Page 28 of Damaged & Deadly
I shrug. “I didn’t see a way out. Never had a reason to try. I’m not even sure if I wanted to get out.” I mull it over for a second before stating, “I guess I was waiting for you.”
Chapter 11
Enzo leans across me to look out my window. His brow hitches, an unimpressed look on his face. “Really?” he sneers. “They couldn’t protect this place from a summer storm, yet they think they can withstand the assault Giovanni will rain down when he discovers what they’re doing?”
Turning, I try to see the clubhouse through his eyes. The tall iron fence, the hoops of barbed wire along the top. It’s all unassuming, but the barbed wire is electrified, and every inch of the fencing is monitored. What Enzo can’t see is the armed men hiding out of sight, the boobie traps concealed along the perimeter.
Squashing my smile, I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s not even midday yet and we’ve already been through the wars. It’s safe to say neither he nor Dante was happy about me staying here tonight. Between Dante mumbling under his breath about locking me in his room and Enzo debating about straight-up killing Cain and Oliver, my energy levels are already waning.
When I reiterated for what must have been the millionth time that neither of them had the right to dictate who I spent my time with and threatening not to come back if they didn’t get their caveman attitudes under control, the two of them reluctantly relented, with Dante spitting out that he needed to work anyway before stomping off. That left Enzo to drive me over to the clubhouse, something he wasn’t too happy about. It took him nearly an hour just to find the car keys, and I swear he had them on him the whole time.
I know none of this has been easy on them, but it hasn’t been easy on my Rejects either. I’ve spent the last month with Enzo and Dante, and now that they know the truth, I need some time with my gangsters. Besides, I need a distraction to stop me from storming into Giovanni’s skyscraper and rescuing my brother—a move that would end in certain death, and not just for me.
We argued about it this morning. I can’t stand the thought of him being alone in there. What are they doing to him? The map of trauma Dante showed me on his body only has me more concerned for my brother's well-being. Are they going to do the same to him? I have to close my eyes against the nausea climbing my throat at the image of my baby brother being tased with a cattle prod.
I can’t think like that. I have to focus on what I can control, on what I can do to help, and that involves getting everyone on the same page so the five of us can devise a plan.
“I wouldn’t underestimate them if I was you.”
He huffs but doesn’t argue. Grabbing my overnight bag, I move to get out of the car. “Where do you think you’re going?” Enzo questions in a husky voice as he grabs the front of my top and drags my lips to his.
When we woke up this morning, he kissed me on the temple like it was any other morning before going for his shower. I guess he said everything he needed to last night, and it appears he’s done holding back. It was clear he was reaching his breaking point when we sparred the other day. He was only holding back for Dante’s sake, although despite his pissy behavior previously when Enzo’s touch or gaze would linger on me, Dante has actually taken all of this surprisingly well.
“You didn’t think I’d let you out of this car without ensuring they know you’re mine, did you?” he growls when he finally pulls back from our kiss, only after ensuring my lips are red and swollen from his abrasive touch.
Not sure how to respond to that, I grab my bag and climb out before he decides a kiss isn’t enough. God knows he could send me in there, freshly fucked and covered in bite marks, if he indeed wanted to send a clear message. As hot as that actually sounds, I’m in no mood to deal with the pissing party that would ensue. We have much bigger problems to deal with.
Standing on the sidewalk, I make no move to step onto Reject property until Enzo revs the engine and puts the car in gear. He rolls his eyes before taking off down the street and I watch the out-of-place sedan disappear before crossing the threshold. I know now that there are both cameras—with someone watching on the other end 24/7 who will have already alerted Cain to my arrival—and motion detectors that will have notified them that I’ve stepped onto their property. Whoever is currently watching the cameras will have silenced the alarm, so the rest of the clubhouse doesn’t jump to attention thinking I’m a threat.
When silence reigns, I continue up the path to the door and step into the clubhouse. The place is a hive of activity, men chatting, eating, working. Most of the renovations are complete now, and the interior is a far cry from the ramshackle motel I misjudged on my first visit. The walls are freshly painted, with modern leather loungers placed strategically around the room. Booths and small tables provide a dining area on one side near the doors into the kitchen, with a dance floor and pool table on the other side of the room, and a fully stocked bar in the middle, acting as a room divider. It’s modern yet homey, especially with the friendly smiles lobbed my way as I walk through the men toward the back hallway that leads to Cain’s office.
When I push the office door open, I’m surprised to find the room empty. There’s a large map spread across the desk with what looks like a red marker drawn across it, and I walk over to get a better look.
Analyzing the red border that signifies Antonelli territory and the square grids, some of which are crossed off with Xs in them. It takes me a second to put the pieces together and figure out what they’re doing. Still, when I do, the love for these men threatens to consume me. They’re searching for Luc. They’ve divided Antonelli territory into grids and are strategically scouring each one before moving on. It’s such a risky move, one that could easily have them on Giovanni’s radar—more so than they already are—yet they’re doing it… for me. For Luc.
With emotion clogging my throat, I go in search of the rough-around-the-edges men with hearts of gold who have wormed their way into my life. Thank god my stubbornness never put Oliver off, and Cain was so insistent on hounding me about the Reaper. I would never have dropped my guard otherwise or had the opportunity to actually get to know these men and realize how empty my life was before. I thought all I needed was Luc. That all we needed was each other, but now that my eyes have been opened, I can clearly see how much I’ve missed out on. How muchhehas been missing out on. I’ve done the best job I could when it came to him, but Luc needs male company. He needs friends his own age, and the Rejects have given him all of that. Plus, they’ve reaffirmed my faith in humanity. I hadn’t realized just how far into the darkness I’d fallen before I met them. How detached I had become from the world around me. They’ve not only included my brother and stolen my heart, but they’ve opened my eyes and helped me see the positives in life. I’ve stopped simply surviving, and I’m learning to live. To enjoy life. I’m starting to see the change that can occur if we work together to better ourselves. The family that can be built on similar values, common goals, respect, loyalty, and love.
I push open the door to Cain’s bedroom, popping my head in to see if he’s there. Finding it empty, I go to close the door again when I hear the sound of the shower running. Stepping into the room, I cross over to the ajar ensuite door and slip into the bathroom. Steam obscures my vision, but my eyes zero in on the drool-worthy specimen in the shower cubicle. Even through the condensation on the glass door, I can still make out the broad muscles of his shoulders, bulging biceps, and muscular thighs. My memory of him can fill in the gaps that I can’t see—his broad chest, the hulking muscle of his pectorals that leads to the toned definition of his abs, the trail of dark hair that leads…
“You just gonna stand there all day, Red?” The seductive husk of his voice sends goosebumps racing along my skin as I realize my eyes have followed my mind south. My gaze snaps to his, finding him watching me with lust-filled, eager eyes. “Get over here.”
Without a second thought, I strip and move to join him in the shower. He yanks me into the cubicle as soon as the door opens, his grip scorching and firm as he slams his lips on mine. His kiss is rough and aggressive, angry and possessive. I love kissing Cain. I love the rough way he handles me. He knows I can take it, that I can handle him. Everything about him is fast, complex, and unrelenting.
“On your knees, stripper,” he growls, using his firm hold to push me to the floor. “I want to see you choking on my dick.”
His other hand is wrapped around his length as he strokes himself with fast, hard tugs. I watch, mesmerized, as he works himself over with precum dripping from his opening. With his cock right in front of my face, the flick of my tongue has the salty sweetness of his cum dancing across my tastebuds.
“Open up,” he growls. I dart my gaze up to his, finding him watching me with a predatory look. Carnal desire and possession burn in his eyes, only intensifying when I follow his orders.
Parting my lips, he feeds me his cock. I swirl my tongue around him, eliciting a groan as I work to relax my jaw, taking as much of him as I can. Cain is huge, and my muscles ache with the stretch as his piercing scrapes along the back of my throat, threatening to cut off my air supply.
My hand moves to replace his as he threads his fingers through my hair, his eyes transfixed on my lips. He runs his fingers over my lips where they are stretched around him. “These are my lips. My mouth.” Each declaration is followed with a shallow thrust, and he completely loses control when I hum my agreement. Pistoning into me, he holds my head still with a tight grip while he fucks my face, taking and taking as he tries to satiate the hungry beast inside him.
Arousal makes my body heat and my thighs clench, desperate for some friction. Tears spill over onto my cheeks as I struggle to breathe, only intensifying my need, and I slip my hand between my thighs.
“No,” Cain growls, slapping it away. “Naughty strippers don’t get to come.”
I whimper around him, making him hiss. This is my punishment for Dante and Enzo. His way of regaining control, reminding me I belong to him, and reassuring himself that I’m his.