Page 39 of Worship

Shoving his helmet on, Nicolas walked away. After he climbed on his bike and rode away, Milton turned in my direction, like he knew I was looking all along. My face flushed, and I tried to smooth down my wild curls as he said, “We’re leaving.”

We left not long after. Blake and Nick got back early to get rid of Grady’s body, so the other members didn’t see once they came back, and the girls had their lives threatened if they said a word.

No one did, and all was forgotten.

* * *

Saturday night rolled around quickly,and it was party on. The club filled up, and as always, I dressed up. Blake picked out a tight red number with a short skirt and low neckline to wear and had Florence do my makeup.

Blake nudges my arm. I’m sitting next to him at a table where a game of poker is going down. Blake has won every game so far, and there’s an aura of anger staining the air. “Get me a drink,” he orders.

Leaving his side, I saunter over to the bar, tired already, even though the night’s only getting started.

“Johnny,” I say to the man covered in piercings and tattoos. I used to be terrified of him, especially when he’d start angrily cussing in Spanish whenever he got pissed. Though, according to Florence, he’s a lover, not a fighter. “Blake wants a drink. Make it a double.”

Blake shouldn’t be drinking with the pain medication he’s on. He didn’t ask for a double, but I’m hoping that slipping in extra will knock him out. Or kill him.

Just as the drink is placed on the bar, Nicole appears next to me. “A vodka and coke, Jon baby,” she says, fully dilated eyes swinging my way. “What are you looking at?”

My insides seethe, but I don’t rise to her taunts. I never can. But then something catches my eye—a sparkle of a diamond on her finger. Dropping my gaze, an engagement ring sits on her thin finger. “You…You’re engaged?”

“Yes.” She smiles. “To Nicolas.”

Nicolas?He’s the last person I thought would ever get married, and hehatesNicole. I don’t understand. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

“Congratulations,” I mumble and grab Blake’s drink, taking it back to him. My heart pumps in my chest as I take my seat next to him, knowing she will never leave this place.

Blake turns to look at me, eyes lowering to my chest in a way that makes my stomach turn. “Come here.” He pats his lap, and my insides bristle with unease, not wanting to do this right now. Standing, I go to sit on his lap, but he chuckles and stops me. “No. I meant on your knees.”

Blake’s men snicker as flames smack me in the face. “What?”

“You heard me. On your knees.” He’s never asked me to do anything like this before in front of everyone. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”

My bottom lip shakes as I lower myself to the ground, the floor sticky and damp beneath my knees, knowing everyone is now watching. “There you go, baby girl. Now suck me off.”

“Blake…please—”

His nostrils flare, temper rising, which I know could be bad for me. It’s been a week without him doing anything to me, and I can tell that the reprimand will be way worse.

“Do it.” I reach up with shaky hands to undo his belt, mortified and angry that he’s making me do this right now. He continues his game, slamming a card on the table. I can’t believe he’s still playing poker while making me do this.

“The merch is someplace safe,” the conversation that was happening between them resuming. “The feds will never find it.” Blake nods, eyeing me with impatience as I undo his jeans, my heart thumping with sickness. Hatred. Hoping he will change his mind. “We’re setting up profiles now—”

“No. Not online.” I unzip him. “They know how to get into our sites.” Jerking his hips upward, I peel back the layers. Jeans, boxers. “Shut them down.”

“How do you—”

“The auction. That swanky place in Roseland.” His cock, hard and angry, springs free, and a tear falls from my eye that he’s making me do this with an audience.

His hand slams against the side of my head, sending a burst of stars firing across my vision. Without giving me a chance to recover from his assault, Blake fists my hair and yanks me forward. Sweat and salt choke me as he shoves himself into my mouth, past my teeth, until he’s hitting the back of my throat. I’m gagging before I know it, the taste of him always vile. Always retched.

“We give them the goods, we get the money. Easy and undetectable,” Blake continues as if I weren’t on my knees being degraded. The club door opens and then slams shut. “Milton. You’re back.”

My heart leaps, and I try to pull away, but Blake keeps me in place, thrusting upward in a warning. My eyes water, lips stretched, and stomach rolling.

“Come play with us,” Blake says.No. Please don’t.

The chair next to us pulls out from beneath the table, and I sense him sit. Then I hear cards being shuffled. The other players have gotten quiet.

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