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Authors: Natasha Thomas

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

Captive (4 page)

BOOK: Captive
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I reach between us putting pressure on her clit immediately sending her flying headlong into climax screaming my name.

“Max! Oh my God. Max!”

 

My thrusts punctuate my words. Words I never use because I’m not someone that likes to talk while fucking, but with her they seem necessary as they’re torn from my throat.

“Cum. For. Me. Milk my cock with your tight pussy, Angel.” Complying, at the crest of her orgasm her pussy clamps down violently on my cock sending me flying with her as I growl out, “Adelyn.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE
Adelyn

 

I Don’t Want To Be Here Anymore – Rise Against

 

              This is the first time in my life I’ve felt truly unwanted. That might sound strange coming from the “junkie dumpster baby”, but nevertheless it’s true. In the past I’ve been through situations so despicable, so vile that it would turn the strongest stomach, but they didn’t leave me feeling half as bad as I do now.

 

This new feeling is so foreign that at first I didn’t know how to process it, how to react. But it dug deep though, burrowed through layers of hurt, pain and anguish to get in there and take hold only growing with each slight, every insult giving me no choice but to face it. The insults, the snarls and judgement would have all been manageable up until the night four weeks ago when Max, in no uncertain terms, laid his feelings on my continued presence bare. I wasn’t shocked by what he said. I was surprised it had taken him so long to say it, but I wasn’t shocked. And my response wasn’t untrue. I wouldn’t want someone tainted, dirty, used near precious babies like Anna and Caleb either.

 

All through dinner I could see Max clenching his jaw, his eyes watching my every movement like I was intending to steal the family jewels. It made me nervous, edgy, I wanted to get up and leave, but Emily had taught me that manners are imperative, so I didn’t. The edginess didn’t abate, it got worse as the night went on and when Lou offered coffee after we finished dessert I politely thanked her and Steel for having me, but told her I had an early start in the morning. This was a lie. I had nothing to do, I never did, but I
had
to get out of there. So much so that I missed Max coming after me as I took off for my car.

 

I don’t know why but I stopped when he called my name and turned to look at him. I shouldn’t have because watching his large powerful frame stride towards me with the grace of a jungle cat, muscles bunching as he walked did things to me. Things that I couldn’t allow. Things that could get me into trouble. Not of the good kind. Of the Adelyn-you’ve-fucked-it-all-up-again kind. This is my fresh start, my chance to show Boss and Diesel I can make it outside of Furnace without the safe guard of Vengeance MC at my back 24/7. Not that I’m not fully aware that Boss had words with Max not long before I arrived telling him to look out for me, because I know he did, he told me so himself.

 

Aware that Max knows at least some of the story, and V a little more didn’t fill me with comfort, it didn’t unburden me of the memory, share the pain, it did none of that. And if Max’s idea of keeping an eye on me included completely ignoring me, pushing me out the door of Skin Fusion as fast as humanly possible when my shift ended, and when he did have to communicate with me doing it with so much animosity that I’d be sure not to approach him again he was doing a stellar job of it. V reacted how I expected, but hearing about what had happened to her in that alley and how it was outed, publically, with all Tank’s brothers in attendance made me want to share with her. Give her some comfort in knowing that she isn’t the only one that’s gone through similar. It wasn’t meant to belittle her experience but I totally subscribe to the theory that it could always be worse. Because more often than not it could.

 

Max confronting me in front of his son and daughter in-laws house had me questioning that theory, because right then I couldn’t imagine things getting much worse. That was up until three weeks later when it did in fact get worse. I proved myself wrong by committing a cardinal sin, fucking the man that openly loathes me with a passion so fierce that if he channelled it into something else he’d be a prodigy at it. How could I fuck a man that looks at me like I’m the sole reason why world peace hasn’t been achieved, has bluntly told me I’m not good enough, unwelcome? Because at least he was honest. He told me how he feels and has made no secret of his dislike, distrust and abhorrence of me. That too might sound strange but to me it signalled that he was real. Max is someone that tells the truth no matter how blunt or hurtful. And I needed to hear it. I needed to remember what I am. That I was interloping on his family and wasn’t fit to do so. He gave me that so when he asked if he could take me home that night almost a week ago from Rough Shod I gave him that. It was all I had to give, and if he wanted that from me I was happy that I could do something for him. It wasn’t payment for setting me up with a job, or agreeing to look out for me, because he was doing a shitty job at that and I am not a whore. I did it because if for one second, one moment in my bed Max looked at me with anything less than disgust I would take it as a gift. It was a test, one that he failed. Spectacularly.

 

Rolling off me afterwards Max didn’t look at me. He didn’t touch me. There were no kind words, sweet caresses, nothing. And he didn’t speak for a long time either. It felt like hours where it was probably only ten minutes, but when he did he proved that I was still a dirty and disposable as ever.

 

Without turning to face me from where he still lay on his back staring at the ceiling he said,

“You gonna be able to forget this happened?”

 

I sucked in a breath and felt the burn of tears sting my eyes, but I moved my head slightly to the right so he couldn’t see them. The last thing I wanted was for him to think worse of me, even though clearly it was too late for that. What had I expected? The man drove me home on his bike and then fucked me not once uttering a nice word to me the entire time, unless you include “Are you sure?” as nice. I should have anticipated his reaction, but for some reason I hadn’t and it burned. Pulling it together I replied,

“Of course. If that’s what you want I can do that Max.”

 

I am so weak when it comes to him, it’s a flaw of mine, one which no matter what I’ve done I can’t get a handle on. I would never let another man treat me like this. It wouldn’t matter whether it was someone I knew, say Boss or Diesel, in fact I would kick the ass of any one of the Vengeance MC brothers if they disrespected me a fraction of the way Max has. Not that this kind of thing would be an issue with any of them, because I wouldn’t sleep with a single one of them if my life depended on it. Why I didn’t jump up demand he leave telling him that he can’t treat me like a piece of shit is beyond me, but I didn’t do that, and I regretted it deeply with his next statement. Because that was what it was, a statement. It brokered no room for discussion making his point perfectly.

 

At some point, probably while I was facing away from him he’d disposed of the condom, pulled his jeans on sans underwear because he didn’t wear any, his t-shirt and buckled his belt. He was in the process of putting his boots on when he spoke and he couldn’t have done it sitting further away from me on his perch at the very end of my bed if he tried.

“I suppose it’ll be easy for you to forget given all the men you have in your bed. Just do me a favor and don’t go spreading this far and wide. I don’t need people fucking talking about where I stick my dick when it was a huge mistake to begin with.” Again his words burrowed deep. The pain they caused stripped away my resolve causing a few stray tears to break free and leak down my face. Max wasn’t done though. “Be good if you could get yourself tested to make sure you haven’t given me anything. Will need the report to put in the file at the shop too. I can’t have you working with needles if you’ve got anything transmittable.”

 

There’s a point where a person can feel their soul shatter. When the only way to protect themselves from agony so severe that it will rip them apart at the seams is to collect the pieces of their shattered soul, the fragments that remain, and hold them captive in a box in the darkest recesses of their heart for fear of losing it completely. So that was what I did. I scraped together what was left of my tormented soul, bundled it in neatly in a box, and chained it, captive, in the part of my heart that I would never let anyone near, never let anyone see.

 

It was all I could do not to burst into great big body wracking sobs at his words. His cruelty crossed a line this time. Not when it came to me, no, I would take whatever he threw at me. But his comments about me transmitting something to a customer were over the line, so far over I couldn’t see it any more. I would never put anyone else at risk if I was infectious, or even thought I was, and for him to suggest I would only solidified his opinion of me.

 

I wanted him gone. I needed him to leave so that I could have my melt down that I knew was coming
alone
. I didn’t bother to get up and dressed. I could see he wouldn’t want that, he wanted to get out of here unhindered, unassisted, as much as I wanted him gone, so I pulled the sheet up to my chin making sure I was covered completely before saying,

“I don’t have anything Max. I promise.”

 

I should’ve known Max wouldn’t accept my word for it, but I’m nothing if I’m not an idiot. You can take Max himself as an example of that.

“Yeah?” He snarls with a raised eyebrow. “You’ll have to humour me then. Get the test done, don’t come back to work until you’ve got the results.” He knew that would be at least a week. And he knew I needed the money working at Skin fusion bought in.

 

Boss might have moved me out of the cute little cottage that he set me up in when I first moved to Blackwater and in to the apartment above Skin Fusion, but as soon as I had saved up enough for first and last, and the deposit I went straight out and found a place of my own. It had been convenient to live above work, but I hated feeling hemmed in. Enclosed spaces freaked me the fuck out and the apartment albeit a studio was too small for me, I couldn’t breathe properly there. Thankfully a two-bed, two-bath cottage became available a week after I started looking, I jumped on it and was moved out of the studio, and in to my new place with in a fortnight. Boss hadn’t been happy, Diesel hadn’t either, but as soon as I explained how I had felt they relented backing of completely.

 

Regardless of its size, my house isn’t cheap and I need every dollar I earn to pay for it, especially since I recently invested in a state of the art alarm system. Max knows this, small town syndrome and all. He came and asked me why, and I told him it was necessary for a woman living alone. It wasn’t true, not even close, but he accepted my explanation and dropped it. But now, with him telling me I’m going to lose a week’s pay, at least, has me panicking slightly. Boss or Diesel would help me out I know that, I won’t ask for their help, but I know they would and I don’t like to rely anyone so that option is out of the question. I have no savings, burning through it to get my friend Amy, the owner of Inkamy, out of a bind last month. I don’t have a credit card because I like to online shop far too much for it to be healthy for a credit card balance. Maybe I can pick up some odd jobs around town, God only knows I’m too old at thirty to strip, but maybe Kitty Kat’s need bar staff or waitresses I muse. I’ll have to check it out in the morning seeing as my day just suddenly became free.

 

Shuffling up the bed into sitting position silently freaking out, I use my eyes to search his face. Looking for a flash of something, anything that would show me that he will reconsider if I asked nicely, but there’s nothing but resolve and apathy. Sighing I shrug my shoulders,

“Okay. Do you have any problem with me picking up work elsewhere in the mean time? Not tattooing, just casual work.”

 

I have to ask because I can only imagine how it would go over if he found out from someone else, it’ll give him even more ammunition to use against me and he already has enough of that. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he studies me,

“Why the fuck would you do that? Have a week off. Fix your hair. Go get a spa treatment or some shit. You don’t need to get another fucking job for a week Adelyn.”

 

He would think that, especially when I look so much like a princess that would do that kind of stuff to begin with. You’re more likely to find me having my finger nails ripped out one-by-one than find me in a day spa having facials and pedicures. It’s a waste of hard earned money of which I don’t have a lot of, and also wouldn’t spend on that sort of thing if I did. I knew the importance of having a nest egg, if it wasn’t for me bailing out Amy I would have a sizeable one, but for the time being I would have to work doubly as hard to build it back up. I needed it, it was my security blanket for just in case I had to leave in a hurry.

 

“Actually I do. I have rent and utilities to pay and at some point in the week I’d like to eat, so yes Max, I do need to get work.” I tell him shaking my head side to side.

 

Max growls at me and stalks to the door. Before he leaves he spits,

“You work for me at Skin Fusion, don’t do anything to embarrass my shop and I won’t give a fuck what you do.”

 

Walking out the door to my bedroom I listen as he makes his was down the hall. I listen as exits through the front door slamming it harder than necessary. I listen as he starts his bike up, the machine growling like the man before it purrs taking off down my gravel driveway. I listen until there is no sound to listen to anymore.

 

Then, and only then, do I let myself cry the tears that have built up over the last ten minutes. They spill down over my cheeks, my neck and onto the sheet still clutched tightly against my chest. That’s how I fall asleep after I’ve sunk down into the safety of the depths of my quilt, with tears streaming down my face, my heart aching, and my soul captive in a box that will never be opened if I have anything to say in it.

BOOK: Captive
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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