point in trying to hide it from her? Not after that show.
There’s no point in trying to hide anything. Not anymore. Not from Zelda.
“My dad used to beat the shit out of me.”
Her mouth opens a little in surprise, and her forehead wrinkles up in concern. “He did?”
“Yeah. Nothing I did was good enough for him, and he’d spent his life working a piece of shit job in one of the factories outside of town. He was an angry drunk. That’s why I spent so much time at my Aunt Linda’s. That’s why I’m back there now, and not at his house.”
Zelda’s face is split: half sympathy, half determination. “I—I can’t imagine. But—”
“When I turned eighteen, I moved out of his house and went to the city. I was working shit job after shit job there to pay the rent, but I didn’t want to ever get knocked around again, so every free hour that I had, I spent at a martial arts studio. That’s where I met my current boss.”
She gives a little shake of her head. I catch it out of the corner of my eye.
“He wanted someone to do collections for him.”
“For what kind of business?”
“Drugs.”
Zelda sucks in her breath. “So you—you go and get his money from them?”
“If they haven’t paid already.”
“And you’re—” I can practically feel her eyes on my muscles now, seeing everything differently. “That guy on the street—”
“I hurt people like that guy on the street.” A rush of truth. Can’t stop it. “I hurt them, and I’m good at it, and I like it.”
She’s silent for a long time.
“And this is your job.”
“This is my job.”
Zelda is silent for another long moment. “That’s not good.” These last three words are soft.
“I’m not good.”
Her voice drops to a whisper. “But you saved me.” She gasps in a breath, and I’d bet money that she’s replaying the scene with a different ending. “You saved me. That guy was—”
“That guy was crazy. He was going to break the car window.”
“You saved me.” She’s breathing harder now, and she passes her phone from hand to hand.
“I shouldn’t have let you go with me in the first place.” A disgusted noise rises in the back of my throat. “That was my fault.”
“I wanted to go.”
“That could have—” There’s no point. “It could have turned out badly.”
“It didn’t.”
“Give it time.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m done giving it time.” Zelda’s turned toward me in her seat, her entire body facing my way. “I’m done giving it time,” she says again, and then she whips around, staring out the window. “Stop here.”
“Where—” I almost don’t see the turnoff in time, because it’s a narrow dirt access road. I catch a flash of a sign—Mayberry Nature Preserve—and then Zelda says, “Stop. Right here. Stop now, Sawyer.”
I press on the brakes, bringing the car to a gentle stop, and then I put it in park and meet Zelda’s eyes.
She might still be afraid, but one look at her and I know something else is going on.
The next second, she’s climbing over the center console, straddling my lap, her black dress hiked up over her thighs.
My cock responds instantly, steel hard in a second, and then her hands are on my face, her fingers are tracing my jaw, and her eyes are pools of dark liquid desire reflecting in the bouncing light from the headlights.
“You saved me,” she says one more time, and this time it’s got an undertone of pure need, want, desire.
“Damn right I did.”
“You would never have let him get to me.”
“Not in a million years.”
Even as her lips meet mine she’s reaching down, fumbling for the zipper on my pants, and I put one hand around the back of her head, reaching down to help her with my pants. My cock springs out, finally free, and she bucks against me, her pussy soaking wet through her silky lace panties.
I pull back an inch. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”
She obeys instantly, bracing herself, her hot lips searing like a burning poker against the side of my neck, and I reach down and tear the panties off of her with one quick motion, the fabric ripping like paper in my hands.
Zelda rocks forward, spreading her legs to position herself over my cock. I can’t help grinning then, and an answering smile lights up her face.
She moves to lower herself down, but I put my hands on her hips, holding her up, teasing her.
It takes her no time at all to catch on. She leans down to whisper into my ear. “Please?”
Then I bring her down roughly onto my cock, entering her in one swift motion, and everything else disappears except for her slick wetness, her scalding heat, the muscles working my cock, and her sweet, sweet moans.