Chapter One
It wasa busy Friday night and, God, it couldn’t end fast enough. I had already been pinched, grabbed, and leered at more times than I could count. So, really, it was a typical Friday night at the Swallow. Like the bird swallow. But being a mostly gay bar in New Orleans? Yeah, you can fill in the rest.
My best friend, Jensen, and I were the only ones working the bar because, yet again, Brody had been a no show. If he weren’t sleeping with Nick, the owner, his ass would have been fired months ago. His bubble butt and lack of a gag reflex seemed to be good job security for the asshole. Hell, more power to him, if that was what worked. As far as I was concerned, you had to do what you could to survive this life, so I wouldn’t begrudge the dude for it. I just really wished to hell we had some help on a night as crazy as this one.
It was closing in on one in the morning and the time for my break when Brody’s perky ass finally made an appearance. He had a fresh bite mark on his neck and a fucked out look on his face when he came out of Nick’s office. So, yeah, I guess he had been working his shift. Or Nick’s shaft, I thought and had to laugh at my own joke.
He looked okay to hold down the bar with Jensen, so I shuffled out the side of the bar and made my way down the hall, heels clicking on the concrete floor, and out to the back alley for a quick smoke. The heels on these boots were four inches of torture to work in, but they did wonders for my ass in these jeans, so I suffered for my fashion. Plus, even with the pinches and grabs, I made great tips. Even if I did get shit from some drunk assholes about my makeup andgirly clothes,I wasn’t changing. Fuck them, I looked fierce, and I wouldn’t apologize to anyone for who I was.
As I pushed the door open and the smell from the Quarter hit me, I told myself I really needed to quit smoking. It was a habit I’d picked up from a past boyfriend. The fucker hadn’t lasted three months before he started giving me shit about the way I dressed, but the smoking had hung around for years. Go figure. It did help to calm my mind though, and nothing else ever seemed to help settle me as much as this.
I exited the alley door and settled into my usual spot, partially hidden between the door and the dumpster. I checked the wall for fresh stains, and not seeing any, I leaned my back against the wall, bent my left leg, and propped my foot up, then pulled out my cig for the night. I lit up and slowly pulled the smoke in, holding it for a few seconds and then releasing on a count of ten. This, this right here was my release. I never drank and had never touched an illegal substance. I had enough problems in my twenty-seven years. I sure as hell didn’t need an addiction or jail to add to it. Sure, nicotine was an addiction, too, but it couldn’t get me arrested or send me down a spiral to either rehab or the cemetery. Well, not soon anyway.
As I finished my first outward count and enjoyed the calm that was finally taking over my chaotic brain, I noticed how quiet the alley seemed tonight. There were always stragglers out here this time of the morning, but as I peered around the dumpster, looking up and down the narrow passage, I noticed there were only two souls out here now. They were up against the opposite wall further back into the alley in the shadows, so I really didn’t want to look any further. The boys who worked the bar scene sometimes came back here to conduct their business and, the same way I felt about Brody, who was I to judge what you had to do to get by. If that was what worked for them? More power brothers.
I was about to let the guys finish their business when I noticed the bigger guy pull his fist back and drive it viciously into the smaller man’s face.Holy fuck!His head snapped back so violently that it bounced off the brick wall behind him and he crumpled like a rag doll down onto the trash-strewn ground and didn’t move. Jesus Christ, what the hell was going on?
I was just about to step out and see what the fuck when the big guy started shaking his hand and cursing down at the kid. His deep voice boomed down the alley.
“Fucking piece of shit boy cunt like you is never going to tell me no. You don’t deserve to live if you can’t remember your place, you little bitch!”
Then he pulled his booted foot back and kicked the unconscious kid so hard he was pushed through the garbage on the ground and slung back into the wall again. The kid didn’t even make a sound. Fuck, I hoped he wasn’t dead. There was something not right about the big guy, and I seriously did not need to get involved in a murder.
I decided to hightail it back inside and call the cops to report a disturbance in the alley. They’d check on the kid, and I could stay out of it. It might sound harsh, but the law in this town wasn’t something you wanted to have notice you. I’d heard rumors and stories of corruption and worse. I did NOT need the hassle.
I started to back my way up toward the door to make my escape, but my heel caught on a broken bottle and I tripped, hitting my shoulder on the dumpster, sending a loud boom echoing down the narrow space between the buildings. So much for being fucking quiet. And fucking hell that had hurt. I massaged my shoulder and prayed the big guy would get spooked and run when I heard heavy boot steps making their way towards my end of the alley. Fucking great!
When the guy rounded the dumpster and locked eyes with me, my heart dropped into my heels, and my mouth dried up to cotton because I recognized him immediately. Oh, my Lord Jesus, it was Marcus Dewberry, resident drug dealer and respected member of New Orleans’ finest. This was so fucking bad. It wasn’t clusterfuck bad or apocalypse bad, no this was way beyond any of that. If there was one dude in this entire town you did NOT want to know you exist, this was the guy. I had avoided him at all cost my entire life, and now, here I was alone with the psycho in an alley after witnessing him probably killing a kid. Jesus Fucking Christ, why hadn’t I given up smoking like I promised my Gram I would?
Marcus stalked up to me and slammed me back against the wall I had been propped on before. Then he gave me a malicious up and down leer and put his hand around my throat.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the resident sissy, Ethan O’Leary. Mmmm, you’re even prettier up close and personal like, aren’t you?”
Marcus leaned into me until he had full body contact from the hand on my throat to his body pressing into my thighs. I could feel he was rock hard, and he ground his hips into me and pressed me back into the wall so hard with his barrel chest it was hard to breathe. He leaned in like he was about to kiss me and fuck no, that was not about to happen. I turned my head to the right just in time and his moist lips hit my cheek. He laughed like we were playing a game. I guess he was, but this situation was all kinds of serious for me at this point.
Thwarted from his kiss, Marcus licked his tongue up my face, leaving a slimy, wet trail from my jaw up to my hairline. The moist line cooled on my skin and sent a sickening shiver down my spine. Marcus felt the shiver and laughed while grinding into me a few more times, then leaned in so I could feel his hot breath on my ear.
“I know all about you, femme boy. You don’t think I know who you are, but I’ve been watching you for years, with your heels and your skirts. You’re hard to miss, beautiful. I’ve just been looking for my opportunity to get you on my string and lookie here. Now, I got you.”
I was shivering so hard now my teeth were chattering. I didn’t want to be on this man’s string. Oh fuck, no! He was still breathing into my ear now, but then buried his nose into my neck and pulled in a whiff.
“Mmmm. You even smell like a girl, don’t you, sissy?”
He pulled his face back and looked over mine for a second, then let my throat go and went to unbuckle his jeans.
“Get on your knees, pussy, and you can suck me off for a start.”
He went to push me down to the ground when the door to my right banged open, startling both of us into motion. I moved towards the door away from the rapist cop, and Marcus backed away from me, fucking finally. With no meaty hand at my throat and no more chest pushing the air out of my lungs, I could finally breathe again. I stared at the guy who had unwittingly become my savior.
Seeing he had an audience, the drunk frat boy smiled sideways and held up his hands, palm out, in apology.
“Dude, sorry, man, just needed to take a piss and the shitter’s full. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, a little croaky from the pressure I’d had on my throat just now. “Um, I was just about to go back inside when you came out. My break’s over.”
I looked over my shoulder to see if Marcus would say anything but was surprised to see he had lit out. I had no doubt I’d be seeing him again soon. As I surveyed the alley for signs of Marcus hiding and waiting to pounce once frat went back inside, I noticed the kid was still crumpled on the ground. Damn, that couldn’t be good. I had to do something. I walked down and felt for a pulse. Thanking all that was holy, the kid wasn’t dead.
Frat had finished with his business, packed his junk away, and gone back into the bar when I finally made my way back. He was a big guy, over six feet and built solid. I needed help picking up the kid, and he was the best, well the only, candidate. There was no way I could pick the kid up by myself, especially in these shoes.
