SIX (5 page)

A woman wearing only a bra and panties stood in the door, her eyes wide with fear.

“No one is here,” she said before I even had a chance to ask.

Palming her face, I pushed her backwards toward the nearest closet and shoved her inside.

“Don’t fucking come out,” I warned before shutting the door.

I wasn’t in to killing or hurting women, but I wasn’t going to make an effort to comfort or help one who was fucking an animal.

“Hammer,” I called out.

A bat swung around the corner and I dodged the aim in time for it to ricochet off a countertop.

“Hammer’s not here, motherfucker.” That little parasite lied to me. I grabbed the bat as he swung it again, pulling his body into mine.

Grabbing him in a headlock, I bit out, “Where the fuck is he?”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Pushing him away from my body, I swung the bat, connecting it with his face.

A stomach curdling crunch rang out, followed by blood spurting from his mouth and decorating the wall.

His body went limp, falling to the floor, and I used the bat to ensure he’d never get up again.

Leaving the apartment, I was accosted by two more fuckers shooting weapons at me.

I fired back, taking one to the floor with a stomach wound and leaping toward the other.

I collided with him and fell to the to the floor, grappling to disarm him.

Pain exploded throughout my body, but the adrenaline quickly dulled the ache.

I reigned blow after blow into his face until he gurgled and choked, drowning on his own blood.

Standing from his body, I grabbed my weapon and finished off the one holding his stomach while begging me not to kill him.

Holding my shirt together so Lucky doesn’t eyeball my cleavage any more than he already has, I think about what happened in Six’s room this morning.

I didn’t know he was going to be in there.

It’s the first time I’ve known him to stay at the bar and I went up there because something was beeping.

Most women, or people in general, would have been scared at being pinned to a bed with a knife to their throat while a naked man straddled them, and if it were anyone else doing the straddling perhaps I would have been scared, but something inside me was calm and aware that he didn’t know what he was doing.

Maybe I’m crazy or stupid, but there’s something in his eyes that speaks to me, letting me know he’s dangerous but not to me.

His powerful body stole my breath and two of my shirt buttons.

I’d flushed like a school girl when his penis was just there hanging in my face.
Penis,
I sound like a schoolgirl.

I’ve never seen one that big, not even in the porn that used to be on in the early hours of the morning while I had to finish doing all the paperwork and cleaning in Dad’s bar.

Trying to ignore Lucky’s chitchat the entire way to the motel where my car is parked becomes impossible.

“That’s all I said to her, ‘wash this as well’. I mean, if she’s doing a load for Six, what’s one more shirt? I don’t see the issue.” He shakes his head.

He and Parker have a love/hate thing going on.

“The issue is you told her to, you didn’t ask.”

“It’s the same thing.” He flicks his eyes to me and then back to the road.

“No, Lucky, it really isn’t.”

“Huh,” he muses, silencing for a moment.

“So, those buttons…” curious eyes dart to my chest, “is Parker going to find them in Six’s jeans pocket later or what?”

He waggles his brows at me and flashes his teeth.

My heart thuds in my chest.

“Why would Parker be in his jeans?” My tone is a little harsher than he deserves and the playful expression drops from his face.

“She washes his shit. I was just joking, Mist.”

Guilt bites at my conscience. “I know. I’m sorry,” I say, turning my face away to look out the window.

The motel comes into view and I rummage around in my brain for an answer to give him when he no doubt asks why my car is there.

The truth is, when I walked into Six’s bar over three months ago, I was trying to escape the shitstorm left by my father.

When he passed, his debt ate up everything we owned, including the bar and our home.

I was left homeless with only the things I could carry out of the house before the foreclosure locks went on, so all my belongings are in my car—which decided it, too, has had enough and broke down.

I use the money I make at Numbers to rent a room at the motel, but it’s costing more than I’m making.

It’s the only one around for miles and they use that to their advantage by charging way more than the rooms are worth.

I plan to ask Six if I can maybe rent the property above the bar since he owns it and rarely stays there, but that would mean stringing a coherent sentence together around him.

My nerves always get the better of me whenever he’s within more than twelve feet of touching distance.

I’m not a virgin or a prude, but damn does he make me feel like one.

I lose gravity when he’s around me—my whole being descending into chaos and struggling to find ground.

He has me in some kind of spell.

His aura is intoxicating and I’m bewitched with enchantment.

Everything about him screams to run and hide, but my stupid heart and vagina don’t pay attention to those signs.

Instead, I see the prince inside the beast.

He has demons, but they aren’t who he is—just hosts along for the ride of his messed up life.

I heard from Parker, who liked to talk, he was in prison for murdering people.

But if that’s true, surely he wouldn’t be out this soon.

There must be more to the story and I for one am not going to jump to conclusions about him.

“Just here.” I gesture with a hand wave to the motel.

“It broke down and some guys helped me push it here,” I quickly defend, ashamed my life has come to this.

“Why are your clothes in your car?” My eyes expand too wide and my mouth is agape.

I didn’t think he would question that, but why wouldn’t he? Stupid girl.

“It’s just…I have…”

“Whoa…” he holds his hands up in surrender, “it’s fine, you don’t need to tell me. Just tell me to mind my own business.” He smiles, but I already feel like an asshole and a nauseas pit has formed in my stomach.

“I keep a spare outfit in my car in case I get drinks spilled on me or something at work.” I shrug while silently berating myself for not thinking of that sooner.

“Of course. Good thinking.” He nods, still smiling at me.

I look to him, then my feet, and then the door.

The awkward atmosphere becomes suffocating, so I push open the door and quickly step out of the car.

“I’ll just grab my things and change back at the bar.”

He nods in agreement and I quickly slam the door and jog over to my car. Fiddling around in my pocket for the keys, my eyes dart back to Lucky’s car, but he’s texting or playing Candy Crush.

He’s addicted to that game.

I came into the bar one day to him screaming profanities at his cell because he needed more sweets or something to get to the next level and no one sent him any.

He is such a free spirit.

I would love to only have to worry about getting to the next level of a game.

At this point in my life, I didn’t know how or if I would get to the next level of my life.

I rummage through my bag of clothes, thanking the lord I have a clean top to put on.

“Sorted?” Lucky asks as I open the door and slide back into the car.

“Yeah.” I smile, holding up the shirt and then stuffing it in my purse.

“If you need a ride later, just holler.” He nods over to my stationed car.

He can be so sweet, it’s a shame most days he lacks a filter, especially when talking to Parker.

Pulling away from the motel, I can’t help but look at my little rust bucket in the rear-view mirror.

I have no clue how I’m going to get it fixed.

With the new open mic night I organized, Numbers was swamped with customers and I spent more time behind the bar tonight than any other.

Two hours or so pass and I finally finish the last order and close out everything on the computer.

My eyes are heavy from exhaustion, as they should be considering it’s three a.m. The crappy motel bed has never seemed more inviting than now.

Grabbing my purse from the desk, I shut off the lights to the backroom and make my way toward the back door.

The sound of laughter coming from the bar area draws my attention and I sneak a peek to find Six leaning against the counter, his jeans hanging low on his narrow hips and the hem of his tee tickling the belt buckle keeping everything in place.

I know what’s beneath the fabric of his clothes and it’s almost a sin to keep such glorious things hidden from view. Jude and Lucky are with him, all drinking beer and chatting.

I take a small step from where I’m standing as Jude’s voice raises in enthusiasm. Jude apparently used to work here, undercover to build a case against the last owners family, or so Parker has said.

I’m not sure what’s gossip and what’s truth, but Jude is open about being an officer of the law, which is unusual considering the friendship he and Six appear to have—if I were to believe the whispers circulating about Six’s criminal past.

“So, I’m thrusting away at her from behind,” he tells them, forcing his hips forward into a bar stool while the others watch, amused grins plastered on their faces, “she’s saying,
‘More, more’
, so I power away harder, and she starts screaming,
‘Yeah, hammer me, hammer me’
.”

Six’s laughter bellows from his chest and makes my heart flip.

“So, I’m like,
‘Fuck yeah, she’s wild’
.

I grab her hair and lean over her, telling her,
‘I’m hammering you, baby’
, and she’s all,
‘Yeah, Thor—hammer me, hammer me’
.”

Six spits out the drink he just lifted to his lips, coating his arm in liquor.

“She wasn’t saying,
‘More, more’
—it was fucking Thor. What hope did I have for this going anywhere when the first time we fuck she has to imagine me as someone else?” He shakes his head, unamused.