Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) Read online

  His breaths started coming out in raspy pants. He broke the kiss and placed his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes. He slammed his arse down on my cock so hard I saw stars. I yelled out and grabbed his arse in a bruising grip, trying not to come, wanting this to last longer. He stilled, the look he gave me almost making me blow. I’d never seen anything so sexy in my life, not even from my ex, who’d been drop-dead gorgeous. But Killer was drop-dead gorgeous too, just... Christ! I couldn’t describe the way he was looking at me. Couldn’t even think of a word, that one look short-circuiting my brain and rewiring it.

  Staring right back at him, I lifted his arse and slammed it down onto my cock, no longer able to hold back, that look, fuck, that look stripping away all of my uncertainties. I went for it, using his arse as my own personal fuck toy, the warm, excruciatingly tight grip driving me insane. Building me up, tearing me down, so good, so fucking good, yeah, yeah...

  “Fuck yeah!” I yelled, coming inside of him.

  His hole clenched, milking my cock for all it was worth. Then he was yelling out too, his voice hoarse, my name leaving his lips. Cum splashed over my bare chest, Killer shooting his load on me. Yet I didn’t care, just closed my eyes and rode out my orgasm, wishing it didn’t have to end. But like all good things, it did, my come-down arriving without invitation.

  I opened my eyes, finding Killer staring at me with tears in his eyes.

  “God, I love you.” He smashed his lips against mine, knocking my head back.

  I stiffened, those three words breaking the spell.

  Once.

  I’d only wanted to fuck him...

  ...once.

  He continued to kiss me, but not like all the bitches I’d been with. He was kissing me like my ex-wife used to. And I knew she’d loved me, even when she had to testify against me, up on the stand, describing everything I’d done to her and my eldest son. Letting everyone know about the violence I’d unleashed while drugged out on meth.

  She had loved me even then, just knew it was bad to stay with me. Knew that she had to put me in jail so I didn’t end up killing her or my eldest while methed out.

  Killer continued to kiss me like Natasha had, telling me without words his I love you wasn’t just a crush. He meant every word, every syllable, every letter.

  Knowing I’d fucked up real bad, I went to lift him off me, startling at the sound of the door buzzer. Killer broke the kiss and rose up, removing my cock from his arse. The sight tightened my chest, the full realisation of what I’d done, what I’d given into, hitting me. There was no once for Killer. He wanted an eternity I couldn’t give him.

  Killer grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips, muttering, “Don’t move. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” He disappeared out the door, leaving me sitting on the chair, with my leather pants pooling around my ankles and a very full condom on.

  Swearing under my breath, I got up and removed the condom, dumping it in the trash. I grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off, which was dribbling down my chest and abs, making a beeline for my cock. Rafael Sousa’s voice drifted through the house, stilling me. My ears pricked up, worried that I was going to get sprung.

  “I was hoping you’d be home,” Rafael said to Killer. “So, who is it today, Pain or Killer?”

  “Killer,” Killer replied. “So leave.”

  “Not happening, babe.”

  “What are you doin’?” Killer yelled out.

  “Calm down,” Rafael replied. “It’s all good.”

  “No it’s not, so stop touching me!”

  “No! I’ve had enough of this stupid game.”

  “I’m not playin’ games with you, Rafael. You know I’m not interested.”

  “You sure as hell were the other day when you were riding my cock.”

  My eyebrows winged up. Rafael was gay? Shit, I would never have guessed, the guy as tough as nails. A second later, my stupid brain clicked over. Killer had ridden my cock too, and there was no way I was a fag.

  “I didn’t ride you,” Killer replied to him. “That wuz—”

  “You,” Rafael said, cutting him off. “So quit trying to play me.”

  “I’m not playin’ you! I told’ja ’bout my condition, so piss off.”

  “No! I’ve had it with you, fucking had it. I’m moving in here or you’re moving in with me, no more discussions.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! You can’t hide behind Hemi anymore, using him as a threat. I ain’t putting up with seeing you going off, fucking other guys, while coming to my bed every so often. You’re committing to me, end of story.”

  I grimaced, not liking what I was hearing. I quickly finished wiping Killer’s cum off me and bent down to pull up my pants, wanting to tell Rafael where to get off—and it wasn’t going to be on Killer.

  “You can’t tell me what to do!” Killer yelled at Rafael. “You don’t own me.”

  “You said you love me.”

  “That wuzn’t me! Jesus! I’ve explained how I am, but you refuse to listen.”

  “Because it’s roleplay bullshit.”

  “It’s not, it’s real.”

  “No, what’s real is you and me.”

  Something banged in the next room as I zipped myself up. “Don’t touch me!” Killer yelled out.

  The sounds of a fight broke out, cut off by a loud thud. Killer yelled again, this time sounding hurt. I bolted out of the bathroom, taken aback by what I was seeing. Killer was on the floor, lying flat on his back, naked as the day he was born, with Rafael on top of him. Rafael was pinning Killer’s arms down, not caring that he was hurting Killer’s gunshot wound. Although Rafael was a few inches shorter than Killer, he was much more powerful, not to mention dangerous as a panther, the black leathers swathing his body making him look it too.

  Hollering with fury, I rushed at the Brazilian fucker. Rafael’s head snapped up, his brown eyes betraying his shock at seeing me. But it was too late for him to do shit, because I was already kicking him off Killer, ripping out a pained yell from his lungs. I stepped over Killer, ready to stomp on Rafael, but the bastard rolled away faster than I could raise my boot. He flipped backwards in a twisting motion, the man a capoeira champion. He raised his arms in self-defence—or attack mode, because the muscles in his biceps and the tendons in his neck were tensing, readying for a fight. He was a vicious-looking sonofabitch, the scar across his nose and left eyebrow razor sharp.

  “But you’re straight,” he said, sounding shocked.

  “As a fuckin’ arrow, while you’re a bloody rapist.”

  Rafael’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t trying to rape him, he attacked me. I was just getting him under control.”

  “You’re fuckin’ hard!”

  “What did you expect? He’s naked.” His eyes dropped to my crotch.

  “Keep your eyes on my fuckin’ face!”

  His eyes snapped back up to me, his expression hardening. “You fucked him, didn’t you!”

  He took a threatening step towards me, though he looked in pain, my kick obviously having done some damage. A weakness I could take advantage of. Regardless, I needed to be careful, because he was extremely dangerous. I’d seen him fight with a bone poking out of his arm, the adaptable bastard ending up destroying his opponent with his powerful kicks. He wasn’t just a capoeira champ, he was a street and cage fighter.

  Killer pushed to his feet, standing between us. “Back off, Rafael.”

  The anger in Rafael’s eyes flared. “Finally got the bone you’ve been panting for, you cheating puta.”

  “I can’t cheat on you if I’m not with you,” Killer spat. “So, fuck off!”

  “No! You need to listen up, Killer, and listen real good, because you’re playing with fire here. He’s toxic. He’ll ruin you like he did his wife.”

  My eyes widened. “You—”

  Killer spun around and shoved me back as I went for Rafael. “Ignore him, he’s just talkin’ shit cos he’s angry.”

  “I’m
not angry, I’m fuckin’ furious!” Rafael yelled. “I offered you the world, yet you chose that whore? You do know he only fucked you for the money?”

  Killer spun back to him. “I didn’t pay him!”

  Rafael blinked in surprise, his gaze moving to me. “You fucked him for nothing?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “It sure as hell is.”

  “I didn’t fuck him,” I said, Killer’s hurt expression like a punch to the gut. He’d given me the best orgasm of my life, yet I was denying it. But I couldn’t admit to it, it would get around. The self-proclaimed fag hater would be the laughing stock, the literal butt of everyone’s jokes.

  Rafael turned his sneer on Killer. “I can smell your cum on him, your aftershave too, yet he lies through his teeth about fucking you. Hope it bloody hurts, like you’re hurting me. And you’re deluding yourself if you think he’ll ever love you back. He’s a whore who can’t keep it in his pants. He’ll cheat on you constantly—”

  “I’m not his boyfriend,” I snapped. “I’m straight.”

  Rafael threw me a glare. “With a kink for Killer.”

  “I’m here to look after him, nuthin’ more.”

  “More like you’re here to take advantage of him.”

  “Look who’s talking! You just sexually molested him.”

  “I didn’t molest him, he’s my boyfriend. My boyfriend. And I can touch what’s mine, and if you dare touch him again, I’ll rip your diseased dick off!” Rafael hollered, finally losing his cool, his face and neck now red.

  “I’m not interested in Killer like that,” I snarled back. “While Killer isn’t interested in you, so get the fuck outta here before I rip your dick off and ram it into your cunt of a mouth.”

  Rafael returned his glare to Killer. “He’s already saying he doesn’t care about you, yet you’re kicking me out?”

  Killer grimaced, my words obviously hurting him, Rafael just sticking the knife in deeper. Because everything that Rafael had said was true. I couldn’t love Killer. All he’d been was a moment of weakness. An amazing fuck that I would never forget, one I would probably wank off to for years to come. But to actually be with him...

  Nah. He was dreaming if he thought what we’d done could lead to more. And he was most definitely tripping if he thought I’d be his boyfriend. What fucking planet did he live on? He knew me. Knew I was a cunt. That was common knowledge. It was why I didn’t do relationships. The other person always got hurt. Or worse, I got hurt. Because if that happened, I got real nasty, making sure the other person not only hurt, but fucking wanted to die.

  So, I was doing him a favour. He should be bloody grateful I didn’t want more, and be even more grateful he got a root out of me, since I was straight.

  As a fucking arrow.

  Killer turned his doleful eyes on me, making that arrow bend a little. Shit! How the hell did I get myself into this situation? I screwed for money, not lust. It was so much easier that way.

  Rafael started talking again, Killer obviously too upset to reply. “When Tane cheats on you, which will be by the end of the day, come to me. I’ll be waiting.”

  “He ain’t goin’ anywhere,” I snapped.

  Rafael sneered at me. “He will, because once he wants to play dress-up, my beautiful nut job will come running for me.” He barked out a laugh. “Actually, once Pain appears, you’ll be getting a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”

  “You hafta be in a relationship to cheat, you dumb fuck,” I snapped. “And I don’t do relationships. And what the hell are you on about with this Pain appearing shit?”

  He shook his head. “You know nothing about him, do ya?”

  I didn’t reply, just stared at him blankly.

  “Yeah, I knew it.” His tongue flicked out, licking blood from his lip. “One side of him is mine, while I have every intention of winning the other side too.” His gaze returned to Killer. “I’m only willing to wait until this phase of yours passes, because you’re worth it. But, babe, you can only push me so far before I snap.” His eyes moved back to me, narrowing. “And get rid of this diseased whore before you get AIDs or some other shit like that.” He went to leave.

  I shot in front of him, putting my face right up to his. “My dick ain’t diseased, fucker, while you’re delusional if you think Killer will drop to his knees and suck yours. He doesn’t want you, so if I see you anywhere near him again, you’re fuckin’ dead.”

  “I’d like to see you try to take me down, Tane. I would relish it as I kick the shit out of you.”

  “It wouldn’t be me gettin’ the shit kicked out of.”

  Rafael sneered at me. “You don’t have a chance against me.”

  I cocked a brow. “Then bring it on.”

  “No!” Killer yelled, pushing between us, still naked as the day he was born.

  Rafael lifted his hands to touch him.

  I yanked Killer away from him, shoving him behind me. “Don’t you touch him!”

  “You can’t tell me what to do with my boyfriend, fag hater.” His sneer grew. “I can’t wait until my baby Pain comes out. He’ll run from you so fast, he’ll be riding my cock before you realise he’s gone.” He smirked, the expression almost evil. “It doesn’t matter how much Killer pants for you, Pain will always come to me.”

  “Yeah, with my fist, so piss the fuck off!”

  He glared at me, looking like he was thinking of staying, then shook his head and exited the door, glancing back at Killer before slamming it shut behind him.

  I turned to Killer. “What the hell wuz that about?”

  He stared at me, his chest pumping up and down. “You said you didn’t fuck me.”

  “Cos I don’t want anyone knowing.”

  “But, we did fuck and you liked it, nah, you more than liked it.”

  “Stop bloody skirting my question. What the hell just happened with Rafael? He seemed to think he owns you.”

  “He doesn’t!” Killer snatched his towel off the floor. “Not me, me.”

  “What the fuck are you on about?”

  “Pain likes him, not me, but that moron thinks we’re the same person, thinks I’m playin’ him so I can fuck around. But I’m not. I’m not Pain.”

  “Of course you are. You’re Pain, Killer, Painkiller, they’re all variations of your name.”

  “No, I’m Killer, not Pain.”

  “Speak sane.”

  “That’s the problem, I’m not sane. There are two sides of me.”

  I stared at him blankly, thinking the loon had finally flipped his lid.

  “I thought Hemi told you ’bout it,” he said.

  “Told me what? Cos you’re not making any sense.”

  He grimaced. “I have a split personality.”

  5

  Clara

  I glanced out the kitchen window, where all the men had gone after dinner. They were sitting around a long wooden table, underneath a canopy of grapevines, reminding me of my trip to the Mediterranean. Dante was next to his cousin Marino, nodding his head at whatever Marino’s father was saying. The resemblance between Marino and Dante really was uncanny. The two looked so much alike I would’ve sworn they were brothers, even their mannerisms were similar. Dye Marino’s hair black, pop dark brown contact lenses in, and Voila! the two could almost be twins.

  I zeroed in on Dante, the expression on his face so serious, something I wasn’t used to seeing. In that moment, he looked nothing like the mischievous boy I knew from my classroom. He’d never paid attention like that to his lessons. It made me wonder whether I was really that bad at teaching. Or maybe Dante had been the problem, too caught up with wanting to earn money than learning. On the drive up here, he’d told me he wanted to find a job...

  ...so he could support me.

  I hadn’t liked it when he’d said that, but had kept my mouth shut, too tired from the long drive to argue with him. Nevertheless, I should be the one supporting him, not the other
way round. I just didn’t know how I was supposed to do that now.

  I shivered at the memory of Dante arguing with his father. Mr. Rata’s words had been so loud that I’d heard almost everything he’d said. Not only did he know what I’d done...

  ...the police did too.

  There was no going back now, especially since Auckland would bring either death or imprisonment, depending upon who got to me first. I just hoped that Dante’s threat to cut ties with his father had worked. I felt proud that Dante had defended me. Of how he’d stood up to his father, making him back down. But I also felt bad for turning him against the man. Still, Mr. Rata needed to understand he couldn’t solve everything with violence.

  And especially not when it involved me.

  I never intended on hurting anyone by getting involved with Dante. All I wanted was to be with him.

  “You’re off in dreamland,” China said.

  I jolted, not having realised Marino’s girlfriend was in the kitchen. I plastered a smile across my face and turned to face her, not wanting her to see the turmoil I was in.

  China pulled up the strap of her dress, which had slipped down her arm, the girl braless. She was wearing a long, flowing bohemian-styled dress, with thin straps and no shoes. She looked like she’d stepped through a time portal, coming straight from Woodstock. I could picture her dancing around to the likes of Jimi Hendricks and Janis Joplin, with flowers laced through her crazy blonde hair, a real-life flower child.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, glancing out the window. Her brilliant blue eyes lit up. “No wonder you were distracted. Our beautiful boys would distract anyone.”

  I glanced through the window at Dante, beautiful definitely the right word for him. “Dante is hard to look away from.”

  “Like my beautiful Marino.” Her smile disappeared. “Marino, Marino, Marino.” She sighed. “He’s going to be the death of me. I know he’s a criminal, but usually what they do is lowbrow, not this new stuff. Drug lords are bad news.”