“You’re house key? It’s under the mat. Call me if you need me, Cash.”
I waved him off and walked toward the front door, listening to the sound of him driving away.
Inside the strip joint, I made my way over to the bar. I laughed, not quite believing my eyes. Three years and he was still here? The rest of the place looked the same too. Same red velvet couches, same daggy wallpaper, same scuffed, torn carpet. Probably the same women too.
“Yo Frankie.”
Frankie turned around, the shock on his face quickly turning into excitement.
“Holy shit Cash, I didn’t know you were out.” He walked around the bar and hugged me. I chuckled, patting his back.
“Yeah, as of about an hour ago. What’s up? Tell me everything. And grab me a beer while you’re at it.” I pushed the fifty across the bar. He shook his head and pushed it back.
“No fucking way, your money’s no good here, man. Sit down.” He filled a beer and placed it in front of me. “Hey it must’ve been awhile since, well, you know.” He winked at me. “Hey Crystal! Get the fuck out here!”
I chucked. Good old Frankie. I glanced up at the stunning blonde who had rounded the corner. She wore a simple white sundress and nothing else, which was evidenced by he stiff as fuck nipples that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from. Her face lit up when she saw me.
“Yeah Frankie?” she asked, her eyes still firmly on me as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger.
“This is an old friend of mine. I want you to give him the royal service. Whatever he wants, he gets. My treat.” He winked at me as Crystal took me by the hand and led me away.
Yep, being out of prison definitely had its perks.
Mace
Leet met me at the front door, frowning. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
“That bad, huh?”
“Pretty much. Dropped him at a strip joint, he said he’d call if he needed me. In other words, he’ll call when he wants me to bail him out of whatever shit he gets himself into this time.”
“I’m sorry,” Leet said. “I know how much you wanted things to work out with him.”
I nodded, not having the heart to tell her that this was exactly what I’d expected. This was classic Cash. We’d go back and forth for a few months until he fucked up big enough to land him back inside.
Leeta took me by the hand and led me into the kitchen. My bike was still there, surrounded in grease covered newspapers. I chuckled, and shot her a look.
“Thought this was all going?” I muttered, kissing her neck as she smiled.
“Well, I remembered that this is your place too now, and if you want to fix your bike in the kitchen, then you should be able to.”
I put my hand around her neck, cupping her chin. There was something so incredibly sexy about her right now. I kissed her, hard, my lips crushing against hers, my brother all but completely pushed from my mind.
“Fuck I’m a lucky guy,” I muttered, my tongue rolling down her neck. She giggled, cupping my face with her hands and bringing my lips back to hers.
“No, you’re not lucky. I’m lucky. Even if I have to come home to a kitchen covered in grease every day, I’d still say I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” She laughed as I tugged at her shirt.
“Yeah? I’ll show you how lucky you are,” I muttered, picking her up. She squealed as I hoisted her over my shoulder and carried her into the bedroom and threw her down on the bed, collapsing beside her.
“But really, Leet. I love you. More than anything.”
“I love you too.” She smiled, and kissed me.
Number Thirteen, by Bella Jewel
Available on all major online retailors from March 20th, 2014
Synopsis:
We're thirteen girls, captive, slave to our master.
A master we've never seen.
Obedience will become all we know in our shallow existence. It is the only emotion we're permitted to feel.
When we're bad, we're punished. When we're good, we're rewarded.
Our scars run deep. Yet we survive, because we have to...
because HE teaches us to.
All of us are special, we feel it with everything we are.
He has us for a reason, but it's a reason we don't know.
We've never seen his face, but we know that something deeply broken lies beneath the darkness. With every touch, with every punishment, we know it.
Then something changed.
He showed me who he truly is.
Now I want him.
I'll go against everything I know to be with him.
A monster.
My monster.
Loving him is a sin, but a sinner I am. I won't stop until I see every part of him. Even the parts he keeps locked deep down inside.
I am Number Thirteen, and this is my story.
Excerpt:
Prologue
My boots crunch in the yellow autumn leaves as I walk towards the schoolyard. I didn’t want to come today, but Momma told me I had no choice. She said school is for smart kids, and if I don’t go, then how am I ever going to get smart? I could get smart, the man on the television tells me everything I need to know. But she claims that I can’t make friends with the man on the television, that the only way to make friends is to go to school. I could have told her that I don’t need friends to be successful, but she’d only tell me I’m being silly.
So I came to school.
I didn’t tell her that there are bullies here, or that every day they push me around and shove me into lockers. That would make me sound weak, and now that my dad is working, and my brother is away because he didn’t like the school here, I’ve had to become the man of the house. There’s no room for weakness.
Momma tells me bullies pick on the kids who are victims. I think she’s wrong. I’m not a victim; I’m just a kid. They pick on me because I’m different. I don’t look at the girls like they do; I don’t try to sneak out to parties. I’m only thirteen. I’m just there to learn, then I go home and I take care of my family, because, I’m the man of the house.
Like I said.
The shrill sound of the school bell ringing, tells me I’m late. I pick up into a jog, rounding the corner and into the schoolyard. It’s a cool winter day, and I have to pinch my coat together to stop it from flapping in the icy breeze. I can see the students piling in the front doors, and I turn my jog into a run. I’m focusing so heavily on the doors, that I don’t see them. A strong hand lashes out, catching hold of my sleeve and tugging me into the alleyway that runs down beside my school.
I always knew this alley was dangerous.
My body is slammed against a hard wooden fence, and I set eyes on my bullies. Four of them. They’re all bigger than me, all of them on the football team. They’re from a few grades up, and they’ve just turned sixteen. The leader of the group, Marcel, steps forward first. He scrunches his nose in disgust, as if I’ve just dragged myself out of a gutter, as if I’m offending him. He leans in close, and I can smell cigarettes on his breath.
Smoking is not cool.
“You’ve been trying to avoid me, Will. Did you really think you could hide at home with Mommy, and never have to come out again?”
I stare at him, wondering why he chose me to pick on. I didn’t even know his name until he flagged me down and shoved my head down a toilet six months ago. I was just a kid, keeping my head down, studying and learning like I should. Now here I am, pressed against a fence, wondering why they decided I was good enough to take extra special effort to attack. I don’t bother answering him; it’ll only make him worse. My answers won’t make a difference. If I answer, I’m wrong. If I don’t answer, I’m wrong.