Dirty Ugly Toy (26 page)

Turning in her arms, I devour her features. She’s managed to hide a bruise on her cheek and around her eye with heavy makeup. And now that I’m looking at her, I can see her neck is dotted with makeup covered bruises. More bruises that she didn’t cover up are around her upper arm.

I will murder whoever did this to her with my bare fucking hands.

“Who? What did he look like? Did he have a toy with him?”

She stands on her toes and kisses my lips. Her soft touch calms me more. “Some guy with blond hair. He was just playing with me until he saw the gold lanyard in my hands. Then he ran off. I’m fine. I promise. Let’s just forget about it, Brax. I begged Dubois not to call you so please don’t punish him.”

I flick my gaze over my shoulder to see Dubois dusting himself off. He’s back in his seat and tapping away on his computer. We’ve come to blows before, he and I. And despite being pissed at him, I know he has my best interest at heart. He’ll find the motherfucker who did this. The determination in his eyes tells me so.

“What floor did this happen on?”

She chews on her lip and debates on whether or not to tell me. “Um, in the elevator.”

I groan. There aren’t cameras on the elevator or on the Black or penthouse floors for the discretion of our members. Had it happened anywhere else, I’d already know which fucker did this to her and have killed him.

“Brax, I promise. I’m fine. It was my fault.” Her smile is almost convincing. But it’s so practiced that it scares me. She’s done this before—convinced people with a charming, easy smile.

I’m not fucking convinced.

This was not her fault.

And I’ll make it my mission to find out who did it so I can ruin them.

With Jessica’s hand threaded in mine, we exit the elevator and walk toward the private dining room. Tonight, I asked Jamal and Glenna to join us and told them to bring their toys as well—one of the perks to their jobs. Dubois has decided to stay back to research what happened while we go to dinner. I’m on edge and don’t want to deal with James but it’s inevitable.

“Brax, buddy!” James’ voice barks out as we enter the dark, swanky dining room. He stands from the table and strides over to us. “This must be Bunny.”

His leering eyes are all over her and I want to stand in front of her to shield her from his stare. Her hand grows cold in mine and I know he intimidates her for some reason.

“Bunny, this is James. James, my toy.”

He reaches for her hand to shake and when she reluctantly offers it, he draws her into a friendly hug. The asshole has been drinking and clearly doesn’t know he’s crossing the line at the moment. She cries out when he hugs her which has me jerking her back away from him.

“Hands off my toy.” My voice is a low, threatening growl.

“Woah, man, I didn’t mean to hurt her. I barely touched her. Are you okay, little peach?” he questions in faux concern.

Something about the way his eyes seem to lazily caress her skin makes me fucking crazy.

“No, uh,” she stammers. “I’m a little sore from working out. You couldn’t have known that.”

She’s playing the part. Hiding the beating she took earlier from some blond dipshit. If James didn’t have dark brown hair, I’d have already killed him just because.

“I see,” he says, a proud smile stretching over his lips. “Glad to see you work out. Toys should be in great shape for their masters. You and Brax should come to Georgia sometime. The peaches there are fucking juicy and delicious.”

She clutches onto my hand as if she’s frightened of him and I want to punch him in the nose.

“Okay, James. That’s enough. Let’s see your toy.”

He laughs and only stumbles slightly before making his way back over to the round table where everyone sits. All of the toys don their black lanyards and Jess proudly wears her gold one. I don’t care if she’s on my arm all night, that lanyard isn’t leaving her neck again until we’re on the airplane back to Seattle.

We take our seats and James slides an arm around the tiny brunette. Her eyes are dilated and she seems lost. I know the look. Bunny had the same far-off look when she was fucked up on heroin. It would seem James likes them this way. Cherry’s lip is swollen and her neck is a mixture of bruises and hickeys.

Dinner is awkward. Jamal and Glenna are both on their best behavior after the Trevor fiasco. Both fear me as if at any minute I’ll crawl over the table and beat the shit out of them too. They’re safe though because as the night wanes on, the only asshole I want to kill is James.

Bunny of course dazzles everyone with her knowledge of current events and maintains her place as an equal whereas the other toys seem lost and confused. She’s different. Always was. And now I’m proud of that fact.

“So,” James slurs and nearly knocks over Cherry’s wine glass. “Tell them what you like me to do, Cher-bear.”

He must squeeze her thigh under the table because she yelps and for a brief moment fear flashes across her dull eyes when she glances my way. Bunny, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange, stiffens from beside me.

“I like when he hurts me.” Cherry’s response is robotic in nature.

“Excuse me,” Bunny says suddenly as she stands, earning a nasty glare from James. “I need to visit the ladies room.”

“Me too,” Cherry blurts out.

James yanks Cherry back down into her seat. “Sit down, bitch. Piss on the floor for all I care.”

Bunny doesn’t waste any time in hauling ass out of the dining room.

“James, man. Let the toy go to the bathroom.” I tell him, a firm, non-negotiating tone in my voice. He may be a paying customer but I don’t like his attitude. At the end of the day, I call the shots around here.

He grunts and with an annoyed, clipped nod grants her permission to which Cherry flies out of her seat to get away from him. I study him as he watches her much like a lion would gaze upon the gazelle he’s about to kill. It makes me want to choke him. I’ve gone from looking forward to meeting this client to ready to kill him all in the course of one day.

Distracting him from doing something stupid, I ask him about his campaign. For the next twenty minutes, he drones on about stuff I don’t give a shit about.

What I do give a shit about is the fact that James reminds me a lot of myself. And unfortunately, I’m not liking this mirror glimpse of the bastard I am. We’re sick individuals. We take pleasure on harming women. Humiliating them. Owning them.

Will it ever be enough?

Do sadistic fucks like us ever feel whole?

Every toy I’ve had has fulfilled wants but there’s an underlying need that never seems to be completed no matter how perfect I mold them. My brain and dick are on fucking board twenty-four-seven but my chest aches for more.

With Jessica, she saturates herself into my pores. Her scent and laugh are seared into my mind. I’m confused and faltering with her. But she gives me the more I so desperately crave. The more I never quite understood was missing.

As James drones on, happy as fuck talking about himself, I stifle a smile. She may be changing who I am, but I don’t feel weak. In some ways, it’s as if I’ve been injected with power—injected with
her
and I love the feeling.

She may get high on street drugs.

But I’m high on her.

And I’m not looking to curb my addiction anytime soon.

I
’m pacing the bathroom in an attempt to kill time. Running into Jimmy has been a nightmare drudged up from the depths of hell. Every awful thing he’s ever done to me is fresh and once again bleeding. Brax. Drugs. Nothing will distract me from the pain that is ripping my heart apart. Thinking of Jimmy makes me think about
her
. Thinking about
her
makes me want to put a gun in my mouth and never look back.

Jesus, I miss her.

My hand goes to my belly as it does from time to time when I’m reminded of her. It’s been over six years but sometimes I still imagine I can feel her inside kicking. Her name was Grace and she was mine. She made the hell I’d endured with Jimmy worth it. And as soon as she was born, I was going to run away with her. I would leave that life behind with my innocent baby girl.

But it didn’t happen that way.

I’d been hiding in my closet one night, my place of refuge and solace, when he’d come in drunk. He beat the shit out of me, no surprise there. But when he dragged me to the top of the stairs and gave me a shove, I was shocked at his new low. Every step down, I tried to protect my seven month along unborn child. I knew if we could survive that fall, we could survive anything.

Yet, one of us didn’t survive.

I desperately clutched onto my belly and despite the searing pain—despite all the blood gushing from me—I just knew everything would be okay. But she didn’t kick or move. And even though I held out hope, I knew deep down what had happened.

The connection was gone.

Severed.

Lost.

All because of that monster.

When the ambulance arrived, I had already been prepped by my husband dearest with exactly what to say.
It was an accident. I tripped and fell.
Who wouldn’t believe the beloved politician and his lovely wife?

The only reason I didn’t go to the police about his murder was because he threatened to have my mother and brother killed. I had to heal and then I’d be gone. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me or my family ever again. Before I left, my brother Jude came to see me. He knew. Jude knew I was a battered woman and he wanted to kill the sonofabitch. But Jude, the sometimes unemployed black sheep of the family, couldn’t do a thing about it. Jimmy would have buried him—ruined his entire life.

So one warm summer morning a few months after I lost Grace, I grabbed my passport, a small suitcase, all of my hate for Jimmy, and left for the UK. For the next six years, I hid from that man and did what I could to erase the pain of what he did to me.

And after all these years, I’m still afraid of him. I know how evil he can be. What he’s done. What he took from me.

I’ll die before I let that man take me back to Georgia.

I’m not the same woman who ran away.

This woman is slightly crazier. Unhinged. Capable of murder if it came to it.

My heart aches because deep down, I know Brax will be a casualty. He’ll be like my mom and my brother. The only way to save him will be to leave him. He has the money and means to protect me but so does Jimmy who will stop at nothing to have me back. I trust that he has the power and affiliates to bury Braxton Kennedy like he threatened. There’s no doubt in my mind.

But not this time. I’m done letting him hurt me. I’ll work on a way to leave Brax as unscathed as possible and I’ll find a way to survive again on my own. Away from the haunting memories.

A soft click of the bathroom door tells me someone has joined me. Terror freezes my veins as I worry that Jimmy has somehow sneaked in here with me. But, much to my delight, it’s only Cherry.

Cherry reminds me so much of the old me, it hurts just looking at her.

“Are you okay?” she questions.

Her dark hair is styled in a way I used to wear mine. I know Jimmy chose her because she reminds him of me. My stomach sours with the realization that he probably hurts her like he did with me. Maybe even worse if he’s punishing her for my leaving him.