Twisted Pieces (3 page)

“
How
the hell did you get it here?
”

Miller smiled.
“
Prospects. Made one ride up on
it. The other guy rode some used thing we had lying around. They
’
re on the damn bike together
right now, puttering back into Frelen.
”

Jace tried to picture it and for
the first time in a while, he laughed. It felt okay to laugh. Not good, not
great. Just okay.

It was certainly better than
getting jumped or stabbed.

Miller walked to his motorcycle and
climbed on it. He started the beast of a machine and it roared to life. Jace
threw a leg over his motorcycle and smiled. He started the ride and it roared
louder than Miller
’
s did.

Jace took one last long look at the
prison. He had killed people, sure. He had hurt a lot more people, yes. But he
didn
’
t deserve to be in
prison. In his heart and soul, he knew justice was served each time he took out
a piece of shit dealer or rival club member. Maybe not the kind of justice the
courts approved of, but it was the kind of justice that was both feared and
respected by all men.

Miller throttled his motorcycle and
it snapped Jace out of his trance. He looked at Miller and gave a nod.

A minute or so later, Jace had the
freedom of the road and the air on his face.

It may have felt okay to laugh, but
it felt fucking great to be alive.

three.

Jordyn told people that she took
the job because it was her
dream job
. In reality, it was the job that
took her. There had been no way in hell she could have landed a paid position
working for Mr. Strokner. At least, not working
for
him directly. Some
other people had been lucky enough just to snag an internship. To work on the
first or second floor of one of his offices, running coffee around in the
morning, lunch in the afternoon, and then mail carts later on. The really lucky
ones were allowed to stay after hours to help some of the higher ups choose a
tie for a business meeting. Some even had a chance to sleep with the higher
ups, but they all learned that fucking the way to the top of Mr. Strokner
’
s company only mattered if you
were fucking Mr. Strokner.

As Jordyn stood in the bathroom,
her hands were shaking. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was let
down just like Mr. Strokner asked her to do during the interview. He circled
Jordyn and his desk about a dozen times. Passing her by, speaking so highly of
her resume and her education. How impressive her business school grades were
even though she came from a poor family neighborhood. Jordyn explained how the
death of her parents when she was a teenager fueled her to work hard to earn
scholarships so that her grandmother,
sweet Jane
, wouldn't have to worry
about money. She raised Jordyn the best she could and then it was all up to
Jordyn to succeed.

Then something happened.

Mr. Strokner started to talk about
his daughter. Jordyn had heard rumors about Mr. Strokner
’
s daughter. Mostly about how she had been a spoiled
bitch, but also about how she snuck out one night and was shot to death at a
fight club type event. It intrigued Jordyn that some little rich girl would be
involved with bikers.

None of that was brought up during
the interview, of course. Instead, Mr. Strokner made a couple passing comments about
how Jordyn reminded him of his daughter.
Rachel.
That was his daughter
’
s name.

Mr. Strokner then touched Jordyn
’
s hair. Once. Twice. The third
time, he stopped behind her. His fingertips were in her hair.

“
You
should let your hair down. Be comfortable around me. Don
’
t be afraid of me.
”

And when she did, she swore she
felt Mr. Strokner bend over and sniff her hair. It bothered her, but it would
bother her more if she were to go home and tell her grandmother that she hadn
’
t gotten the job.

Jordyn gripped the bathroom sink
and let out a shaky breath.

She knew what she needed to do. It
had been a request from Mr. Strokner. Just like the many others. This one was
all about Jordyn though. In the beginning, when Mr. Strokner joked about
touching or about her touching him, Jordyn laughed and played it off as banter.
But then she was
told
to touch him. She was told to place her hand
against him. So she did. She was then told to rub. So she did. Mr. Strokner
even put his hand to hers and showed her the speed he liked. In fact, it was
the speed he liked so much that he came just a few seconds later.

Jordyn didn
’
t know what happened to Mr. Strokner
’
s pants but she heard they were
given to another intern to take to get cleaned.

That
’
s
when Jordyn knew her job wasn
’
t
going to be normal. And as wrong as it was, and as disappointed in her as her
parents and grandmother would probably be, the job came with a sizeable
paycheck that was desperately needed. And so far, things hadn
’
t gotten too far out of control.
So
…
no harm
…
no foul.

Until now.

Jordyn had received a text from a
number that she knew would never be able to be traced. She knew it was Mr.
Strokner because of the way the text was written. It was obvious and it
bothered the hell out of her.

Glancing at her cell phone, Jordyn
saw she had only two more minutes until she was expected to be in Mr. Strokner
’
s office. She pushed away from
the sink and lifted her skirt. Her hands went up her hooked around the edges of
her panties. She wiggled her hips, sliding them down her legs. All of this she
watched in the mirror as though it were some kind of dream. But this was not
dreamed at all. This was reality. A sad reality. The kind they don
’
t teach.

Jordyn held her panties and stared
at them. She dropped them in the trashcan and, with no panties on like Mr.
Strokner had ordered, Jordyn walked to his office and knocked on the door.

“
Mr.
Strokner?
”
she asked,
poking her head in.

Please be busy. Please send me
home. Please tell me we can do this some other
…

“
Perfect
timing,
”
Mr. Strokner said.
He was leaning against his desk.
“
Come
in, Jordyn. Please. Shut the door. Lock it.
”

Jordyn swallowed hard and did as
told. Before she turned back around, she took a deep breath. She spun around
and her hips swayed back and forth as she strutted toward Mr. Strokner. She
would have felt more comfortable with a thousand eyes on her right now, knowing
she had no panties on under her skirt, than she felt seeing the way Mr.
Strokner looked at her right now.

She was scared now. Really scared.

“
Come
here,
”
Mr. Strokner said.

Jordyn stopped at the chairs in
front of him. She was damn sure going to send signals that this wasn
’
t okay with her.

“
Have
you completed everything?
”
Mr. Strokner asked.

“
Yes.
I delivered those two contracts. I pulled the files for tomorrow
’
s meeting.
”

“
And?
”
Mr. Strokner
’
s laugh was ugly.

“
I
…
yes
…”

“
That
wasn't convincing.
”

“
Yes,
sir,
”
Jordyn said.

“
I
need to see. You understand, right? I don't take lying very well.
”

Jordyn stood motionless.

To see.

There was only one way to see.

Jordyn curled her fingers around
her skirt and lifted it. She stared at Mr. Strokner and watched his eyes widen.
When she was exposed to him, he pushed from his desk. He approached and Jordyn
looked at his hands. She wondered which one - if not both - were going to touch
her.

“
So
soft,
”
Mr. Strokner
whispered.
“
Shaved. Clean.
Fresh.
”
Mr. Strokner looked
into Jordyn
’
s eyes now.
“
I knew you were perfect from the
second I saw you, Jordyn. I just
…
knew
…”

Mr. Strokner smiled and Jordyn knew
he was going to touch her. She broke the stare and noticed something on his
desk. It was a folder with a paperclip on it. The paperclip held a picture to
the folder.

“
What
is that?
”
Jordyn asked.

The move was risky, but it paid
off. Mr. Strokner looked back and then turned.
“
The
folder?
”

“
Yes.
Is that part of tomorrow
’
s
meetings? Should I have
…”

“
Oh,
no,
”
Mr. Strokner said.
“
That
’
s a fun side project of mine. You ever hear of Back
Down Devil?
”

“
Maybe.
”

“
They
’
re good friends of mine,
”
Mr. Strokner said.

He then started to walk around his
desk. Jordyn opened her hands and let her skirt fall. She was at least covered
again. There was still a sliver of dignity to be had here.

Mr. Strokner put his hand to the
folder.
“
One of the guys
was in prison for murder.
”

“
Murder?
Seriously?
”

“
Murder,
”
Mr. Strokner said.
“
This is a folder I have on him.
Just information I like to keep. You know, friends, enemies, business
opportunities. I
’
m an
obsessive kind of man, Jordyn. I
’
ve
lost my wife and my daughter. I have everything in the world, but nothing
inside my heart. It
’
s a
horrible feeling. A horrible way to live. So I keep the memories alive in my
own way.
”

“
May
I see the folder?
”
Jordyn
asked.

“
You
can see,
”
Mr. Strokner
said.
“
But you can
’
t look inside.
”

Mr. Strokner turned the folder.
Jordyn looked at the picture and licked her lips. The guy in the picture was
breathtakingly sexy. Clean cut face with a steel like jaw. A well defined chin
and little defiance in the way his lip looked ready to curl. His eyes were ice
blue and the picture was sexier by the fact that it was the guy
’
s mugshot.

“
Who
is it?
”
Jordyn asked.

“
His
name is Jace. But like I said, this is my side project. Not really part of your
job.
”

Jordyn stared at the picture. She
wouldn
’
t mind meeting Jace
in person. Before Jordyn knew what she was doing, she looked up.

“
I
can help with that part too,
”
Jordyn said.
“
If you
’
d like.
”

“
I
’
m supposed to just trust you?
”

“
You
’
ve trusted me this far. Sir.
”

Jordyn knew her words were perhaps
a little threatening. Then again, Jordyn had no idea how far she could go if
she ever decided to tell anyone about Mr. Strokner and his advances. Chances
were he had friends and lawyers that would sweep it all under the rug. Or maybe
he
’
d get this motorcycle
club to kill her.

Jordyn looked at the picture of
Jace again. She wanted to fear him, but a warmth went through her instead.
Reminding herself that he was just in prison for murder did nothing to calm her
body.

Mr. Strokner turned the folder back
around and nodded.
“
Well, I
must admit, Jordyn. When I first hired you, I thought I
’
d fuck you half a dozen times and then toss you to
the curb with a few thousand dollars and a piece of advice. But I like you. You
really are as smart as you think. You listen. You ask. You push.
”
Mr. Strokner patted the folder.
“
I
’
ll keep your offer in mind. But we must now get
down to business.
”
Mr.
Strokner sat in his chair and adjusted his tie. He touched his legs and smiled.
“
Come here, Jordyn.
”

That
’
s
what Jordyn feared.

She slowly walked around the desk.
Mr. Strokner offered his hand and Jordyn took it. He pulled at her.

“
Come
sit on my lap,
”
Mr.
Strokner said.
“
I want to
feel you against me. I want you to feel how hard I am.
”

Jordyn swallowed.
“
The folder
…
if you want
…”

“
Fuck
the folder,
”
Mr. Strokner
growled. His grip tightened.
“
Are
you going to defy me?
”

“
Of
course not, sir.
”

Jordyn slowly sat down on Mr.
Strokner
’
s lap. She felt
him hard and bulging. He wasn
’
t
very big, but Jordyn knew he wouldn
’
t
care about that. He
’
d get
what he wanted out of this.

Mr. Strokner
’
s right hand came around Jordyn. He pulled her
close, pressing her back tight against his chest. His right hand crept down her
body and tugged at her skirt.

“
Pull
your skirt up,
”
Mr.
Strokner whispered.

His breath was hot and bitter. The
feel of his breath against Jordyn
’
s
ear made her jump. It was out of disgust, but for Mr. Strokner, the movement
felt good. Jordyn felt him almost throbbing, like he was ready to go already.
If there was any good to take from all this, it was that Mr. Strokner couldn
’
t contain himself. He couldn
’
t hold back. So this wouldn't
last long at all.

But this was a different moment
right now.

Mr. Strokner wanted Jordyn
’
s skirt up. So Jordyn complied
and pulled her skirt up, just like before. And yet again, Mr. Strokner groaned
when he looked over her shoulder and down, seeing her bare skin. Jordyn hated
herself for taking care of things down there. But it was her body. She wanted
to be smooth and clean. It was better for touching and enjoying
…
but not for Mr. Strokner to touch
and enjoy.