Epilogue

Mace


Fucking stupid piece of crap.

I threw the spanner across the floor, pissed. Newspapers spread all around me, I was sure if Leeta knew I was fixing my bike inside she’d have a fit.

I jumped up as the front door opened, Leets voice ringing through the unit. Oh hell no. She walked into the kitchen and stopped, her mouth falling open as she took in the greasy mess.

“I promise I’ll clean it,” I began, “It’s just it was raining outside and I have no idea what is wrong with the fucking thing.” Instead of the yelling and screaming I’d been expecting, she simply laughed and shook her head. I smiled. This was yet another reminder as to why I was planning on marrying this chick.

That’s if she says yes. Yep, I hadn’t asked her. Soon. I wanted the timing to be perfect.

“Yeah, I thought you were supposed to be the Gandhi of the bikes,” she teased. I glared at her. Not helpful right now. “Anyway, don’t you have to pick up Cash in like twenty minutes?”

Fuck. I had completely forgotten. Today was his release date and I had totally forgotten. What an asshole. Leet sighed, pushing me toward the bathroom, hitting me on the ass.

“Go, I’ll clean this mess up.”

“Are you sure?” I said, stripping my clothes off and jumping under the shower.

“Well you can’t leave him waiting there. You’re supposed to be helping him out so he doesn’t just wind up back inside after a week, or a month.”

I didn’t reply.

No amount of help was going to keep Cash out of jail. I already knew that. You can’t wipe out fifteen years of crime without a shitload of effort and hard work. Two things my brother wasn’t capable of.

But, Leet loved that I was playing the good brother by helping Cash get back on his feet so I wasn’t about to burst her bubble.

Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t want him to end up back in prison, or worse, dead. I just knew the odds of him getting mixed up in his old life ware pretty damn high.

#

Kissing Leet goodbye, I took off in her car toward the prison. We’d kept the lease going on my place, which Leet had insisted on paying for the next three months, so he had somewhere to stay, and if he wanted to work, I was more than happy to give him a job. Not that I expected him to show.

I knew the routine pretty well now. This was Cash’s third stint in prison, and every release he was going to change. He was going to do better. Work hard. Stay out of trouble. But things always ended up back where they started. Why would this time be any different? I loved my brother, but there was only so much of his bullshit I could take.

Cash

Un-fucking-believable. Was it too much to ask that he pick me up on time? This wasn’t a fucking dentist appointment. It was only his brother getting out of prison after three years away. You’d think that would be reason enough to make an effort, but apparently not.

I kicked my backpack along the ground, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

I’ll tell you what though; it was fucking awesome to be out of that place. The air smelled different on this side of the fences. Fresher. I walked up and down the small carpark, waiting, thinking about what my next move was.

Mace was so hell bent on fixing me that it was a joke. I was like his little girlfriends pet project, and Mace followed right along with her. Like the number of times I’d let him down in the past meant fuck all.

The thing was, this was how my life went, and I’d accepted that. I’d play hard, get caught, do the time and let the cycle start all over again. Did I like it? Didn’t matter. It was never going to change, no matter how many houses, jobs and courses they lined up for me.


I caught sight of a Toyota Corolla spinning into the parking lot. I could make out Mace behind the wheel. He screeched to a stop, dust flying everywhere.

“Fuck I’m sorry, man. I lost track of the time,” he muttered, walking around to meet me. He stuck his hand out, the gesture awkward at best. I chuckled and shook it.

Yeah. We definitely weren’t close, Mace and I. That was probably not helped by my making his life a living hell as a kid. All he ever wanted to do was follow me around and fix those damn bikes. I made it my mission to make every day a nightmare for that kid. Beatings, verbal abuse…you name it, I did it. The only thing we’d had in common was protecting our sister.

And then she was gone.

“It’s cool.” I threw away my butt and grabbed my bag, loading it into the back of the car. “Lets get the fuck out of here.”

#

“So, any plans now your out?” Mace asked, trying to fill the silence that had lasted since we’d left the prison.

“The first thing I’m going to do is drink a few beers. What do ya say, bro?”

“Sure,” he replied with a sigh. Like spending time with me was a chore. “Leet will meet us later for dinner, so until then, I’m yours.”

“Okay then,” I grinned, “Diamonds it is.”

Mace groaned and shook his head. Diamonds was a strip club where most of the dancers were known for having rather loose morals. Slip them a twenty and it would buy you almost anything.

“Cash,” he paused, as if rethinking what he wanted to say. “Will this time be any different? Do you actually want to keep out of prison, or is this all one big game to you? If I’m wasting my time, let me know.”

I laughed. He had some balls, asking me that. Did I want to change? Of course I did. I’d never tell him, but I was jealous as fuck of Mace. He had everything I wanted. But I was smart enough to know that I’d fucked my life up a long time ago, and nothing short of a miracle was going to change the track I was on.

“Dude, I’m a criminal. Take after me old man. It’s gonna take more than you and that sweet little girl of yours to change that, okay?”

I sighed, feeling bad for shitting all over his attempt at helping me.

“Look, I appreciate what your trying to do, but I think I’m beyond help. Just drop me off at Diamonds and go home to Leeta.”


He pulled into the parking lot of Diamonds, and waited as I climbed out.

“Wait,” he said, pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t want your money, dude.” I shook my head.

“Yeah? Then how do you plan on getting home? Or paying for the blowjob you’re obviously here for?” he challenged. I laughed and reached over, snatching the fifty from his grasp.

“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.

“Are you fucking mute, you little cunt?”

My body jerks. I hate that word, it’s so…vulgar. I let my eyes move to the four other guys standing like protective pack animals around Marcel. I don’t know their names; they’re not significant enough. The tall boy with orange hair looks nervous, like he knows what’s about to happen could put him in a world of trouble - but he’s still here, still making the choice to stay. The other two guys are stony faced, and fully aware of their part in this attack.

I still don’t answer him. If I just let them beat me, it’ll go away quicker.

“You’re a freak, Will, do you know that?” Marcel hisses, leaning in closer.

Of course I know that. I wouldn’t be pinned against a fence if I didn’t know that.

Bullies are so dumb.

Marcel raises his fist, and brings it down over my face, cracking my nose so hard blood spurts onto his shirt. I don’t cry out, because that’s what he wants, but the pain radiating through my head is nearly enough to make me beg. Nearly. Marcel takes hold of my shirt, and his grey eyes scan my face. He’s panting, as though I’ve shoved him into an alley and challenged him. Like this is my fault. The world is twisted like that, and it’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way.

“You know,” he growls, locking eyes with me. “I heard my girl saying how handsome you were the other day. Do you know how much it sucks to have my girl saying that a freak is handsome? Especially a freak that’s only what? Thirteen years old? Your dick would be no bigger than a tube of damned lipstick, yet she thinks you’re handsome!”

I wouldn’t know how much it sucks to have a girl say that, because I don’t have a girl.

Again, bullies are dumb.

“Don’t answer me, you little twerp. It doesn’t matter. I will make sure by the time you leave this alley; you’re not handsome anymore. I won’t have my competition being some little weasel that can’t even speak.”

I taste blood filling my mouth, and my nose is pounding so heavily I’m almost sure I can hear my own heart in my head. I don’t take my eyes from Marcel. They say look danger right in the eye; it gives you power and strength. I don’t feel powerful right now, in fact, I don’t really feel anything. Someone like me doesn’t fight, I’m the underdog, and underdogs are weak. Everyone knows it.

Marcel reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a little vile of something, I don’t know what. The heart that feels like it’s in my head begins thumping even harder. I try not to show fear, I try to stand tall and take what he dishes out with strength, but that’s not so easy when your attacker is as crazy as mine.

“She said it was your eyes,” he begins, lazily tracing circles on his palm with the vile. “She said they’re the most stunning eyes she’s ever seen. Like the ocean.”

I didn’t know my eyes were like the ocean.

He takes hold of my shirt, yanking me close. “No one is more appealing to my girl, than me.”

They say bad things happen in slow motion, they’re right. I feel Marcel throw me down onto the floor. I feel every movement as my body slammed into the dirt. I feel his body weight coming over me, his knees pinning me down as I squirm. I feel his friend take my arms, pulling them above my head, while another puts a hand over my mouth. With my nose pouring with blood, that makes it difficult to breathe.

I someone digging his fingers into the sides of my head, holding it still as Marcel unscrews the little vile of liquid in his hand. He reaches down, shoving his fingers into my eye, causing it to water and burn. I scream and twist, trying to get away. He punches me again, causing me to begin spinning out – blood fills my mouth. Then he holds my eye open and he tips the liquid into it. My screams intensify as what feels like liquid fire sinks into my eye.

It feels like it’s on fire.

Oh god it hurts. It hurts so badly.

The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Words cannot begin to explain the horror I feel as darkness begins to invade my body. I feel the liquid sliding down the side of my face to my ear, burning everything as it goes. I try to free my hands, I need to wipe it off, God it hurts, someone please get it off. I can’t get my hands out, though, they’re holding me down. So I do the only thing I can in my last moment of sheer desperation, I turn my head and I bite the hand closest to me, drawing blood.

I don’t know what they’re saying, or even acknowledge the moment when they run away. All I know was that I am bleeding heavily in an alley and my eye is being burned with a lethal chemical. Red fills my vision as the blood begins to cover every part of my face. I know I’m still screaming, even though I can’t hear it. All I can hear is an excessive ringing in my ears. I can’t even move my hands to cover my eye, in an attempt to protect the burning orb. I can do nothing but lay and scream, witnessing a pain that I’ll never witness again in my life, and wondering what I did to deserve it.

No one deserves to die.

But I do die that day.

And in my place, a monster is born.

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Climax, by Sexxa Kohl. Available now on all major online retailors.


Synopsis:


If asked what I thought I would be doing at twenty-two, it certainly wouldn’t be taking my clothes off for complete strangers. The world looks at me as both a whore and a worthless piece of trash, even though I only work here to pay for my mother’s medical bills. No one would believe that I am still a virgin, waiting to find love. I can easily say that I don’t think love is ever going to be finding me here at Club Climax.

As I stare out over the crowd, I give them what they want. For the next three and a half minutes of this song, I dance, undress, shake my ass, and slide up and down the metal pole in front of me. I control everything I do while I am up here on this stage. That is how it works at this place; I make the rules. That is, of course, except the room in the far back known as Ultimate Climax. All power is surrendered and lost there. I have promised myself that I will never go back there, no matter how desperate I get. The price is too high for me; I refuse to sell myself to the highest bidder. I cannot afford to lose the only thing I have left. My control.

There comes a time when we have to do the things that we said we would never do. For me, that day has finally arrived.

As I grab the handle of the door, I pause to take a deep breath. Once I walk through that door, my whole life will forever change. I will give up everything, and I pray that when I leave, I will have something left of myself.


Excerpt:


Needing to kick it up a notch, I turn around, lean back against the pole, and shimmy down to the floor. Once I am on my knees, I crawl down the center of the stage where no one can reach or touch me. With each slow movement, my tits bounce up and down but remain tightly shoved and restrained in my corset. Near the edge of the stage, I shake my ass and my chest before sitting upright and lifting my long hair up above my head. Green bills fly around me as I spread my legs open and lean back onto the cold floor.

I fucking swear that if I hear, “Yeah, Baby,” one more time, I am going to kill someone!

I stand and strut over to the pole. This part is what I hate and dread the most, the part where I give them everything I have. With my back to the crowd, I turn and arch my back against the pole while I unfasten the clasp in the front. With one forceful tug, I am free and thoroughly exposed. I drop the black corset on the floor and cover my breasts with my arm. The crowd goes wild as I prepare for my finale. Bass pumps in the speakers as loudly as my heart does in my chest.

You can do this, Blaire. You have to.

I wait for the perfect moment in the song, and then I spin around and drop my hand, baring everything to them. Green bills fly everywhere when I jump up to grab hold of the pole. I grind my crotch against the metal seductively as I climb high above the audience. I hold on tightly while I extend my legs out in a spread eagle position. Dirty, raunchy comments reach my ears even from all the way up here. Leaning backwards, I maneuver myself upside down and perform the crowd’s favorite death drop. Every time I do this, it scares the shit out of me. I have learned the move by watching a lot of videos on pole dancing and visiting other clubs in my spare time. No one else here at Club Climax does it.

I flip my body over and touch my heels to the stage to stand. With perfect timing, the music ends just as I place my hands on my hips. The crowd is standing and continues to throw money at me while the announcer’s voice echoes throughout the club’s PA system.

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR OUR BABY GIRL … R-A-V-E-N!”

I reach down and scoop up my money while the bouncers guard the stage around me. Normally, I would never dare a glimpse out at anyone in the room, but tonight, for some unknown reason, I am drawn to do so.

I can’t explain it. It is a feeling of need and desire mixed with an electrical wave of energy. Like a magnet, his glare immediately pulls me to him. I hold the money against my chest and can’t move. My chest hurts as if the breath has just been sucked out of me. Honey is grinding her ass into his lap while he tightly grips her hips, but his eyes are firmly glued to mine. Regardless of his devastatingly handsome face, the fact he is here in this club tells me everything I need to know. Men like him are nothing but trouble; they use girls like Honey and me as if we are disposable garbage.

His heated eyes seductively travel down my body to my legs and then back up to my eyes. Fucking hell, how does he do that to me with just those dark eyes? Feeling the heat rise to my face, I break our intense stare and look down at the steps to exit the stage. Daring one last look into his dark blazing eyes, I discover something I don’t want to know about myself. I like the lustful way he looks at me. That’s too dangerous; it can bring nothing but more trouble and heartbreak into my already troubled and broken life.

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