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Authors: H.J. Bellus

The Hunted (19 page)

BOOK: The Hunted
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22

V
an is going
to kick my ass. I know the biker is following me, so I’m safe as safe can get. I pick up my pace when I see the club. My place grew to suffocating levels and I had to escape. I want Van and oddly miss the club life in a strange and absolutely absurd fashion.

First step in and the floors still have their sticky welcome with the deafening music and hooker clanking on the stage. It only takes a matter of seconds before I spot him perched on his stool. The blonde hair cascading around his shoulders sets me on fire! I see red to the point I can’t even remember my first name or why I even showed up here. Honey is dry humping his back to the blaring beat of the song.

Each part of her body flows with the sexy song. Her hips rock back and forth while her tits bounce into his back. She slides them up and down the length of his long lean back.

Van remains stoic with his back to her and facing the bar. I’m stuck in an outer body experience and the last thing I remember is my torso lunging towards hers. My thirsty hands grasp onto her long blonde locks, ripping hard. The sound of her hair follicles being shredded from her scalp only fuel my engines. My knuckles collide with her jawbone until an evil smile spreads across my face.

Dollops of blood scatter across my lips and I don’t know if it’s hers or mine.

“Jesus, Junior.”

“Let me go!” I scream.

“Stop.”

I whip around so furiously in his arms he has no idea what has hit him.

“Fuck you, Van, and fuck the idea of anyone knowing you love me … oh wait I’m just your fuck buddy. Excuse me and take Honey to the hallway and nail her.”

“Basil, stop.”

“Fuck off, Van Hollis.”

I face the exit and walk with vigor–the deafening roar of anger filling my eardrums. His hand wraps around my wrist, and then I’m trapped and pinned against the wall.

“What in the fuck?” he demands.

I ignore him, turning my head to face the exit, letting my tears roll down my face.

“What are you doing here?”

I fight like hell to continue ignoring him.

“It’s not what you think, Junior.”

“You’re mine,” I whisper, avoiding all eye contact with him.

“Bay, I’m doing my fucking job.”

“Please let me go.”

“I haven’t touched her.”

I ignore his comments and feel his grip tighten on each of my wrists. “I was protecting her from a guy who slapped her around a month ago. He’s over in the booth, and she’s scared.”

I finally turn to him with tears streaming down my face. “You’re my Big Bad Wolf not her fucking prince.”

“I’m helping Stew hold down the place, Bay. He doesn’t need the cops called on him again.”

“I’m protecting my heart that I gave you.” I sneer back.

“Come sit and have a drink with me.”

“I’ll kill her, Van. I hate that bitch. Don’t you remember I saw you fucking her and I know she wants you.”

His grip loosens a bit. “I’m sorry, Junior. So damn sorry, I promise you that you’re the only girl in my life.”

The pads of his thumbs begin wiping the tears away, trying to soak up my sadness.

“How would you feel if you came to my house and saw Gannon dry humping my back while I paint?”

“I’d kill the fucker with my bare hands!” he roars.

“Then the difference?” I counter.

“I’m sorry, Bay. Please listen to me.” He brushes his sweet lips along mine. “She disgusts me. Ask anyone here. I’ve threatened her time and time again to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

“I’m sorry.” He brushes his lips against mine, and I can’t help but lean up into him. “Don’t leave. Sit and have a drink then we can go home and have wild sex.”

“If she touches you or even looks at you, I’ll kill her.” I duck under his arms and rub out each of my wrists as I strut towards his seat at the bar. I don’t take his permanent seat but the one next to it. Van’s scent is next to me within seconds.

“She’ll take a glass of red wine, Stew.” Van wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me up into his lap. I don’t refuse his touch but melt into him.

Stew pushes a red plastic cup my direction. It looks, smells, and tastes like red wine. A bit more bitter than I’m used to, but I take a few sips.

“Watch that fucker in the corner, Van.” Stew nods to the back of the joint. “He’s pissed I’m not selling to him anymore and wants to punish Honey.”

I take a longer gulp of the wine, trying to make sense of whatever in the hell just happened. It seems like Van and I are only sheltered when in private and not in the scrutiny of the world.

“Sell what?” I whisper into Van’s ear.

“Meth.”

“Stew sells…” I trail off reading Van’s face and following his nodding head.

Guess it makes sense why he owns the whole damn block.

“So, you just don’t sit here, do you?”

This time he shakes his head the opposite way.

“You sell for him?” I murmur into his ear.

“No, Junior.”

“Then?”

“I collect and protect for him.”

“Why?”

“He’s the closest to a father I’ve ever had and I’d do anything for the man.”

“You’d let Honey dry hump your back.”

The words barely float out of my mouth and into his ear. It pains me to say them, but then again it’s just loyal Van protecting his own.

“I love you, Junior.” His fingers wrap around the back of my neck, tugging my ear closer to his lips. “It’s you I finally let in. And that’s the end of this shit.”

I can only nod and know in this moment I have to believe and trust him with everything I have. His life is a mystery and his job even more of a cluster fuck, but one thing is for sure, I’m his.

He lets me go from his grip but not his lap and slams the remainder of his drink. I jump on the opportunity to wrap my arm around his neck and melt into him while finishing off my wine. Eventually, he passes my empty cup back to Stew. I sit in his arms and drink my second glass.

“I just missed you and knew the scary biker dude was following for protection.”

“Huh?” Van cranes his neck as far as he can to make eye contact with me.

“That’s why I showed up.” I swing my outer leg up and over his lap until I’m straddling him and nose to nose with him. “I needed you on my skin.”

“Really?” That damn dark eyebrow shoots up and his tongue darts out taking a swipe up my neck.

“Mmmmmm. You’ve turned me into a needy tramp.”

“Good, Bay, good.” Each of his hands tightens around my ass.

“Van Hollis.” A deep voice booms into the bar. We both turn around to see Z making his way over to us. I don’t miss the way Van tenses up at the sight of him and snarls under his breath.

Z is bigger than I remember, towering above us in our huddled position. He’s flanked by two men of the same stature.

“Gotta job for you,” he comments.

“No fights,” Van replies. He pulls me in closer, trying to shield me from the conversation if at all possible.

“It’s a run and needs to happen in the hour.”

“Fuck, Z, you know I’m working right now.”

“Yeah, looks like your hands are really full, you fuckface.” Z turns to Stew and holds up five fingers. Stew slides five shots across the bar before I even have time to blink. Z hands each of his men one while he shoots three of them and then asks for the rest of the bottle.

“Can it wait until midnight?” Van finally asks.

“You aren’t very good at math, are you? It’s 7:50 and it needs to happen within the fucking hour.”

“Leave one of your men to help keep the peace here and you can have Van,” Stew offers.

“Deal,” Z says, finishing off the bottle of straight alcohol. “Turn your club phone on, Van, and be ready to roll.”

Z doesn’t give Van anytime to protest before he’s exiting the club, snagging a few women along the way. The eager tramps are damn near giddy with excitement.

“Why can’t one of his men do this?” I probe, watching one of Z’s men pull a whore into his side and grope her titties as they exit into the alley.

“He doesn’t want any sign of his club involved.”

“Is this dangerous?”

Van ignores me, staring towards the door where the men just left. I pry his face to force him to look at me. “Is this dangerous, Van?”

He only nods his head up and down.

“Don’t go.”

“I have to, babe. I’ll be fine. It will be more dangerous if I let Z down. He has my six.”

Van stands in one quick motion, placing me on the floor. The whole ambrosia of sexiness and love evaporate into thin air. Van clutches my hand in silence while we walk home. There’s no biker tailing us. It’s just the two of us in the dark night air.

“What happens to me if something happens to you?” I drill him when we both stop at a corner waiting for cars to pass.

“You go on and live.”

“Have you missed the memo that I love you?”

His jaw tightens and eyes light on fire. “It’s a vortex, Bay, this place is a fucking vortex.”

“You can’t leave me, Van.” I squeeze his hand tighter.

“Junior, that’s the thing about life … everything changes. It will either be the streets that take me down or being set up again.”

Traffic clears and we walk in silence. His words bounce around in my head, ricocheting like stray bullets rattling around, making no sense. Van Hollis has been shaped to be the loser in life. He doesn’t see it any other way and really how could he.

He slams the door behind us, kicking the junky old radio across this floor. This time it shatters into pieces and even dents the sheetrock.

“Fuck!” he roars, throwing his hands through his hair and sending his boot through the wall.

“Van.” I place my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s run away together. You and me, load up the car and leave tonight.”

“I can’t, Bay, this fucking place has me held prisoner.”

Intertwining my arms around his torso, I lay my head on his back, holding on as tight as possible. “What are you scared of, Van?”

“Going back to prison.”

“But you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s been the way my whole life has been.”

“Let’s run.” I beg again digging my nails into his chest through his thin shirt.

“You’d go with me?”

“Always.”

Van slowly turns around in my arms and cups my face. Tears are hiding in his deep blue eyes. He bends over, cloaked in silence, planting one tender kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Pack your bags, Junior.”

I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Want me to get your stuff?”

He shakes his head side to side, letting his hair sweep down into his eyes. “I only need you.”

“We’ll run far away, Van. Start a new life and you’ll live out your dreams with no ghosts lingering around to haunt you.” Rising up on my tiptoes, I savor the taste of his lips.

“Don’t answer the door and stay in here with this phone.” He hands me another phone I’ve never seen before.

“Speed dial one is me.”

The phone flies from my hand when I leap up into his arms. He catches me like he always does with his strong hands holding me to him. My hands clutch his hair while my mouth attacks his.

“Take me one time before you go.”

The phone Z handed to him goes off in his back pocket, but he ignores it and walks me over to the couch. Van gently lays me down, then rips off his pants while I wiggle out of my capris. He’s gentle when he covers my body with his. I reach down and feel his hard shaft ready to enter me. I stroke it a few times while leaning upwards and tasting his lips.

“I love you, Van.”

I urge his tip into me and then let him do the rest of the work while I clasp my hands around the back of his neck.

“I don’t remember what it felt like to be loved.”

“I promise you’ll never forget.” I assure him.

23

I
’ve never been so shattered
and put together at the same time. It’s like hundreds of tiny pieces of paper flew out the window of a speeding car and free floated to the ground and felt at peace. Van’s been gone for twenty minutes, and I still feel him on me, smell him, and share his pain.

I’ll call my mom on the road. She’ll understand and more than likely be ecstatic for us to travel. He needs a new place where he won’t be judged or have the fear of being set up. Van also deserves a fair shot at being him with a job he wants, not one he thinks he’s only worthy of.

He never deserves to run into his evil brother again or even be reminded of the fucker. Van Hollis deserves so much more than was ever offered to him, and I intend to see that it happens.

Looking around the apartment, there’s not much I’m worried about taking. All my art supplies fit nicely in a tote, and I just have clothes to stuff in a duffle bag. I’ll miss the auction, but that’s minor to leaving with Van. There are art studios all over the world. I need to be whole with him wherever that may be.

My only duffle bag barely zips and is overflowing with clothes with a pile of clothes still scattered around the floor. I’m not one for waste and spot a black bag in the corner of the closet, but before I have the chance to grab it, my phone goes off in the living room halfway spooking the shit out of me.
That must be Van’s bag
I think to myself while jogging to the phone.

It’s my personal phone and Ivy’s ringtone. I answer knowing it may be one of the last times I talk to her.

“Hello.”

“Shit, Bay, you just run a marathon?” Her laughter is light and makes me smile.

“No, was just cleaning my closet.” Which I convince myself isn’t a boldface lie.

“Hey, Gannon and I are in the neighborhood.”

Bullshit
I think to myself.

“And we’d like to stop by and see you. We have a small gift for you.”

“Um, okay sure,” I reply. “I have about an hour before Van’s picking me up for a date.”

Another half-life but will get the job done. A hug goodbye to my best friend will be good for my soul. But seeing Gannon will suck badly. I can’t even begin to process that whole shit show again without feeling ill.

“We’ll be there in about five minutes.”

“Okay.” I click the phone and dash back into the room praying Van’s job takes him the whole damn time or someone will die tonight and that someone will be Gannon.

I grab the black bag and toss it on my bed. It takes only a few overflowing armful of clothes from the floor before everything is gathered on the bed. Even some of Van’s jeans and hoodies mingle in with my clothes.

Bringing one of his black hoodies to my nose, I inhale the musky smoke smell of him and audibly groan out loud. He’s my beginning and end. Never in a million years would I think I’d be a hopeless romantic, with the Big Bad Wolf nonetheless.

I keep the hoodie pressed to my nose with one hand while unzipping the large dark bag. My blood instantly runs cold even with the overwhelming scent of Van comforting me. I try to blink but can’t. Try to scream but can’t force a sound. The blue bracelet stares back at me in the empty bag.

My fingers begin to tremble out of control as my vision blurs in and out. Memories of the mutilated body dance in my mind. It’s her bracelet, and it’s in my house.

“No, no, no, no.” I shake my head side to side while my voice grows into a scream.

A knife blade coated in blood with a strand of dark curly hair lies to the side of it in the bag. It looks identical to my hair. It can’t be.

I can’t even believe my own thoughts.

A loud thumping on the door rattles my entire apartment but doesn’t break my stare on the fucking bracelet. Van has the bracelet and a bloody knife in my closet. I wipe away the few stray tears running down my pale cheeks and force my feet to move.

I slam the bedroom door behind me before opening the front door. Ivy pushes open my front door before I have the chance to fully open it and greet her. She’s followed by Gannon, who walks in sheepishly with his hands tucked into the front of his jeans.

“Bay, you alright?” Ivy asks.

I nod my head.

“You look like you just saw a dead body.”

I try to force a word out but everything catches in my throat, so I finally nod for them to sit on the couch and sprint off for a bottle of wine. I fill the largest cup we have with the red liquid and drink it at record pace waiting for my head to go fuzzy, but it never does.

“Drink, guys?” I ask, peeking around the corner.

“No thanks, we just ate,” Ivy replies.

In an odd fucking sense, I crave to hear the deep sexy voice of Gannon. The motherfucker who I should’ve dated instead of Van. Bet there wouldn’t be a murder weapon or evidence in my apartment with him. My gut screams that it isn’t Van’s, but how in the hell? Thoughts swim around in mind, causing all common sense to drown and fade away. I’m scared.

“Come have a seat, Bay.” Ivy pats the couch next to her.

My knees knock with each step towards them. Ivy grabs my hand tugging me to sit down. When seated Gannon pulls a little black box from his coat.

“Bay, we’d like you to be our child’s godmother.” He passes me the black velvet box. “We are going to find out the sex of the baby in a week and half, and we want you there if you’d like.”

I look up to Ivy, who has tears streaming down her face. “I need you by my side through all of this. Please.”

Gannon wraps an arm around her shoulder, causing me to see red for a moment until Ivy sniffles, and I see my scared childhood best friend who is practically my sister.

I hold her hand, gripping it tight. “Of course, I will be. I’ll be there for you, Ivy, through it all. I love you.”

I don’t mention me leaving or am I leaving? Is Van coming home to kill me? Is he being set up? Or is he the mastermind behind all of it? It was my imagination, right?

“I’ll be right back.” I stand before Ivy can say anything else or has the chance to hug and thank me. I rush into my room to make sure I’m not going crazy. Once in there and with the door shut, I peek into the bag and the blue bracelet remains staring back at me with its own story to tell.

Before I have the chance to think or move, a loud commotion ensues in the living room. The sound of the door busting down. Ivy screaming. Instinctively I grab the blue bracelet, slicing my finger on the blade in the bottom of the bag as I do. Pools of blood drain from the tip of it with a flap of skin hanging from the tip.

I look through the cracked bedroom door to see Van beating the shit out of Gannon. I try to scream but freeze when I see Ivy’s body lying in a pool of blood at his feet. Her gorgeous bright blonde hair stained red. Bubbles of blood gurgle up from the slash in her throat. Her hands cover her belly while she fights for her last breath of air.

Van throws Gannon up against a wall, shoving a knife into his stomach.

“How do you like this fucker?” Venom drips from his voice, and he spits into Gannon’s face. The blade retracts and goes back into Gannon over and over.

“Before you’re completely dead I’m going to have some fun with you.”

A mewled cry comes from Gannon. He fights to look to the floor where Ivy lays.

“Where is she?” Van demands. “Can’t answer, tough guy?”

He pulls down Gannon’s pants and violently shoves him over the table with his ass bared while pulling his own hardened cock from his pants. I cover my mouth with both of my hands to mask the scream needing to escape. His black hoodie and jeans keep their back to me as he enters Gannon. He looks back to Ivy’s dead body on the ground, and that’s when I see him. It’s Argo.

I scramble to the closet with shaky fingers searching through the mounds of clothes to find the burner phone to call Van.

Think, Bay, fucking think, Bay.
I climb into the closet with the phone barely clutched in my shaking hand. I need to call the cops, but he’s the fucking cops. I press one and let it ring with no answer. Press it again and again with no answer. I text the number over and over. The phone finally vibrates in my hand, flipping it open, I try to talk and ignore Argo’s grunts and Gannon’s cries of pain.

“Bay, is that you?”

“V-v-v-v-v-vaaan.”

“Bay,” he screams.

“He’s here.”

“Who? Baby, I can’t hear you.” Loud music and cheers stream in the background. “I’m at the MC just getting ready to come home.”

“He’s going to kill me.” My voice finally works, streaming out in a scream.

The closet doors fly off the hinges with Argo hovering above me.

“You found the gift I left you for you.” He sneers. Blood speckles cover his face. I watch in a trance as he runs his tongue over his bottom-cracked lip.

I drop the cell phone to my side, leaving it open and hoping like fucking hell Van can hear me.

“I thought you’d look perfect in that blue bracelet with your olive skin and dark bouncing curls.” He kneels down next to me dressed just like Van. Upon closer inspection, the clothes are too perfect, smell sterile, and he has no scars. The tone of their voices being damn near identical sends chills up my spine.

“I saw this pretty little girl wearing it one night and thought it would be the perfect gift for Van’s new girlfriend, so I got it. Thought it would be the perfect welcome to the family gift.”

The carpet crunches underneath his knees as he kneels next to me.

“I should correct myself and say only girlfriend.” Argo uses his pointer finger to raise my chin up to face him. “Thought it would be the brotherly thing to do.”

“Please leave my house.” I try to sound as confident as possible but fail.

“Figured it was time for you to meet the family, dear.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Now, don’t be rude. I even brought you a gift.”

“Van is on his way.”

“Perfect, then everything is set up to a T.” Argo rises to a standing position clutching a fistful of my hair forcing me to stand. “It’s time you met our daddy.”

“Van,” I scream and begin to kick. “He’s taking me to your dad.”

I catch a glimpse of the phone out of the corner of my eye and see it’s still connected.

“You dirty little bitch!” Argo screams, throwing me into the wall.

The back of my head collides with it. My teeth sinking down into my tongue with the last vision of Argo facing me and me wondering how in the hell the two look so fucking identical but can be so far apart from the same person.

D
im lights flicker
above my head. Water dripping from a nearby pipe. Muffled voices. A chilly breeze skimming over my bare skin. With enough strength, I lift my head and see Argo sitting with an older man who is identical to him in looks and then down to my naked body.

My hands are strapped above my head with my ankles attached to a table, with my legs spread apart.

“She really is beautiful. I can see how my son fell in love with her,” the older man perched in a recliner says between puffs of his expensive smelling cigar. He looks like Van and now the smell of cigar is another similarity that my brain cannot comprehend.

“I’m so ready for her dad,” Argo moans out, stroking his cock through his jeans.

“This has to end, Argo. Do you hear me?” The older man slams his hand down on the table between them, sending their glasses shattering to the cement floor.

“I promise,” Argo answers, never breaking eye contact with me.

Both the men seem to notice me fidgeting at the same time. Argo stands to his feet, unbuttoning his jeans and his dad pushes him back down into his seat.

“Listen, Argo. I let you bring Van down here and let all the jocks have their way with him just for you. Do you think I enjoyed hearing his screams?” The man looks back at me with his piercing blue eyes. “He saw me
that
night and I could never let him get strong enough to tell the truth ever. I beat him down, let you beat him down, but this has to end. No more, Argo. He’ll go to prison tonight for the rest of his life because of the DNA you planted at the crime scene tonight. This will be the end and her body will disappear.”

“Mom,” Argo utters with recognition flickering in his eyes.

“Yes, he saw me with your mother that night in the hot tub. She pissed me off and it went further than it should have. She died with my hands on the back of her head.”

“I promise, Dad. Promise this is the last. I’ll go back to work and find a girl and get married.”

“I’ve created a fucking monster.” The man steps back and runs his hands through his thick silver hair with a pained expression covering his face, and I swear I can see a flash of regret play out in his piercing blue eyes. He’s an older version of Van Hollis from head to toe. The eerie resemblance causes bile to sting the back of my throat. The story I just heard forces it up. Puke rolls down the front of me streaming with no hopes of it stopping.

“It’s all gone too far. Both of you boys have my temper, and it got the best of me. I knew Van was too much like his mother. He would do the right thing and go to the police and turn me in. I had to beat him down but Argo.” He pauses, shoving Argo back down into his seat. I hear Argo’s sternum crack with the hard throttle from his dad. “You’re more than evil, and it’s all my fault.” He punches the wall, sending sheetrock in every single direction.

“Dad, I’ll be done after this. Van needs to disappear then I’ll settle down. He’ll get life for double homicide.”

Van’s dad gives me a sympathetic look before talking again. “Fuck her, kill her, and make her disappear. End of story.”

Argo rises from the chair dropping his pants in one fell swoop. The clank of the metal button hitting the floor echoes around the room.

“He’ll kill both of you,” I scream. “Van deserves so much more than you two.”

His dad closes the space between us in just a few long strides, raises his arm, and sends a punishing slap my way. My skin stings, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the pain swirling around my inside.

“You two are the devil and worthless!” I scream.

This time he grabs a chunk of my hair, ripping it to the side. “Listen here, you little bitch, you remind me of my wife always sticking up for him and coddling him. Guess you deserve the same ending as her. Maybe we should go for a dip in the hot tub after Argo fucks every single hole you have.”

BOOK: The Hunted
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