Zeke's Rule(15)
She licked her dry lips and then looked back at Zeke.
“Do you like it?” she asked again.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at her. Zeke looked amused by her question while Alessandria was just curious.
“It’s a necessity to get to the top.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yes and no.”
“Why?”
He sighed but answered her. “Yes, because it gets the job done, and I’m not in the mood for dealing with traitorous assholes. Men and women who fuck with me are given a choice. They can be loyal to me, and get all the benefits of that loyalty, or they can betray me and suffer.”
“Then why don’t you like it?” she asked.
“Hearing a woman begging for her life is not exactly pleasant.”
“You kill women?”
“I have no choice. The moment I start letting women off easily because they are considered weaker, my enemies will believe I’ve gone soft. There’s no room for softness in this world.”
She understood that. “Gerald wanted me to find a weakness in you, but why he thought I could do anything but lay on my back is a mystery to me.”
“You’ll not talk about yourself like that anymore, understand.”
She swallowed and stared at him, but nodded. “Okay.” For so long, she’d felt like nothing, just a piece of meat. Gerald made her feel like that. “He wants something he can exploit and use to bring you down.”
“You’re picking sides?”
“Gerald, he took what he wanted, used me, and now he’s using me as his mole.” She smiled even though it didn’t reach her eyes, and it wasn’t genuine. She didn’t even feel the smile. “He was using me, and sending me off to slaughter. He knew I’d be killed if I was caught, yet I’m here anyway. What’s the point? I’m screwed either way.”
She was done fighting.
What was the point? The man she thought she loved had used and abused her. She’d become another statistic in this world where she’d become a slave to a pimp, giving over the control. There had been a time when it first started happening when she believed she’d get out of it. That was the lie, the fantasy. There was no out for women like her.
Her life had gone from bad to worse in a matter of weeks and months.
“Do you want to die?”
“I don’t want to live this life anymore,” she whispered the words, but she knew he heard her.
“You’ve given up?”
“I’m tired of being scared and frightened.” She bit her lip and stared down at her lap. She’d bitten her nails down to the quick. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her waist and fought the tears that were threatening to fall. “I’m tired.”
Zeke stood. “Come with me.”
She placed her hand within his and was surprised when, in the next second, he led her to a large, beautiful kitchen.
“Sit.”
Alessandria did as he asked and took a seat. She watched as he grabbed out several items from the fridge and placed them on the counter. He didn’t speak, and she watched as he kept working. Her mouth watered, and much to her embarrassment, her stomach growled. He left the counter, and grabbed something, tossing it toward her. Grabbing it, she saw that he’d thrown her an apple.
“Start eating.”
It was easy to obey him, and in doing so, she found this warmth filling her. It was strange, misplaced even, but it still felt good to have commands that weren’t ugly. Taking a bite, she savored the sweet-sour taste that exploded on her tongue.#p#分页标题#e#
“Gerald is never going to get to you. You swear your loyalty to me, and I will make sure the little bastard rots in hell. Give yourself a couple of months; if you want to die, I will put a bullet through your skull myself and end your life.”
Talk about a charmer.
Chapter Seven
Striker found himself coming to Zeke’s club Dominion every week for the last few months. It was the only way he found the release he needed. He tried to stay away from his darker desires, tried to sleep with the sweet butts at the Soldiers compound, but even the D/s action he got from them couldn’t give him the freedom and release he found while at Dominion.
He sat in the cab of his SUV, stared over at the Soldiers clubhouse, and could hear the music coming from the inside. The party was going on strong, the booze was flowing freely, and the Patches were fucking their hearts out with their club whores. But even if the club was his home, and he knew he didn’t have to hide who he really was from his fellow club members, Striker had never felt like the sweet butts could handle the type of sex he truly wanted, the pain he wanted to give them.