From what it sounds like, Rickie didn’t like that kids were overdosing. Maybe if I tell him I want to help stop that from happening again, he’d be less likely to kill me?
Turning my head, so he can hear me better, I say, “I’m a professor at the local college. Students have been overdosing and I want to help put an end to that.”
He pauses for a moment before his chest rumbles with laughter, grating on my nerves. “Oh really?” He spins me around, so that my ass is pressed against his cock and rolls his hips, grinding against me to the music.
My breath stutters as he brings his mouth to my neck and runs his teeth along the skin, making me feel gross and violated. I want to knee the fucker in the balls, but that’s a bullet in my skull. So I take it, I let him do what he wants if it means getting out of here in one piece.
“Yes,” I hiss out, my teeth clamped so tight I fear I might break a tooth.
“That's funny,” he murmurs against my skin. “Seeing how your daddy is the reason why all those kids are dying.”
My body stills as his words process in my mind. “What?” I shake my head. “No. No, he’s not.”
“Mhhmm, but he is. Edgar Eddy Kennedy better watch what he’s fucking doing before we’re forced to remind him just who he’s fucking with. Any more kids die on our turf, there’s going to be hell to pay."
At the mention of my father’s name, my blood runs cold.
“No,” I shout. “Whoever is doing this, it’s not him. We don’t deal in drugs. This isn’t us.”
My family is well known for a lot of things, but one thing we don’t do is deal in drugs.
My father would never dream of it. Not after what happened with my sister. There’s no fucking way. This guy has the wrong information.
“Oh, sweet sweet Beckham. You’ve been gone for a long time. There’s a lot you’ve missed. A lot you don’t know anymore.”
“And how do you know so much?” I demand. About me. About my life. About my family. I’ve never played a big part in the family business, no matter how much my father has been trying to groom me into taking over. I’ve kept to myself, tried to make myself invisible. It didn’t work then, so why the fuck did I think it would work now?
“This is my town, Omega.” he growls in my ear. “It’s my job to know every single fucking person who steps foot inside. You don’t think I’d know if the son of a mobster was living here?”
“I’m not here to cause any trouble.” I insist. “I only want to help. They were my students who died.”
“You're barking up the wrong tree,” he says. “If you want to find your bad guy, it’s not me.”
“And it’s not my dad.” I growl, spinning around to face him. “We don’t deal in drugs.”
He narrows his eyes. “I’ve been watching you. So I believe it when you have no clue what's going on back home. But I think you need to change that. I’ve let you live here, because you didn’t show any signs of fucking with what’s mine. But now, people are dying and it’s looking bad and drawing unwanted attention on me. I can’t have that happen. So here’s what you're going to do.” He grips my chin hard enough to bruise as he looks me in the eye. “You’re going to leave my fucking town and never come back. I’ll give you this one grace because I don’t believe you're a bad guy. But hear me good. If your family doesn’t back the fuck off, there will be war.” He lets go of me, shoving me backwards. “Go. Now.” He growls, pure murder in his eyes.
I don’t want to leave. I want to know more. Like why he believes it’s my father, what is the proof?
But I know if I don’t go now, I’ll never leave this building again.
So I bite down my anger and leave.
It’s not until I’m a few blocks down the street that I’m finally able to stop and think, to breathe and process what the fuck just happened.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I let out a shaky breath, tears of frustration and confusion threatening to spill.
My body shakes the whole way home. By the time I’m in my dingy little apartment, I’m a fucking mess.
I claw at my clothes like they’re smothering me as I make my way to the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as my body can handle, I get under the spray and scrub at my body, his alpha bark having left this gross feeling all over me.
My skin is red and raw by the time the water runs cold. Getting out of the shower, I change into some pajama pants and a loose shirt before crawling into my nest.
Rolling onto my side, I stare at the wall, wondering what the fuck do I do now.
What the fuck just happened?
There’s too much for my brain to process right now.
