Breaking Beauty (Twisted Tales, #1) Read online

  She frowned. “Annabelle,” she shook her head as if trying to keep her thoughts straight. “I can’t find Annabelle.”

  I cocked an eyebrow before sighing. “She’s in there.”

  “Why?” Her eyes narrowed as I stepped in front of the door to block it. “Ohhhh. Are you... you know...” She made a crude gesture with her hands to simulate sex as if her comment was too cryptic for me to understand.

  “No.” I bristled.

  “She thinks you’re hot. You would be a great first lay. Ohh! How much?” She began to dig through her bag. “I have money. I never carry cash.” She shook her head as she pulled out a handful of crumpled dollar bills. “It’s for the strippers,” she explained, her words running together and the vocal fry in her voice, causing my eye to twitch.

  “Sex in the club is illegal, and I’m not into necrophilia.” I struggled to keep my annoyance from my tone. This woman was Annabelle’s friend, although I couldn’t understand why.

  “Whatever. I need to take her to her hotel.”

  “You’re too drunk to drive.”

  “I’ll get a cab.”

  “Get one for yourself. I’ll make sure she gets home.”

  She cringed, and I could see the exact second she switched from playful to an angry drunk. “Don’t tell me what to do. Do you know who my father is?”

  “Do you know who the fuck I am?” I laughed, shaking my head. That spoiled little bitch routine didn’t work South of Parish. She was in my territory, and I answered to no one. That’s when I saw her fiancé stumbling behind her.

  “Cadence, We gotta go.”

  “Annabelle is in there,” she pointed to the doorway behind me with a white-tipped fingernail.

  “She’s passed out. I’m letting her sleep it off. Something tells me she had a little more than alcohol in her system. I’ll take her home,” I explained, hoping he had more common sense than his girl.

  His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, but stopped as I cocked my head to the side. “She didn’t have anything she hasn’t had before. She isn’t staying with you,” He spat, unable to hide his affection for her in his tone. Cadence noticed, too, and her lips curled up as she took a step back from him.

  “Let’s go, Roland. She’ll be fine.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked, his eyes assessing me as he smoothed his short hair that was parted on the side. I squared my shoulders; eyebrow raised as I waited to hear what this little asshole was going to say about me. “He could be a rapist, Cadence!”

  “What the fuck did you just call me?” I took a step forward. My eyes narrowed at Cadence, and she sank down with a guilty look from trying to pay me off. “Good thing it didn’t take an hour for either of you to come looking for her.” I spit on the ground next to the prick’s feet. “She fuckin’ stays.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Roland asked, taking a step toward me, but Cadence – even in her drunkenness – still had the sense to put her hand on his chest to stop him from getting closer.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He was putting on a good show. “This is my club. You know who the fuck I am. I’m the guy who's going to remove you from this building, piece by fucking piece if you don’t lower your voice and leave now.”

  He took a step backward, shocked by my tone, and it was evident by his button-down and casual khaki pants that no one had ever spoken to him that way, at least not with witnesses present.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  I leaned down, my eyes narrowed. “As a fucking heart attack.”

  “Let’s go,” He grabbed Cadence by the arm and began to tug her back down the hall. I watched until they were out of sight before slipping back inside of my private space. Annabelle was still asleep on the cot, curled on her side, and her dark hair fanned out across my pillow like a storm cloud. She looked so tiny, even on the small bed that my legs hung off when I occupied it.

  She dressed the part like her friend Cadence, but as I examined her more closely, I noticed her natural nails were bitten down to the skin, and the pink paint on her toes was chipped, and the thin, white horizontal lines that scared her arms screamed for someone to notice her pain. She may have run with a wealthy crowd, but this girl was an outsider, just like me, and her body showed the wounds of a hard life.

  “Annabelle,” I whispered her name, tasting it on my lips. To my surprise, she smiled, her eyes fluttering but never opening.

  I grabbed the damp rag I’d been using and rubbed it gently across her forehead, causing her face to relax. She sighed, her lip pulled between her teeth.

  TWO

  “PLEASE LET THIS BE a nightmare,” I mumbled, blinking open my eyes to see the stranger sitting on the edge of the small cot, a damp rag in his hand that he was rubbing across my forehead.

  “You can dream of me anytime you want, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased.

  I groaned, squeezing my eyes closed and hoping he’d disappear. “That’s my least favorite princess.”

  He chuckled before whispering, “Annabelle.”

  My eyes popped open. “How do you know my name?” I clutched my bag that was slung across my chest to my belly.

  “Your friend Cadence and that douchebag came to check on you. I told her I’d make sure you got home safely. I’m Mason Locke, by the way.”

  “I didn’t ask, and what do you mean? She just left me here with you? She wouldn’t do that.”

  “My reputation proceeds me.” His brow furrowed, and I realized what I said sounded like an insult. I sighed loudly as I struggled to sit up. He moved back a few inches, giving me room.

  “I didn’t mean... You’re a stranger.”

  He relaxed. “She was trashed. I didn’t think she would be able to take care of you,” he admitted.

  “Thanks, but I’m not really your concern.” I pressed the heel of my hand against my throbbing forehead.

  “Someone has to be concerned. You obviously didn’t care about your own safety and your friend sure as shit didn’t. Here,” he grabbed a bottle of aspirin and dumped a few in his palm for me. I took them and swallowed with a mumbled thanks, washing them down with what was left of my bottle of water. “And you are... my concern, Beauty,” he added.

  “No, I’m not. I don’t even know you.”

  “I own this place. I couldn’t just let you leave without knowing you’ll be safe.”

  “You own this place?” I asked, not bothering to hide my shock. “Are you this accommodating to all your patrons?”

  “You don’t want my help?”

  “I just... I still don’t understand –”

  “Your friends are gone,” he shot back, cutting me off. “You’re my responsibility tonight.” The way he spoke was so matter-of-fact that I didn’t even know how to reply. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I nodded, my eyes falling to the empty water bottle in my hand, wondering if it had been laced with something.

  His fingertips slipped under my chin once again, raising my gaze to meet his. “Are you always this paranoid?”

  “It’s better to be cautious than to be a victim.” I nodded, my lower lip pulled between my teeth.

  “Let’s go get you something to eat.”

  He pushed from the bed and held out his hand for me. I took it and was pulled to my feet as if I weighed nothing. My gaze dropped to the spot on the floor where I’d puked, but the mess was gone as if it had never happened.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he kept his fingers tangled in mine, and we made our way back to the dark hallway. This time, we didn’t head toward the crowd, but out of a back emergency exit.

  “You like burgers?” He asked as we approached a motorcycle. Grabbing a helmet, he held it out to me. “You’re not one of those vegan, kale eating chicks, are ya’?”

  “No. I can’t afford to be that picky.” I shook my head. “That thing isn’t safe.”

  “Are you scared?” his eyebrow rose. I rolled my eyes, snatching the helmet from his hand
and placing it on my head.

  “I‘m in a skirt.”

  “Yeah,” his eyes dragged down my body, and it felt like every scrap of fabric had fallen away under his gaze. “It’s a shame you will be sitting behind me.”

  “Are you always this... vulgar?” I asked, earning me a deep laugh. He straddled the giant black machine and waited for me to give up on my temper tantrum.

  “I own a strip club. This is me being polite,” he teased. I huffed as I slung my leg over his bike, my chest pressed against his muscular back. He grabbed my hands and slid them across his stomach, causing me to shiver. “You cold?” He asked. I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me.

  “No,” I whispered as he tugged up his shirt and splayed my fingers across his warm flesh. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against his back, silently praying we would make it to our destination safely. I felt like I was going to pass out again from his close proximity and tumble off the back of the motorcycle like a ragdoll.

  We pulled out in the alley, the bike vibrating wildly between my thighs as we turned onto the main road in front of the club. We only traveled a few blocks before he was leaning the bike to the side and propping it on the kickstand.

  As he shut off the motorcycle, it felt like my brain was still rattling from the mind-numbing noise of the engine. His fingers slid over mine, squeezing gently. “You ready, Beauty?” He asked softly, and I let my eyes blink open. “We can sit here all night like this if you want.”

  I groaned, pulling my hands from under his and stepped off the bike. He laughed quietly as he got off too, taking the helmet off my head like I was a child.

  “My name is Annabelle... Emerson.”

  “I like Beauty. It suits you.”

  I felt my cheeks darken as he ran his tongue out over his lips like his mind had gone to the same dark and depraved place mine had. “I’m not some pet you can just rename.”

  “Come on.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me into the dimly lit mom and pop restaurant called The Tavern.

  “Hey, Mason,” A pretty girl with short dark hair called out in the thickest southern drawl I’d ever heard.

  He smiled back politely as he guided me to a small booth along the large window in the front of the restaurant. The vinyl of the seats had been torn and taped, and the Formica tops of the table had faded from years of use, but it was clean and smelled like pumpkin pie.

  “You must be a regular,” I observed, but he only shrugged in return.

  “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

  “I just got here a few weeks ago,” I chewed my lip, but he continued to watch me as if waiting for me to elaborate. “Cadence moved out here with Roland a few years back, and I needed a fresh start. So I decided, why not Conquest, Indiana, home of that singing cat from the internet? What about you?”

  “Born and raised,” he replied as the waitress made it to our table, pen poised over her notepad.

  “We got fried pickles tonight,” she called out as if she’d discovered gold. Judging by Mason’s face, this was even better.

  “Sounds perfect, Hanna. Can I also get one of those beast burgers?”

  “With the mozzarella sticks on top?”

  My phone vibrated in my bag, and I slid it out of my purse, holding it under the table to read the new message.

  UNKNOWN CALLER: I can’t stop thinking about you.

  “That’s the one.” Mason winked at her, and I watched as she seemed to melt into a puddle on the floor from his attention.

  I rolled my eyes, turning off my phone and waiting for her to break eye contact with him to take my order, but it was clear she was lost in some fantasy about him taking her right here on our table.

  “I’ll just have a mushroom swiss burger,” I called out.

  “And water,” Mason added.

  “Sure thing, sweetheart,” she replied. There was no venom in her voice, and I realized I wasn’t being ignored, but Mason’s presence was like the sun, blocking out the smaller stars in his illumination.

  “And an application... if you have one?” I cleared my throat, avoiding Mason’s curious gaze.

  “Of course.” She finally left our side, throwing one last glance over her shoulder at Mason. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and struggling not to laugh.

  “What?” he asked, his eyes searching my face.

  “Nothing,” I shrugged.

  “It’s not nothing, ‘Belle. What is it?”

  “The way she was looking at you like... You...”

  “Like she wanted to fuck me?” He finished my thought, his eyebrow cocked.

  “Yeah... That,” I sighed.

  “She’s had a crush on me for years. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Why would I worry?” I asked, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I don’t even know you.”

  “Yet...” he added. “You don’t know me yet, but we’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “Are you always this forward?” she asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

  “I thought I was being restrained,” I replied, struggling not to laugh at how wound tight she was.

  I’d never met someone so innocent that they blushed just at the mention of fucking. It made my cock throb. Annabelle was nervous at everything and even jumped when her phone vibrated in her hand. I wondered if maybe she had a boyfriend, someone who would be worried about who she was with tonight, but when she slid her phone back into her bag without responding, I smiled. No, she was alone, like me.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She rolled her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “For taking care of me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me for that.” I drummed my fingers against the table.

  “I do.” She shrugged. “Seriously, thank you.”

  Brody, the busser, brought out our fried pickles and sat them between us and placed an application in front of Annabelle. “It’s good to see you, Mason.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously.

  I nodded, giving him a smile. “You too, Brody. Thanks for the pickles.”

  He laughed, rubbing his palm across the back of his head. “I made ‘em myself. It’s only supposed to be one cup, but I added extra for ya. Enjoy!” He turned around and traipsed back into the kitchen.

  “That was... weird,” Annabelle said as she watched him disappear.

  “He’s a fan.” I shrugged.

  “Of what? Strippers?” She asked as she dug a pen out of her purse and began to fill out her information.

  “Fried pickles, obviously.” I quipped, shaking my head. Annabelle scrunched up her little button nose as I dipped one in the ranch dressing and popped it in my mouth.

  “If you’re going to sit there and judge me, you at least need to try one.”

  She shook her head as I dipped another and held it out to her. “No way.”

  “Open your mouth.”

  She laughed as she let her lips part.

  “Wider.”

  She obeyed. I stuck the bite into her mouth, and the tip of her tongue brushed against my finger. I stiffened. Her eyes closed as she chewed the bite and swallowed.

  “Okay. You win. That was weirdly good.”

  Hanna brought out our sandwiches in red baskets, topped with checkered paper and filled to the brim with steak fries.

  “You done with that?” She asked Annabelle who gave her a quick nod as Hanna picked up her resume, her eyes skimming the writing. “Can I get you anything else, hon?” Her attention had turned to me.

  I let my gaze slip to her ample chest below her Tavern t-shirt before looking back to her face. “I think we’re all set.”

  She winked at me before turning on her heel and making sure to shake her ass with every step as she walked back to the kitchen. Hanna was a good girl, raised on her grandpa’s farm. She was also a bible-thumping Christian who’d tried to save my depraved soul on more than one occasion. I played along, not having the
heart to tell her that I didn’t have a soul to save. She’d given up on her quest for my salvation after my life fell apart. Women always wanted to find a man who they thought was broken so they could fix them. But I couldn’t be fixed, and a girl like Hanna could never give me what I craved.

  I watched her until the door swung closed behind her, and when I glanced back to Annabelle, her eyes were narrowed with curiosity.

  I grabbed my burger, taking a large bite, and she cringed, shaking her head and causing her dark hair to sway against the tabletop. “You eat like an animal.”

  I smiled, wiping the ketchup from my lip and sucking it off my finger before shaking my head, my mind taking her comment in a dirty context. There was a muffled yelling, and we both looked to the large window beside us to see several drunks cheering and pointing at me. Behind the group stood Hunter, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets, a smirk on his lips. I pushed from my seat, raising my chin toward him, ready to wipe the smile off that cocky prick’s face. He shook his head, and the group continued down the road. I sank back in my seat before looking back at Annabelle.

  “So you’re some kind of local hero around here, huh?”

  “I’m no hero, Beauty. They respect me here because they fear me.”

  “I dunno. You seem like a pretty nice guy to me.”

  “You’re a shitty judge of character,” I quipped.

  She shook her head, staring at me with amusement. “You’re an interesting person, Mason Locke. I don’t think you’re nearly as bad as you think you are.”

  “That’s because you don’t know me.”

  “Yet,” she added with a playful smirk. “I don’t know you yet.”

  THREE

  WE FINISHED EATING, and I was once again straddling the back of Mason’s bike as he drove toward The Provincial Hotel. We pulled into the parking lot at nearly three in the morning, and I yanked off the helmet, running my fingers through my knotty hair.

  “This place?” He asked, his eyes scanning over the dilapidated building with disapproval. “You know they call this the P-Spot, right?”