Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

K andie

"Come the fuck on," he grounds out not even winded from the brawl he's just been in. He's dragging me out of the club, not caring that he's making me stumble behind him.

"Let me go." I snatch away from him. Taking one look at the fury, my instinct for self-preservation kicks in.

I take off into the woods behind The Shack. He has his head thrown back, so it takes him a moment to realize I'm booking on out of there.

Trees fly by. Weaving through this path is second nature. This is the way I would go if I was heading to my grandparents' house. He probably can guess my intention. Maybe he won't chase me. Why should he? He ignored me yesterday and now he's trying to act like I'm his. No. He doesn't get to know me now.

Silence surrounds me. I don't hear him crashing through the brush like before. If I had a moment to breathe, it would be a sigh of relief.

Maybe he's gone back into actually being an officer of peace instead of mayhem, calm instead of chaos.

Maybe — I

I'm snatched and slammed into a three-hundred-year-old oak, which is why these woods are preserved as a historic landmark.

"Ow." Rubbing the back of my head, I look up to this mean ass giant looming before me like he wants to break me. You first motherfucker.

"Leave me alone," I say between clenched teeth, trying to catch my breath. I need to bend to catch my breath from the jump scare he just gave me.

"You should have thought about that before you gave yourself to me," he hisses, crowding close to me, blocking the moonlight. "I told you, you fucked up."

"A mistake. Won't happen again." A light breeze cools my skin but does nothing to assuage the heat his presence is causing in my body. I can't help squirming against the tight pressure building in my kittykat.

"So you're a liar now?" he muses, stroking the pulse in my throat before tilting my face back so I can't avoid his piercing gaze.

"I mean it." I let him see that I do. "Keep the same energy you had yesterday, lil'fella. I'm good over here."

"Oh, yeah?" Growling, he quirks a brow. His voice is an aphrodisiac. My thighs tremble, and it's not from the exertion of running.

"Yep." Even I can hear the doubt creeping in. Damn him.

"Uhh-huh." Pressing in, he leans into the tree sandwiching my left side between him and the rough smoothness of the wood. Releasing my neck, he attempts to slip his hand between my shorts, but they are too tight. Flipping the button-fly open, he flicks the edges back, exposing my soft, round flesh.

"Tight ass shorts." Grumbling, he wedges his hand between the material and my flesh. "Open your damn legs."

Biting my lip until I taste blood, I do as he commands. My eyes roll, feeling his long finger caressing my pussy. It feels delicious.

"Fat ass pussy." He slides two fingers inside me and starts fucking me slowly. "And you think you get to keep her from me? No fucking way." He plunges deep in and out, torturing me with his words and deeds.

Arching into him like a greedy little nymph, I reach up to push him away but only end up holding on for dear life as he starts scissoring his fingers for the ultimate pleasure.

"Yesterday you acted like you didn't even know me," I cry, dipping my head into his chest.

"Everything isn't about you, wildcat." My head snaps up at his words. Then a cruel smirk spreads across his mouth. "But this? This concerns you." Moving his thumb, he swirls around my clit. "I'm going to fuck you right here. I don't give a fuck what I have going on — what a mess you're stirring up. I told you, you fucked up giving yourself to me. Wider." Again, I comply to his bossy command. The immediacy with which he rewards me has me gasping. Curling into him, I take the ruthless finger fucking he's giving me.

"Good fucking girl." Canting his head down, he watches the way he's sawing his fingers in and out of my pussy. "Look how she's creaming on me. Such an obedient, good little pussy. That's why she gets all my kisses and praise." His filthy words do exactly what he intends. I can hear the wet sounds as my body gives him the answers he's demanding of her.

"Ohmygoodness." Whimpering, I love and hate what he's doing to me. All but crumbling. I let him hold me, working my shorts down the rest of the way.

I hear more than see him unbuckle and zip down his Levis. Lifting me higher, he presses me against the tree. "Wrap those thick thighs around me, baby." No sooner than I do is he lining up and sinking into me.

"Fuck, you got some good ass pussy." His eyes go half-mast as he presses in deeper, his eyes on me. He watches my face as I take every thick inch of him. He feels so fucking good. I close my eyes, scared I'm going to look crazy because my eyes may cross from the mix of pleasure and pain he's giving me.

"Uh-uh, let me see you, wildcat. Don't hide." Sounding so sexy, he stops until I comply. "There she is. Don't try to run from me even in this. Keep those eyes on me, darling," he grunts, driving in to the hilt.

Opening my mouth to draw in a breath, I try to catch on to air as I try to adjust to his massive dick. Leaning in, he takes my mouth in ruthless possession. He makes me suck his tongue. Not to be outdone, I make him take mine in return. Long languid pulls from him have my pussy flooding with pleasure. For long moments he does filthy things to my mouth and just flexes inside. My muscles work in tandem with him milking his thick, muscled length.

He is all slow precision when he withdraws slick with my essence. "Think you can take this dick now, wildcat?"

"Yea—h," barely getting the word out, I end on a yelp as he slams home. The tree has no give. Hips pistoning with one purpose he plunders every inch of me. Diving into the hollow of my neck, he sucks so hard it almost feels like a bite.

"Turnabout is fair play," he grunts, fucking deep into me. "You're trouble, but you're my trouble." Hips slamming in a rhythm that has me lifting to each punishing surge, he continues his torment.

"You love this shit." He pulls back so I can see the piercing blue of his eyes. "Me chasing you, hunting you down." He sinks deep, his jaw working as he speaks his dirty thoughts aloud. "I thought it was a fluke when I caught you the other time and you were so wet for me. Now, I know." Canting his head makes me meet his gaze. "You want me to catch you and fuck and fuck."

Not willing to admit how thrilling that first time or this one is, I grab his nape, drawing him to me. "We fucking, or are you going to keep the therapy session going?"

A wild, dangerous smile spreads across his face. It's not a nice one, filled with challenge and a little malice. Hitching my bottom, he angles himself just so. "Definitely fucking."

If they hear us in the city center, I wouldn't be surprised. He drives home, hitting my G-spot with every pass coming and going. Tears prickle my eyes.

"Come for me," he whispers with the same intensity he's fucking me. Delicious torment tears at me. Leaning in, he licks my tears when they slip down my face into my neck. He fucks me mercilessly, not stopping even when my body seizes, and I cry his name coming so hard on his dick that it feels like a cramp.

Pounding through that orgasm, he takes me higher and higher again until I'm on the precipice again.

"Fuck yeah, look how well you take me, lil mama," he groans, watching his dick claim me again and again. I can barely see from my vantage point, but what I do see, his thick base soaked with my cream disappearing into me, is enough.

"Kandie," he growls, his dick kicking just as I clench around him in the throes of another climax. Lifting my face in time to take his descending mouth, I swirl my tongue around his as he groans. His whole body vibrates with the intensity of his release, slamming into me in a discordant rhythm as he chases his climax. I can feel the hot jets of his cum bathing me.

Long moments he holds me pinned against the tree. His breathing is harsh. Mine is almost matching, my breasts rising and calling like a hummingbird's wings.

Eventually, the sound of the night reaches my ears; grasshoppers singing, the distant sounds of The Shack. The night air is a mix of honeysuckle, wild rose, fresh mowed grass, and our sex.

Goosebumps rise on my arms and I feel how sticky with sex and sweat I am. As if sensing how I'm feeling, he rubs the chill from my skin. Easing out of me, he's quiet as he helps me back into my shorts, working them over my thighs, then buttoning them. After adjusting my bra and shirt, he does his clothes.

"Ready?" he asks. I'm not sure what he means until he adds, "I'm walking you home."

"You don't—" I stop when I see the muscle in his jaw ticking like a bomb about to go off.

"C'mon." Draping a long arm around my shoulder, he leads us down the path out to the main road leading to my bakery.

"You alright?" Ulysses asks, looking over his shoulder down at me as he unlocks my door.

No.

"Yes," I lie. I can tell by the way he's looking at me he's not buying it. He shoves open the door going in ahead of me. I hang back for a second.

I didn't come back home without him. Instead, I went back to my place at Mama-Pete's house. The feeling of being violated never abated, but with Ulysses coming by every night after made it possible for me to come back to my loft. He goes over to the new recliner to take off his boots. He brought the overstuffed chair over the day after my cousins painted. It used to be his dad's. "You can put it to better use than us. Mom and I never sit in it, anyway." He shrugged like it was no big deal. It is to me. I thought it meant something, and it did until yesterday.

"So, who is it about?" Leaning against the door, I pull my pink cowboy boot off, then the other looking him square in his beautiful face.

Sighing, he rises to his full six-foot-seven, crossing his thickly muscled arms over his chest. "Mrs. Katie-Belle asked me to see these folks around who were going to be in town for the graduation. They are a group of investors. She thought they'd cotton to a Shelby but since most Shelbys can't be trusted, she could only count on Seb or me. Seb couldn't do it for whatever reason, so he asked me."

My mind goes to his behavior. "And that look you gave me?"

"You pop off over the slightest thing. And that Monica lady would have incited you." His mouth hardens. "Satisfied?"

Saying nothing, I walk a little farther into the room. Pulling off my shirt and bra, I watch him watching me. Wriggling out of my Daisy Dukes, I kick them across the room to where he's standing.

"Not even a little bit." Heading to the bathroom, I let out an eep when he picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder.

"I'll be back later tonight."

I put the prepped milk rolls up so that they can poof, trying to hold on to the warm cozy feeling I had when Ulysses kissed me on my forehead after getting a call just as we were about to fall asleep.

That was it for any sleep I thought I tried to get, so I got up, deciding to get a start on the day. Who needs sleep anyway?

I jump when I hear a distant thud. Is it coming from my place? My heart trips over itself as I take the fire escape to the roof. My thighs tremble from exertion and the fear with each rung I take up. If I can come down the other side and hop on my balcony, maybe I can get a picture of them with my phone. It shouldn't be too hard. I left my light on when I left.

Finally reaching the roof, I realize just how wrong I am. I hear voices in the back of the bakery. The heavy baritone and Latin accent.

Careful to stay away from the edge of the roof, I watch Mr. Lopez hand Ulysses a paper. It's a roughly drawn map of the outskirts of town that edges part of our property I know well. Pa-Pete used to have a lot of bootlegged liquor out that way.

"I know where it is." He sounds really angry when he hands the paper back to Mr. Lopez. He claps the man on the shoulder. Mr. Lopez turns to Ulysses' hard profile. "Not a word. Especially to senora."

Mr. Lopez nods rapidly to the menacing words heading back into his shop. I step back just as Ulysses turns in my direction.

On quiet feet with my heart damn near about to burst from my chest, I hurry down the fire escape to my loft in case he comes back.

As soon as I slide the door open, I run over to the bed and get in. I won't fool him for a second. He's too observant. He may break my neck for spying on him, which is exactly what I bet Angel told him to do the first time.

My tummy churns. Is that why all the intensity of his renewed interest? To keep me under his watchful eye? To keep me busy on his dick, so I won't go around telling people what I saw. Probably. I fell for it too. Something deep inside of me may be always suspected, but I didn't care as long as I had him with me again. Pathetic.

I wait. I don't know how long, but he never comes. Well, I'm done being a dumbass. He may think he has my head in the clouds, but I'll be damned if I let him get away with doing what his family has been doing since they first set foot on this soil — hurting people.

I get out of bed. Bolt my door with the new double lock Oz installed when he and my other cousins set my place back to rights after the vandalism.

Switching out my white bakery uniform, I pull on a long-sleeved Henley, black jeans, and all black sneakers. Grabbing my copy of Pa-Pete's keys, I climb down the balcony railing jumping to the ground.

Luckily, it's dark and tomorrow is a workday for most folks around here, so I don't encounter anyone on the way to my grandparents' house.

Slipping into the cab, I notice the light popping on right before Pa-Pete leans out with his shotgun brace over his chest.

"Hey there, handsome. It's just me. I need to make a run for some flour that didn't come in on time."

He nods. "Be careful. We've had some trouble with some rogue El Diablos."

"Say what?" I stop knowing I can't move anyway. Is this a warning from Angel? "Why are they bothering y'all?"

"Easy done got mixed up with Angel, the president. Oz almost blew his face off, but she stood up for him right in there. Seems they got secret married — El Diablo style." He nods toward his house then looks back to me with a look of helplessness I've never seen on his face before this very moment.

"I'll bring the truck back as soon as I can," I tell him, knowing just how hollow and hopeless I sound.

"Keep it as long as you need it, honey." He waves, heading back into the house.

The heaviness in my chest is still there as I turn off into a darkened thatch of the woods surrounding the warehouse where I see Angel's chopper and Ulysses' Sheriff's cruiser and what looks to be a black G-Wagon.

Men go in and out of the warehouse. I need to get closer. What are they hiding? What are they unloading? I don't see any people being loaded into any of the vehicles.

So caught up in the view I'm straining to see, I hear a rustle and nearly jump out of my skin.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" Saban, one of the El Diablo girls asks, her braids pulled back into a huge bun at the nape at the back of her head. Our hair is the only difference. She's dressed the same as I, in all black. Well, one more difference is the black camouflage she's used to deflect the moonlight.

"Same as you obviously," I say, looking back at the warehouse.

"You know what they're doing out here?" I ask.

"If I did, I wouldn't be here, merdé." I quirk my brow at her. I don't know what that French word is, but it sounds like a lot of sass.

"Watch your mouth, lil' girl." Pulling my flask out, I take a swig handing it to her before pulling it back. "You twenty-one yet?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. The way she takes my bedazzled flask to the head, I can tell she's a veteran when it comes to liquor.

"I can get us closer." Motioning for me to follow her she disappears into the woods.

"We can go in now," Saban mutters. The chill of the night is eating through my clothes.

Not even from this vantage point could we see inside of the warehouse. That does nothing to alleviate the piercing dread spreading over me. I hear voices. They are muffled. People are in there. Probably kids as well.

"Come on." This girl is clever. She brought us right up to the building with none of the lookouts being the wiser. I wonder at her ability to evade notice but now is not the time to question her. Not that she'd tell me anyway, El Diablo is her family. Angel's sister, Lourdes, is her bestie. Plus, the intensity and hurt she hasn't been able to hide as she watched Snake, El Diablo's second-in-command as he left on his bike, is not lost on me.

She makes quick work of the lock. She pulls a black knit cap over her head. "Here. I always keep an extra." Handing me the twin, she waits until I pull on the cap. We pull our hoodies up to cover the remainder of our hair and head in.

Taking row after row of kid in, one thing I know for sure is — I hate Ulysses the child trafficker Shelby with every fiber of my being. May he bust hell open with gasoline drawers on.

"Merdè." This time the word holds so much horror. I know I'm not alone in my feelings. The children ranging from toddler to young adult lie as still as possible in their beds. As if they are scared to even move.

"What are they doing to these kids?" The plaintive tone in my voice has Saban turning on me with a wrathful gaze.

"I'm sure the same thing they did to y'all in that home I heard you burned to the ground." Acid drops from her voice. It's not directed at me but to those who betrayed these kids. I don't need to hear her story to know it. His past is as dark as mine.

"The fact that he could be part of this after—" she cuts herself off with a bitter laugh and shake of her head. "Estipid."

"We have to get them out of here," I say when we get to the rear of the rows of beds. There is a door here and a light spilling under the door.

Pushing the door open, I see the two rows of beds. Girls are lined up in two groups of four on either side of the room.

The light is low, but one of the girls is sitting up in the bed. She rushes to tuck the book under her pillow.

"Senorita," I say going over to her, lifting my mask so she can see what I hope looks to be a friendly face. "No halbla inglais," she says before I can ask questions. She looks frantically around like she's afraid one of the other girls is going to snitch on her to their captors.

This is how they divide and conquer. Make them distrust one another, solidifying their power and control over their lives. I lived it way longer than I should. Bishop Smith would use the most basic of freedoms or favors to get kids to reveal any resistance amongst the ranks. Kerania's and my intuitiveness about each other made his efforts futile, which was why he chose more brutal tactics each time.

"Good, since we're speaking Spanish," Saban cuts in and starts a rapid set of questions that I have a hard time catching up with.

"Slow down, I'm not as fluent at you." Nudging her shoulder, I turn to whisper in her ear. "And calm the hell down. If you speak with authority, they will think we have the authority to help them." She turns back to the kid. "Who did this to you?" Saban nods toward her form in the bed.

"The men who brought us over here and then the men when we got here." She picks down at the covers with trembling fingers, not wanting to meet our eyes. Like their fucking shame was hers. I want to kill all of them.

"T-then." She wipes her running nose. I reach over to the bedside that has a box of tissues for her and the girl opposite to share and give it to her. After she finishes, she looks at us with a determination. "They raped us. Then the sheriff brought the doctor to get the babies out."

Still, as a statue, I listen as she recounts more of the horrors they've had to endure. "It was the guys in devil vests," one of the other girls chimes in when more of the girls become brave enough to tell us their stories.

"We are going to get you out of here today." Pulling out my phone, I call the only person with as much power as the men who secretly run this town, since all the ones here, including the evil motherfucker I gave my body to is as mean as they come.

"LL, there is something I need you to do right now, no questions. Just actions." The line is silent for a moment. I swallow. I never ask for help. Never accept it when it's offered. I wait for him to pick his jaw off the floor.

"Anything for you, Kandie-girl," he says. I don't know if the hesitancy is from the hour I'm calling or the awe that I'd dare ask anything.

He remains silent as I inform him of the location and the situation of the kids. If anyone can handle this, it's him. He lives and work as a Civil Rights attorney in Montgomery and makes headlines with high-profile cases against corporations. He's one of the main forces behind my family's power. Stopping the Shelbys from trying to encroach on our land and lives just like his father and grandfather before him.

"Y'all need to lie low for the time being while this all gets sorted," he says when I'm done.

"Planned on it." I nod, even though he can't see me.

"Get Easy away from that motherfucker." His cold words cut through the line.

"Say less." Hanging up, I turn to Saban.

"Hey." I turn back to the group of teens who are all looking at us with hope. I guess they were able to piece together my conversation with LL despite my dialect and their lack of fluency.

"Soon there will be people coming. It will be scary and they will probably have guns. They are not going to hurt you. They are going to take you somewhere safe and help you find a safe place to live." Looking at each of them, I speak in clear though imperfect Spanish.

"You must claim asylum as soon as you see the officials. Keep saying it until the attorney says your paperwork is filed." Saban takes over and repeats everything in French creole for the few Haitians among the group. After a few more minutes of answering questions and a few hugs of thanks, we leave.

"We have a clubhouse in the back of my cousin, Mimi's house where we used to play when we were little. It used to be the color of buttercups, but now it's a little faded. Meet me there," I tell Saban, watching her pull her bike out of the underbrush where she hid it.

"Do you need to go back for anything?" I watch her swallow. Her eyes are swimming with unshed tears.

"Non." Shaking her head, she brushes a few stray leaves from the seat. "Everything was his or given by him." Turning away from the pain in her eyes, I feel like a coward. I know the same pain she's experiencing. Finding out the person you put so much trust in is a fucking villain is never an easy thing to understand. We knew who they were. They never pretended to be good. But kids? Ain't no way I'm going to allow that. Seeing those kids like that threw me right back to Bishop Smith's home, what they did to a lot of those kids and almost did to me. That kind of powerlessness and fear never leaves you. It's always been just beneath the surface. The least little scratch making me bleed with the pain and loss that time of my life etched deep into my soul. I won't let these kids suffer any more than they already have.

I won't stop until I see Angel and that blond bastard burn.