Chapter 12 #2
With the next bite, I didn’t show as much hesitance and didn’t chew as long either.
“Who else has the tag?” The masochist in me wanted to know exactly how many fucking killers lived under this roof.
“Ink, Dutch, and Onyx.”
“Who are Ink and Dutch?”
“Ink is the club’s sergeant-at-arms. Crazy son of a bitch. He makes sure laws are upheld, and no one carries a firearm without him knowing about it. Dutch is the enforcer.”
“Enforcer?”
“You’re not playing by the rules, ballerina girl.
” He held up the spoon, and I gagged a little thinking of swallowing more food.
But I was desperate. They said knowledge was power, and I needed to make use of every opportunity I got in order to empower myself.
It was the only way for me to fight back.
So, I ate, my stomach complaining more and more after every mouthful I swallowed.
My body wasn’t used to eating this much.
I cringed as the last of the food slipped down my throat.
There was an amused grin on his face as he watched me struggle. “Good girl. Now, to answer your question. In our case, the enforcer is lead security when it comes to protecting the president. He also helps the sergeant-at-arms to make sure members uphold our laws.”
“And if they don’t?”
He shot me a sly grin while reaching for the beer. “How do you think he ended up with the Blood Brothers tag?”
I shuddered. Made total sense how those two got the killer badge in the club.
“Ever drink beer before?”
“You’re the one claiming to know me, so why don’t you tell me?”
He leaned forward, and I could smell the overripe scent of the beer he held out to me.
I’d only ever tasted beer once while at a party with Red.
It was vile. The thought of drinking it made me feel lightheaded and sick.
But the thought of ending up as nothing more than a number on his hit list had me opening my mouth as he brought the bottle to my lips.
Beer spilled down the side of my face even though Granite poured slowly. When he pulled the bottle away, I was relieved since I was sure I had only been one mouthful away from hurling beer and macaroni in his face.
The wetness of the beer remained on my mouth and chin, and he glanced at my lips before looking me in the eye.
The moment lingered for a while, and with each passing second, his eyes darkened.
There was a hunger, a desire in the depths of his irises—the golden specks masked with greed.
Suddenly, I was hyperaware of how close he was, his warm breath skidding across my wet lips, causing me to shiver.
My body prickled with more anticipation than fear.
“Ask me, Alyx.”
He didn’t back down. In fact, I was sure he was leaning closer, little by little, his earthy scent mixing with the overripe fruit flavor of the beer.
His gaze dropped down to my mouth, and I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes when he touched his thumb against the corner of my lips.
Softly, gently, as if I were glass, he wiped his fingers down my chin, his caress igniting a fire deep within me.
My lips parted, and in that moment, I didn’t want him to stop touching me.
Gone was the fear, replaced by desire, and it felt right in so many wrong ways.
How could I desire his touch while fearing him?
Lightly, his fingers traced along my jaw. “Ask me the one question you’re burning to ask me,” he whispered, and I imagined his low voice was what seduction sounded like. Dark. Tempting. Captivating. And utterly disarming.
His thumb was on my lips again, and I opened my eyes to look straight into his. Deep down, I knew exactly which question he was referring to. It was a question I was too afraid to ask, but while I slowly lost myself in his gaze, something told me his answer might change everything.
My lips parted while his thumb remained. “Why did you take me?”
His finger dipped inside my mouth, and I exhaled sharply, air rushing past my lips in a huff.
“Because you asked me to.” His palm flattened against my jaw, fingers softly caressing my skin, pushing my body toward an edge it had never even been close to. My eyes closed, and I relished the way his skin felt against mine. So many conflicting emotions, but only one dominant one. Desire.
A whimper left me when his lips brushed my chin, his beard gently grazing against my flesh. “Every time you stared at me from your bedroom window, you asked me to take you.” With his hand against my cheek, he forced me to lean my head to the side. “You practically begged me to.”
“That’s a lie.” It was a feeble attempt to fight him. My voice lacked conviction. It lacked strength because my body was slowly succumbing to his touch, only wanting more and more.
“It’s not. You’ve waited for me all this time.
Silently hoping I’d come for you. Well, now I have.
And guess what?” The tip of his tongue dragged up my neck, and I tried to squirm in my seat, lust pooling between my legs.
God, it felt dirty, the way my sex throbbed as he licked across my skin.
It made me wonder what his tongue would feel like against my sensitive folds, licking, sucking, tasting.
With rapid breaths, I whispered, “What?”
His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, gripping my hair in his fist. Pulling my head back, he moved up, his lips brushing against my ear. “I’m not giving you back. Not until I’ve had my fill of you.”
Abruptly, he let go of me, and I gasped, taking a deep breath. My body was still on fire, my skin sizzling with desire. Not even the threat in his last words could smother it.
Granite straightened, looking down at me with hooded eyes. “I bet you regret making a bargain with the devil now, don’t you?”
There were too many feelings, too many emotions for me to form a coherent thought. All I was capable of at that moment was staring back at him. I had lost control of my body. I had lost control of my thoughts. I had lost control of everything…all because of the way his touch corrupted me.
“If I come back and find you’ve made yourself sick, I will force-feed you again. And this time there will be no deal.”
I was still dazed, caught up in the moment, when I heard his heavy footsteps and the door.
I sat there tied to a motherfucking chair, and I couldn’t wrap my head around what Granite had just said.
Was I not part of a blackmailing scheme? Was I not here for ransom purposes? Did all of this have nothing to do with my father, but everything to do with…me?
Not caring that my mind was still spinning, my body all riled up, fatigue started to set in.
I was exhausted. The pain meds Neon gave me were wearing off, and my stomach felt like I had swallowed lead.
As my body gradually stopped humming, my sex no longer throbbing, I could feel the aftereffect of eating too much.
The gluten was poisoning me from the inside, and the carbs and calorie overload from the beer were making me feel horrid.
The mac and cheese alone was probably five hundred calories, not to mention the hundred and fifty calories with the beer.
That was more calories than I had consumed during the last three days.
After my body finally settled, the fire in my belly extinguished with his absence, my first reaction was to make myself sick, to purge myself of the poison in my stomach.
But Granite’s threat rang like a warning bell in my head, which meant my body had to endure it.
For anyone else, this would have seemed futile, meaningless, and practically not that bad.
But for fifteen years, my mom controlled what I ate, how I ate, and when I ate.
It only took a year or two for my body to adjust, to get accustomed to what I put in it.
It had grown used to a calorie-controlled, no-fat diet.
It wasn’t something I could control anymore. My body controlled it.
My mother controlled it.
I closed my eyes, willing my body to keep the food down.
I didn’t have the strength to throw up again.
And, frankly, my ribs and back still hurt from the last vomiting spell I had—which was still on the floor, covered with a sheet.
God, I hoped someone would clean that shit up, or it would start smelling like a dumping site in here soon.
I sighed and let my head hang back, staring up at the ceiling.
What was happening to me? Why would I still want Granite after seeing what a wretched human being he really was?
A kidnapper. A killer. Maybe he wasn’t the psycho in this equation.
Maybe I was. It was the only explanation as to why I let myself lose control under his touch.
If I was completely honest with myself, I probably wouldn’t have stopped him if he tried to go further.
In fact, if my legs weren’t tied to the goddamn chair, I would have tried to push my thighs together to get rid of the ache and the need to be touched there.
A sudden cramp spread across my abdomen, and I groaned.
It was too much food. Too much beer. My body was protesting.
Why couldn’t it have acted up when Granite had his hands on me?
At least then I’d be able to show him he was wrong.
That me staring at him from my window wasn’t a silent plea to be taken.
But then again…maybe it was.