Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Raider

The beautiful doll grew up while I was locked away.

It’s stupid to be hurt that she doesn’t remember me, considering the single time I laid eyes on her, I was hidden behind the tinted windows of my car. I’m a big, scary-ass motherfucker, so if we’d met, she’d remember. No way in hell she’s going to forget me now that I’ve rubbed her pretty hair on my cock. Yeah, that’s definitely an introduction that sticks.

Another man might be embarrassed over that kind of behavior, but I’m just glad we got my intention to fuck her silly out of the way. I’m going on three years without a woman, and this doll had the nerve to grow up into a living, breathing wet dream. The fates were laughing when they put her in my path tonight, because neither one of us ever had a chance.

I’m standing in the doorway of her bedroom, barely checking the impulse to lock us both inside, rip off those baggy pants and ride her rotten. Believe me, I don’t give a fuck if her brother hears the whole damn show. The only thing holding me back is her tiny, cramped twin bed. Cut myself in half and I still wouldn’t fit. I suppose I could bang her standing up or bent over, but…maybe, just maybe I’ve got a thread of decency left inside me, because I’d hurt her that way.

And no one hurts the doll.

Before I went away, I made sure to put the fear of God into Roger and all his shithead pals, warning them that touching her equaled death. Made sure they knew I wasn’t taking the fall for any of them, too. Nope. One look at Delilah through those tinted car windows and I was affected enough to take every ounce of blame when my job with her brother went south. Leaving her alone on the outside without family was out of the question. So I spent three years behind bars, waiting for my chance to come collect on the favor I did for her brother.

Consider it collected, because whether or not he coughs up the cash he owes me for the last job we did, ain’t no way in hell I’m giving her back. I am a gentleman, though, so I’m giving her two days to make that decision herself. To stay with me.

Delilah bends over to fish something out of her bottom dresser drawer, pulling the starchy material taut over her sweet tush. A hint of white panties peeks out over the waistband. My low growl makes her jump and spin around, falling back against the furniture with a loud rattle. I amend my earlier statement that I’m some kind of gentleman. I’m the furthest thing from one. I’m a horny, pissed off, criminal bastard, and she’s got the misfortune of tending to my neglected dick tonight.

“You finished packing or what, doll?” I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “We’ve got a date, you and me. And we’re three years late for it.”

Her light brows, just a couple shades darker than her hair, dip in confusion, but she doesn’t question what I said. “Where are you taking me?”

“The first time? On your back.”

She flinches, pink sliding into her cheeks, but she doesn’t exactly look horrified. Her light brown eyes drop to my zipper, her lips moving as if she’s doing math equations in her head. Or praying. “Can I bring my alligator?”

“You have an alligator.”

“It’s stuffed,” she murmurs, pointing to her bed, where sure enough, a giant, green, stuffed alligator sits, stitched lips lifted in a smile. “My mom won it for me at a carnival before she died. It’s…it’s comforting for me. And I’m probably going to need comfort after you squash me to death.”

Thinking of Delilah lying here every night, holding a stuffed alligator for comfort, is making my chest feel weird. Right in the middle. I’ve only experienced this weird wrenching feeling once before—the day I took the fall for her brother. Something about the doll being alone and sad drives me insane, makes me want to rip at the flesh covering my heart. “Stop implying I’m going to kill you.” She picks up the alligator and presses her face into the green cushiness, watching me over the top of it. Reassuring words claw the insides of my throat—I wouldn’t harm a single hair on your head—but I swallow them down. She wouldn’t believe me. Her visible terror when I walked into the house confirmed she looks at me and sees a freak, same as everyone else. “For now, anyway, you’re safe. Bring your fucking toy. Let’s go.”

I wait for her at the door, taking the backpack off her hands, stuffing the alligator under my other arm. We head into the living room, where her brother is waiting, head in his hands. His mouthy girl is long gone, and I half-expected Roger to bail, too, while his sister was packing. But it’s clear he’s worried as hell for Delilah. Worried and guilty. “I’m going to get the cash for him, sis. It’ll all be over in two days. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Roger goes to hug her, but I block his path, my blood going hot. “Mine.”

“Temporarily,” he says through clenched teeth. “Don’t forget that.”

This punk blew all his money on cocaine and tricked his house out, forcing his sister to get a job. Now he has the nerve to put a claim on her? Just thinking of her coming home tired from standing on her feet or being vulnerable at night in some shop makes me want to break his jaw. I drop the backpack and rear back with my fist, but when I go to throw the punch, Delilah is there, dangling from my arm.

“Please, don’t. Please.” Slowly, she lets go of my arm, dropping several inches to the floor. I hold my breath as she comes closer, hands lifted in peace. “We have a date, remember?” Oh. Oh shit. Her fingers glide up my chest, and I can’t—c-can’t believe she’s touching me voluntarily. It’s such a shock to the system, my breath shudders out and I sway closer, dropping my cheek to the top of her head, staring out at nothing.

“Ho-lee shit,” Roger whispers. “You tamed the beast, sis.”

“Now would be a good time to shut up, Roger,” Delilah says, a catch in her voice. Her fingertips reach the bare skin of my neck, curling into the collar. My dick jerks against the fly of my jeans, blood rushing south fast enough to make me dizzy. I groan. My pulse pounds, my mouth going dry.

I lift my head, but my neck barely works. This isn’t good. I’m in enemy territory and someone could come up behind me right now, hit me over the head with a heavy enough object and I’d be defenseless, as long as Delilah’s hands are on me. No one has ever touched me without payment first. Or some kind of leverage in place. No one but this tiny doll who’s watching me curiously from beneath curly black eyelashes. “Please don’t hurt my brother,” she says for my ears alone, dampness shining in her eyes. “He’s harmless.”

The presence of those tears makes me hunger to sacrifice myself at her feet. Maybe she doesn’t think I’m a freak. “No.” The word rumbles free. “Won’t hurt him.”

“Just take me with you.” I hear her swallow, see the nerves return to her expression. Have they been there all along? “You’re going to hurt me instead, remember?”

My raging lust is cut with bitterness and disappointment. A wounded sound tries to escape from my mouth, but I clamp my teeth down around it until my gums ache. “You think I could forget our date?” I laugh, ignoring how unnatural it sounds. Ignoring the new speculation in Roger’s eyes. There’s even some relief there, as if I’ve shown my true colors and revealed Delilah as my weakness. That won’t work. Not at all. If I don’t have fear on my side, men take advantage too easily. I wasn’t always this big. I know too well how others can prey on a man when they don’t have a healthy enough fear. That lesson was only strengthened itself in prison.

I won’t be taken advantage of with the doll in my possession. If they see me as weak, they might try to steal her back from me. No. No, I won’t allow that.

Retrieving Delilah’s backpack, I steer her toward the door, pausing to speak in her brother’s ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” With a low laugh, I slide my fingers into the soft strands of Delilah’s hair and rub them on my stomach. “Well. My version of gentle, anyway.”

“Fuck you, Raider.”

I hear the words, but I’m too distracted by Delilah’s shoulders stiffening. Too distracted by my self-disgust. This is how I repay her for being brave enough to touch me? For being loyal toward her family?

Resolve stiffens my back, and I march her out the door. There’s no help for how I am, how I look. How she sees me. The sooner she gets accustomed to an ugly bastard between her sweet virgin thighs, the better.