Charged (23 page)

No monsters will be bore by me. 

Death will take care of that. 

Jack advances to where I stand, resting the gun with his pants on the floor. For now, that threat is gone.

As Jack’s hand dips to my pussy, he uses his fingers to split my pliant lips before dipping his grubby fingers inside me. “Fuck, you are wet aren’t you. Were you like this for Ryker?” he asks as he pushes in deeply. “I can’t wait to sink into your sweet, sweet fucking cunt.” I try not to move. I try not to show my pleasure even though my body is rebelling against my head. “Will you like it, Georgia?”

I can feel my clit pulsing and twitching of its own accord. It fucking wants it, after being left sated, I guess I was still ready to go another round. I can’t give him the pleasure of hearing my cry, my moans or my screams of ecstasy, even though I know this is what my body wants. 

“Do you like that Georgia? I think you want to squeeze out my orgasm between those tight fucking muscles.” I stand still as I won’t give it to him. I won’t answer him. 

Smack! 

“I asked you a question, bitch.” My face feels on fire and my jaw aches, but I stand rigid and disobey his command. I won’t give in. So he asks again, grinding out every word. He thrusts two more fingers into me roughly, it’s nothing like I just had with Ryker. There’s no passion, no fire and no pleasure. Which gains me another hit across the face, but this time I taste blood in my cheeks. 

I stare at him defiantly, not saying a word. Fuck him. Any man that has to take a woman by force is a piece of shit. Looking me in the eyes, looking for approval of his
foreplay,
Jack loses his patience, punching me instead. The sting reaches my eye, my nose and I swear my teeth rattled as he sent me soaring clear across the bed. I land on the unmade sheets in a tangled mess of limbs, face down and vulnerable. I know if I stay this way, I’m giving him the worst possible position for me to defend myself. 

I scramble up, shoving myself as far up to the bed as possible. I can feel my eye starting to close. Soon I won’t see him clear enough to strike out; but I
will
still defy him. I
will
still deny him the pleasure of my screams of passion, and I
will
withhold every ounce of orgasm I can. The look in Jack’s eyes is that of a clear and present danger to my body, but he’ll not get my soul. I shored the box up around that bitch years ago and he will not break me. 

“Fine, if this is the way it will go, stay silent for now. But be warned Georgia, I will hear you scream fo —” The last part cut off from a blast at the door. The handle shatters when it is blown inward and Ryker stands there with shotgun in hand. The blue in his eyes glows brightly, stark against the dusky hallway, with an avenging angel lighting his eyes.

“Oh, so we grew a set, eh kid? Wanna a piece too, or you don’t intend to share your toys?” Jack stands at the edge of the bed, poised to dive for his gun, but Ryker sets his line of sight and waits. A glaring smile runs the length of that bloodied mouth as he looks dangerous, hellish and fucking fantastic.

“Step off old man. I’ve taken your shit long enough. This ends now.” He stands stoic and stone-like. Ryker is a Viking warrior of old standing to take his vengeance. 

Oh, good imagination Georgia. Now is not the time for a heroic battle with lore and yore’s involved. 

“Take the shot kid, if you have the balls. You don’t have the fucking balls for it though, do you? You never did. Why'd you think I never sent you back to New York? I knew you were just as flawed and weak as that cocksucker father and slut mother of yours. I knew you couldn’t handle the kill; you don’t have it in you. You’re not a murderer,” he says gleefully as he glares at Ryker. 

Ryker stares down at the floor, looking like he’ll drop the gun. Jack sees it and steps forward to take the gun from him. At the last moment, Ryker lifts his head, stares forcefully and steadfast. Jack’s mistake was that he let his guard down, and it will be his downfall. 

“No old man, you taught me to toy with your prey.” 

I can’t see Jack’s face, but I know if I could it would be one of shock. Ryker pulls the trigger, sending Jack reeling into the wall beside the bed. He takes the full force of the gunshot in his chest. Jack stands for a moment then wobbles in his footing, falling back against the light grey wall. A small noise escapes him before he quits breathing altogether — naked with a still fully erect cock. 

Ryker drops the butt of the gun to the floor and leans it against the wall. He looks to me — with his one good eye and I feel hysterical laughter bubbling to the surface; we’re a great set, he sees out of one side and so do I. 

“You ok?”

“I was going to ask you that.” I try to smile and wince as the pain radiates through my cheek.  

“I thought he’d — I heard nothing from here,” he says visibly shaking. “I was so worried that I wouldn’t get here in time.” He reaches the side of the bed where I’m kneeling, tangled in the sheets. “I had to go through to the garage quietly to get my gun. I knew I should’ve put one in the house, but I hate them inside.” 

“I thought you weren’t coming. I thought I was alone.” 

“You gave up on me that fast?” Ryker says as he smiles. 

Reaching out, I wipe caked blood from the side of his face. “We need to get out of here, get you checked and clear out.” I pull up off the bed and grab my pants from the floor, before the blood leaking out of Jack touches them. That, I won’t be able to clean off or explain in public.  

“If Jack came here, Gianfranco and Mario are due soon. You need to get a move on.” Ryker reaches into his dresser, pulls out a clean pair of khakis, a black v-neck tee and a stack of wrapped bills. “Here, take these. Take the truck and get out of town. I’ll report it stolen — sometime.” He smirks and I’m glad the twinkle is back in those bright eyes. 

“What do you mean
I
need to get going? You just killed Jack in your bedroom. GF will be on your ass so fast —” Ryker cuts me off with a finger to my sensitive mouth, gently but forcefully. 

“Look, if I go then it’s suspicious. If just you go, I can make up a fucking cracker of a story. I brought you here, didn’t know who you were…” He runs a finger through my hair to straighten it out. “I had my dirty way with you, blah, blah, blah.” He strokes the swollen side of my face softly, sweetly, then kisses the side of my mouth that is unmarred. “Unknowingly I found out who you are when Jack came by. You and he got in a fight and you killed him. The story is plausible, you’re off and running, and they won’t suspect anything different.”  

Sounds good, except for one big fucking issue. I need that USB. That’s why they’re here. That’s what they want. It would lock them all away. It would open up the cartel connections, the gun running, the girls, the drugs — everything, and their lives would fall down around them. 

I take a deep breath, wince once more at the pain it causes and take Ryker’s hand in mine. I need to tell him the rest. “I can’t leave without going to my car.” 

“I told you it’s a wreck. There’s nothing there that the money I gave you can’t buy, Georgia.” Ryker is angered by my answer. I guess he thought it all had to do with money, as everything normally does, but this is different. 

“I need to get to it. And now that Jack isn’t there, I should be able to go to the car, get what I need, and go. Plus, I really should say bye to Hazel. She deserves a goodbye.” Ryker must think I’m nuts, at least that’s how his shocked expression reads. 

“You have a fucking death wish? You
want
to go back there, and
hope
you don’t see Gianfranco or Mario? You’re psycho.” 

“You could be right…It’s a family trait.” Might as well admit it. Ryker doesn’t understand my reasons unless I tell him it all the sordid details, the one very critical piece I’ve held back. I’ve hid it for so long that voicing it it then becomes tangible.

“They’ve been tracking me, not because my dear ol’ dad wants his sweet daughter home, he wants me for what I have. What my mother stole from him.”

For the next hour I explain the rest. When my mom, my aunt, my cousin and I left it was with a downloaded list. At the time it was a disc which is kind of antiquated, so I transferred it to a USB and I carry it in
that
car. I don’t dare carry it on me as it’s the first place they would look. They’d look in my goddamn o’ring if needed. 

Ryker sits quiet, listening, asking questions here and there but doesn’t put in his two cents on the predicament. “Putting it in the car had been the safest place. No one looks at a wreck twice and that’s why I couldn’t let you scrap it. It’s also why I fucking freaked when you had it torn apart in the shop. I thought you found it or at least that you
were
looking for it.” 

Pulling the stopper on the remaining scotch, standing there I guzzle direct from the neck of the bottle as much as I can. I wish I could bathe in it to remove the remnants of Jack from my skin, but that will have to wait. 

“So…” Ryker extends his hand for me to pass the bottle over, I give it up grudgingly and wait for him to finish his thought. He swigs, shaking his head to clear the sting to the invisible cuts in his mouth and continues. “You have a list that they want. What’s it of?” 

“Everything. The cartel’s, the locations, the names, the players in the mafia both in New York and Chicago, all of the hiding places that they transport women to, guns and drugs, and what FBI and DEA agents they have on the take. And all of his properties — all of them — the good the bad and the ugly.” 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit outdated?” He swallows another mouthful then hands it across. 

“Yeah, see that’s the thing. At the time it was just a list, but my mom was a smart cookie. She understood GF better than anyone, even better than Mario and his other partners. She had her name added to all of the deeds. She was the president of most of the holding companies back then, so if he wanted to change it he needed her signature and her. She had to be present or nothing moved.” 

“It was fucking brilliant and a wicked insurance policy for her and him both. He saw it as someone taking the fall; to her, she was a necessity. If she wasn’t there, no one could sell the company, and if she was killed, then it was all willed to his only living relative. Me.” 

“That sly fuckin’ fox.” Ryker says as he goes to the icebox, pulling out the tray, smacking a few cubes to a cloth, then handing it to me. “Here take this. Press it up on that eye. I can’t have you walking in there looking like you were in a royal rumble.” 

True. I look at my reflection in the stainless steel fridge. Even distorted, it looks very macabre. I accept the cloth and raise it. Ryker plunks a few onto a cloth for himself as well. We’re such a site. 

“Very War of the Roses, wouldn’t you say?” Giggling at the crazy eighties reference. It hurts to smile, it hurts to laugh, but both feel good because I don’t have a sore ass. 

“Ok, but you’re technically dead?” 

“See that’s where the lines blur. The reason I was put in protection and handled by your dad —”  

“Don’t. Don’t call him that,” Ryker clips off harshly. 

“Fine.” I understand his sharpness, so I continue without referring to CJ as such again. “The info on the USB is stuff she didn’t tell them and the rest were froze. They can’t be sold and I’m —” I reposition the cloth on my face and pause when I hit a particularly tender area. “Technically, I’m more of a found
missing persons
. It’s like I was a stolen child, not a dead child. I can inherit everything. She had legit corporations, so I’m actually really rich.” 

“Can’t tell by the wrecker.” I swat at his shoulder and laugh. He chuckles then takes the bottle, swigging a mouthful in. “So you’ll miraculously be resurrected so they can what — have you transfer the dollars and cents over?” Shifting his jaw to clack it, Ryker lifts the ice, and tosses a few more cubes in. “All that searching to kill you for a tiny piece of their empire? Doesn’t sound like a smart investment.”

“Well…” Scrunching my nose up, I think of the best way to break it to him and I decide it’s best to just blurt it out. “There’s gotta be close to ten million dollars by now.” 

With that, Ryker drops the bottle of scotch he was drinking from. It smashes against the tiled floor, shattering into a thousand little pieces, taking with it the ends of our relief.