Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(17)

She growls in frustration, her hands raised in the air like she wants to strangle me. I’d give her something to strangle alright.

“As you just found out, I have a great remedy for that stress.” That’s a lie, masturbating makes it worse, I think.

“Shut up!” she yells, still facing away from me. Her tone not that cute angry that makes me smile, but the pissed version that tells me she’s f*cking serious.

No matter how much I tease her, to try and show her she wants me and belongs to me… it may not be enough to win her trust, her respect. The two things that are most important to me.

Closing my eyes, I think about that, and how to rectify this situation.

***

A MOTORCYCLE ROARS BY, waking me. Stretching out, and glancing over, Jillian is still fast asleep. A sliver of sunlight peeks from underneath the curtain of the van window, splashing along her collarbone.

Fuck she’s beautiful.

I really screwed up with her.

It kills me not to see her goofy grin, where she shows that slight overbite, and the little wrinkles next to her eyes. I’m going out of my mind not being able to touch her, to own her or the moans spilling from her mouth. To be the cause of her body trembling and dying for her next breath.

I fear for her, ‘cause when she’s finally done being mad at me I may actually rip her in two with all the pent up possessive energy I’m harboring. I’m going to bury my cock so deep into that wetness, I won’t know where she begins and I end. My hip bones will bruise her thighs, and her arms won’t have the strength to hold her up. Most of all…she won’t stop smiling that goofy little grin when we’re done either.

Yeah, that is happening. And f*cking soon.

Another motorcycle drives by, and she jumps upright. Her hair sticking up everywhere, her eyes half asleep with one eye open and the other closed. She’s the definition of bed head, and she wears it f*cking beautifully.

“Morning, Rookie.”

She glares, pulling her shirt closed so I can’t see her tits.

“What time is it?” Her voice is thick with sleep. I want to hear her moan my name with that tone of voice. God, I gotta stop that shit.

“Don’t know.” I climb up front, and look out the windshield. “Maybe noon?”

The block is cleared of cars, and most of the motorcycles are gone.

“What now?” She follows me up front, rubbing her eyes like a little kid who’s tired.

I point at the stake out car that’s still parked in front of the club.

“We can’t go in there, it’s too risky. So we’re going to find a phone so I can call Paw.”

“Paw?”

“Yeah, it’s his gangster name or some shit, I don’t know. He moved from Vegas because California had a better supply and demand for the product he was wanting to move. Last time I knew he was hanging out around this area.” Paw was one of my best sellers, he took growing weed, and cutting coke seriously. When he informed me he was moving farther west I wasn’t happy about it. It’s hard to trust people in the business of drugs as it is, and a man I knew from childhood was bailing on me. The only reason I allowed it was because he put me in contact with another dealer he swore would be profitable. The new guy is good, but I’m not sure he’s as great as Paw was.

“You’d think for a gangster he’d come up with a moniker a little more intimidating than Paw.” She grabs her seatbelt, getting situated.

I can’t help but smile, wait till she sees the guy. Paw is a big guy, with tattoos all over him. His name could be Tiny, and he’d still scare the shit out of kids.

I drive to the closest gas station, and pull next to the side of the building. Flipping the dashboard inside out I look for a couple quarters to call Paw. After finding a few, I eye Jillian. I can’t leave her here, she might run or try and drive off.

“You’re coming with me.”

“What?” she retorts, sass heavy in her tone.

“I don’t trust—”

“You don’t trust me. Yeah, we established that.” She rolls her eyes and unbuckles her seatbelt. Gritting my teeth, I scowl. When she finally forgives me, I’m going to f*ck that bratty attitude right out of her.

Getting out of the car, I grab her by the cuffs and pull her closely behind me so nobody can see the metal wrapped around her wrists.

Keeping my hand on her, I put the quarters in and dial the last number I remembered Paw having.

“Ello?”

“Paw?”

“Who da f*ck is this?”

“It’s Zeek. I need a favor.”

“Zeek, my motherf*cking brother from another mother. What’s up, man? What you need?”

“I need somewhere to stay, just for a while.”

“You in some shit?” His tone dips, as if someone might hear him.

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” I look at Jillian, the sun beaming off her blonde hair as she looks out at the passing cars.

“Aight, I got you. You know your way around LA?”

“I can manage.”

“No doubt, No doubt. Head to Rustic Creek, and head on Green Eldgewood, House number 1356.”

“Got it.”

“Aight, I’ll meet you there, homey.”

I hang the phone up, and pull on Jillian’s cuffs.