Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) Page 3

  She was supposed to be taken last year but the guy ended up dead in the end. After that, I was told to keep an eye out while waiting to get my hands on Polesky’s Russian ass and bring him down.

  Nicholas Polesky is the drug lord to the Russian Cartel, who’s downright fucked up in the head. If he gets her, either she’ll be sold, made into his personal slut, or killed. He has major connections in this country and is the principal supplier for the Southeast. Last I heard, he was sitting low in Atlanta somewhere. So far, no one can pinpoint his exact location. We do know his shipments come in on Georgia and South Carolina’s coast. And before I came into the picture, he tried to get his hands on the Gulf coast. And I dare that sonofabitch to try and take it from me.

  My eyes focus on Trudy for a moment, and I notice she’s drinking for the first time since I met her. She’s always been quiet, and I hope she stays that way. The last thing I need is a loud, annoying girl to babysit. Even though all has been quiet, I still watch her. Jax seems to have a handle on things right now, but I’m not sure how he’ll do when shit goes down. And it always does in time. Especially in my line of business.

  Luckily, Ryan’s the only one who knows of my Cartel job out of this group of young kids, and not by choice. He’s a persistent pain in my ass who’s hung around The Hole enough to figure it out. But instead of putting a cap in his ass for knowing too much, I keep him around. He’s been loyal and keeps my mind in a better place when it wants to stay in the dark. I need that at times, so I don’t go fucking insane and do something I’ll regret.

  A hand touching my shoulder pulls me from my musings, and I immediately grasp it. I don’t like to be surprised. When I look up, I relax when I see its owner. Mari Rivera.

  “I’ll be damned, sugar. When Ryan mentioned you two were in a band, I had no fucking clue it was like what I just heard.” Mari walks around my chair while her hand slides along my shoulder. She sits in my lap, uninvited, but much welcomed at the moment. Usually I’d throw the chick off who attempts to do something like that, but Mari is someone who is more than welcome. Especially tonight. I need to get rid of this frustration and what better way than to have a quick fuck. She’s also someone who can hold her own and I respect. Which is something not easily gained.

  She fights at the gym and last year, she started competing. Ryan and I actually spar with her because female fighters are few and far between. And it’s improved her skills and strength a considerable amount. If she keeps it up, she’ll be able to go pro as she’s dreamed of, in no time.

  She’s not looking to be Sally homemaker like most women. She wants to win a belt in the UFC, so she doesn’t want anything other than an occasional fuck. And that is totally cool with me. It’s like getting in the ring. We go at it a few times and then go our separate ways. That is until we get ready for another round. Like now.

  I grip her ass as she turns and straddles my lap in her tight jeans. “What did you think we did? Played in Ryan’s uncle’s garage where we stash our Playboys?” Grabbing her cigarette, I inhale a deep drag while trying to calm my body’s repressed cravings. After years of being clean, you’d think they’d quit, but when I get real fucking agitated, they like to surface, and I know exactly who has me fucking frustrated. It’s not Jim, either.

  Mari licks her pink lips, and I see the glint of the tongue ring that knows all sorts of tricks. “Playboy, huh? I have something warmer than a magazine and a lot more vocal. You want to see a real centerfold tonight?” Her hand travels from her shirt-clad breasts down her tight body and reaches my denim-clad cock that’s straining to be set free. “Where’s that cute redhead from earlier? She can play too if she likes it rough.”

  “The hell if I know or care. She’s just some crazy chick who’s lucky she’s a she.” I pull her hard to my mouth and fuck her lips with my tongue. My fingers pull roughly on her dark hair, so there’s not a millimeter of air between us. Most girls pull away when the demon takes over. Not Mari though. She always seems to like it when I get rough. I wonder if Red would like it. Maybe her hair color isn’t the only thing on fire. She might like… What the fuck? Get a grip. That crazy ass girl will not ruin my fucking night anymore. I pull away and enjoy how Mari’s dark eyes are halfway closed and her panting breathing fans my face. “Let’s go.”

  After she stands, I shoot a quick text. Headed out.

  Lou knows to keep his distance. He’s one of my warehouse managers and watches for anyone crazy wanting to cause trouble where trouble shouldn’t be. Or if we have unwanted company from the Russians.

  “Your place or mine, sugar?” Mari asks as we make our exit. I just look at her because she knows the answer. Very few people come to my house. Too much liability. She nods her head, hearing my response in my silence. “Gotcha. See ya there.” She heads out towards her Dodge Ram 1500 that sits on thirty-eights. Guys around here would kill to drive something that big, and when she jumps out, they always want the whole package. Me… I’ll stick with my bike. Faster and easier to outrun shit. But I do have my silver Z28 SS at home as a backup.

  Pulling into her house off Dauphin Street, I follow her up the steps to her front door. She lives in one of Mobile’s historical homes that is being fixed up over time. Real wood siding, old wooden floors, and small rooms, I couldn’t stay in something like this. I need space, or I’ll feel like I’m back in a cell.

  Before I can even get in the door, she discards her jeans while watching me. No sweet words with this woman. Just get down to business and get home. I walk to her after she’s stripped down to her black panties and reach around her waist to grip that ass I love. Some guys are into tits. Me? I’m all about the ass on a female. I lift her in my arms before walking forward to place her back against the wall. The feel of her ass in my palms has me kneading each cheek roughly, as I bite her plump bottom lip. I grind myself between her muscular thighs while my tongue explores her mouth before I kiss my way to her ear. “How do you want it, Mari? Here, first?” I reach up and take her mouth roughly, imagining my cock being sucked by those lips. “Or here?” Bracing my legs, I hold her up with one arm as the other reaches between her legs to rub the spot she loves. She moans when I pass her clit with some pressure, and her body twitches in my arms. She’s so fucking wet already that I slip a finger in and move it along the walls of her pussy.

  “Mouth, Lyric… Fuck my mouth,” she pants out. She loves to give head, and I love watching her kneel in front of me, licking the underside of my dick before taking me in her mouth.

  I oblige without another word and enjoy as she sucks me till I’m hard as stone and ready to explode. Call me greedy, but I don’t give a fuck. She wanted it, and she’ll get it after she sucks me up again. “You gonna swallow?” My voice is gruff as I try to hold back for another minute. She looks at me, and with the moonlight through the window illuminating her face, arches her brow. Of course, she’ll swallow. This is Marisol Rivera.

  She adjusts herself on her knees and takes the base of my cock in one hand while the other caresses my balls with just enough pressure to take me over the edge. I grip her head and hold her to me while I thrust repeatedly before I explode in her mouth. As my thrusts slow, she looks up at me and knows what I want next. So she takes my come in her mouth, and spits a small amount back on the head of my shaft before licking it up again.

  After I’m cleaned and she’s swallowed, I step away and wait for her to stand. Then I walk over and pull her face to me before I kiss her roughly. So hard I’m sure her lips will be bruised in the morning, but right now, I just don’t give a shit.

  I get home at three a.m., still feeling restless, even after my night with Mari. I should be as drained as she was when I walked out, but my body’s set on a different clock. After years of watching my back in the dark, I stay awake when the suns down. A decent night’s sleep is something foreign to me. If I’ve ever had one, I don’t remember it. I’ll take a nap when the sun rises.

  Standing on my front steps, I look up at the moon and flex my f
ingers over and over while my heart beats against my ribs. Why the hell am I this fucking hyped up? I didn’t have a bad run or have to handle some shit ass slinger like a few weeks ago, but I feel like I just fought in the ring and I’m ready for round two.

  “It’s about damn time. My ass has gone to sleep.”

  With an ingrained instinct, I swiftly cock my gun and direct it toward the intruder in the shadows. Now I know something is not right with me. Usually I’d know there was someone sitting on my porch. Mistakes like this one can’t happen in my line of work. It could cost me my life.

  I squint my eyes in the direction of the voice that scratches at my memory. “You have until the count of three to reveal yourself before I pull the fuckin’ trigger. One.”

  “Hold up, Scarface.” The figure steps closer until he’s in the moonlight five feet away from my gun. “Now will you put that damn thing away? You could put your eye out with it.”

  Surprise and suspicion war when I finally recognize the person in front of me. Parker Hyde AKA Hyde is the last person I ever expected to see again. The last time I saw him was before I left The Reform, or Hell as the young delinquents called it. He came in when I was nineteen. He was quiet and stayed to himself. If you ask me, he didn’t belong there. I stuck up for him a few times since I had been there for two years and most knew to keep their distance. The law says he’s a felon like myself, but I don’t see it in him. Never had. Even now- with his clean haircut and clothes that make him look like an Abercrombie poster boy. Plaid button downs aren’t my thing and neither are khakis. But he’s always been able to conform to any environment or situation and eventually held his own. “Hyde?” Shaking my head, I hesitantly put my gun away. “What the fuck are you doing here, and how the hell did you find me?”

  He only shrugs and keeps his eyes on mine. “You know who sent me, dumbass. The why is because rumor has it Polesky is in town, and they think you may need me.”

  Pissed off, agitated, and excited, I pull my hair before I have a chance to punch my door. I’d love to face off one on one, but he always has his thugs do his dirty work. He’s nothing but an exaggerated pussy. I’ve been waiting for him to come on my fucking turf, but I know he’s bringing his posse to showoff and protect his ass. I also know there’s going to be trouble. Now I have another person to watch out for. Fuck! Regardless of my anger, I need to get my shit ready and constantly watch what’s mine.

  Nicholas Polesky and his entire family are known to take what they want in the past. He was the worst then, and I’m sure he’s the same bastard he was nine years ago. Memories of red, warm blood covering my hands from what that fucker’s family took from me cause my palms to twitch, ready to take them down again. This was where my reason to hate him and his entire empire surfaced. In that dark alley, I took something from him and got my revenge, but it started our hatred for one another.

  Shaking the memory of Carly’s lifeless green eyes out of my brain, I unlock the door to my home and try to bring my head to the here and now. I concentrate on the stonework around the fireplace and wooden frame of the mahogany crown molding and high ceilings until my heart slows down. I like this house. It’s the nicest I’ve stayed in, besides one back in New Orleans. The gated suburban community helps me keep a low profile and prevents burnouts and junkies from coming here for their next fix. I keep surveillance everywhere and only have a few trusted men in. Ryan being one of them. Lou, my bodyguard and warehouse dog being the other, and I guess Hyde’s ass being the third.

  Walking into the kitchen, I don’t say another word as Hyde follows behind me. I fix myself a stiff shot of Everclear and let my thoughts try to work out a plan as the warmth flows down my throat. The Reform gives you one man you report to daily with all new information. If something happens and action is needed, you make a plan and handle it. If you fail, then you’re useless to them after that and disposable.

  Hyde leans against the dark granite counter, watching me intently. “So I’m here to help get this mess cleaned up and save your ass. I don’t want any lip about it either. You’ve saved my ass before, and it’s time to repay the favor.” He sees my dark look that says ‘fuck off’ but ignores it. “You know we have no fucking choice in the matter, man. So go ahead and think of something to tell the people you associate with, and then figure out where you want me. Either I go into Jay’s or the warehouse. I have to keep surveillance on both, but only one needs to know my face. Massey’s orders.”

  He’s right. I have no choice in the matter. He’s been through the same shit I’ve been through while in The Reform, so I know he’s capable of handling his own. I also know he’s talented. His rich parents put him in every extracurricular activity a child could do, music, acting, karate. You name it, this kid did it. He does have skills and his photographic memory will come in handy. Plus he’s smart with the tech shit. I’m more of a hands-on guy and computers aren’t my thing. And if Massey, our go-to guy, said it, I know it’s legit.

  As I’m swallowing down my last gulp, I feel like a fucking genius as the perfect solution to one of my problems is formed. “Well, Hyde, if you have to be here, then I hope you brought some different clothes. Cause that pretty boy shit you’re wearing ain’t gonna cut it. Not for what I have in mind, Cuz.”

  “I am who I am for a reason. A reason I wish to forget and therefore forget who I am.”

  ~Blaire

  Blaire

  I’m cold as I lie here hiding under my blanket. He’s home, and beer cans were scattered around the living room floor when I came home earlier, so I know what’s coming. The sun’s lowering, but soft light still reaches my eyes as I bury deeper in my blanket wanting to disappear. However, its smell is my reminder that I’m still here. Even though I’ve washed it a thousand times, it still smells of stale beer and him. I wish Benji didn’t leave me again. I wish I asked to go instead of staying here, but his life is so different from mine. Where I fold into myself for solitude, he reaches out and socializes. Laughing and flirting with all the local girls. Girls who look so happy and carefree. Not me. I’ll never be like that.

  Hearing the television click off, I hold my breath and pray. Pray he’ll pass out… Pray my lock works tonight. When I hear the handle jiggle, my shaking escalates while a cold sweat breaks out all over my body. My fear of monsters still lives at fifteen-years old, but this monster is all too real.

  Grabbing my pillow, I bury my face in the cool case and breathe in and out… in and out while counting to ten. Concentrating on my breathing and the feeling of dizziness, I don’t hear the door open or his approach. When the bed dips, I freeze all actions and wait for what’s to come. Wait for it to be over.

  “Blaire? Wake up, honey. Coffee and bacon are ready.”

  Startled awake by Janet’s voice, I inhale a large gulp of clean air and sit up so fast I feel dizzy afterwards. On the third inhale, I notice the air smells of coffee and vanilla incense instead of sweat and agony, of safety instead of a threat. Looking around, my eyes adjust, and then I notice I’m still sitting in the old, green chair I fell asleep in. However, the visions remain, and the feelings they cause don’t leave so easily.

  I’m shaking as my nightmare encompasses my entire soul. I think of all the years of disgust and feel my stomach roll like a tidal wave. Covering my mouth, I stand up and run to the kitchen sink to vomit. I’m gagging so hard that tears form in my eyes, but they could be from the dream I just had. No! Not a dream. It was a memory. A fucking memory that leaves me with nightmares. Nightmares that only Benji could make better. Nightmares that trigger my whole spirit to deteriorate.

  “Mouse? Are you okay, hon?” Janet stands by my side as I turn on the faucet to clean my mess. She gently touches my shoulder, but I stiffen and she releases me. I know she means well but touching anything or anyone right now is not an option. I stare down as the water eventually cleans away what little contents that I had in me, while wishing everything could be wiped away and cleaned up so easily. My knuckles are white, and my fin
gers have lost feeling from my grip on the countertop, but something cold on my hand has me loosening my hold. Janet places a wet cloth on top before she turns to finish what she was doing.

  I’m thankful she doesn’t say anything else. I don’t want to talk about what I went through or what I caused Benji to experience because of it. I shut off the water and wipe my face with the damp rag before I go and jump in a scalding hot shower where I scrub and scrub, desperate to feel a sliver of cleanliness. My tattoos can’t cover the filthiness that I have become used to over the years. But I’m hopeful. Hope is all I have left in life besides being a coward. I’m too scared just to stop it all.

  Time passes, and the water becomes cold. Forcing myself out, I dry off. When I open the door, I see a pile of neatly folded clothes on the floor and recognize them right away. My old Guns N’ Roses t-shirt seems to fit the same, but the old jeans have me lying across Janet’s bed to zip them up. They used to leave some breathing room, but now my ass looks like it is covered in body paint. I guess it’s from wearing heels and the classes I took this past year. Or I put on some weight in the ass area. I don’t care though. At this point, I’d wear a trash bag to get out of my earlier prostitute attire I wore back here.

  Making my way back in the dining area, I see Janet sitting at the table, reading the paper, and drinking coffee. She looks tired from last night’s shift and I see the shadows under her dimmed eyes still.

  When I sit down across from her, she slides an extra cup of coffee I didn’t notice before in my direction. Instead of bringing up what happened earlier, she gets to the point. “First thing I want to know is how’d you get in here? I didn’t see any busted windows, so I know you didn’t force your way in.”