Sweet Destruction by Paige Weaver
“You can’t do this!” Sam screeched, stepping between Bentley and me. “I won’t let you!”
I finally got the nerve to look at her. “You forget, Ross, I’m hell on wheels,” I said, ruthlessly. “The expert. I’ll make him pay.”
Bent smiled, a sideways grin. “And I’m the pro, sis, damned a long time ago.”
I smirked, the devil in me loving what was about to happen. “Well, Bent, I guess it’s time we brought hell and damnation to the world.”
“Amen, brother.”
Chapter Thirty–Five
-Walker-
“You going to talk to me, Walker?”
I glanced over at Sam, sitting in the same seat where I had taken her virginity. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a spanking new t-shirt. Her hair was still a mess and her face … god, her face was bruised and battered.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter and concentrated on the road. It had stopped raining but a heavy dampness still hung in the air, threatening to release another shitload of rain on us. It made the heat worse, into a thick cloud of warmth that turned the simple act of moving into a chore. I turned down the A/C and ignored the sheen of sweat on my skin.
We had left my dad’s thirty minutes ago. First stop, Sam’s trailer. I stood in her bedroom doorway and watched as she grabbed some clothes and raced from her room, neither of us speaking. Minutes later she came out of the bathroom, making a point to stare me in the eyes, trying to get a rise out of me.
But I was still fucking mad. Insane with rage. Bent had taken off in a black Mercedes that came to pick him up. I wanted to go with him. Rip Pam Man’s head off. Use it as a baseball and smack it across the river separating the haves from the have-nots. But I couldn’t leave Sam yet and Bentley was going to work out the details with his people.
My job for right now was to watch over Sam until it was time. Then we planned to leave her with – of all people – Lukas. He was the only one who couldn’t be traced to Bentley or me. I wasn’t happy about it, but I had my own ways to make the guy behave.
“So I guess that’s a no,” Sam said on a sigh when I didn’t answer.
I glanced over at her. She was staring out the passenger window. The lights from outside flashed across her beautiful face, highlighting her full lips and bruised cheekbone.
I downshifted and turned the corner into my apartment complex. Pulling into an empty spot, I cut the engine. “Let’s go,” I said, hating that my voice sounded rough. Assholeish.
Before she could say anything I opened my door and climbed out, the heat hitting me like a ton of bricks. I waited at the front bumper as Sam got out of the car slower, the strap of her overnight bag hanging from her hand. My keys cut into my palm as my eyes ran over her. I needed the pain it caused. It helped me focus. Kept the rage inside me from leaving.
I met Sam at the foot of our stairs and let her go ahead of me. A light mist had started to fall, making the steps slick. I didn’t trust those Converses she was wearing. One slip and she was a goner. Then I would be forced to put my hands on her.
At the door, I reached around and unlocked it. She went in before me and I switched on a light, embarrassed by our sparse living conditions.
The couch was a hand-me-down from a neighbor we didn’t know. Truth was we found it on the curb. The TV was a state-of-the-art plasma screen. It cost more than three months of our rent. We did have our priorities.
The kitchen held a table, two chairs, and plenty of food. That’s one thing Bent and I did – eat well. Going hungry for so long as kids meant we stockpiled food like we were preppers.
Lining the kitchen counters was what I needed right now. Bottles of different kinds of liquor stood proudly against the cheap tiles of the backsplash. I headed that way, letting Sam find her own way around our apartment. Wasn’t like it was that big anyway.
I heard her drop her bag on the floor and follow me. I shook my head with frustration. Did she not know how close I was to losing it? Ignoring her, I headed straight for the bourbon.
“A drink? That really necessary?” she asked, stopping a few feet from me and watching me grab a cheap glass from the cabinet.
I cut my eyes over to her. “Oh yeah, it is. Believe me.”
I poured a drink with shaking hands, my heart beating faster as I heard her walk toward me. Raising the glass to my mouth, I started to down it when Sam reached out and snatched it from my hand. I looked at her with surprise, watching as she tossed the drink back without a grimace.
She slammed the glass back on the counter. “Another,” she demanded. “I’ll do the drinking. You just drive.”
I shook my head. “No way,” I said, screwing the top back on the bourbon. My poison was mine. I didn’t want her to have any part of it. I had destroyed her enough. Letting her get drunk would just be over the top destruction.
Fire lit in her eyes as she glared up at me, the top of her head reaching the middle of my chest. “You can’t tell me no, Walker. Despite what you say, you don’t own me.” She reached in front of me, grabbing the bottle and unscrewing it, pouring herself another drink.
“Sam, you really need to back off. I’m pissed and I’ve been drinking.” I couldn’t tell her that I was scared to death. That the moment I heard she was hurt, I had seen my life flash before my eyes.
And that life was with her.
“So?” she asked with that attitude I had grown to love.
I leaned down, bringing my face closer to hers. God, I wanted to kiss her. Screw that. I wanted to lay her down on the kitchen table behind us and screw her senseless. Instead I fed the darkness in me. It was safer than touching her.
“So that monster you once accused me of being, he’s here and he wants to hurt the motherfucker who did this to you,” I hissed, glancing down at her split lip. “And I’m afraid if I touch you, he won’t be gentle and you don’t need that right now.”
I saw Sam swallow hard, doubt in her eyes. But what I wanted to see wasn’t there – fear.
“How do you know what I need?” she snapped. “Maybe I need you.”
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang.
Lukas.
She spun on her heel and stalked from the kitchen, her little ass swinging provocatively.
I cursed under my breath. So what if her words caused my dick to rise to the occasion. She didn’t know what she was talking about. I knew what she needed and it wasn’t me.
Shaking my head in disgust, I set the bottle back on the counter and pushed it away. I didn’t want a drink anymore. I had to keep my head on straight. For once in my life I had to do the right thing, even if what I was about to do might get me killed.
I ambled out of the kitchen, trying to control the jealousy that I knew would be there when I saw Lukas near Sam.
He was standing a few feet from her, his black hair hanging down past his bloodshot eyes. I wanted to rush across the room and take him to the floor, remembering what he said the last time I saw him – that his place was between Sam’s legs. But I held back. There were other assholes to take care of first.
I headed toward him and Sam, ready to give him instructions not to touch her if he valued his life, but my phone buzzed.
“What’s you’re ETA?” I asked, answering without looking at the caller ID.
“Five minutes. Lukas there?” Bent said, talking over some background noise.
I eyed Lukas, watching as he jerked his chin toward me in greeting. “Yeah. I was about to read him the riot act.”
“Good. See you in a few.”
I stuffed the phone back into my rear pocket then closed the distance between Sam and me. She had her arms crossed, staring holes into Lukas and looking pissed. My jealousy eased, knowing she wouldn’t let him touch her. But I still didn’t trust him.
“What the hell did you let happen to her?” Lukas shouted as soon as I stopped next to Sam. “She’s black and blue!”
The hair on the back of my neck rose, the darkness in me not happy. “I fucked up
“Yeah,” Lukas said, averting his eyes and stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his skinny jeans.
“Better stay that way,” I warned him. “I’m trusting you with her.”
He gave me a curt nod and that’s all I needed. Going against my better judgment, I touched Sam, grabbing her hand. She didn’t protest as I pulled her out of the apartment and down the stairs, out toward my car. At the bumper, I stopped and turned around, dropping her hand.
“You’ll be safe at his house, Sam. I’ll get you when this is all over. Just hang tight.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “And what about you? Are you going to be safe?”
I snorted and crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking her. “As safe as I can be.”
She took a step toward me, planting herself near my spread legs. “Not good enough, Walker. Just don’t do this. We’ll think of something else.”
I rubbed the stubble on my chin and glanced around, anything to avoid looking at her. We had hours until daybreak. Just enough time to get this job done and get back to her before the sun came up. Plenty of time for me to feed the darkness in me, giving it the revenge it craved.
“Listen, Sam, I’ve lifted more cars than I can count. I know what I’m doing,” I explained.
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking pissed. “Really? You one hundred percent sure about that? Because I don’t think you know what you’re doing with me half the time so how do you know---”
I grasped her elbow, bringing her closer. My voice dropped, growing thick and rugged. “I know what I’m doing with you, Sam Ross. I’m living for you and I’m dying for you. And I plan on loving you every chance I get.”
Before she could protest I tangled my hands in the loose strands of her hair and captured her lips with mine. The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle. It wasn’t born out of love or attraction. It was needy and raw. Full of passion and hunger. I had nothing to lose so I was determined to give her everything.
I thrust my tongue into her mouth, sampling her. At the same time a black sedan pulled into the parking lot, easing to a stop next to my Plymouth Duster. I didn’t care. I swiped my tongue along the top of Sam’s mouth, my fingers delving deeper into her hair. I wanted her closer. I needed her next to me. I tasted her full lips, wanting to remember how they felt against mine forever. It didn’t matter that we weren’t alone. I didn’t give a flying fuck that her brother was probably watching from the sedan. I wrapped my arms around Sam. The monster in me going silent for once.
Bentley swore a blue streak and I heard Lukas curse as he walked up, but I didn’t care. I kissed Sam like a dying man about to meet his maker. It wasn’t until I heard Bentley say that it was time to leave that I let her go.
I started to walk away but stopped. Seeing Sam like that – standing there with her hair messy, her eyes shiny with tears - something hit me in the heart. I knew I had to say one more thing to her.
I reached for her, tracing my hand along the curve of her hip and to the ridge of her bottom. Pulling her close, I leaned down, putting my mouth right above her ear, covered by her disarrayed hair.
“By the way, that word you wanted … the one I wouldn’t tell you … it was ‘amazing.’ It would be amazing with you, Sam.”
Before she could ask what I meant, I turned and walked away.
I just told her what had chased me out of her house after fucking her earlier. The thought that scared me to death. Wanting a future with her. Having kids with her. It would be amazing. No, it would be a dream. One I shouldn’t be allowed to have.
But now it was time to turn off my feelings. Feed the destructive nature that had woven into my soul so long ago. I lived to destroy. To play. To steal. To take. It was time I returned to that life.
For Sam.
Chapter Thirty–Six
-Walker-
I slid into the rear seat of the black Mercedes and watched out the rain-splattered window as Lukas touched Sam’s arm, getting her attention. I grabbed the door handle, planning on jumping out, but Bent stopped me.
“She’s fine, Walker. I’ve got eyes on her too. Good eyes this time. Here. You’ll need this,” he said, handing me a large Styrofoam cup from the passenger seat.
I took it, the smell of coffee clearing my mind. It wasn’t what I wanted, but if I was going to keep my head on straight, I had to be sober. Last thing I wanted was booze clouding my judgment.
I swallowed a sip of the bitter, steaming coffee as Bent’s guy backed up the Mercedes. We left the apartment parking lot with barely a sound, the Mercedes’s engine quiet. It was an S Class model, with all the bells and whistles. The engine purred like a kitten and the butter cream leather enveloped me in elegance as soon as I sat down, giving passengers a sense of having more money than God.
“This is Mr. Rollins,” Bent said, indicating the big man in the driver’s seat. “He’s going to get us where we need to go.”
The guy didn’t acknowledge me. He kept his eyes glued to the road, his dark skin looking even darker in the night. His head was bald and his body big, hardly fitting in the driver’s seat. The brown tweed jacket he wore was vintage, something out of my dad’s era. He didn’t look like he belonged behind the wheel of a luxury car. He seemed more the type to drive an old school ’78 Caddy instead.
“So … someone gonna tell me what the plan is or we winging it?” I asked, impatient to get the show on the road.
Rollins didn’t answer. His giant fingers handled the wheel with ease as we turned a sharp corner, hitting the highway. I held onto my coffee as he stepped on the gas, the AMG biturbo V8 in the Mercedes doing its thing.
Bent adjusted the A/C vent then reclined back in the passenger seat. “Morrow switched the drugs. They’re in a different car,” he said like he was discussing the damned weather.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“We just know,” Mr. Rollins said in an extremely deep, baritone voice, reminding me more of Barry White than a guy about to commit a crime.
“Then we steal the new car. What is it?” I asked.
“Morrow’s own personal McLaren,” Bent answered, twitching his eyebrows up and down at me from the front seat.
I whistled low. A million-dollar car. The stakes just went sky high. Like impossible high.
“BUT we’re not taking it,” Bent added. “We’re still stealing the Lotus.”
“Wait. What about the drugs? That’s what Mick’s after. If they’re not in the Lotus---”
“We’re planting some in the Lotus,” Bent said, interrupting me. “Plan is Mr. Rollins here will take us to the car. We know exactly where it is, thanks to the daughter’s Tweets. I happen to have an old friend that works as a valet at the club she will be at. Lucky us. I’ll Snapchat him when we get there. He pulls the key and leaves it for us. Then we grab the car, meet Mr. Rollins at a different location, and he plants the drugs. We haul ass to meet Mick at the airstrip. My boys show up and catch him two-timing their asses. They do their thing. We do our ours. Job done.”
“Mick finished,” I added.
~~~~
“There it is,” Mr. Rollins said, easing into a parking spot across the street from where the Lotus sat.
I glanced out the blacked-out windows of the Mercedes. We were in the high-end club district, the area where if you’re name wasn’t on a list, you weren’t getting in. Where millionaires’ sons and daughters mixed and mingled, partying like there was no tomorrow and spending Daddy’s money like it grew on trees.
Bars lined the wet, rain-soaked streets, upscale establishments that probably had as much drugs and underage drinking as my own area did. Across from us sat the Magnolia Lounge. People came and went out of its massive blood-red doors. It was at least another hour until closing time. Plenty of opportunity to take what wasn’t mine.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Bent said, glancing first at me then Rollins.
“Ten minutes, B,” Rollins said, checking the rearview mirror and letting us know how much time we had to get the car and meet up with him at the rendezvous point.
I popped my door open the same time Bentley opened his. Heat enveloped me, chasing away the nice cool interior of the Mercedes. I got out, feeling beads of sweat soak the back of my neck. But the coldness in my veins cooled me, blocking all thoughts and feelings from my mind except what I was about to do.
Rollins drove away in the Mercedes, the engine barely making a sound. At the same time, Bentley pulled out his phone and sent the Snapchat to the valet, letting him know that we were there. The text would disappear in ten seconds flat with no trace left behind. After that, we started strolling across the parking lot, looking like we belonged there. Just two guys out on the prowl.
Porsches and corvettes filled the area, gleaming under the streetlights. I stuffed my hands in my jean’s pockets, trying to appear laidback despite my heart going a hundred and twenty miles an hour. The adrenaline rush I used to get from lifting cars returned. I was as addicted to it as I was to liquor.
And Sam.
Bent stayed beside me, whistling softly but keeping his eyes open for trouble. I could almost feel his excitement from inches away.
“Hellooooo, gorgeous,” he whispered when two girls starting walking our way. They were both blondes. Supermodel types. Their skirts were short and their faces Photoshop perfect. One of them had a Gucci handbag swinging from her shoulder, probably a gift from her daddy. The other simply looked like a million bucks, times two. They stared at Bentley and me, almost salivating when they saw us.
“Focus, Bent,” I said under my breath as they got closer.
“God, I am,” he said, giving them his best Let-Me-Rock-Your-World smile as they walked by.
I shook my head, blown away that he could be a ladies man even in the middle of a heist.
Bentley stole another glance over his shoulder at the girls before we crossed the street to another parking lot. This one put us closer to the Magnolia Club, which meant closer to getting noticed. I kept my eyes on a group of hipsters walking out of the club’s door, their beige slacks crisp and their Polo shirts impeccable. A few of them were swaying, drunk off their asses. They headed toward the parking lot we just left, turning their backs on us.