Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) (6 page)

Melissa

After Meadow fills me in on all the finer details of her and Beast’s sexcapades last night, I sit on the sofa as she walks in with her plate of food filled to the brim. Taking a seat, she bites down on her sausage and looks at Beast. “Okay, what did you want to talk about?” Beast looks toward Hella, who shuffles to the side, watching me carefully. I pick up the remote and switch to a music channel.

Beast clears his throat. “We need to head back to Vegas today. We have other serious shit that we need to handle. It turns out, that explosion was retaliation for some biker’s feathers Blake ruffled up a few years ago for Phoebe.” My ears zone out as I watch Miley Cyrus dance around in a basketball dress. Meadow waves her hands around and mumbles out in agreement before Beast corrects her. “Yeah, no, that’s not what I mean. We’re going to need you
both
to come with us.”

That grabs my attention. I look at Beast to see if he was joking, only to find him dead serious and watching me closely. I begin shaking my head. “Wait. Both? What? No, I can’t!” I yell, bouncing up from the sofa in mortification. “Not only because I have a life, and a business to run, but I fucking hate you!” I point at Hella.

His shoulders square before a cocky smirk comes on his face. “Yeah?” he quips, standing from his spot and pressing his chest up against mine, causing me to inch backward. His jaw flexes in frustration. “Well, guess what,
Princess
?” His head bends to my ear. “I hate you, too,” he growls, his warm breath falling over me.

Anger erupts deep inside me and my hands fly up, pushing his body, only for it to not move. I turn in my step, run towards the kitchen, and snatch my handbag before making a dash for the door. Fuck that, and fuck him. 

Bolting down the stairs toward the lobby, I realize people are looking at me and remember I have the damn towel-turban still on my head. I roll my eyes and rip it off, dumping the towel in a passing trashcan. I walk all the way back to my apartment, which is only a few blocks away. Entering, I throw my handbag onto the kitchen table and walk to my bedroom. My hand is on the doorknob when my phone begins blaring from the kitchen. I ignore it, pushing through into my bedroom and opening my curtains to let the afternoon sun through. Nate Dogg’s “Your wife” begins playing from my phone again—yes that’s my ringtone, Nate Dogg was one of the greats—and I roll my eyes, storming back out of my room and towards the kitchen.

“Yes?” I answer, clutching my phone in my hand.

“Melissa, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, Meads. I just don’t want to be around him anymore.” I sigh in defeat, walking towards the refrigerator and taking out the orange juice.

“Why?” she asks softly, and my guard drops. This is Meadow. I don’t want to do anything to piss her off; she doesn’t deserve it.

“Why? Do I have to tell you?”

She snorts. “No, I guess you don’t, but this is deeper than you and him. We need to do this, Melissa. You could be in danger too, until we know what set this off. Hell, you could be more in danger because of your relationship with Phoebe. And if Lisha could see what Hella has going on for you, someone more dangerous could, too. You need to come.”

My shoulders drop. “Okay,” I whisper, surrendering. The truth is, I’ve been around this world longer than most people, so I know what happens when shit goes down. I don’t want to be a liability as well. I will, however, need a solid plan to stay the hell away from Hella. “Come and pick me up.”

Hella

Pulling up to the clubhouse, I rest easy knowing that Melissa is in the car with Meadow. Even though hate somewhat overpowers any lust I have for her, my cock hardens at the thought of my hand gripped around her throat as I thrust into her at a brutal pace that will have her screaming until her throat runs dry and her legs stop moving. Leading the car down the bumpy gravel road, I pull onto the smooth driveway that runs right up to The Devil’s Own clubhouse and reverse into my spot. Taking off my helmet, I watch carefully as Melissa and Meadow get out of Meadow’s car while Beast approaches them. Melissa stretches her arms above her head, her top rising up to show her stomach and displaying her hip bones where a pair of doves are tattooed. She has to have the hottest body I’ve ever laid eyes on—a tight little waist that leads down to her hips, which I want to grab onto, and an ass that I could tap for days. Licking my lips, I tilt my head, my eyes running up and down her form. Her arms drop down instantly, her hands pulling her top down to cover her stomach. I chuckle to myself before walking towards them. A few brothers start coming out of the barn house and I pull out my phone, tapping numbers into my phone to call Jada when Meadow’s voice comes through in an angry whisper. “Melissa, pull your shorts down.”

“Hey, I said I’d come, not that I would behave.”

My eyebrows draw together while I hit send on a text message.

“Jesus… I’m going to apologize now for her behavior,” says Meadow.

I step up behind them. “Apologize for what?” I ask, shoving my phone back into my pocket and looking between Beast and Meadow. My eyes shift to Melissa’s ass that’s lifted into the air while her head is dived into the passenger side of the car. “What the hell are you doing, Melissa?”

She straightens out, flinging her handbag over her shoulder. “Hella, leave me alone. Me and you do
not
know each other while I’m here.”

“You sure about that?” I challenge her, my eyes narrowing and my jaw clenched.

“Round 10… Fight,” Meadow mimics from beside me.

Beast laughs. “Come on, I’ll show you girls around. Hella! I’ll meet you back at the bar.”

My eyes stay glued on Melissa’s, her eyes glaring into mine and matching my fury. Strands of her blonde hair whoosh with the wind, all the while our stare-down remains, my cock twitches in my jeans, and slowly but surely the corner of my mouth tips up and her cheeks flush bright red. I scoff under my breath before leaving them and walking toward the clubhouse. She’s got fire, that’s a given, and now that I know
who
she is, I know where she got that fire from.

Walking into the clubhouse, my phone dings in my pocket and I fish it out. A picture opens up on the MMS someone has sent me and I smirk. Layla’s little body is kneeling on her bed, her long, thick brunette hair hanging around her petite, curvy body with one hand clutched on her inner thigh. Walking into the clubhouse, I readjust myself briefly, placing my phone back into my pocket. I’ll reply to Layla—or not—when I’m needing an itch scratched. Layla is one of the only girls I’ve come across that seems to… give me all the shit I need. Pulling out a stool, I nod my head at Old Fella as he slides my beer toward me. I pick it up and walk to where Frost is sitting with Ripper. I take a drink and drop down onto the chair, glaring at both of them. “What?” The question in their eyes is obvious. “Spit it out, fuckers.”

Ripper smiles a psychotic smile. “Oh, nothing. Just… who’s the girl with Meadow?”

Grunting, I shrug my shoulders. “No one important.”

Nyx smiles a Cheshire grin. “She’s fucking hot though, right?” He swings back on his chair, his head moving side to side, searching for her. My foot lunges forward, pushing on the legs of his chair and tipping him backwards. His hands fly out to the table quickly, stopping his fall. “What the fuck?” He glares at me.

My eyebrows raise in challenge. “What? Got a problem?”

His face drops briefly before he picks up his drink and downs it. Nyx is fairly new, patched in last year so he’ll do good to remember his place—which is well below me. Drowning Pools
’ “Bodies”
starts pumping through the sound system just as Melissa walks through the doors looking like a lost pet. I smirk, pushing off my chair and walking towards her. She pauses, her eyes averting away from the bar and towards me.

“What do you want,
Brax
?” She drags my name out bitterly. Beast has obviously told her my birth name. Fucker.

“Oh,” I touch my chest in mock hurt. “Say it like you mean it,” I tease.

She scoffs, folding her arms in front of herself. “We all know that I have a personal favorite for you…” She smirks.

I shake my head, inching closer to her before whispering into her ear, “You’re going to have to try harder than that, babe. I love the word ‘cunt’ coming out of that mouth.”

She steps back, her hand pushing against my chest. “Oh, trust me, I have a lot more.”

I scoff. “I know how girls like you tick,
Melissa
…” Her eyebrows quirk up. “You act like you can keep up in the fast lane, but you can’t. Do you wanna know how I know how girls like you work, baby?” I whisper, my lips skimming across her earlobe. “Because I took one apart just to see how she worked.” She throws her head back, her eyes narrowing slightly, but when the red blush spreads out over her cheeks, I laugh.

She rolls her eyes. “Go away. You don’t know anything about me.” She walks toward the bar. I looked over to the table where the boys are, each of their eyes following her. I roll my tongue in my mouth and let out a whistle. All their heads whip to me. My eyebrows shoot up, the corner of my lip quirking. Nyx’s eyes narrow on me and I bring my leg forward, crossing my arms challengingly. He pulls in his bottom lip and nods, his eyes dropping in acceptance. I snicker, turning back toward the door and heading out to my bike.

Memories of when I was first recruited assault my mind as I ride out.

Fifteen Years Old

“Why me?” I asked as Kurr, the commander, paced in front of me. “Why the fuck would you pick me out of all the other millions of homeless kids on the street?” The level of my voice was near a roar, the frustration of what the fuck was going on weighing in on me.

Kurr paused, his hands behind his back and his commander cap on low. The tobacco he chewed in his mouth gritted through my ears and his biceps tensed with each movement. He walked up to me, his eyes empty, like hard stones you’d find at the bottom of a lake. Who the fuck was this man? “October 2nd. That date mean anything to you, Hella?”

I paused, my head tilting. “Yeah, my first kill. What the fuck’s this got to do with that?”

He smirked, standing straight and pulling a chair to sit opposite me. “It wasn’t just a kill. It was the art in which you performed that kill.” He tilted his head, his eyes running over my body. “It takes a certain amount of disconnect from human emotions to deliver a kill like that.”

“How’d you know about it? No one knew.”

He laughed, propping his leg on his knee. “I know everything about you, Hella. What was the poor girl’s name?” He stopped, raising his finger to his temple.

“Genna Garcia,” I gritted out. Fuck, never thought I’d have to relive these memories. They excite me the same…

Three months earlier

“Genna, you owe me money. You snorted the shit, now pay up.” Her eyes glanced around the rundown apartment. The aged mustard wallpaper was peeling, revealing the plaster underneath it. The sound from the TV was deafening and the complex reeked.

“I…I’m sorry, Hella, I’ll get it to you, I—” I pushed her back into the apartment, slamming the door shut with my foot. She stepped backwards slowly, her hands flying out to the back of her in search of something she could lean on. “Hella, please, I’m try—” My hand flew up to her throat. It almost covering her entire neck.

“I’ve given you more than enough time, Genna.” Her panicked eyes searched mine, her skin turning a deep purple and her hands flying up to my grip. I let her go, pushing her body across the kitchen floor.

“Please, Hella.” She shook her head, crawling backwards across the kitchen floor. I walked up beside her, elbowing her in the face and knocking her out cold. I swung her body over my shoulder and carried her to the bathroom. Dropping her body into the bathtub, I pulled out my leather gloves from my back pocket and walked back to the kitchen. This was the third time Genna had decided to fuck me around with her payment. I came into this with thoughts of making an example of her behavior, but the surge of adrenalin rushing through me proved that maybe there was a bit more to it than that. I could end her and get it over with, only where’s the fun in that? I pulled open the kitchen drawers, pulling out the variety of different-sized knives that were lodged inside. After taking out a few, I searched the rest of the kitchen, finding a pair of sewing scissors, a blowtorch, and lighter fluid. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some meth, flicking the bag with my finger before snatching her pipe and walking back to the bathroom. I closed the bath curtain and set all the tools I had gathered from the kitchen onto the bathroom sink. Moaning began to stir from the other side of the curtain and I chuckled. “You awake, babe?”