Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(17)
She knew the moment Dirty figured out exactly who Daniel was. His expression went from confused to not only hostile, but frightening. Murderous.
“Mooresville,” he growled menacingly. “Chief f*cktard? That’s who motherf*ckin’ did this to you?”
Ellie swallowed hard. What now? She obviously needed help and it wasn’t as if her parents could do anything. Dirty, as well as the Horsemen, she supposed, were her only option. The more she thought about it, the more a small sense of comfort began to soothe her tightly strung nerves. If anyone could take on the law and win, it was Deuce West. As it was, Dirty had already tried to kill the man.
“Yes,” she whispered, feeling disgusted with herself. “God, I was so stupid. What was I thinking kissing him?”
The next thing she knew Dirty was grabbing her shoulders, painfully squeezing her bruised skin. The smell of body odor, motor oil, and cigarette smoke hit her like a punch in the gut and she recoiled.
“Fuck that!” he hissed, shaking her. “This shit isn’t your fault. This is that rich, thinks-he’s-f*ckin’-entitled-to-anything-he-f*ckin’-wants *’s fault.”
“Stop!” she cried, her terror from last night resurfacing. “Please, you’re hurting me!”
Dirty froze and a breath later released her. She scrambled backward, back into the safety of the bathroom, and tried to breathe as her heart pounded painfully, wondering how she was going to escape Dirty when he was blocking her only exit. But when she looked back at him, she found him looking nearly as afraid as she felt. Not only was he holding his grease-stained hands out in front of him, he was staring down at them in disbelief.
Then he glanced up at her and his eyes went wide. It took Ellie a moment to realize what was wrong; she was naked, her towel had fallen from her body in her mad scramble for safety. Quickly, she snatched her towel from the floor and held it against her body and the second she did, Dirty suddenly spun around, facing the hallway.
“I’m sorry,” Dirty said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Fuck, I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
Ellie didn’t say anything, just stared at his back, at his hole-ridden T-shirt and the filthy jeans sagging off his body.
“Hang here,” he continued, his voice rough. “I’m goin’ to the club, gonna let Deuce handle this shit.”
As soon as Dirty took his first step forward, Ellie panicked. “Wait!” she cried and Dirty froze.
“Don’t leave me here alone!”
She didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to take the chance that Daniel had seen Dirty last night and would come looking for him or her or both of them.
“Fuck,” Dirty muttered. “Fuckin’ f*ck.”
Ellie waited with bated breath to see what he would say next, hoping and praying he wasn’t going to abandon her.
? ? ?
Holy f*cking shit. Holy what-the-f*ck f*cking shit. Dirty was going to throw up. He was going to f*cking spew his guts all over the damn place. What the f*ck was wrong with him? Why had he grabbed her? He could still feel her skin on his palms, warm and damp from her shower, her body quivering, the fear in her voice.
She’d been nearly raped in a filthy alleyway, beaten unconscious, and he’d only further terrified her. Then, if shit wasn’t already f*cking awful, he’d seen her naked.
She’d gained weight since he’d last seen her as a teenager. She’d been curvy before but she was all curves now. Her stomach far from flat, her full breasts hung heavy, and her thighs were dimpled with extra weight.
His brothers, most of them, would have taken one look at her and passed on her in favor of a thinner, more aesthetically pleasing female.
Actually, most of the boys steered clear of black women. Some of them because, yeah, they were f*cking racist, others because brothers knew better than to mess with a sister. Most of the black women they encountered were gang-affiliated, and not women who messed around. If you wanted a black bitch in your bed, you’d better have plans on making her your old lady unless you wanted to find your balls no longer attached to your body.
But none of it was off-putting to him. Dirty never discriminated; he didn’t give two f*cks who he was f*cking because 99.9% of the time they didn’t have a clue they were being f*cked, and the other 0.1%…
Tap stepped in front of Deuce. “Hold off a minute, Prez,” he said, looking down at Mama Vi, his mouth slowly curving into a grin. “Lemme have at her first.”
“Fuck you,” Deuce muttered. “This bitch needs to be put the f*ck down.”
“Yeah,” Tap said, his eyes never once leaving Mama Vi. “But first I’m gonna show her what the f*ck happens when some f*ckin’ cunt thinks she can mess with my club.”
“You just wanna f*ck her,” Cox said, lighting up a smoke. “Don’t lie.”
Tap shrugged. “That too.”
Dirty had been standing off to the side waiting for it, watching Tap closely, knowing exactly what was running through the brother’s mind, waiting for Deuce to okay it before he jumped on board.
He didn’t get the chance very often to take a woman while she was conscious, a woman he could do whatever the f*ck he wanted to, beat her, brutally f*ck her like a goddamn animal, relish in hearing her beg and scream.
Because unlike most of the women he f*cked, this bitch deserved what she was about to get.