Bullet (Running Duke Book 1) Read online

  Blondie's gaze shifted between Trisha and me as she pulled her hands from me to rest on her hips.

  "What-the-fuck-ever," was all she said before turning around and stomping down the stairs.

  I turned to Trisha, who still looked broken, and I couldn't help but feel even more like a dick since I was perhaps the main reason for her looking so haggard. I took my keys out, let them jingle in the lock. Trisha crowded up on me as if she were afraid I'd run in and slam the door in her face. "You got five minutes, Trisha. Understand?" She nodded, but I already knew this shit wasn't going to be wrapped up so quickly.

  Chapter Five

  I unlocked the door to the efficiency apartment and let Trisha walk into the darkness first. I flipped on a light and let the small space illuminate for her observation. Her gaze raked over everything with attention to detail. The lawyer within her probably pieced together a mental verdict of me through my stuff. I leaned against the wall by the door and watched Trisha take unsure steps farther inside. She touched my paper-clustered table, running her small hand along the wood as she surveyed the lack of comfort my place oozed.

  There wasn't much furniture; Vashton had only stayed in the place sparingly in the past, and I wasn't going to buy décor for the ramshackle space. The efficiency apartment was by no means a home. A full-sized mattress with a rumpled comforter occupied most of the floor space. A little tube TV sat on a duct taped boxed against the wall at the foot of the mattress. I never used the thing; it was clearly outdated for today's technical world. The scratched-up dining table she stood next to, set adjacent to the small kitchenette, had an unmatched chair tucked under it. I'd never been embarrassed about my paltry stuff and belongings, but a small part of me wished I had something of worth that might impress her.

  "Nothing to keep you tied down to anything huh?" She glanced over her shoulder at me.

  I shrugged. "You know me; I'm always on the go. Now, you better have a good reason why I let that fine piece of ass walk away." I purposely tried to goad her into irritation. Anger was how I was used to dealing with her. The whole sad, wrecked female in front of me was blindsiding and made me uneasy.

  Trisha turned to me and crossed her arms, a sour twist to her lips. "Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your one-nighter."

  I tried to fight of a victorious grin but failed, and her frown deepened. I tucked my hands between my back and the wall. Not fully trusting myself to offer her comfort that might get tossed back in my face. Truth is, the night was ruined before I even noticed her on the stairs, but she didn't need to know that. "Four minutes left."

  She scoffed and gave me a heated look which sent a wave of arousal to my cock and a shudder down my spine. Trisha pulled the rickety chair out as if she planned to butt heads with me on the time issue. She sat uncomfortably in the chair and crossed her legs. Holy fuck. My gaze tracked up the length of her thigh until it disappeared under her skirt. Her purse strap slid down her arm and she tossed the small bag on the mattress. One elbow braced against the table, and she cradled the side of her head as she thought silently to herself. She glanced at me, probably not trusting herself with whatever words she wanted to throw my way.

  Knowing this was going to be the big bang conversation I dreaded, I headed toward the mini fridge and pulled out two beers. I twisted off the cap to one and handed it to her. She set it down on the table with disregard and watched me gulp mine down. I pierced her with my gaze after I finished. Trisha broke eye contact and scanned over an open bill on the table that had "Past Due" written in bold red letters.

  I tossed the empty bottle in the clustered trash can. "Don't be nosing around in my shit, Trish. Not all of us ex-cons can pay shit on time like you rich lawyers."

  Her eyes met mine quickly, and she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. "Just what is your problem with me, Rysten? We used to be cool."

  I couldn't help but laugh. "Where should I fucking start? I know you've had a thing for me all these years, some sort of bad boy, good girl fantasy. Hell, even when we were teens, you used to make your interest known. Don't get me wrong, I kind of dig when a chick follows me around, especially for a good fuck. But you don't want to fuck, even if you need a good one."

  She huffed loudly and shifted in the chair at my words. "Everything is so crass with you."

  "You like it. I can see you blushing and the small smile you try to hide." I met her gaze, licked my lips, and chuckled when she rubbed the back of her neck before turning her legs away from me. "Seriously though, you're asking me to do shit I walked away from a long time ago."

  She frowned as if my words made her physically ill. "Just see him one time; it's all I'm asking."

  I didn't answer, more like I couldn't respond. I walked past her without a word, snatched up the beer I'd offered her and didn't meet her gaze as she looked up at me. With a deep exhale, I dropped down on the bed and propped my back against the wall where I could watch her. She twisted in the chair to face me, but not far enough to where I could get a good view of her exposed thighs.

  "Things are not going well for him lately. I thought maybe you being there might change that." Trisha looked down at her hands, wringing them nervously in her lap. Her portrayal of Jamal's situation wasn't something I wanted to hear. She straightened as if she'd gathered up some backbone and looked me square in the eye. "Can you at least do me the favor of telling me what happened that night? I read the file, but it had been the accounts after the paramedics arrived. What happened before they got there?"

  No. Fucking hell no. She of all people didn't need to know exactly how bad things went down. I took the fall for the drug distribution charges. I took the blame for everything that happened, but it didn't change the outcome, especially for Jamal. My time was reduced because I gave up names of people later killed off by the new drug lord anyway. They didn't hesitate to put the last remaining members of Titus's crew down like fucking dogs. Tapping back into that thought soured my mood and made my chest ache, I had too much guilt on my mind. Along with rage and self-loathing, not a dark road Trisha needed to see me go down.

  I got to my feet and snatched her purse off the bed and held it out in her face. "Time's up."

  She snatched her purse but didn't stand. "You gonna push me out? You're a son of a bitch." I could not recall a single moment when Trisha cursed directly at me. Never, not even when her family blamed me for shit going south with Jamal. She remained a silent but sympathetic person in the background because she knew I had suffered as well. However grateful I was about her minimal support, now was the time to put this whole subject to rest.

  "Listen, sorry for what I said to you earlier today, but I won't be talking about this anymore."

  I watched Trisha rise to her feet. She trembled as she strolled up to me and pointed a finger in my face. "You're not the only one hurting. It's just Jamal and I, no one else cares, they all fell off the radar. There he sits, twenty-four seven, unable to be free. Locked away in a prison until he dies, and you're the one person he asks about. You're his best friend and won't go visit him, though if roles were reversed he'd see you as often as he could." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "You're selfish and a coward, and don't worry about me bothering you anymore. I thought perhaps we could have some sort of bond over this; we don't have to be alone in dealing with it." She crossed her arms and hardened her tone, "Even though you're a grown ass man, you're still a punk kid that thinks of himself."

  Her words had stung me deeper than I could have imagined. Of course, since I was already raw to the subject, I felt even more like a worthless piece of shit. She was good at making me feel like I was equivalent to a squashed bug under her heel. Trisha brought things to light that I wanted to keep buried. Maybe I was self-centered and scared like she said. Facing demons of the past was something I was sure would break every inch of my last resolve. After the madness ensued and consumed my body, there wouldn't be much left. Nothing strong anyway. I'm an ex-con on the brink of death or in high risk of returning to the pen. That
frightened me the most. After going to prison, carrying felony charges, and not rising any higher than the life status I'm at now, my inner strength was all I had left.

  But Trisha with baggage so similar to my own was like a cancer I needed to free myself from. I wanted to cut her out of my life for good, but for some reason I couldn't. Any false bravado I had about everything being okay was gone. Nothing was okay. I was a mess, she was a mess, and we were fucked up together over the past. Yet, Jamal was the one thing tying us together and perhaps it could make us stronger. Trisha was probably right; we were bonded by this no matter what. I chose to push her away, and for what? Being lonely every night, drinking and fucking the past away. I always woke up with the same damn demons. Damn it all to hell.

  Running from the past solved nothing because it always caught up to me.

  In fact, along with the past, a vital part of my future stood before me now. She seemed to be offering herself to me with all this bonding talk. All I had to do was reach out and take her. The thought of companionship was so intoxicating, and it lured me into leaning in closer. I touched her soft face and her eyes closed and her lips parted. My tentative touch broke some invisible rubber band binding her heated emotions within.

  We were complete opposites in every way, but we were tangled together. Her body went slack as she surrendered to my caress. My touch became firmer and braver as I stroked her face and watched as her closed eyelids flickered. Her mouth twitched into a small smile as my touch explored the curves of her cheek and jawline. I wrapped my hand gently around her small neck, and I felt her fast pulse against my fingertips. In this moment, I realized it wasn't about what she wanted out of me; it felt like she needed me. Trisha required someone strong to help her through her dark times just as I had trouble wading through my own shit and needed someone to help soften my hardened heart. Damn, I guess in a way I needed her too.

  Her eyes opened and searched mine for a moment before she spoke. "You can't go on forever blaming yourself for what happened, Rysten." That was the first time someone didn't place the fault on me. As Jamal's usher into the dark world, I held myself responsible for his life. I failed him and then spent so much time suffering the blame, that even hearing Trisha's declaration sounded like a lie. Still, it was glorious to hear someone being on my side for once; even if it was the sister to the man I failed to keep out of danger.

  Trisha placed a hand against mine that stroked the side of her cheek. "Rysten." My name was breathy as my hand cradled her delicate neck. I continued to stroke her cocoa soft skin. God, I could spend hours caressing her body. I once believed her presence had caused me trouble, but I accepted that, in some way, she was comforting the broken person inside. She felt like home, a feeling I hadn't had in a long time. However, I couldn't taint the moment, not with the darkness I battled constantly. I leaned my forehead against hers. How did this woman make me feel so different? What was it about her that caused me to crumble? I may never know the answer to that question, but I wanted to spend my life figuring it out.

  Her pink tongue came out and skimmed her full lips, and I visualized her licking my dick just as delicately.

  "What do you want right now, Rysten?" She gave me a suggestive look, her body language speaking volumes about the sexual deviance on her mind.

  "You know what I fucking want." God, I craved her bad. My cock hardened with the thought of slipping inside her, of her soft center convulsing around my dick. I felt like a coiled viper, ready to spring forward the moment she gave a green light.

  Trisha stepped back, her smile playful. "Yes, but is it what you need?"

  She was fucking with me, testing to see what my answer would be. I could easily say I wanted to fuck the ever-loving shit out of her. Take her over and over until she couldn't remember how to say anything but my name and become my woman. I wasn't sure she knew the dangerous game she played. My emotions weren't a damn board game to pull out when she felt like playing games.

  Fuck that, I wasn't going to fall into her manipulative ways. She wanted me to say I needed her, like she was the lifeline of my existence. I'd be compelled to do anything she asked all for a taste of the sweet junction between her thighs. As a lawyer, it was in her nature to try to work deals, especially when it concerned Jamal. I did crave her that fucking bad, and I almost did anything she asked in that moment. But I'll be damn if I let her pussy dictate my actions.

  I pulled my hand away, noting the confusion on her face. "You can get the fuck out now if you think you can try to get me to accept some damn deal based on a piece of ass."

  She huffed and gave a vixen-like smile while running her finger down the center of my chest. "No, nothing like that. What if I need to have you and just want to know if it's mutual? This could be a long-lasting arrangement."

  The lump in my throat was too hard to swallow as her gaze raked over me and seemed to pierce the deep waters inside my heart that lay undisturbed for so long. "Trish, I can't take you playing games to get what you want out of me. A toss in the sheets is fine, but don't expect me to feel different about the situation in the morning. You're better than trying to bargain to get what you want." Trisha withdrew from me breaking the spell we both seemed to be under. She hugged herself as if our exchange of words had been an ice storm chilling the room.

  "That isn't what I'm doing, and if you think I'm some kind of skank then maybe I should leave."

  I couldn't deal with any more heavy shit for the night. A simple fuck was what I needed, but nothing was ever simple with Trisha. However, her leaving was something I didn't want either. She was the furthest thing from a whore. However, at the thought of fucking her like one, the dark side of me screamed for satiation. My strength and resolve weaned every minute I looked at her. Maybe she was my salvation from this nightmare and I could finally claim a life free from the sorrow. The thought had to be a lie though; I couldn't see any escape from the terrors flooding my mind. Maybe though, just maybe, we'd fuck and I would wake up without the heaviness that always accompanied me each day.

  I caught her shoulder as she tried to slide past me to leave. "Trish, I don't want you to leave. If we do this, I don't want you to be expecting for me to consider things I swore against. Things I'm not comfortable with."

  She turned to face me. "I don't expect anything from you, Rysten."

  "Good, because I don't think I have anything to give you." I meant that, with everything in my soul. Trisha was on a higher level than me. I might not be able to amount to much more than a bad boy trophy for her. Probably best to approach our relationship that way anyway. I was well aware of our differences when it came to status quo. Thinking anything other than the obvious would be a rude awakening later on down the road when she couldn't cope with things that encompassed my life.

  She ran a hand through her black, kinky tresses. Her fidgeting became more apparent due to our awkward silence. Damn, she was beautiful, looking up at me with expectant eyes trying to persuade me to bend to her will. I had to admire the tenacity within her. I could stare into her eyes all damn night, as long as I didn't see the failed hope in them she usually graced me with. I was drawn to her. She tried to keep her emotions restrained, but no matter how hard she tried to hide her desire, I've always known it was there. I shrugged it off with any other chick, but since Trisha and I had so much damn history together, we had too many things to work out. One of those happened to be our uncanny attraction to one another. Our worlds would constantly collide and our best bet should be to weather the storm together and ride it out until the end.

  I needed to set that subject straight between us, but she smiled in a way which captivated me and made the thought vanish. "Look, Trisha, Jamal—" Trisha placed a dainty finger across my lips. Her fingernail grazed under my lip before sliding down the three-day-old scruff on my chin, which sent an electric zing through my muscles straight to my hardening dick.

  "Shhh, this isn't about him. It's about you and me."

  She leaned in and instinctually I pulled
her closer. Burying my nose in her neck, I inhaled her scent. It took me a moment to memorize her perfume—a spicy hint of something sweet like amber and wild berries—it suited her. My scent on her would be better though. Her warm, curvy body fit flush against my frame, and she took a deep breath. Damn, she felt good. I squeezed her tighter until a small moan escaped her lips. Trisha seemed to understand what I required, and she wrapped her arms around me and held me. In that moment, everything was okay. All the unclear reasons faded and crumbled as her heartbeat pulsed against my chest. I allowed myself to feel something I hadn't felt in a while.

  Peace.

  I lost track of time, but I knew we hugged for a longer period than most would when sex was on the brain. I leaned back to look at her and she took that moment to place her lips against mine. She was nervous; the kiss was hesitant and held a slight tremble. A spark vibrated through me, tingling in my muscles and nearly making me lose my shit. This was it, the beast inside me wanting to take her urged me to let it free.

  I wasted no time in unbuttoning her blouse part way and holding her close again. I could fucking smell her musk, and I fell deeper into starvation. Sitting in her racy satin bra, her perfectly round tits pressed against my chest. It wasn't enough. My goddamn coverall had to go; the thick material of the shop uniform obstructed the feeling of her warm skin. I moved back a bit and hurriedly pulled the top-half of the navy coverall off my body. The thick material ripped, but I didn't fucking care, I was probably fired from the shop anyway. I glanced down as my torso was exposed and paused at the sight of my first scar and what she might think. The grueling life of a street thug left shocking marks on my skin. Marred from past knife and bullet fights and sketchy prison tats; my skin was a canvas of war. Trisha noticed my hesitance because the shame of my past stuck on my skin like medals on a uniform.