KENZO
“You could have at least caught her.” I laugh as I stare down at the beautiful girl out cold on the floor. Diesel punched her hard, her eye is already swelling, and I’m betting her head will hurt tomorrow.
Better than what Garrett would have done to her for that cheap shot, but when I actually look over at the guy, he’s icing his cock and has a strangely impressed expression on his face as her bat leans next to him.
Who is this girl?
Definitely not the meek little good girl I was expecting, that’s for sure. Hell, she didn’t even seem scared when we told her everything. She tried to fight. I like that. It might keep her alive for a while. At least long enough for me to get my dick wet and see if she fights like that in bed.
I bet she does.
She’s a wild one.
“Kenzo, go with Diesel and pack her a bag…more than just panties.” Ryder sighs, staring down at the girl. “Garrett, pick her up, will you?”
The big guy grumbles, pulling the ice from his dick, but he lifts her up and cradles her to his chest without looking down at her, his teeth clenched. Nodding, I follow Diesel upstairs. “Shit, I’ll get the key,” I tell him when he tries the handle and it doesn’t budge.
I’m turning to do just that when I hear a smash. Glancing over my shoulder, I see he’s kicked down the door. He grins back at me. “No need, it’s open now.”
Shaking my head, I grab my dice, a habit, as we step inside. My eyebrows rise, it’s a fucking mess. Clothes and beer bottles are everywhere. Ryder would have a shit fit if he saw this place. Diesel, uncaring, heads straight for the half open wooden drawers on the back wall under a window. He starts grabbing handfuls of panties, I even catch him sniffing some.
I snatch a bag from the built-in wardrobe next to the bathroom door and fill it with her toiletries and makeup. I take some clothes that are hanging up and other articles from the room, as well as some bits and bobs she might need. We can always buy her whatever else she wants, but her having her own stuff might calm her somewhat.
I almost laugh out loud as I remember how she took down Garrett. It’s not often someone gets a drop on him. Hardly ever, in fact. This is going to be fun. A noise drags my head up to see Diesel bouncing on her bed, his arms under his head.
“You going to help or jack off into her knickers?” I ask seriously, noticing a stringy pink piece clutched in his hand. “Remember what we said about touching yourself in public?”
He frowns, tucks the panties into his pocket, and fluffs up the pillow under his head but freezes. With a slow move, he reaches under the pillow and pulls out a gun—a small revolver. Well, well, well, where did our little one get that?
Diesel’s face splits with a grin. “I think I’m in love. Do you think she would shoot me if I ask?”
“Probably, want to bet on it?”
“Hell no, you cheat!” he snaps, making me laugh. I do, sometimes. Other times, I just read people, it’s a talent of mine I’ve honed. It makes me a bad person to bet against, and also the best bookie in the city.
Peering above the mini fridge, I spot a photograph, the only one I’ve seen up here. It’s of a younger Roxy without as many tattoos, and her hair is longer and blonde. She has a nose stud, but it’s definitely her, and next to her is a large man. Huge actually, with a bald head and greying beard, scars at the corner of his chin, and a nose that’s been broken. Who is he?
It’s not her dad, but it has to be someone important to her. So I take it, fold it away, and pocket it just in case we need to find him and use him as leverage. Looking around, I nod at Diesel. “I think that’s everything. Let’s go before she wakes up and starts punching people again.”
“Do you think she would?” he questions wistfully.
“Crazy fucker,” I mutter, as I hoist her tattered bag higher and head downstairs.
Garett is still holding her, looking like he would rather be anywhere else, and Ryder is wandering around the bar. No doubt learning everything he can. I know how to read people, but Ryder? He’s made it a fucking game, a sport, to find people’s weaknesses and exploit them, destroy them with what he learned.
Little miss Roxy will be no different.
“All packed, she doesn’t have much.” I shrug.
Ryder nods. “I don’t think Roxy cares about things other than this bar.”
Garrett growls, “Fucking great, can we leave now?”
“Scared she’s going to take a shot at your junk again?” I taunt, and he narrows his gaze at me.
“I’ll carry her,” Diesel offers. I step in his path as Garrett turns her away from him.
“That’s okay, man, he’s got it,” I say to the man who frowns and peeks around me to try and see her. Fuck, I look over at Ryder and he nods, he’s noticed it too. The last person Diesel became obsessed with ended up being burned to death. We want her to suffer, but not that much…not yet.
That means we need to stay between him and her, at least for now.
“Come on, we’ll head back.” I clap him on the shoulder, dragging him away as Ryder steps between him and Garrett to further block his view.
Diesel moans but perks up when I tell him he can drive.
“We’ll meet you back here, get the guest room ready so she can stay there for now,” Ryder calls, and I nod.
Guest room? Like she’ll be staying in there for the long haul. It seems Roxy is going to live with us. And from just the moment I spent with her, I’m betting she’s going to try her best to kill us for that.
I can’t wait.
It’s been awhile since we last did something fun, this one just happens to come in a delectable package which I plan to open. Yes, I’ll have Roxy before we kill her. I’ll make her beg for it, crave it until she caves…then I’ll finally fuck her.
She’s now lost the biggest bet of all—her freedom and her life.
ROXY
My head is killing me, almost like I’ve had one too many drinks. My face is aching, and my whole body is stiff from being in one position too long. Groaning, I keep my eyes shut to try and let the pain fade away as I rack my brain for what happened. But it’s all a blur, and the more I try, the more the hammers dig into my brain.
Feeling around with my hand for my gun, I freeze. This isn’t my usual crappy bedding…this is fucking silk. Who the hell has silk bedding?
No one I know, that’s for sure.
That’s when it all comes rushing back. The goons. The Vipers. The punch…
Snapping my eyes open, I stare up at the white ceiling, and right above me is a goddamn crystal chandelier. My heart slams in my chest as I shuffle up to the headboard, leaning against it as I prod my aching face, that bastard. I don’t think anything is broken though. Breathing heavily, I panic as I look around at my surroundings.
They stole me.
Took me from my bar and left me in what looks like a fucking hotel room.
It’s so…clean. Way too clean. All white walls and a deep grey carpeted floor. On the wall opposite the huge, king-sized bed I’m in is a flat screen TV bigger than my bathroom. To the right, the wall gives way to floor-to-ceiling windows which, when I slide from the bed and stumble over to them, show me the city.
It’s spread out beneath me like a goddamn poster. We’re so high up and right smack bam in the middle of it. Turning away, I spot two doors on either side of the TV. I peek my head in one to see a built-in wardrobe. And by that, I mean a room with shelves upon shelves, mirrors with lights between them, and a sofa in the middle. Shutting the door with a disgusted sneer of my lips, I try the other one.
It’s a bathroom. The left wall is taken up by an all glass shower cubicle with four shower heads aimed down, and a grey tiled seat in the back corner. To the back is a huge tub, big enough to hold at least six people. To the right are two sinks with a framed mirror above it. The toilet is tucked away next to me. It looks like someone spared no expense, the fucking rich bastards.
Heading back into the room, I scan the space looking for anything I can use as a weapon. Next to the bed are two antique, grey bedside tables. With lamps on both. Perfect. I race across the room on bare feet, since some bastard took my boots. Ripping the lamp from the wall, I hold it like a bat as I head to the white door to the left which clearly leads out of the room.
Trying the handle, I find it locked, of fucking course. I drop the lamp to my side and glare around at the room. These fuckers, they think they can own me? That I’m someone they can buy?