Chasing Thunder (17 page)

She smiled. Like she cared. From what she had seen, the dress code for females in this establishment was the more naked, the better. Yet the men, the ones in power, remained fully clothed. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“I’ve asked that they open a tab for you. My treat, of course. I recommend the champagne. Imported straight from France. It’s the finest in the city.”

She held up her bottled water. “Thanks, but I’ll stick with the water. It’s good to stay properly hydrated.”

He chuckled. “As you wish.” He nudged his toned body in between her and the other patron at the bar. His hard contours laid flush against her leg as if they belonged there. The look in his eyes defied her to challenge him about it. She simply uncapped her water and took a sip. She could feel how his stare lingered on her mouth. “So what is there to do in this joint?” she asked finally.

He straightened and offered her his hand. “To start, we dance.”

It wasn’t a request so much as a demand. M.J. acquiesced wordlessly and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He gripped her body close against his own, and his eyes darkened as they engulfed her. The music pounded around them like a heartbeat. When the music changed to a slower, more seductive song, he skillfully led her through a close dance. Their eyes remained locked as their bodies spiraled around each other like coiled snakes poised to strike.

His hand slid down the curve of her back toward the swell of her ass. Her jaw clenched as he cupped one cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing in between her thighs. He smiled wider. Whether she was interested or disgusted didn’t really matter: the results were the same. He’d wanted to touch her and he had. She hadn’t stopped him, and in his mind she’d lost all right to do so moving forward.

Like every other human with a pussy, she belonged to him. Now they were simply negotiating on price.

“What do you think of my place?” he asked softly in her ear.

She glanced around. “Just as I expected. A gentleman’s club with absolutely no gentlemen.” Her eyes once again pierced his. “And by the way, your invitations suck.”

He chuckled. “Ah, but look how effective they are.” His eyes fell once again on her mouth. “Perhaps we could discuss it more in private.”

She shrugged. “Your dime.”

Again he chuckled, and he squeezed her ass. “I’d pay more than a dime, Miss Bennett. A lot more.”

He stepped away, curling his fingers around her hand as he pulled her from the dance floor toward the spiral staircase. The music still thundered in her ears as she hit the second-floor landing, but despite it she could hear what was going on behind all those closed doors along the long hallway. Those brutal sounds sounded more like what she had expected to find downstairs. There were gang members in matching dark clothes and expensive sneakers standing guard at either end of the hall, just like her rescues had said there would be.

“What are these rooms for?” she asked. He curled his hand around the back of her neck and pressed her forward.

“That, my dear, is on a need-to-know basis. And frankly, you don’t.” They reached the door to his office and he shoved her inside. He locked the door, lowered the lights, and kicked on the sound system with the touch of a button. “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Bennett.”

He assumed his position behind his desk, so she walked to one of the chairs on the other side. She flopped down and kicked her boots up on his expensive ebony desk. He immediately scowled, which made her smile. “You wanted me here and I’m here. So what’s up, buttercup?”

“You’ve been interfering with my business, Miss Bennett. And I don’t take kindly to that.”

“I don’t take kindly to your business,” she told him bluntly.

He leaned across his desk. “Too bad there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it,” he said. “Slick operates as a legitimate business. According to the law, and a litany of lawmakers, I am above reproach.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Even the second floor?”

“The second floor is not part of Slick. It includes private residential quarters for a few close friends. And I am a man who takes care of his friends.”

“Unless they’re female and underage, right?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t make a practice of hanging out with underage girls. But I’m sure you can tell me all about it. How is your young friend from the alley?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Dunno. Got her on a bus and got her the hell out of here the very night I met her. Just like I’ve done for at least two other girls who’ve spent time within these hallowed walls.”

He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s amusing that you think I don’t know.”

“I figured you knew,” she corrected. “Come on. A smart guy like you? You just never cared until now. Which makes me even more curious why you’d care about this last girl at all. She was on the streets for a day, so she couldn’t have been one of yours. Unless it was some initiation gone awry,” she added, scouring his face for any tell. He was stoic, and his smile never changed.

M.J. stood from the chair and sauntered around his office, taking in the details of his décor. “So of course I have to ask myself what makes this girl different. Why is she suddenly so important?”

She stopped in front of his marble chessboard. Dominic watched as she studied the pieces thoughtfully. Finally she reached down and moved a piece before turning toward the window.

It took a minute or two, but finally Dominic slid from his chair and walked over to the chess board. He spotted her move almost immediately, as this particular game had been at a stalemate with his latest opponent. He grinned as he took the piece with ease. “It’s amazing what one day can do,” he commented. “Just one day in this jungle and that pristine young girl will be a tatted-out junkie giving blowjobs at chain restaurants near freeway on-ramps. Call me a romantic, but I thought I could help.”

“Help,” she repeated. “That’s a nice word for it. Do you have an upstairs room set aside for her, too?” His eyes glittered, and he let the comment slide. She glanced down at the chessboard. Within a minute or two, she made another move. Again, he took it with ease.

“But you were right about one thing,” she said. “A lot can happen in a day, an hour . . . or even a minute.” She quickly moved the knight into position. “It can even dethrone a king.” Her eyes met his. “Checkmate.”

There was a flash of irritation in his eyes and the barest hint of a scowl as he realized what she had done. She had set a trap that he had overlooked, simply because her original move had been so easily conquered. He scanned the pieces on the board to figure out how she had unlocked a previously unwinnable game so quickly. He crossed his arms and stared at her, trying to figure her out. Was this another game? Another trap?

If so, he had to sniff out her vulnerabilities. Where were her weaknesses? What mattered to M.J. Bennett?

She made her way to the door, and he crossed the two feet between them. “Impressive,” he said softly. “But no matter how clever you think you are, if you are hiding this girl here in Los Angeles, I will find her.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “We have unfinished business, and I am a stickler for loose ends. That means no matter where you send her, I can find her.”

Her eyes gave nothing away as she stared back at him. Finally he bent forward. “The same way I’ll always be able to find you.” He sniffed the air around her. “I’ve got your scent now, Miss Bennett. Believe me when I tell you that you don’t want me on this hunt. I won’t stop until I take it all.” His hand slid down the side of her face to grab her throat. The tighter his grip became, the bigger his smile grew. “Think about that the next time you put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She broke the hold easily, almost too easily. He laughed. “You entertain me, Miss Bennett. Such fire,” he murmured, touching the wild red curls that fell over her shoulders. “Now that I’ve met you, I might even consider a trade.”

“Bad move for your business,” she replied.

He stepped closer. “And why’s that?”

Her voice was smooth as silk. “Your clients can’t afford me.”

He trailed a finger along her arm and over her chest, just above the lace trim of her shirt. “And how much are you worth, M.J.?”

“I’m priceless, motherfucker,” she answered, her hand landing on the button on the side panel that controlled the door. It unlocked with an audible click.

He made no move to stop her as she left his office. But he followed her, and stood, arms crossed, at the end of the hallway and watched her depart, ensuring that the mysteries of his private rooms remained undetected by the meddlesome troublemaker. He didn’t go back into to his office until she had disappeared from sight.

When he finally returned to his desk, he called his doorman. “I want to know everything M.J. Bennett does and everywhere she goes. Got it?”

“Already on it, sir,” he promptly replied. “Sent our best guy.”

“Good. Very good.”

“Is there anything else you need, sir?”

Dominic grinned. “Which room is free?”

“Green,” Frederick answered. “For the next hour.”

He smiled. “That should be plenty of time.” He reached into a drawer for his key ring. There was a key to every room and for every closet. They jangled in his hand as he walked down the hallway, getting pumped by the sounds of sex he heard coming from behind all the closed doors.

He opened the door to the Green Room, where a young dishwater-blonde girl lay curled up in a tight little ball on top of the dark green comforter. “Good evening, Tammy,” he said with a sick smile. “Have you been waiting for me?”

Tammy uncoiled her body, which still bore bruises and welts. “Yes, sir,” she said meekly. She was delirious from exhaustion and was fairly sure she had a concussion, maybe even a broken rib or two.

He walked to the closet to get a few toys, choosing ones that had inflicted the most pain on her in the past. He needed to hurt her. He wanted to hear her cry out in pain.

Though he planned to fuck Tammy like the dirty, filthy little whore she was, he knew he’d be thinking of a fiery redhead who would fight each and every thrust, and any restraints, like a wildcat. Breaking M.J. Bennett was going to be a lot of fun. He would take his time until she was nice and ripe, and then he’d exact his revenge for all the things she had done to his empire . . . just like he had done to her grandfather.

He had waited more than a decade for this day, but at long last Molly Joanne Bennett would be his to destroy from the inside out, while her grandfather spun in his grave. Best of all, her father, that bastard Dick Bennett, would be a witness to it all.

He grinned wide. It was so very good to be king.

He pocketed the keys as he approached the bed where his newest prisoner waited. “Good girl,” he crooned, caressing her face. His features hardened as he withdrew the whip. “Now bend over.”

11. CAN’T YOU SEE

“
I’m not getting this,” Baby said, wobbling on the skateboard. She clutched Kid with both hands. “Maybe it’s time we admit I can’t do it.”

“Sure, you can,” he said with a smile. “You can do anything. Try it again.”

He held her hands so she could balance herself. His dark eyes sought hers, giving her nonverbal encouragement. She mirrored his smile. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “But don’t let go!”

“I won’t,” he promised.

She made it down the block, but fell off on her return trip flying solo. She giggled. “I’m gonna make some biker, huh?”

Kid turned the board back over. “I think you’ll make a great biker. You already look the part,” he added, glancing over her dark jeans and black T-shirt, which proudly sported a red, white, and blue slogan: “Live Free, Ride Hard.” It was an old discarded T-shirt she’d found in the bottom of the dresser, so she knew without asking it was one of M.J.’s. Just wearing it made her feel stronger and more badass, like she was capable of facing and defeating any foe.

Her eyes shyly met his. “Thanks.” She looked down at his skateboard with a sigh. “But I think M.J. might have been right to keep me out of Wyndryder.”

Once again Kid felt her pull back from what she really wanted to say. It was as though she wanted to take him into her confidence, but was clearly once bitten, twice shy. He had made it a habit not to pry, despite the fact that M.J. wanted him to mine for clues. He knew he had to earn this girl’s trust first.

He reached down for his skateboard. “There’s only one way to become a biker,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the garage. He put his custom skateboard on the pegs on the wall and grabbed the helmet hanging next to it. He turned to her with a smile.

Within minutes they were aboard his bike and screaming through the quiet Pasadena neighborhood, heading straight for the Ventura Freeway.

She wound her arms around his waist as they headed west. They caught the 405 and turned south before merging onto I-10 West. Finally they exited onto the city streets in Santa Monica.

She could feel the cool marine air the closer they got to the ocean, and she could hardly contain her excitement when it finally came into view. He pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the Santa Monica Pier. She could hardly believe her eyes. She took off her helmet and experienced the Pacific in all her glory for the very first time. “Wow,” was all she could say.