Love at Carlyle's [Love on the Rocks 8: Special Edition] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  She spotted Javier first. He sat in a single seat leather lounge chair sipping a drink while three half-dressed women hung around him. She despised the fucking scumbag. He took in the sight of her and she did the same to him, hoping he saw her seething with disgust.

  He snapped his fingers and the three hos immediately stood up and walked away. Another guy led them from the room.

  “Precious, damn baby, it’s good to see you. Gavan said you were working out. Doing that kickboxing bullshit,” he said, eyeing her over. She wondered if he even realized that he subconsciously touched his nose. After all, she had broken it when he tried sexually assaulting her.

  “I can’t say the same, Javier. So where is my sister? What happened?”

  He stepped closer and she tightened up, hoping that he wouldn’t try something or she was fucked. There were more of them.

  He narrowed his eyes at her, and she stared right back at him. His attire consisted of a gray dressy shirt, dress pants in black, and some scruff along his chin but it was light. He had sort of a baby face but the bite of a pit bull. She didn’t trust him, and every ounce of her now felt like she made a mistake coming here.

  “Where is Courtney?” she asked.

  “Listen, she’ll live. Just keep that in mind, and the fact that I got good people tending to her wounds.”

  “Wounds?”

  A flash of something, maybe remorse or guilt, appeared and disappeared from his eyes. “This way.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder and led her toward another door. She shrugged his hand from her shoulder but then his large hand landed on her hip.

  When they entered the room, she saw he hadn’t lied. There were wires and an I.V. hooked up to Courtney and her battered, swollen face came into view. Precious gasped and covered her heart with her hand.

  Javier placed his hands on her hips and held her steady. “She’s alive. Just focus on that,” he said, and she pulled from his hold and slowly moved closer to the bed. As she moved to the side of the bed, she had to climb up onto the king-size mattress in order to get closer to Courtney.

  Two swollen eyes, swollen and cut lips, black and blue cheekbones, red marks on her neck, and scratches. The shirt she wore was big, and as Precious leaned closer, she could see more bruising. She didn’t look at Javier.

  “What are her injuries? Who did this to her?” she asked.

  “Precious?” She heard the shaky voice as Courtney tried talking.

  “Yes, baby girl. I’m right here. Jesus, Courtney. What happened? Who did this to you?”

  “Is Javier here?” Courtney asked.

  Precious turned her head to see where he was. Did her sister not want him to hear her say something? Was she so dependent upon Javier that she needed him right there next to her? It made Precious feel sick.

  “Yeah, baby. Right here,” Javier said and approached the other side of the bed.

  Precious swallowed hard. The fucker was just sitting in a chair surrounded by tramps a few minutes ago. What the hell kind of relationship, if any, was this between Courtney and Javier?

  “I was so scared, Precious. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was dead, and then I wished I was,” Courtney said and sobbed.

  Javier reached over and caressed her thigh over the blanket. Courtney tightened up and moved as if the touch bothered her.

  “Sorry, baby,” he said to her and then looked at Precious. “She’s bruised all over. They did things to her.”

  Tears filled Precious’s eyes. “What things?” she asked.

  “He wanted to send a message to me, so I would know he meant business.” Javier reached up as he spoke and pushed a strand of hair from Courtney’s cheek. Courtney’s eyes blinked several times.

  “It isn’t over,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

  “Who is this guy? Are you telling me he raped and beat you?” Precious asked, and her voice cracked. This was her little sister. She sacrificed so much for her.

  “He did. He…he told me next time his men would be there to rape me, too, and then he would send me back to Javier in a body bag,” Courtney told her and cried harder.

  “Shhh, it’s over now Courtney.”

  “You didn’t bring her to a hospital, or report this to the police?” Precious asked, her mind going into a thousand directions. Who was the man that did this? What did he want? Why wouldn’t they call the police and press charges?

  Javier chuckled and pulled back. She narrowed her eyes at him and then Brock, who stood behind him watching her.

  “Are you kidding me, Precious? Your sister was at an organized crime guy’s home, drinking at a party, a woman recently arrested for illegal gambling who got off because of that organized crime guy. Why the fuck would she or I call the police and report it.”

  “Organized crime?” she said and her heart hammered inside of her chest. A name and face immediately popped into her head.

  “Dominick Duvou?” Precious whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Precious. I’m so sorry I did this. He is going to kill me. You have to help us. You have to.”

  She was trying to process this situation. Her mind bouncing from one thought to the other. Her fear and worry for her sister and then her words begging for help. Precious’s help.

  “What?” Precious asked.

  “Duvou was paying Courtney to work numbers and illegal betting on some big games. She got caught in a sting operation, but it cost her three hundred grand,” Javier explained.

  “Three hundred grand! Are you freaking kidding me, Courtney? Jesus, you should be fucking dead for messing with a man like Duvou.” She raised her voice and got up from the bed.

  “He got her out of jail. With his connections he got the charges dropped down to community service.”

  “So the beating and the rape was for losing his three hundred grand?” Precious asked, knowing how these men operate, and how a lowlife thug gangster like Duvou operates, as well.

  “If I don’t come up with three hundred grand he’s going to kill me, Precious. No one, not even Javier will be able to protect me.”

  She paced by the side of the bed. She was angry, shocked, disgusted.

  “You got yourself into this fucking mess because of him. Because of Javier. Why the hell don’t you get up the three hundred grand?” she yelled at Javier.

  He narrowed his eyes at her, and she knew she wasn’t being smart.

  “He doesn’t want my three hundred grand. He wants a job done. He needs a numbers person to finagle a scam he has going. It involves computers and cyber theft shit to move money from one account to another under the radar,” Javier told her.

  Now she was super pissed off. She glared at Courtney. Those big swollen eyes, array of bruises, and battered skin disappeared, and anger, insult, and distrust filled Precious. No one knew her capabilities, and even Courtney only knew some of what Precious was capable of.

  “Courtney,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I was desperate. He had the knife against my throat and I offered him your capabilities to save my life. I’m your sister, Precious. Are you telling me you won’t do this for me? To save me?”

  Guilt, a sense of loyalty to her only blood, as well as shock all filled Precious’s belly.

  “I gave my life to you. Officially as your guardian at sixteen years of age. You lay here and try to tell me that wasn’t enough? That your problems for being such a fuck-up and hanging out with such loser assholes who won’t even help you out here justifies making me feel guilty? Why should I feel guilty? Whoever said I was even capable of doing anything remotely similar to what Duvou is asking for?”

  “You can. I know you can. You have to…or he’ll kill me,” Courtney said.

  Precious stared at her as did Javier and Brock.

  “The meeting is set for tomorrow afternoon. Brock can accompany you,” Javier said.

  She looked at Brock. Fear of having to go to see Duvou and her sister’s problem now becoming hers had her so angry she was shaki
ng.

  “I’ll think about it.” She turned around and started to leave the room.

  “Precious, please. Please help me,” Courtney cried out.

  “Are you kidding me? You’ll think about it?” Javier asked, sounding outraged and looking surprised by her retort. Well, she was pissed off. This wasn’t her problem or her fight.

  “I’m not kidding. I’ll think about it, and don’t call me. Don’t send anyone by to see me.”

  “He said tomorrow or else.”

  “I suppose you, Javier, aren’t ready to kill the man for raping and beating up Courtney.”

  “Killing Duvou? Are you out of your mind? His reach is far.”

  “Exactly. So back the fuck off. I’ll think about it.” She headed out of the door and through the room where the other men were who looked at her. One licked his lips and she flipped him the bird. He widened his eyes and she opened the door then slammed it behind her. She hurried down the stairs, passed all the fuck-ups, and then went out the door to her car.

  She got in, revved the engine in her old Mustang, and took off down the driveway. Luckily the guy opened the gate in time. She was so angry she would have driven through it. She headed through the developments and onto the highway. How dare her sister place her into this position?

  She was breathing heavily, then flashbacks of her sister’s battered face and the fact that she was a victim of rape had her stomach churning. Precious had tried so hard to keep her sister on the right path. She sacrificed, put things on hold for herself to care for Courtney. Hell, she never had a boyfriend, never had sex, never let anyone close, and this was exactly why. When you care, when you love or become dependent on someone, it doesn’t matter who they are or how close you think you are to them. When the time comes, those same people you trusted fuck you. Right now, Precious was screwed.

  She slammed her hand down on the steering wheel and then felt the tears spill from her eyes. Courtney and her battered face, abused body, stupid choices, and fucked-up life were now fucking up Precious’s life. She should leave town. Get out of Connecticut and never talk to her sister again. It wasn’t like Precious had friends she would miss. Acquaintances, yes. Well, Benson was special. He was probably the only friend she had. She thought about calling him and it shocked her. She couldn’t do that. He couldn’t possibly understand this situation.

  He would tell her not to get involved. To let her sister fend for herself because of the types of people she surrounded herself with. That was another thing. Javier wasn’t acting like he even gave a shit that another man raped a woman he was sleeping with. Then again, by the looks of the tramps hanging over him earlier, it seemed Javier didn’t care. There was no commitment or respect for Courtney from Javier, or from any other man. Men used women for what they wanted and needed. If women were stupid enough to fall for their lies and smooth talking, so be it. That wasn’t Precious. Son of a bitch. Dominick Duvou? Of all the fucking people to piss off and owe money to, it had to be that asshole. Her head began to throb and she pulled into the townhouse community, then parked in her driveway. She turned off the ignition and sat there a moment.

  What am I going to do? If I go there to meet Duvou and find out what exactly he wants, then he’ll force me to do it whether I’m capable or not. If I don’t go, then I get my sister killed, and her blood is on my hands. I love her. She’s my sister, but we’ve drifted apart. She’s gone for the easy way out and is loyal to Javier, who isn’t anything but a thug. A guy who gets people to do illegal shit for him. If I don’t help Courtney, then he’ll be on my ass. He’ll threaten me, too.

  This is a no-win situation. How the hell did this happen? When do I get to live my life? To feel normal and maybe even be happy? When?

  * * * *

  “What do you think?” Brock asked Javier.

  “I think Precious will pull through. My baby knows how to work her sister over, don’t you, doll?” Javier said. He pulled down the sheets and spread Courtney’s thighs wide.

  “Javier,” she moaned out as Brock reached for her arms and held them above her head. She lifted her torso and he licked his lips.

  He stared at all the bruises. He loved how willing she was to trick her own sister for him. He owned her in every way. Could ask her to do anything and she would. He stroked her cunt as Brock lifted her top and cupped her breast.

  “She’s got nice tits, don’t she, Brock?” Javier asked and thrust his fingers in and out of her cunt.

  Brock pinched her nipples and pulled on the tiny buds.

  “Not as big as her fucking sister’s. Damn, Precious is super fucking hot. Like Playboy Bunny hot. She could be a centerfold model.”

  “Fuck yeah. I’d love to own that piece of ass,” Javier added and then pulled his fingers from Courtney’s body and got in position between her legs.

  “But this one right here is my bitch. Ain’t that right, Court?” he asked.

  “Yes. I did good, right, Javier? Right, Brock? You’ll reward me, right?” she asked. He smirked. She was going to die come tomorrow night. She was used goods. They got what they wanted from her and she sold out her sister, the dumb bitch.

  “Yes, baby. You did so good. You took your beatings well to pull off the assault. Now we’re all going to reward you. Tomorrow night, we’ll get out of debt from Duvou and that sister of yours won’t be a problem for you anymore. She’ll be too busy owing Duvou. Duvou has had his eyes on her for a while. You did good offering her services to get us out of trouble. You’re pretty smart, after all.” He snapped his fingers and the other men walked into the room. Her eyes widened and tears filled them as his buddies began to undress.

  “Javier? What?” He shoved into her to the hilt. She cried out and then moaned.

  “Game time, baby. This body belongs to me and to my friends, too. You agreed that I own you. You said anything I want.”

  Brock gripped her hair and head, tilting it back.

  “You belong to all of us.”

  * * * *

  Precious didn’t sleep a wink. She didn’t even think about work tonight at Mike’s or how she would face Benson. She would never tell a soul what she did, if she even survived it. She was trying to be smart about this situation. Her gut was tensing all night, warning her to not trust anyone. She went back and forth over the emotions she had, feeling loyalty to her sister and then feeling stupid for being loyal to her and thinking she shouldn’t trust her, too. Courtney got herself into this. She had to get herself out of it.

  She planned ahead. In the hours she should have been sleeping, she transferred money to other accounts out of town. She was really good at this. She even had a Swiss bank account and transferred most of the savings there. She packed a bag and put it in her trunk. She had cash in there, too. She kept a small amount in her savings at a bank in town. Three thousand dollars and thirty cents. She had envelopes with checks for bills for the following month written out, enveloped, and stamped. She put them in the mailbox on her way out.

  She wore dress pants with high-heeled boots and a light black sweater. She looked classy, sexy, but the pants and the boots were also a logical choice of attire in case she needed to use any self-defense moves. She was on edge. Duvou was a big shot. She took the call from her sister. If all went as planned, her sister would be out of Duvou’s debt and be free.

  She pulled her car into the parking lot of the small bar. It was owned by an associate of Duvou. Before she even made it to the main entrance, a man dressed in a suit greeted her.

  “Miss O’Connell.” She nodded. He was an average-sized man, had dark eyes, and he directed her to follow him. She did, and upon entering the bar, she noticed only a handful of patrons, or maybe they were men on Duvou’s payroll or the owners of the bar. She didn’t know, but she quickly counted heads. Eleven. Way more than she could handle. She would need to do her best to not turn this into a shit show. She felt a little uneasy about the knife in her high boots. She didn’t want to come in here naked, yet she wondered how secure the
place was and if they would frisk her. Duvou had many enemies. She wanted to avoid being on that list.

  Her hands were shaking, but she forced herself to remain cold as ice. She couldn’t show fear, or at least not a lot. A little would give a man like Duvou the respect he expected. “I need to check you for weapons first,” the man said. She was stunned.

  “I’m not carrying.”

  “I need to check,” he said, staring at her body. “Arms out, legs apart,” he ordered. The man was thorough as he patted her down, even between her legs. She gasped. He held her gaze as he continued and then slid his hands around her waist and up her back under the sweater. He was super close, and she didn’t look away.

  “Are you finished yet?” she asked with attitude.

  “I could be even more thorough,” he snapped at her, and she zipped her lips. He opened the door and she stepped into an office. There were three men in the room, one facing away from her. It had to be Duvou.

  The door closed behind her, and the guy who felt her up stood right behind her with his arms crossed. Talk about intimidation. These guys were trouble. The two other men, one on either side of the desk gazed over her body. Both carried guns—she could see them and the holsters. The man behind the chair slowly turned around. Dominick Duvou locked gazes with her and smirked.

  He was a big man. Wide shoulders, black hair, and dark brown eyes. He wore a suit shirt, tie, and lots of gold rings on his fingers. He stood and came around the desk.

  “Miss O’Connell. Thank you for joining me on such short notice,” he said, reaching his hand out. She stared at him.

  “I really didn’t have much of a choice, Mr. Duvou,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the man. After all, he raped and beat her sister. She wasn’t going to be that cordial, just enough to show respect so she didn’t get a bullet in her head.

  “I don’t see it that way. We can both make money from this, and it could be the beginning of a nice…partnership,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body. He walked closer, then around her. She felt his hand glide along her hip and then trail slightly down her ass, but he pulled away before she was inclined to turn around and slap him.