Page 20 of Pack to the Wall

Brick picked up a stack of bills, bundled with a binder clip. He tossed it to Tyson. “That should be roughly five thousand. That’s it. That’s all Harley had, his entire horde.” Brick laughed again. When I looked over at him to see if I could discern whether he was telling the truth, he reached down and cupped his balls.

“If you want anything more than that, alpha, I’ll give you everything I’ve got,” he said mocking, suggestive.

“You have nothing I want,” I replied and turned away.

We made our way back into the house.

“He’s lying, there’s more… somewhere,” Bronn whispered.

“Yeah, I figured,” Tyson said. “But he’s probably hidden that away himself. This’ll do for now.” Tyson handed me the stack of cash, which looked to be a mix of hundreds, fifties, and twenties. “How long will that last?”

I did some quick math in my head. “If itisfive thousand, that should last the week easily, maybe two, no more.” By my estimate it was going to cost roughly four hundred dollars a day to take care of this brood. That was a generous estimate, but something told me these rough folks would add some extra costs that I hadn’t yet accounted for. “Which one of you wants to do the shopping? You know what this group eats better than I do.”

“I’ll go,” Bronn said quickly.

I handed over the cash. “Take my car, you’ll need the space. The keys are in my purse.” I didn’t know how or why I fully trusted the man, but I did.

Thinking of my keys and my car reminded me that I wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. I needed to let my job know I’d be out of commission for a while.

I pulled out my phone again and sent a text to my boss. I told him I was sick, had a high fever and had only just gotten out of bed now. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. I’d email more details on any open accounts I had.

Hopefully that would keep him off my ass for a while. It was Thursday and I’d be able to get through to the weekend no problem, but next week might be another issue. Though, I could say that my kids got what I’d had and I had to stay home and take care of them. I didn’t like the lie, but I had a lot more at stake than my job right now.

Like… my life.

I’d just sent the text when I heard the toilet flush in the bathroom, which was just off the back hall, but toward the front of the house. Tank came out a moment later, which I suspected wasn’t long enough for him to have washed his hands, especially since his cock was out and in his hand. His gaze slid over me and he grinned as he made his way back to the living room. I had no clue what he was going to do, but I had a feeling it would be something to test me.

“Petra, bitch, pussy now!”

I immediately glanced at the woman on the couch holding what was left of her shirt around her.

Pleading eyes caught mine for just a moment before she turned to Tank and said, “Yes master,” then rose and quickly stripped out of her clothes, it wasn’t hard with her shirt already torn and only a mini skirt otherwise. I could see the swell of her stomach. She was probably five or six months along into her pregnancy.

I swore internally, realizing I’d missed my chance to get her away from him.

Tank reached her, turned her around, and bent her over the couch, taking her right there, no foreplay or preamble. My vagina hurt in sympathetic pain at the thought of a man that big forcing his way into me while I was bone dry down there.

But then again, pain seemed to be Tank’s thing. He wasn’t kind or gentle at all, one hand grabbed a fistful of Petra’s long, dark hair and yanked it, forcing her head back at an awkwardangle. She let out a gasp and yelp, which seemed to only arouse him more. And the worst of it all was, he wasn’t really paying any attention to Petra. His eyes were on me, watching me, with a grin.

“Do you like to watch, alpha? Wanna see me dump my cum in this bitch? Maybe you’d rather it was you?” Tank leered at me.

I clenched my jaw. I wanted to stare him down, but after what he’d said, that would give him the win. He wanted me to watch. I shook my head and stalked back to my room, knowing I’d just lost another battle. Tank’s laughter followed me down the back hall. Tyson and Colt came with me, but Colt stayed outside, guarding the door.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he said, as Tyson closed the door.

Inside my bedroom I stormed around. I needed to hit something. “I could have taken her away from him!” I hissed. “I was distracted with dealing with Brick and… ugh!”

Tyson plucked one of the pillows from my bed and came to me. “Hit me,” he said stoically, holding the pillow in front of him.

“I’m not going to hit you, I?—”

“Hit me,” he said again, his tone insistent. I stopped my angry-nervous shifting and looked at him. “Hit me. Then, when your head is clear, we can make some plans.”

He was right, I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t think at all. My mind was crowded with dollar signs, and naked people, and brutes taking advantage of others. I screamed and punched the pillow.

“Harder,” Tyson said, not at all fazed by my hit.

I hit again. And it wasn’t like I didn’t know how to throw a punch. After my ex, Oliver, had left, I’d wanted to make sure I could protect myself and had taken a self-defense course. I knew the basics: how to make a fist and throw a punch, kick ’em in the nuts, a few locks and holds and such.

---