CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Mark,” Ellie said, pointing to one of her students in the second row. “How about you? What’s your take on Mr. Poe’s ‘The Raven’? What is the underlying message?”

The blond, blue-eyed, cocky high school athlete grinned and shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Anyone else?”

Two students raised their hands, both female, as was typical. High school English didn’t seem to interest any of the males.

“Vanessa,” she said.

“Everlasting love,” the girl said. “And loss.”

Ellie smiled and nodded. Whenever a student clicked with a literary work, she felt a surge of pride.

“Do you want to elaborate further?” Ellie asked.

The girl opened her mouth just as the buzzer went off, signaling the end of class as well as the end of the day.

The entire class simultaneously looked to her for confirmation that it was okay to leave.

“Yes,” she said, waving her hands in the direction of the door. “Go, go, go. Have a great weekend.”

The mad rush to the door always amused her. Reminded her of her own high school days when she was the lone person loath to leave. She loved school, always had; that had never changed.

Sitting down at her desk, she began shuffling through papers in an attempt to organize the mess.

“Ms. Tate?”

Glancing toward the doorway, she found the principal, Adele, standing there looking uncomfortable, and she fought the urge to giggle.

“Yes?”

“Just wanted to check in and see how your first week went.”

Ellie gave her a genuine smile. “Amazing,” she answered honestly. “I really love it here.”

The woman shifted uncomfortably. “I, uh, er…will your boyfriend be picking you up every day?”

Now Ellie was really holding in her laughter. Whatever Dirty had said to her that had convinced her to offer Ellie the open position, it obviously hadn’t been very pleasant. The woman was downright terrified of him.

It wasn’t that Ellie had approved of his methods, but she was sure grateful for them. Her mother had taken another turn for the worse and Ellie wanted to stay by her side, rather than leave and miss out on much-needed time, as well as help her father out with the hospital bills that were quickly piling up.

It hadn’t been easy, adjusting to living in the same town as the man who’d tried to rape her. But whatever Deuce had said to him, whatever deal had been worked out, Daniel hadn’t come near her. At first, on the rare occasion that she’d gone anywhere without Dirty by her side and would spot Daniel somewhere in town, she immediately retreated, rushed home and straight into the shower where she would turn up the hot water until her skin was scalded.

But sometimes it wasn’t enough to erase the feeling of his hands on her. It was those days that Dirty would take her out on his bike and they would just ride, no destination, until Ellie felt clean again, in charge of her own body and free of the filth Daniel had brought to her life.

As for Dirty, in the past year he’d come so far from where he’d been emotionally.

Seated on the back of his bike, she could wrap her arms around his waist now, lean her head against his back and hold tightly to him, he allowed her that much. He still needed a few moments to adjust to her touch, would flinch every time, but it was progress.

There had even been a few instances while watching a movie together that Ellie would scoot closer to him on the couch and rest her head on his shoulder. Once, he’d even held her hand.

For the most part, life was very good. Better than she’d ever expected it to be after what had happened. She hadn’t realized how much she missed having friends until she had Danny back in her life, or how much better it was to surround yourself with people instead of books.

There was only one problem. And it was growing increasingly unbearable as more time passed.

She was desperately horny.

Lately, she spent her nights alone in her bedroom, thinking of Dirty, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it. Still, her resolve grew weaker and weaker.

They’d grown so close. He refused to let her out of his sight; he took her to work every morning and picked her up every afternoon. Some days they would eat dinner at his place, other times at her parents’ house, and on the rare occasion, they would go out.

Every day she was faced with his beautiful face, his long, lean, sculpted body, and his personality, so damaged, so fragile, she couldn’t help but want to fix him. He was a woman’s worst nightmare—beautiful on the outside, ravaged on the inside. A deadly combination.

Yet she wanted him. Fiercely.

She had never thought of herself as a typical woman, attracted to bad boys, but it was different with Dirty. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and if she were being completely honest with herself, she didn’t really care. She hadn’t felt this way about a man…

Ever.

Whatever he’d done, his life at the club, it didn’t matter. He was so good to her; he protected her, took care of her, and not once since the morning he’d inadvertently attacked her had he ever given her a reason to think she couldn’t trust him implicitly.

And now, oh dear God, her hormones went into overdrive every time she was close to him. Especially when he smiled. Those rare smiles were so few and far between that when they appeared, my God, she melted.

She didn’t have the first clue how to go about acting on it. She was terrified that if she did, she would drive him away.

“Yes,” Ellie told Adele. “Is that going to be a problem?”

The two women stared at each other until the older woman finally caved. “Not at all,” Adele said shortly and abruptly left.

Shaking her head, Ellie went back to her papers and before she knew it, an hour had passed. She had just started to clean up when she heard heavy footsteps in the hallway. Knowing Dirty was here, she quickly pushed everything into a neat pile and bent down to grab her purse. Grabbing her cell phone off her desk, she headed for the door, scrolling through her messages as she walked.

One new message.

Michael: Running late.

Confused, she glanced up and came face-to-face with the chief of police, Daniel Mooresville.

“Ellie.” He sneered and she caught the strong scent of liquor on his breath and immediately backed away. “Been waiting a long time to get you without your fucking babysitter.”

Stepping inside the classroom, he closed the door behind him. “You’ll give it up to biker scum, but not to me?”

Fear shot up from her stomach, curled around her quickly beating heart, and lodged itself in her throat. She had nowhere to run. She was on the second floor, and Daniel was blocking her only exit. She was trapped.

“Daniel,” she said, her voice shaking as she continued backing away. “Please don’t do this.”

“SHUT UP!” he roared, whipping his gun out of its holster and pointing it at her. “You made a fool out of me! Do you know who I am? How many women in this town would have killed to be in your position?”

A violent shudder wracked through Ellie’s body. She was too terrified to speak.

“Get on the floor,” he demanded.

No. Oh God, no. Please God, please don’t let this happen. This couldn’t be happening.

“DID YOU HEAR ME?” he yelled. “Get on the fucking floor!”

Ellie felt the whispers of defeat begin to settle heavily in the pit of her stomach. Swallowing hard, she set her purse and phone on her desk and then slowly made her way to the floor.

“Lay down,” he commanded as he walked toward her, and she did as he asked.

Towering over her, his weapon still trained on her, Daniel reached for his pants, and pulled open his belt.

Ellie’s vision began to swim and she tried desperately to suck in much-needed air.

“Pull up your dress.”

Trembling, sweating, yet cold with fear, Ellie reached down and pulled up her dress. As Daniel knelt in between her legs, his pants sagging off his hips, his erection already freed of his boxers, Ellie turned her head away and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

She wouldn’t fight him this time, she told herself. She would lie here and take it and then maybe it wouldn’t hurt, maybe he would let her live, maybe…

She winced as Daniel gripped one of her breasts tightly and twisted hard. His hand was between her legs now, pushing her underwear to the side and, oh my God, no, no, no…

Her teeth ground together, her jaw locked.

It hurt. She wasn’t ready for him, not at all. Her body was tense, so tightly strung, if he did manage to get inside of her, it was going to be painful.

Ellie held her breath and began to pray. She prayed to every god, in every religion she could think of. She prayed for her life, she prayed to be able to see her family again, she just continued to pray, focusing solely on prayer while Daniel cursed as he tried to push inside of her.

A loud crash sounded and her eyes flew open. Daniel’s head whipped around and the next thing she knew Daniel was no longer on top of her but flying across the classroom, taking out an entire row of desks as he went. Dirty stood above her, staring down at her, his eyes wide, his features tight, causing the veins in his neck to bulge.

“Did he?” he asked through clenched teeth. Already pushing herself up and her dress down, Ellie shook her head frantically. “No,” she said, scrambling to her feet.

He nodded. “Go,” he said darkly. “Grab your shit and go straight to my place. Right now.”

Ellie glanced over at Daniel, who was lying on the floor across the room, holding his head and groaning.

“Go!” Dirty yelled, spurring Ellie into action. She grabbed her purse and phone and ran from the room. She ran through the empty hallways, down the stairs, and burst out the front door. She ran the entire way to Dirty’s apartment.

Then she crawled in his bed, pulled the covers up over her head, and burst into tears.

Dirty was going to kill him and as awful as that was, she honestly didn’t care. What she cared about was what was going to happen to Dirty after the fact.

• • •

“I fuckin’ hate this place,” Ripper muttered, glancing at the rundown condos at the edge of town. Dirty glanced up from the ground where Daniel lay unconscious, and looked at Ripper. “We took care of everything?”

Ripper shrugged. “I cleaned up the classroom, Anger’s choppin’ the police car as we speak, and the only other motherfucker inside that school was one of the secretaries and she didn’t even bat a fuckin’ eyelash when I told her she didn’t hear nothin’, didn’t see nothin’, and didn’t know nothin’.”

“How much did you give her?”

Ripper snorted. “Too much.”

“Blowback?”

Ripper shrugged again. “Maybe. But we ain’t ever spilled local blood before. We protect our town, they know that.”

“Thanks for doin’ this,” he said, and Ripper’s gaze shot to him.

Ripper shook his head. “Brother,” he said, “if that was my old lady that fucker tried to rape, he’d already be eatin’ dirt.”

“I’m givin’ it to him slow,” Dirty gritted out. “Least I can do.”

Ripper smiled grimly and held out his fist. “You do what you gotta do, dude. Call Cox if you need help with the body. I’m gonna swing by the club a little later and let the prez know what’s up anyway.”

Dirty’s fist met Ripper’s and he nodded.

Dirty waited until he could no longer see the taillights of Ripper’s pickup before turning back to Mooresville. Cocking his leg back, he sent his booted foot straight into the asshole’s ribs.

“Wake up, fucker!” he yelled.

Air exploded from the man’s lungs in the form of a gasping groan and Mooresville’s eyes blinked open. Coughing and sputtering, he tried to turn away from Dirty, but Dirty didn’t give him a chance and immediately sent his boot again into his ribs. The fucker bounced a few feet forward and then went still.

Crossing the small distance, Dirty stepped over him and reached down to grab his shirt collar. “Open your eyes!” he demanded and Mooresville’s eyelids fluttered before finally opening.

“You gonna die now, fucker,” Dirty growled. “But first you’re gonna lie there like a fuckin’ bitch and take everything I’m gonna give you. And fucker, I’m gonna do you dirty.”

Yanking him up by his shirt, Dirty sent his fist straight into the man’s mouth. It hurt for sure, the fucker’s teeth cut through his knuckles, but it was efficient in knocking out nearly all of Mooresville’s front teeth.

Letting him fall back to the ground, Dirty sat down hard on his injured ribs, pinning him in place.

“Please,” Mooresville rasped brokenly. “Please…”

“What’s that?” Dirty said, sneering. “I can’t fuckin’ hear you?”

“Please!” the man screamed.

“Fuck you,” Dirty spat and sent his fist flying into the side of Mooresville’s face. Over and over again, he punched him as hard as he could, beating on him until he was covered in the man’s blood, unable to see straight. Until it was no longer Mooresville he was beating on.

It was himself.

Because as much as he hated comparing himself to a dirtbag like Daniel Mooresville, he didn’t have much of a choice. He was just as big of a dirtbag. He’d never spared a female who wasn’t part of his family a second thought; he hadn’t given a fuck what kind of pain he’d caused, instead he’d rationalized it. Justified it, even.

He was the worst kind of dirtbag, thinking he had a right to inflict pain on other people just because pain had been inflicted on him.

The world didn’t owe him shit. Nobody did.

He didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved nothing. Worse than nothing. He deserved every inch of what he had and what he was going to put this motherfucker through.

“You think you got a right to hurt people?” he yelled as he dragged the chief of police’s broken body toward the row of condominiums. “What gives you the motherfuckin’ right?”

Dropping him on his stomach, Dirty yanked down the man’s pants and boxers, then took inventory of his own possessions. Yeah, no way was he going to use his gun. Or his phone. He grabbed the next best thing. His blade. It wasn’t a sissy knife either; it was a serrated hunting blade, made especially for death.

“Open wide,” Dirty said, and shoved that motherfucker straight into Mooresville’s asshole. Hard. Over and over again, each time amping up Mooresville’s following screams of pain as they echoed throughout the wide-open empty space.

“Upsie daisy.” Dirty laughed, hooking his hands under the man’s dislocated shoulders. Once he had him positioned on the front steps to the condo, Dirty wrenched his mouth wide open and forced the corner of the concrete stair between his lips. Mooresville whimpered his protests but there wasn’t a bone in the fucker’s body Dirty hadn’t at least tried to break. The guy could barely breathe, let alone move.

“Good night, fucker,” he said.

Then, holding him in place, Dirty lifted his boot and, as hard as he could, slammed it down on the back of his skull.

Standing up and with shaking hands, Dirty lit up a cigarette and pulled out his cell phone.

Cox answered on the first ring.

“Got a problem,” he said around a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah?” Cox asked. “Whatchu need?”

“Special sauce.”

“Where you at?”

“Mama Vi’s.”

“Be there in twenty.”

Dirty shoved his phone back in his cut and looked down at his bloody boot. Lifting up his foot, he wiped the gore off onto Mooresville’s body.

“Be seein’ you in hell, fucker,” he said. Hocking up a wad of phlegm, he spit it out onto the back of the man’s broken skull. “And you best believe you’ll be gettin’ another beat-down when I do.”

• • •

Ellie’s stomach was churning, her head was pounding, and she was so high-strung her anxiety had reached volcanic levels, that when she heard the jingle of keys against the door, she fell face first onto the floor when she attempted to scramble out of bed.

“Jesus,” Dirty muttered. Hands gripped her arms and she was hauled to her feet.

Ellie choked on her surprise as she took in Dirty’s disheveled, dirt- and blood-covered clothing. Her gaze dropped to his blood-covered hands and his swollen, split knuckles.

“Michael,” she whispered. “Did you…”

Tears formed in her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t kill him,” she finished quickly, praying to God that he hadn’t.

His eyes met hers. “I killed him,” he said without an ounce of remorse. In fact, he looked angry, like he wanted to kill the man all over again. “He ain’t never gonna be found, baby, and you don’t gotta worry anymore about him comin’ after you.”

“The whole town is going to be looking for him,” she whispered, her body filling with fear. “You’ll go to jail. They will take you away from me and you’ll go to jail and it will be all my fault. Oh my God, this is all—”

Dirty’s mouth slammed into hers with such force that she would have flown backward if he hadn’t been holding her arms.

Ellie’s surprise was short-lived. She wanted this, she wanted this badly, so when his tongue roughly thrust past her lips, she’d already forgotten entirely what she had been talking about.

“Nobody is takin’ me away from you,” he growled against her mouth.

Ellie found herself suddenly spun around and Dirty’s front pressed against her back. His hands gripped the collar of her dress. “And that motherfucker ain’t never gonna be found,” he finished, then yanked. Buttons flew through the room, pinging off the furniture and walls as her dress split wide open.

Large hands gently cupped her bra-covered breasts and she trembled through her next breath. “I have to have you, baby,” he said, pressing his erection into her backside. “I can’t take it no more, but I gotta do this my way and I need you to do exactly as I say.”

Ellie’s need for Dirty had overridden her fear of what could happen if she and Dirty were ever to become intimate awhile back. She simply didn’t care anymore. She wanted him that badly. More in fact now that she knew what he was capable of. He had just killed a man. Beaten him with his own two hands. For her. All for her.

Never in her entire life had she dreamt she would ever be in the center of such events, or turned on by them, let alone falling in love with a man…like Dirty.

Her dress was pulled from her arms and just as quickly her bra was tossed across the room. Moments later, Ellie was naked, facedown on Dirty’s bed and he was behind her, holding her hips, pressing against her, pressing into her.

She whimpered her frustration. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him again; she wanted to hold tightly to him when he slid inside of her. But she would take it. She understood. She’d seen firsthand his fragility, his fears, and she knew how desperately hard this was for him, so she would do it his way.

Except, suddenly she could no longer feel him behind her. Pushing to her knees, she turned around and found him kneeling by the edge of the bed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I can’t do it,” he choked out, his words frantically spoken, his eyes wide while his head shook wildly. “I can’t do it.”

Instinctively wanting to comfort him, Ellie reached for him and found herself immediately shoved backward. Startled, she glanced up at Dirty, who was towering over her and glaring. “Don’t touch me,” he bit out.

Tears burned in her eyes as she nodded. “I’m sorry,” she whispered tearfully.

Dirty’s already wild eyes flashed with an unidentifiable emotion and suddenly his fists were clenched and his nostrils flared with heavy breaths. He appeared to be warring from within and it looked to Ellie like his personal demons were winning.

“It’s okay,” she said, trying her best to mask her shaking voice with a soothing tone. “We don’t have to do anything.”

His eyes flared even wider and Ellie shrunk backward.

“I HAVE TO!” he roared, his face turning red with rage. “I FUCKIN’ HAVE TO!”

The next thing she knew, he grabbed her calves and pulled her legs apart. His hips surged forward and—

Ellie sucked in a startled breath of air as he filled her body. He wasn’t a small man, not at all, and it took more than a moment to adjust to his size.

Dirty stared down at her, looking no better than before, shaking, his eyes burning with both emotion and tears. She powered through her need to comfort him through touch and just lay beneath him, their bodies joined but neither of them touching the other, neither of them moving. Just staring.

“Fight me,” he suddenly whispered.

Ellie’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Fight me,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “Bitch, please.”

Oh God, this had been a bad idea. He wanted her to fight him. She couldn’t fight him, it was too much like what had happened between her and Daniel and she wanted…

She wanted Dirty.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “But I don’t know what to do.”

• • •

Fight him.

Aw shit, he was begging. Begging like he’d done as a child. Begging for love from his twisted cunt of a foster mother, begging for food and money, begging because those sick fuckers had liked it when he’d begged. Anger rose inside of him, anger and hatred and self-disgust.

And then…

He could see the unease, the panic, in Ellie’s expression, and as much as he hated being the reason for any negative emotions within her, a sense of familiarity and comfort enveloped Dirty. He was disgusting. He was motherfucking repugnant. Ugly. Unwanted. There was nothing, not one goddamn thing, appealing about him.

Inside Ellie, his dick began to throb.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But I don’t know what to do.”

Dirty closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to go forward. He was inside her, and he wanted so badly, no, he needed so badly to fuck her and yet he was frozen inside his own fear.

Ellie’s hips suddenly jerked in an attempt to dislodge him and his eyes flew open and his body spurred into action. Gripping her thigh, he brought her back, fully sheathing himself once again. Then he slapped his hand down over her mouth, pulled his hips back, and again seated himself. His body shuddered through the adrenaline rush inside of him.

“You get it now?” he asked quietly.

Trying to breathe but unable to, she nodded wildly against his hand. Her hands flew to his wrist and she began pulling and clawing, trying to remove his hand.

The second he released her mouth, she didn’t even bother taking the time to refresh her lungs. Her arms shot forward, gripping handfuls of his shirt, and her feet hooked around his calves as she tried to shove her way out from beneath him.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

Grabbing a handful of her thick black curls, he yanked her head to one side. “Fight harder,” he growled, increasing his hip thrusts. She stopped fighting and started sucking in air, her tense body trembling.

“FIGHT ME!” he roared.

She did.

She fought him hard and ended up getting a couple good clips in, some skin-breaking bites. She fought him with everything she had until, finally, nearing the end, she was crying, not out of pain but out of frustration, and he decided that was good enough.

It was a heady feeling, power. Exhilarating. Power over the same sex who’d stripped his power away from him when he was only a boy. He needed it as much as he needed to breathe, and he’d been stupid to think he’d ever be able to have a sexual encounter with a woman any other way. He’d been stupid for thinking he’d be able to manage it. Even with Ellie.

And when he was done with her, after he’d left her body and fell onto his back beside her, he turned his head and watched her. Naked, still lying on her back, unmoving except for the heavy rise and fall of her quivering breasts, Ellie stared up at the ceiling.

“Ellie?” he whispered, fear rising in his gut. She was going to leave him now. She was going to run from him. No woman, especially not a smart and beautiful one, was going to willingly deal with him.

But instead she surprised him for the hundredth time. When she turned her head in his direction, he winced, seeing the tears in her eyes.

“Hold me,” she said hoarsely, her tone pleading. “And let me hold you.”

His eyes widened.

“Please, Michael,” she continued. “I can do…what you want, but you have to give me something in return.”

When he said nothing, his mind a frantic mess, Ellie was suddenly curling her body around his, laying her head on his chest and cupping the side of his face with her hand.

He went rigid. Refusing to touch her, he locked his jaw and tried to breathe.

This was Ellie. It was Ellie. His beautiful, sweet, loving Ellie, who had the very best laugh in the entire world.

Slowly, very, very slowly, he lifted one arm and almost gingerly laid it over her bare back.

His eyes closed. Fuck-ing-hell. Her skin was so damn soft. Without even realizing it, his fingertips dug gently into the extra weight at her side, and before he knew what was happening, he had both arms around her and was holding her tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, squeezing her tighter.

Her head tilted and her big blue eyes caught his gaze. “Never be sorry for who you are,” she whispered. “That man saved my life. Twice.

“And,” she continued, “I’m falling in love with him.”

Dirty’s throat closed up. This wasn’t happening to him, not really, because it couldn’t be. Not after a lifetime of misery, not after everything he’d done. No fucking way, he didn’t deserve this, not even a little.

But he wasn’t going to give it up either.

No. Fucking. Way.

He would lie, cheat, steal, and kill to keep this. To keep her.