Red (Black #2) Read online

  “You should grow it, make me even weaker at the knees.” She winked, always at the most incidental things. She was random in some ways, I liked that about her.

  My own hand went to touch it, I thought about it and decided I would. She could see my decision, she just knew me. Like no one had before.

  “I’ll miss you when I can’t see you, and I’ll miss you even more until the minute I do.”

  “I’ll miss the minutes, the seconds, the hours, until then.” I always retorted her odd way with words, sometimes they made no sense, but since that first night, when weird confessions were made on top of a lake, nothing seemed that odd anymore.

  She leaned up, her lips brushed slightly against my lips, they were so soft, so full. I could never get enough of them. I released our joined hand, grabbed either side of her face and kissed her as hard as I could. She participated. Opening her mouth and giving me as much back. When we broke apart, our breaths were heavy and our eyes closed. She leaned in and kissed me one more time.

  I watched as she walked away, her long blonde hair swaying as she left. And couldn’t wait for the next twelve hours to be over so I could see her again.

  Then… I waited. She didn’t come the next day.

  Or... the next.

  The color was gone.

  And in its place, was Black.

  I look at the train, then back at her. I don’t remember anything but that memory and the pain she left with it. Her hand squeezes mine.

  Was she the cause of the darkness that took me over? Was she the reason killing someone didn’t affect me. Was she the reason I didn’t care? Didn’t love? The train was still colored, the paint chipped in places, but her name in red writing stood out the most.

  “Sixteen years old,” I whisper.

  I hear her sharp intake of breath, then listen as she came to stand in front of me. Her eyes are large with hope. “I’ll miss you when I can’t see you, and I’ll miss you even more until the minute I do.” I look straight into her eyes when the words leave my mouth, her eyes growing so wide in surprise. She steps forward, reached her hand up to my face, touching my beard. “I knew I’d love it,” she says, touching it.

  I watch her with interest. The thoughts consuming my mind mixed with anger and lust. I want to fuck her like I’ve never fucked anyone. Then I want to strangle her for making me this way. The cold-hearted bastard that I am. I grab her face with both hands, pull her to me and place my mouth on hers—it’s not soft, it’s hard. Her mouth automatically opens granting me access. I take it, planning to take it all from her tonight, then dish out her own punishment.

  Her body rubbing against mine, I rub back wanting the friction to never end. I walk us backward, she keeps up with me, then, I pick her up by the back of her legs and slam her back into the train. Punishment.

  She squeaks but never says a word. I free my cock, hike up her skirt, then pull her panties to the side. She knows what I’m about to do, and doesn’t stop me. I break away, the kiss falling from my lips as I watch her. Her eyes are closed, her head slams back against the train in pleasure, and I’m not even inside of her yet. Has she not been touched for ages? The thought skips through me then vanishes just as fast. I position her, then slam into her. She screams my name—not Trace, but Liam. The one I just remembered. It’s beautiful coming from her lips, and it’s even sexier how she rides my cock, up and down.

  Her nails dig into my shoulders, my fingers dig into her ass. She wants what I’m giving her, no, she fucking loves it.

  “Tell me, Liam,” she screams.

  I ignore her and push into her harder, fucking her harder. It’s pleasure unlike I’ve had with other women. She’s it, and I’m about to ruin it. Was it the darkness taking over? It has its way of doing that, though not with her. She keeps it at bay, something I never understood until tonight.

  I’m bruising her hips now, I can feel my own strength gripping her too tightly that I know bruises will be left. She doesn’t seem to care, it actually makes her go faster, encouraging her. She leans down when she’s coming, her pussy milking my cock and she bites my shoulder, hard. Then I come.

  Her head picks up, she smiles at me, hope written on her face. Nothing is written on mine. I know she can see it, her smile drops, her hope dwindles too. I unwrap her legs and place them on solid ground. I smile a sinister smile and speak, “Tomorrow.”

  She barely smiles but repeats what I said, and turns away from me as I walk off.

  I don’t know what happened, don’t know how to explain it. He was there, then he wasn’t. He fucked me, and he fucked me hard. It was brilliant but damaging. He remembered me, then he left. I don’t quite understand it, and I stay in the same spot for what seems like ages.

  He walked off, didn’t even say goodbye, didn’t want me to come with him. If he remembered me, how could he do something like that? Liam Black wouldn’t have done that to me. Yes, he has pushed me away, and I pushed right back. He wouldn’t have left me, though, I don’t think he could have even he tried. What we had, is hard to describe, and even harder to explain. It’s something people wouldn’t understand. We are two different people, living on two different planets—his is one with no love or feelings and my planet is his.

  Jake is at my house when I enter, he takes one look at me, grabs his jacket and storms to the front door. He knows where I’ve been, knows who I was with. I don’t want him angry at Liam, he can’t be.

  “Don’t Jake.” He stops with his hand on the door, turns to look at me and grimaces.

  “I can get a punch in before he shoots me at least.” He tries to make a joke though it isn’t one. What he says is true. “Tell me what happened, tell me before I make it worse in my head than what it is.”

  “He said he remembered, then we…” I stop, to look at him. He nods his head, he understands. “Then he left. Except the way he left, it was like he was punishing me.”

  “Punishing you?”

  I nod my head.

  “So he fucked you in public, then left you?”

  I nod my head again, I don’t look up though I hear the door slam as he leaves.

  I pace my entry, looking to the door, waiting for him to walk back in. He’s done this before, gotten angry, left, then walks back in a little later. Except this time, I don’t know if he will. I ring Liam, wondering if he will even answer me. To my surprise he does.

  “I hate these things,” he grumbles into the phone.

  “I know, you always have.”

  “Red.”

  “Yes, look… Jake is angry with you. He may be there very soon. Don’t shoot him.”

  “Shoot him?” he questions me.

  “Yes, don’t shoot him.”

  “Who is Jake? And why can’t I shoot him?”

  I drop the phone, my hands cling to my hair. Really? How is this happening to me? I manage to pick the phone back up, when I do the front door opens and Jake is standing there, his hand is busted, but he’s more relaxed.

  “I have to go,” I say into the phone hanging up on him. I don’t wait for a reply or to answer his question. I walk straight to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack and walking back to where Jake is, still standing in the same spot.

  “Thank you.” He winks at me and doesn’t flinch when I place the pack on his knuckles.

  “I ain’t promising I won’t get a hit in.”

  “I know, just let me deal with it all for now.”

  “Have you told him? Told him about Liam?” I shake my head no, he raises an eyebrow at me in question, he always does that to me.

  “I don’t think he remembers me.” Jake pulls a tight face, not quite understanding. “I spoke to him. He doesn’t remember you. You should be someone he remembers if he remembers. You were a fixture. I think he only remembers something, not sure what, and I know it’s with me. I just don’t know what exactly.”

  “This whole thing is fucked. You know that, right?”

  “Also life lifting.”

  “How?”


  “I wasn’t living before, Jake. I was surviving. I still have nightmares. Now when I have those nightmares, I wake, knowing it’s going to be okay. He’s alive, the devil didn’t take him.”

  “The devil?” He shakes his head at me.

  “Yes, his blackness. He said it would take him to hell.”

  “You’re gonna have to tell him, you can’t wait forever, Rose. He needs to know. Even if he doesn’t remember you, want you, he needs to know he has a child. Let him decide for himself what he wants.”

  “He won’t want me?”

  “There’s a possibility, Rose, you aren’t embedded on him. You were before, you aren’t now.”

  “I’ll embed myself on him again.”

  He laughs at me as he grabs the ice pack and walks off.

  The kids run to the door, Jake stays down the other end of the house, possibly patching up his hands. My mother smiles at me as she carries Liam in asleep in her arms. I take him from her and thank her, she kisses me on the cheek and leaves. Our relationship has grown, she has grown. She’s dating now, and she’s more involved in our lives.

  Hayden smiles and kisses my cheek. I love that boy just like he was my own. To me he is mine. He calls me Mom, and I let him. His parents never once tried to contact him, they took off after they got their money from Liam and never looked back.

  “Have you seen him?” Hayden asks as I start preparing tonight’s dinner, he sits on the bench watching me.

  “Who?”

  “Mr. Black.”

  I drop the carrot and look at him. He always called him that, Mr. Black. “Have you?”

  He nods his head with confirmation. “Yes, I even got in the car with him. He’s much the same, but somehow different.”

  “He is, Hayden?” He smiles at me, and I know how much it hurt him when he died. “Don’t go around Mr. Black, okay? Not until I say so.”

  “Why Mom?”

  “Please just don’t, will you listen to me?” It’s a lot for me to ask that, he was around Liam for so long, Liam was his savior. He did things for him that he didn’t even know he was doing which was effectively saving his life.

  “Okay,” he agrees, and I want to believe him. I do. Except it’s Liam, once you love him, it’s hard to let him go.

  My head snaps back, my nose starts dripping with blood, so I wipe at it. The man stands there, smiling, then he walks to me and claps me on the back and hugs me. I want to shoot him, I think I might till he speaks.

  “You deserved that, don’t do that to her again.”

  “What?”

  “You asked me to protect her with my life. I will protect her, have been, even if that means from you.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” He’s dressed much like my brothers from the club. I can tell automatically he’s a biker. That’s why my hand is on my gun, not moving.

  “Your brother man.”

  “I know who my brothers are, and soon, they will all be ten feet under. Now would you like to rephrase that?”

  He laughs a good belly laugh at me. “Still the same.”

  I haven’t moved from the bed I’m on since he hit me, I haven’t been able to move from this bed since last night. My body is breaking out in the shakes, I’ve been sick all night. I only moved inches after the punch to reach for my gun, which is still in hand, no matter who he says he is.

  I try to stand, I do, but my body won’t have it. I catch myself on the wall, it doesn’t last long, the dizziness takes over, and soon I’m falling.

  I awake to people surrounding me. A man in a suit stands and talks to a woman, her voice is calming. I like her voice, I just can’t see her. Sleep takes me again.

  I can feel her hands on my arm and the touch is soft. She runs it along, soothing, except a part of me wants to pull away. I do so, move away, she stands up abruptly. She looks tired, her eyes are bloodshot red. She’s changed her clothes, though, and the bed I’m in, I don’t recognize at all.

  “You were having withdrawals.” Her hand shakes, as she runs it through her hair, such long blonde hair. “We don’t quite understand from what, but we have an idea.”

  “Idea?” My voice is scratchy. How many days have I been asleep? Or drunk any water? My mouth feels so parched, and lips cracked. I notice the drip in my arm and pull it out, the room I’m in is black, and it feels oddly comforting.

  “You have track marks between your toes, did you do that?” Shock and anger radiate through me, anger based on who I think did this. Shock as how they got away with it. She asks me again, “Did you do that, Liam?” Her face is so close, it’s so tired. Did I make her like that?

  “How long have I been… here?” I ask looking around.

  She sits back on the end of the bed, her face scrunches, hurt from me not answering her question. “A few days, close to a week.”

  “Fuck!” I stand, my legs are shaky. She stands automatically, ready to grab me. I am inches from her now, her face is so close. Her full pink lips, so kissable, so fucking close.

  “This is your room.” I watch her lips when she speaks. It takes me moments to understand what she’s saying.

  A noise, a noise so loud pulls me from her. She steps forward, closer to me. The noise scaring her, enticing me. A noise that’s bred into me rings off again, I don’t stop her when she pulls away and opens the door. I can’t, my body is too slow, too broken right now, my energy has been drained to non-existent.

  Another shot, this time I don’t see her, she’s disappeared through the door. I reach under the bed, pulling out a black case. Opening it, I wonder why I even grabbed it, not wondering how I knew exactly where it was.

  It has two guns, a handgun, and a sniper rifle. I pull the rifle—this is something that feels like mine. It feels like the only thing I’ve touched that feels all mine. I know everything about it, without even seeing it clearly.

  Another shot, women start to scream.

  I use the walls to help me walk out, and when I enter the main room, I see a red couch with colored walls, so brightly covered in graffiti. This is the house she took me to before I fucked her against a dirty wall like a whore.

  I get to the window and look down, Red is a few meters away from Savannah. Savannah has a gun in her hand, waving it around like the careless bitch that she is. I hear Red’s calming voice, trying to placate her. It won’t work, because Savannah is a special kind of crazy.

  She sees me in the window and smiles brightly. Red follows her eyes and looks up at me the same time Savannah does. They aren’t too far apart, meters at best, but Red is blocking Savannah from the angle I aim at.

  “You think you can just leave?” She laughs, raises her gun to Red. Red looks back, Savannah isn’t watching her, her eyes are on me. “For this? For the junkie?”

  “What did you do to me, Savannah?”

  Her lips quirk up. “Having withdrawals, love?” Her shoulders rise in confidence. “Come with me and I can make it all better, baby.”

  “What was it, Savannah?”

  “It’s a memory suppressor, my love. One I gave to you when I slipped it into your dinner to help you fall asleep at night. You would have never known if you didn’t leave me.” Her eyes fall back to Red, she smiles at her. When she talks, she talks to me but constantly watches Red.

  “If you leave with me, we can forget about everything that’s happened, and I won’t hurt her.” She removes the safety from the gun, and Red begins to shake.

  I take aim—she doesn’t see me—and I shoot. She smiles brightly.

  The pain is so intense, it rips through my shoulder like a knife twisting back and forth. Savannah hums in amusement, her white teeth reminding me of the devil. She lowers her gun, looking up at Liam and blows him a kiss. She goes to raise the gun again, taking aim at my head, then as her smile turns sinister, her eyes roll backward. There’s a hole in between her eyes on her forehead. She drops to my feet. Not long after, I do the same, we both lay there coloring the green grass red.

  I hear footsteps, m
y body is on the verge of passing out. I can feel the blood as it pours from the wound, the pain taking hold. It hurts, and yes I’ve had worse. This, though, this is a pain that won’t stop twisting, a pain that my body wants to shut out by sleeping.

  I vaguely feel him, I smell him. I hear his struggle as he carries me up the stairs. He wouldn’t have any energy, he hasn’t eaten solid food for over a week.

  He places me in the bath, cuts my shirt open with a pocket knife, and I drift in and out of consciousness.

  “Bite,” he commands, placing something into my mouth. I can’t, I want to sleep because sleep takes the pain away.

  My own screams—ring in my ears. He’s digging into my shoulder for the bullet, his fingers inside my open wound. His free hand places the shirt into my mouth, trying to cut my screams but it doesn’t work. I hear when he removes the bullet, it dings when it hits the tiles, and I collapse a little more into the bath.

  He lifts me back up so he can reach my shoulder easily. This time, when he places something into my mouth he commands, “Bite.” I do, and pass out from that pain, as he stitches me up.

  He’s asleep next to me when I wake again. I watch his profile. He sleeps exactly the same as he did last time. Not moving, on his back. Like he’s dead.

  He has a scar on his eyebrow, one he never had before. I kneel up on my elbows, looking him over, he has a plain black shirt on I can’t see much, especially with his long black slacks that fit perfectly on his toned body. His hands, though, I notice them. He has a scar so deep in both palms. I lift his hand up gently while examining it. It’s on both sides like something has gone right through his hand.

  “Last person that touched me when I was sleeping, that I didn’t know, ended up with a bullet, Red.”