Page 49 of Deceit

We work that way together, with complete trust and respect for the other. Something rare in our world.

Glancing inside, I almost throw up. The bile in my stomach begins to bubble like the inside of a volcano because there are still two more people on the front bench of Mac’s truck.

Camilla, my girl, and some dude with his raw dick in her ass.

She’s laid out with her back to his chest, set up perfectly to get a train ran on her in the middle of nowhere. We’re between town and the trailer park, but no one drives on this road too much, let alone walk it like Kyson and I just did.

And as much as I wish I hadn’t, I’m glad we did.

Because my girlfriend just got raped by the motherfucker I’ve been hunting and impatiently waiting to show up again.

Kyson silently appears at my side, his palm clenching the side of the door like he’s right there with me about to lose all the contents of the junk food we ate at the Green Stand Market.

“Cam,” I choke out, gripping the bed of the red pickup to hold back my gag reflex. “C’mon.”

She moves, and I close my eyes, not able to see someone’s cock sliding out of her or the look of pure embarrassment and horror of what she just went through.

A deep chuckle sounds behind me, purposely taunting because Mac knows who Camilla belongs to, and it sure as hell isn’t the trailer park.

“You about to fill in for her, Bishop?” Mac provokes as I move to the side to allow Camilla out of the truck. “I heard you’ve taken it up the ass a few times.”

“Kyson,” I ground out in warning because I’m about to lose my entire shit in approximately two seconds if he doesn’t stop me. And it’s going to end badly, bloody, and messy.

Like we’re hiding a body in the woods bad.

“Yep,” my best friend replies through a snarl, already aware of what I’m asking him to do.

“Kace.” My eyes shoot open to find Cam standing there, still pantless but with her light pink shirt on. Her dark blonde hair is matted to her face with sweat and pretty blue eyes rimmed in red from crying.

Placing my knife on the railing of the truck bed, I immediately pull down my sweatpants, removing my sneakers to get them off my feet.

Mac whistles. “Damn, Bishop, I’ve never fucked a dude before but…I mean, if you’re game.”

I hand my black pants to Cam, standing against the coolness of the night in my boxers. “Here, put these on. They're warm.”

Her fingers brush mine as she takes them, and I almost allow the buildup of tears in my own eyes to take over.

Something hits the inside of the truck, and I quickly reach out to cover Camilla’s ears, fully aware of what’s about to happen next.

A pained howl follows as I glance up from Cam to watch Kyson in the front seat, arm raised with his blade in his hand before it thrusts downward into the dude that played a part in my girlfriend’s worst nightmare.

Flicking my attention to her because I have to be the strong one here, she just stares back at me. Her frame begins to shake from the aftermath, the fear, the possibility that maybe I’ll hate her and not want her after this.

I see Mac move from my peripheral, gaining my focus but all he does is stand. He doesn’t make a move to help out his buddy, nor does he run.

That’s the thing on the streets, if you want to be taken seriously, you face your shit head-on. You don’t pussy out and dip but fight what’s in front of you.

And here, since we all don’t have a pot to piss in, pride and fear are what everyone wants around here.

The howls and gurgles eerily cease, and I remove my hands from the sides of Camilla’s face then straighten my spine.

“Camilla,” I mutter. “You need to do me a favor.” She nods instantly. “Take this truck and drive home. Park it outside the chain-linked fence at the front, and I’ll handle it later.”

“Kace.” My name is barely audible off her lips, and I press my forehead to hers, smelling male cologne that isn’t mine, and it knots my gut even harder.

“This changes nothing. Do you hear me? I still love you, you’re still mine.”

A broken whimper escapes her pink lips, and she bobs her head again.

---