Dirty Ugly Toy (30 page)

He shrugs and tosses me the wet rag. “I’ve done all I came here to do. Besides, I need to show you something and then I have business to take care of. I’m leaving town for a week or so.”

My heart flutters in my chest. “Where are we going?”

I know I heard it right but I don’t want to get left back in Seattle while he jets around the world.

“Dubois and I,
not you
, are going out of the country to take care of a few things. We’re going to check on some investments. Clean up some trash.”

The heart that was flying crashes to the ground. Trash? Does that mean he’s going to get another toy? Am I a bore to him or too much to handle, especially after last night? Tears well in my eyes and I storm away from him. I’m nearly to the shower when he grips my bruised arm and twists me to face him.

“I’m coming back, Bunny.”

I blink furiously so the tears won’t spill over. “Okay,
boss
.”

He frowns and his perfect lips press together in displeasure. “What’s wrong?”

Shrugging, I attempt to pull away but he yanks me back to him. I’m once again transfixed on his lips. He slides a hand into my hair and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s sweet yet domineering. Without words, he’s making a promise to me. When he breaks away from me, I let out a moan from the loss of him.

“What if she’s better than me? What will you do with me?”

He seems flabbergasted by my words. “What the fuck are you talking about, Jessica?”

My name on his lips sets loose a whole army of butterflies in my stomach. “When you go to wherever it is you’re going. Are you getting another toy like me?”

His bellowing laughter startles me and I scowl. “It’s not funny to me,” I sass.

He flashes me a panty-melting grin and drops a kiss on my forehead. “Oh, Bunny. It’s quite hysterical to me, you see,” his voice softening from amused to possessive. “There could never be another toy like you.”

And on that note, he leaves me to stew on more of the confusion that makes up Braxton Kennedy.

Brax and Dubois have been gone all morning while I dressed and ate some breakfast. He’d said I could leave if I needed to but I could see the strain in his eyes. It was apparent he didn’t want me to leave for fear of a repeat of yesterday. I didn’t want to leave for fear of running into Jimmy again.

I sigh and run my fingers through my now dry hair as I look out the window. Las Vegas is a bustling city full of life and excitement, yet here I am missing Brax’s house. I miss Cartier and Christine. I miss his warm vent in his bedroom. And most of all, I miss spending all of my time with Braxton.

The greedy part of me wants to believe that by the end of our agreement, he’ll have fallen hopelessly in love with me. That he’ll have found a way to keep Jimmy away. And that we’ll run off into the sunset holding hands together.

I snort, my bitter laughter echoing off the window. Even I know that’s an illusion I could keep fooling myself into believing. The smart me
knows
. The survivor within me
knows
. I have to enjoy this “vacation” until I get my money. Then, I have to disappear.

From Jimmy.

From Brax.

From the entire world.

And then, perhaps, I can begin to pick up the pieces of my life and start anew. Grace deserved a mother who was strong and could weather any storm. I will prove to my baby girl who never came to be that I’m that woman now. I’ll forever be infected though with the guilt of not having been that woman for her then.

The door to the suite opens and I jerk around, thankful to see it’s just Brax.

“Where’s Dubois?” I question.

“Taking care of some arrangements. Bunny, can you do me a favor?”

I nod and follow him into the other room where a laptop sits open. He taps a couple of things before turning the screen toward me. “Which one?”

His question dizzies me as I stare past the other two faces, my gaze becoming glued to him.
Corgy.
Bile rises in my throat and I clutch my middle.

“Jess, which one?” His voice is tense and impatient. I don’t want to look at the screen but Corgy’s droopy brown eyes burn a hole through me. I’m assaulted by memories that I hate. Memories I tried to forget. It would appear I’m a magnet for monsters.

“That’s it, skank,” Corgy hisses as I scramble onto the bed, eager for a hit. “Show me how much you want it.”

I crawl between his legs and begin fervently sucking his smallish cock. The drugs make it to where he can barely keep it hard half the time. I don’t care if it was the size of his pinky and limp as a noodle though, I’ll do anything for the skag.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans but he’s already softening.

My mouth continues to work him but I don’t know what to do with it when it’s flaccid—it’s not like he can really get off that way.

With a grunt of frustration, he pushes me away. “Bale!”

I’m itching for a hit and I nearly shriek for joy when Bale comes sauntering in with the tray containing my treats. I sit up on my haunches and offer my arm to him. But when Corgy swats it away, I stare at him in confusion.

“Fuck her, Bale.”

Bale makes a groan of excitement and sets the tray on the table by the bed. I gasp in horror when Corgy takes it from him and leaves me on the bed with the man. I need my drugs!

“It’s been a long time, Jessica,” Bale says, his finger drawing circles on my breast. By long time, he means yesterday. Corgy and his friends all take turns fucking me senseless every day.

I can hear Corgy messing with the skag and I drag my gaze to him. “Corgy . . .”

His disgusted glare meets mine. “Bale, do whatever you want with her. If I like what I see, I’ll reward her.” He waves the needle at me and I nod. I will be the best damn lover I can be.

Bale roughly grabs my chin and jerks me to him. “I want you to fight me when I take you.”

The craving to shove him away is strong but I shrug my shoulders instead. In the past, I had to fight off my husband all the time during sex. And Bale isn’t anything like him. Bale is nothing more than a weak, drug-addicted, loser. If I really wanted to prevent him from having sex with me, I could, unlike my husband.

After I nod, Bale begins stripping and soon his eyes take on a feral glint—one I’ve never seen on him before. I’m already naked since Corgy doesn’t like me dressed and I spread my legs to wait for him. Bale is larger than Corgy but not as big as Jimmy was. He’ll never be able to hurt me.

He flips me over onto my stomach and I relax. At least now I don’t have to look at him. My gaze fixates on the ugly floral print wallpaper instead. Bale soon enters me with a pleased grunt and I put on my show for him.

“Please stop. I don’t want this . . .” I squirm as I pretend to resist. One glance at Corgy tells me he’s not pleased with my acting skills.

“No, bitch. You’re getting every thick inch of this!” Bales’ nuts slap my clit and if I had a watch I’d check to see the time.

“No!” I cry out, a little more believable this time.

Bale yanks out of me and soon his hot semen splashes my back. Well, that was easy. When I glance over at Corgy, I’m disappointed to see he’s gone. I start to sit up but I’m pushed back down.

“My turn,” Corgy says with a grumble from behind me. I wait patiently for him to take me too. He spits to wet his cock as he always has to do because I’m never turned on by him or his idiot friends and he shoves it into my sex. The poorly endowed man hardly fills me and is nothing in comparison to Bale. I could almost sleep and I actually do begin to drift off.

Until he pulls out and pokes me a little higher. Jimmy had been grossed out by the idea of taking my ass and surprisingly never had. But now a shudder of fear ripples through me as I wonder if Corgy is about to.

Fire explodes through me, confirming my worst fears, when he shoves himself into the tight opening with a hard thrust. I scream at the top of my lungs and tears instantly begin to roll down my cheeks. My fingers claw at the dingy blanket as I try to get away.

“Bale, put her out of her misery,” he barks out to the other man as he fucks me as if he hates me.

After all these times of making fun in my head of Corgy’s small cock, I’m now eating those words as he brutally takes a part of me that wasn’t ready for even his tiny dick.

“P-P-Please, Corgy,” I beg, my pleas far from acting now.

Each time I clench at his presence there, I’m nearly blinded with searing white, hot pain. I try to relax but it hurts too damn much. I’m praying for death when Bale’s satisfied eyes meet mine as he kneels in front of me. He drags my arm by my wrist toward him. I watch with bated breath, tears streaming down my cheeks, as he ties the rubber around my bicep and thumps my flesh searching for the vein. With a wink, he stabs the vein with the needle and the heated bliss is instantly pushed into my body.

Corgy’s brutality behind me is a thing of the past as I relax and dive into the nothingness that awaits me. With every thrust into me, I grow less aware of my surroundings and shoot into a place where I’m free. I reach for Bale and he clutches my hand. My lips move to tell him thank you but nothing comes out.

The memory sickens me and I point at the brown-eyed twisted motherfucker before bursting from the room to rid myself of my breakfast. I expect Brax to call after me or show some sort of concern for my well-being. Instead, all I hear is a string of curse words as he slams the laptop shut.

I
t’s been a few days since Bunny pointed out that Corgy fuck back in Vegas. Like a man possessed, I spent the next couple of days arranging my affairs to get to London. We never spoke any more on the subject of that asshole, but by the way she seemed to zone out and become sick, I know there’s more to his abuse than the shortened version she told me awhile back. I’d also wormed out the name of her friend when she’d realized I was going to London for a “visit.” She wants me to check on her to see how she’s managed over the years. I’ll be checking on her all right . . .

“There,” I point out the window to a rundown apartment complex in Dagenham.

Dubois slows down the car and we park in front of the curb. He retrieves a tire iron from the trunk and together we make our way into the dilapidated building. Before our trip here, I made sure of the address where the motherfucker lives now. The shithead was too poor to have a mobile phone or internet access, so there was no learning more about him on Facebook or anything to make sure he hadn’t cleaned up or if he has a family now. Dubois and I ascertained that surprising him was the best way to go. We’re not exactly dealing with the best person in the world and the prospect of his rehabilitation is nil.

His flat number is 623, so we stealthily make our way up to the sixth floor. It’s late at night, so we’re unseen aside from the wasted crack whore or drunk along the way. Once we reach the door, Dubois shoves the tire iron in between the door and the frame just above the knob. With a crack and a push, we’re soon garnered access. A quick sweep of the shitty-ass flat that resembles the Hole back home tells us there’s nobody in the front rooms. Dubois guards the door while I slink down the hallway to the only door available. Snores resonate from inside and my chest tightens with satisfaction.