Chapter Four
RILEY
Oh my God, I can’t believe I just did that.
I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not in a dream. I’m in sheer panic, disbelief, and ecstasy that I just made Ezekiel Hawthorne orgasm down the front of my panties. Having him wrapped around my finger, stunned and unable to do anything about it… the thought alone makes me soaked.
It all happened so fast. From a menial conversation among the clothing racks to having him locked in my grip, time went by instantly.
The way Uncle Zeke squirmed, moaned, and nearly collapsed at what I was doing.
It all feels so surreal, and it’s all thanks to having just a little bit of courage when he was at my house the other day.
After seeing him turn to Jell-O, I knew I hooked him. I knew I had him.
I leave the strip mall, and head for the bus stop a block over; swamped with emotions and thoughts I can’t shake. The good and bad of this whole situation hit me at once. I want to spend every waking second wrapped in The Ox’s arms, but I can’t.
Coming up with a solution isn’t an easy task.
I’m old enough now to make my own decisions, and to move out of the house and do whatever the hell I want.
My parents will never allow it and Zeke might not let it go on if he can’t have me whenever he wants me.
I decide that my parents can’t stop me from being with Zeke.
They’ll try, and I don’t want to be a reason for a rift in the family.
But, every time I think about anything bad, I see Zeke’s face in my mind – the weakness in his eyes, and his longing and desperation to have me.
My heart flutters all over again and the negative washes away, leaving only the good.
We can hide it, yeah. They’ll never have to know about me and Zeke.
My mind races at a thousand miles an hour, back and forth between everything and nothing, and always settling back on Zeke in his most intimate, raw state.
I get to the bus stop, pull out my phone, and start playing on it while waiting for a bus to arrive.
I know I could’ve asked Zeke for a ride back to my place, but I wanted to leave him hanging and desperate for more.
That’s exactly what the websites say about attracting and hooking a man – don’t give everything away at once.
So far, I think I’m doing a pretty damned good job.
I put in my earphones and blast some music, trying to still my mind.
It’s easier to think about the good than the bad, Zeke’s strong hands holding my mouth shut while his fingers danced across my most sensitive bits.
A shiver rolls down my spine at the thought.
While I lose myself to thoughts of Zeke and the music, trapped in my own little bubble, a big, black van stops at the bus stop. The driver rolls down the window and gestures for me to come over. I don’t right away, but pull out an earphone from one ear to hear what he wants.
“Hey, sorry to bother you; I’m looking for Berkley Street. Do you know the way by any chance?” the driver asks. Someone’s sitting next to him with a mean look in his eye.
I swallow hard, shaking my head. “No, sorry, I’m new in town.”
“We both know that’s not true, Riley Hawthorne,” the driver says. Instinct kicks in. I know I’m in danger. My feet take off without a second thought, trying to run. I don’t make it far as the van door slides open, and two men wearing black ski masks jump out, and yank me inside.
“Let go of me,” I shout, trying to break free, and looking at the sea of people standing idly by. In a flash, it’s over, though. I’m in the car, a burlap sack is thrown over my head, and the van’s rolling again.
The men who pulled me in are still holding me by my arms. All I can do is fight. I need to do something. So, I kick wildly, landing at least two solid kicks.
“Oh, fuck,” one of them groans, letting go of my arm.
I try fighting with my arms too, but it’s pointless. Still, I try kicking again, and this time I’m pretty sure it lands with someone’s face, because I hear that distinct crack.
“Jesus,” the guy who groaned before says, “Didn’t think she’d be this feisty. She broke my fucking nose!”
“Settle down,” someone with a deep voice says.
Then both of my arms and legs are pinned, so I cannot move. Fighting isn’t going to work. Maybe begging will.
“No, let me go,” I shout at first, but it doesn’t take long for my adrenaline-fueled aggression to turn into sobbing.
“I’d love to let you go, Doll Face, but you’re the best bargaining chip we have against the Hawthornes. So, how about you settle down back there.”
I only recognize the driver’s voice because of our earlier conversation. As much as I want to speak, and to ask what the hell’s going on and why I’m being used as a bargaining chip, I stay quiet.
My hardest challenge is trying to stop crying. I don’t want to piss anyone off, but I’m scared. Who wouldn’t be, in this situation?
The van drives on, but it doesn’t feel all that long before it comes to a full stop. The engine cuts off, and I hear people shuffling around me. God, I hope I don’t get punished for what I did to that guy. Heh, at least he’ll have to deal with a fucked-up nose.
“Alright, we’re here. Now, there’s no reason to be scared. Just come with us and it’ll all be okay,” the driver’s voice comes from the open sliding door. He helps me out, surprisingly careful, before leading me somewhere.
They don’t take the burlap bag off my head, so I can’t tell where I’m going.
It’s bright, then dark, then light again, before they make me sit.
Whoever’s out there ties my hands with duct tape, pinning me in place.
Now, I wish I hadn’t tried to act so tough.
I should have just taken the ride from The Ox.
“Well, well, well, you actually managed to get her,” I hear another voice.
I guess that it’s not one of the men from the van, by what they’re saying.
There’s shuffling somewhere in the distance, and it sounds as if people are leaving.
My suspicion must be correct when I hear the van’s engine start up again.
“Who are you?”
“Ah, of course; how could I be so rude? My name is Orlando Creed. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” his tone seems less threatening than I expected it to be. But, that’s definitely a false sense of security, it has to be an act.
“Why— what do you want from me?” I hate how weak my voice sounds.
“You don’t know, do you?” I can’t picture what he might look like from his voice alone; old, young, somewhere in between, who knows.
“I hate to be the one to break the bad news, but the Hawthornes owe me a lot of money. They took what’s mine, and I want it back.”
There is the sound of another car pulling up outside. The hopeful side of me wants to believe that whoever it is, they’re here for me, to save me. But, how can it be?
“When this is all over, it might be a good time to have a little chat with your family about what their operations really are,” the voice continues.
Oh, thank God. From what I understand, that means they’re not going to kill me and dump my body somewhere. Still tied up, but at least I’m going to be okay.
Just as I’m about to ask another question, I hear the driver’s voice a little bit further off. “Orlando, we’ve got a problem. It’s the fucking Ox…”
Before he can finish whatever he says, there’s a loud bang that rings through the warehouse and then a thud. My ears start ringing. I just make out Zeke’s voice over the noise.
“I’ll tear your fucking head off,” I hear him say, and despite being able to keep myself together while speaking to Orlando, I now start sobbing.
“Ezekiel, no, wait,” Orlando shouts. “Stop, no…”
“You’ve stepped out of line one too many times, my son. This will be the last,” Ezekiel says.
“What about the girl? She doesn’t know a thing about the Hawthorne Syndicate,” Orlando says.
“You just let the cat out of the bag, didn’t you?” another loud bang, another wave of ringing in my ears, loud and throbbing.
“Riley, it’s going to be okay,” I hear his voice as the ringing subsides. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Zeke wraps his arms around me, pulling me up, and cradling my head. “I’ve got you now. No one’s going to hurt you. I’ll never let anything happen to you. I promise.”