Wrench (The Club Girl Diaries Book 6) Page 7

  Deanwell was a local prosecution lawyer that had made a huge name for himself. One of the court cases that had made him a household name was fucking mine. He’d put me and other brother’s away on more occasions than I could fucking count. His anti-MC approach had really gotten him to high places over the past few years, not just within Alabama but all across the country, where he went to lecture about our way of life and our criminal enterprises. To say he was a thorn in my fucking ass would be an understatement because I’d dug around on him on more than one occasion and the man was fucking squeaky clean. He was a goody two-shoes, out to make the world a better place. And that made me even more fucking angry.

  Sugar climbed out of her car, shopping bag in hand, and completely ignoring me as we both walked toward the main entrance. Optimus had me buried deep in shit up to my elbows for the past week. At first, it was all about trying to find information on Chelsea’s family, then searching through document after document attempting to find anything that could connect the thousands of dots to try and explain why the mafia was so up our ass. Even now, after everything was said and done and it seemed like the storm was over, I was still running on empty and my fuse was fucking short.

  “Goddamn it,” I cursed, grabbing Sugar’s arm and pulling her into the first empty room I spotted and closing the door behind us. I took the bag from her hand and dropped it on the floor before using my body to back her against the wall.

  “What are you—”

  “I’m sorry, all right,” I growled, dipping my head and pressing my forehead against hers. “Deanwell and I have… history. Seeing him touch you, seeing him make you smile, just wasn’t fucking fun for me. Okay?”

  Her eyes fluttered closed and she took in a deep breath. “It’s not like we’re best friends. He used to… he was close with my family. That’s all.”

  I lifted my hand, settling it on the side of her face and cupping her jaw. “I know I’ve been a little absent.”

  “Wrench, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain. I know how it works,” she said softly, the tone of her voice seeming completely genuine. “The club needed you, and you helped find Chelsea, helped to save her. That was the most important thing. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered before lowering my mouth onto hers and claiming her lips for myself. I was a greedy, selfish fucking bastard. Here I was in the hospital, supporting my president as he went through one of the toughest times in his life, but yet, I was in some fucking hospital room, making out with his daughter’s mother.

  Jesus Christ, I was going to hell.

  Sugar’s arms hooked around my neck and she pulled me in, sliding her body up against mine, her perfect fucking breasts pressed against my chest, teasing and testing me.

  Sugar got it, she understood. The club was part of my life. Fuck! It was my life. And she wasn’t complaining about it or taking my attention away, she wasn’t bitching about how I’d ignored her for the most part of four or five fucking days, after such an intimate moment between us at the swimming hole. No. She would never berate me for putting my brothers first. She may not understand or know everything about the club lifestyle, but she understood how important it was to me. That was all that fucking mattered.

  My tongue trailed along the seam of her lips before I pulled back, my mouth instantly moving to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses across the soft skin. She tugged at my cap, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor before her fingers returned to my hair. They swept through the strands so smoothly, her nails raking at my scalp as I tormented her, sucking and nibbling at her neck.

  “Wrench,” she gasped as one of my hands slipped to her ass, grasping the cheek in my palm and squeezing it roughly through her jeans.

  “What, KitKat?” I murmured, expecting some response about us getting caught.

  Instead, her hands slipped from my hair and trailed down my chest until they reached the button of my jeans. “You had your fun last time, this time it’s my turn.”

  My heart stopped. I swear for a minute I couldn’t move as she pulled from my grasp and sunk to her knees. “Goddamn,” I hissed.

  She made quick work of my jeans, tugging them down, her eyes widening as my hard cock sprung free. Sugar licked her lips, her hand reaching up and her long slim fingers wrapping around my length. I braced my hands against the wall in front of me as she gave a few long strokes, from base to head.

  I felt dizzy, not quite able to comprehend what in the actual fuck was happening. Was Sugar really on her knees before me right now, looking at my dick like she wanted to swallow it whole? Was this really happening, or was I so fucked up over this woman that my brain was creating these fucking impossible scenarios?

  One swipe of her tongue and I was fucking done for, tossing my head back and closing my eyes. Her warm wet mouth wrapped around me and I let out a long, low groan. Her hands gripped my hips, her nails digging into the skin as her head moved, bobbing up and down, each time taking me further inside, deeper than I could have ever imagined.

  Gritting my teeth, I finally risked a look down at the woman who had consumed my thoughts for the past few weeks. Her eyes stared up at me, a soft smirk on her face and her hand fisting my thickness. I slipped my shaking hand into her thick hair, tangling my fingers within the strands and giving it a gentle tug. Her mouth fell open, her eyes bright with excitement as I directed her mouth back to the head of my cock. She stuck her tongue out and flicked her tongue back and forth over it, sending a jolt straight up my spine.

  “Cheeky bitch,” I growled, making her laugh.

  Voices in the hallway had us both looking toward the door, but not moving to cover ourselves. Nope. I didn’t give a shit who walked through that door right now, this wasn’t over yet, and they could just watch the show. They got louder, but soon passed by and began to disappear again down the hall.

  “Better hurry up,” I warned her. My other hand reached down to her breast, and I brushed my hand across it, feeling her nipples hard as stone. “Mmmm,” I moaned, pinching it between my fingers.

  She gasped, and I used the opportunity to direct my aching shaft back into her mouth. Her lips closed around it, and suddenly I had no control as she let loose, sucking harder than I thought humanly possible. My length sliding in and out, her pace quickening.

  The build was quick, our hurry not to be caught mixed with the way her tongue dragged along the underside of my cock was fucking explosive. My head nudged the back of her throat as I pushed my hips forward and she gagged but refused to give up. Her hand went to my balls and that was it, I was a goner.

  “Shit! Gonna come,” I cursed, thinking she would pull back, but she only raised her hand and squeezed me tightly as I exploded into her mouth. She took everything, I gave her, her throat working hard to swallow back my cum.

  My legs shook, and once again I raised my hands, pressing them against the wall at her back. My body shuddered, and a low growl rumbled in my throat. After a few seconds, Sugar slid back up onto her feet, slipping in between my arms. My breathing was heavy, my breath blowing against her loose hair. She giggled, my lazy gaze watching her as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Damn woman,” I murmured. I dropped my hands to her lower back and pulled her forward. My still fucking hard cock slipped between her legs, the texture of her jeans against my sensitive skin almost enough to set me off again.

  “We better get going,” she said with a smile. “Before someone comes looking for us.”

  Brushing her hair back from her face, I took note of the blush that tinted her cheeks, despite her confident attitude. “When did that shy girl from the swimming hole become a damn minx?” It was like seeing the difference between hot and cold.

  She’d been so reserved as I touched her, sinking my fingers inside her pussy. It was like she wanted to escape, to run and hide in shame. Yet, here she was, in a busy hospital, getting on her knees and swallowing back my load like a fucking practiced hooker. B
ut she wasn’t that at all, and I think that was why I found it so fucking hot. Sugar was this classy as fuck, beautiful and strong mother, who took the time to come out of her shell and didn’t make a point of drawing attention to herself. And she wanted me so fucking bad that she was willing to risk us being caught out and thrown out on our asses for public indecency, in order to return the favor I’d given to her days ago.

  For a second, I saw her eyes widen like she was confused or shocked at what she’d just done.

  “Hey,” I murmured, reaching out for her. She stepped back, looking down and shaking her head before lifting it to look at me, the deer in headlights look gone and replaced by a perky smile.

  “Come on,” she laughed, refusing to acknowledge my concern.

  She ducked under my arm and reached for her bag as I grabbed my pants off the ground and tucked my dick back inside, before zipping and buttoning them. When I turned around, she held her shopping bag in one hand and was holding my hat out to me with the other.

  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, causing her to fall against my chest while I took my hat from her other hand and placed it with the cap at my neck.

  “Ready?” she asked with a smile.

  “Because this isn’t gonna be awkward,” I grunted.

  She pulled away and headed for the door, running her fingers through her hair to try and tame it. “No, it won’t be because they don’t know. Only we do.”

  She pulled the door open, not even bothering to look to see whether anyone was coming before strolling out.

  “That’s the problem,” I muttered, shaking my head as I followed after her.

  This woman was everything, and I wanted to be a part of her life, to see where this could go. I’d never wanted to claim a woman before, to keep her as my own. But here I was, choosing now to make that commitment, and picking the one woman who I couldn’t fucking have.

  Optimus was gonna kill me.

  Not even an understatement.

  But I was willing to face the firing squad if it meant possibly having her forever.

  I kissed Harlyn on the forehead as we stood outside the school. “Have a good day, baby girl.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “I’ll try,” she muttered as she walked away.

  In my gut I knew that there was something going on, my usual bright baby had become uncooperative and was finding every damn excuse in the book to not attend the private school we’d enrolled her in. Guilt settled in my stomach as I climbed into my car and started the engine. I didn’t want her to be unhappy. Hell, I’d spent the last six years fighting to do the complete opposite. She’d thrived at her old school, with a large group of friends and supportive teachers. It was a definite contrast to how she was feeling right now, and I hated that I’d pushed that on her.

  It was even harder for me to explain why.

  Almost impossible actually.

  I just wanted the best for her, I wasn’t sure why people couldn’t understand that.

  I drove back to our new house. We were still unpacking, but Optimus had managed to get all our things sent from our old place to Athens pretty quickly for which I was grateful. It was slowly starting to feel more and more like home, a comfort I was desperately seeking. I needed normalcy, structure, but at the moment it just seemed like one mess after another.

  As I pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, my cell phone beeped. I picked it up and opened the message with a smile on my face, expecting it to be from Wrench. He was coming over this morning to help me unpack and arrange my furniture. Wrench was becoming a welcome fixture in my life. There was something about him, something I couldn’t even explain, that made me feel just… happy.

  As I opened my phone, I instantly noticed that the message I’d received was from an unknown number. My hand started to shake as I pressed to open it. For a brief moment, I was relieved when a blank message came up.

  Maybe it was a mistake, an accident.

  Then I heard a voice, a voice I hadn’t heard in a long time, one that haunted my memories and infected my dreams.

  It was my voice.

  “Please, I need it.”

  Tears sprung to my eyes as I listened to what seemed like a dream, a horrible fucking nightmare. It was my voice but it was distorted, affected by months and months of abuse.

  “I can’t take the noise. Please, Peter.”

  “It’s okay, Annabelle. I’ve got what you need,” Peter vowed, his tone gentle and comforting.

  A light relieved sigh followed and I knew in that moment, that he’d placed the pill in my hand, and that I knew everything would be okay.

  The noise would stop.

  That was where the recording ended.

  But my heart, it continued to thud against my chest. My skin burned, I felt dirty, itchy. The air around me felt like it was heating up, burning at my skin as I held the phone in my shaking hand.

  No, that’s not me.

  I scrambled for my bag and reached for the door handle, the soft breeze that hit me as I threw myself out of the blazing car felt like complete bliss. I inhaled deeply, but the fresh air did nothing to soothe the wave of nausea that swept over me. Slamming the car door, I ran for the house, tripping on the stairs and falling forward. I fought to get to my feet, needing to get inside the house, images of him swirling inside my brain, memories that I’d squashed fighting through with a vengeance.

  Finally managing to get through my front door, I slammed it behind me causing the glass panels to break. I waited for the smash but it never came. At that moment, I couldn’t care less whether I broke every damn panel in this house, there was only one thing I was searching for and it was hidden in my bedside table.

  You don’t need it.

  Fight back!

  The voice in the back of my head screamed at me, demanding that I stop and take a breath. But I was struggling to breathe as it was, I couldn’t take a breath when my throat was slowly closing, cutting off the essential life source.

  I threw myself to my knees next to the bed, tears streaking down my cheeks. My body was shutting down, the darkness was coming and my limbs felt like heavy weights. I couldn’t reach for the drawer, I couldn’t move at all. The walls of the room started to close in on me. I knew that I should run for the door, but my brain couldn’t figure out how to get my body onto its feet. I tossed my head from side to side, the buzzing sound in my ears becoming louder. It was like the television when that grainy screen came on, my brain was a mess of dark fuzzy colors and noise.

  I threw my head back, beating it against the bed, trying to shake the buzzing, just for a moment so I could reach for my pills.

  One. I just needed one.

  The space was becoming smaller, squeezing me, constricting my breathing.

  “Sugar?”

  His voice hit me in the chest, and suddenly I inhaled a deep breath.

  Wrench.

  I looked up, seeing him standing in the doorway. Even through the blur of my tears, I could tell his face was full of concern. With each step he took toward me, the weight on my body lifted, and I sucked in another soothing breath.

  “Hey…” he whispered softly. “What’s going on?” His gaze moved down to my legs, his eyes widening. I looked down, there was a large graze up the front of my shin, blood trailing down in droplets onto the floor.

  He rushed forward, the movement too fast. I screamed, pulling my knees to my chest and turning my head away, waiting for the touch that would burn my skin. But it never came.

  Peeking out the corner of my eye, I watched as he kneeled down beside me, his movements now slow and deliberate. My breathing was rapid but shallow, my heart feeling like at any moment it could explode from my chest and coat the room in my blood. I swallowed back the bile that formed in my throat.

  He held up his hands, showing me he wasn’t going to touch me. “I just need to know what happened. I want to help.”

  “You can’t,” I rasped. “Just don’t touch me.”

  He
nodded, but I could tell he was struggling to hold back, his brows pinched together in fear and his eyes scanning the room as though he was expecting a monster to jump out at any moment.

  What he didn’t realize, was that the monster was sitting in front of him.

  The colors of the room were fading, almost as though I was in some kind of black and white film. The darkness lurked in the corners, threatening to swallow me at any moment, feeling my fear, looking for any weaknesses they could use to their advantage.

  He shuffled back against the wall, a few inches separating our feet, as he bent his knees and rested his arms on top of them, his eyes constantly watching me. We stared across at each other, no words spoken as he held my gaze.

  My body shook, I desperately wanted it to stop. I wanted to run, I just couldn’t figure out how. This was it, the world was crumbling down around me, and there was no stopping it. I couldn’t even fight my way out, it was fucking pointless trying.

  I was waiting for him to start laughing at me, to point over and tell me how weak I was. I couldn’t argue.

  I was weak.

  I needed the pills.

  They would get me through this.

  They would make it all better.

  Numb, I want to be numb.

  I was broken, twisted and screwed up.

  I waited for judgment to reach Wrench’s eyes. He must know. He must be so disgusted. Shame built up in my gut, and I curled my arms around my knees, pulling them into my chest, not even caring when I looked down and saw that blood was smeared across my arms.

  It will make you feel better.

  The words made me want to vomit as they played over and over in my head. I screamed out loud and threw my head back. My hand twitched. I wanted to reach for the drawer where they were hidden. It was an internal battle—fight the darkness alone or give in to the one thing that I knew would offer me peace.

  I wanted one, just one.

  No, I needed more than one.

  Then I could drift away into oblivion and never return. The pain would fade, as would the noise.