“Sex Piston, are you…?”
“I’m trying to tell you I’m knocked up and I’m afraid our baby is going to be nuttier than a fruitcake,” Sex Piston wailed.
Stud turned the truck on, putting it in gear.
“We going home?”
“Yes, but first we’re going to pay Shade a visit.”
Coming in January 2014 by Jamie Begley
Tainted (The VIP Room, #2)
Prologue
The sound of the door opening barely registered in her cloudy mind. She was no longer able to wonder or be afraid of who was entering the room. Sawyer felt completely detached from her body. A body that was unable to respond to her commands.
The stray strand of hair that had fallen across her eyes had become an irritant, but she had been unable to raise her hand to brush it away.
Someone would come every so often and carry her limp body to a bathroom and order her to use the toilet. She had been shamed to the core of her soul to have to use it in front of the man watching from the doorway. He hadn’t even bothered to shut the door, leaving it open so that anyone passing by could see within the room.
Her full bladder had her wishing someone would come soon, even the humiliating experience was better than suffering with the basic desire to relieve herself. So far, she had managed not to wet herself, but she didn’t know how much longer before that humiliation happened.
The light coming on in the room had her jerking involuntary; the pain in her eyes from the light was like shards of glass. A low whimper escaped her dry mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” the hateful voice said from the foot of the cot she was handcuffed to.
Sawyer felt movement next to her as the man brushed against her cot before he leaned over the cot next to hers. She hadn’t been able to make out the woman handcuffed to the cot next to her, or the other women in the room. All she heard was their crying in the dark. Several of them called out in their terror for their family. Sawyer knew because she had awoken several times herself, crying a name. It was the same name every time she had awoken to the discovery she had been kidnapped.
Vida.
She was the only family she had left and they weren’t even related by blood. They were friends that had grown up together, becoming as close as sisters. They even shared a rundown apartment in the same neighborhood that they had grown up in, in Queen City, Texas.
Sawyer finally managed to turn her head, seeing the man who was the one to take her to the bathroom going from cot to cot, turning the women so he could look at them.
“Dammit to hell! Get your ass in here!”
“What are you yelling for?”
“You left marks on every fucking one of them! I told you not to leave marks! What in the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“What does it matter?” The sullen voice roused Sawyer from falling back asleep, but the pain in her bladder needed to be relieved.
“Redman’s a woman short. One got sick; vomiting everywhere. We can’t have them puking while someone’s trying to fuck them.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“We were supposed to send one of these cunts, but you’ve got them so bruised up we can’t send any of them. Briggs is going to kick your ass.”
“He doesn’t have to know. There has to be one in here that’s not marked.”
“I’ve looked at every fucking one of them asswipe. What are you going to do?”
“Me?” Tommy’s voice had an edge of fear. Sawyer felt a spurt of satisfaction.
“Yeah, you.”
Sawyer drifted away again, but the cramp in her belly woke her back up.
“Please, I need to use the restroom,” she moaned.
“I told you to shut up!”
“I have to go.” Sawyer began crying. If they didn’t take her, she wouldn’t be able to hold it much long, and she couldn’t bear the humiliation of peeing on herself.
“Dammit.”
Sawyer felt the metal cuff around her wrist open and then her wrist fell numbly by her side. A rough hand jerked her up, half carrying and half dragging her across the tiled floor. Pushing her into the bathroom, he stood in the doorway, watching as she fumbled with the sweatpants she had woken up wearing.
“She doesn’t have a mark on her,” Tommy said.
“We can’t send her. Briggs said Digger has plans for her.”
“How long does Redman need the woman for his client?”
“Just for tonight.”
“Digger doesn’t even have to know.”
“She’s not even trained yet.”
“We’ll give her another dose. It’ll keep her quiet. She doesn’t have to be trained to fuck; she just has to keep her legs open.” Both men laughed as she finished and almost fell over while pulling up her sweatpants.
“Get her dressed then. I’ll call Redman and tell him she’ll be ready in thirty.”
Books By Jamie Begley:
The Last Riders Series:
Razer’s Ride
Viper’s Run
Knox’s Stand
Shade’s (coming Spring 2014)
Biker Bitches Series:
Sex Piston
The VIP Room Series:
Teased
Tainted (Coming January 2014)
The Dark Souls Series:
Soul Of A Man
Enjoy an excerpt from Jessie Lane’s book
Big Bad Bite (Big Bad Bite, #1)
Chapter 1
Sweaty gym socks. That’s what the inside of the Wilmington Police Department’s SWAT van smelled like which, in a word, is… nasty. Tamping down on the overwhelming urge to reach over and grab the offending socks, so that she could shove them down the owner’s mouth before giving him a stern warning to wash them, was downright hard. However, somehow Jenna O’Conner managed to keep herself in check because overpowering a two hundred plus gym jock when you were a woman of only five feet four inches, who looked as if you might weigh a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet, would be hard to explain. So, sometimes it seriously sucked to be her.
Sitting on the steel bench seats that ran the length of the black van with its bulletproof dark tinted windows, she did her best to ignore the eyes that were staring at her. Being the new girl on a testosterone overloaded team was more than awkward and being sandwiched in between two guys on her left, another guy on her right and four sitting across from her made it feel as if she was drowning in caveman stupidity. It was a pain in the ass, but she couldn’t complain because it came with her dream job.
Jenna could deal with their basic Neanderthal urges of women being inferior, but she utterly hated being stared at. It was annoying and, not to mention, rude. It made her hand, that sat down to the right, twitchy to punch someone. Hadn’t their moms taught them some manners? She could keep calm, though. They’re just curious to know if the new girl on the force could hang with the big bad asses they all thought they were. Little did they know that this little woman could kick every single one of their mammoth muscled butts. That was part of her little secret, though.
Being a woman, who was also a dedicated cop, was sometimes hard. People tended to assume that you were going to be the weak link in the chain. Not strong enough. Not fast enough. Too compassionate. None of that applied to Jenna, but these guys didn’t know that, yet. Perhaps she couldn’t show them that she was capable of bench pressing a hell of a lot more than all of them combined, but she had no qualms about using some of her abilities to outrun them if the need arose. She also sure as hell wasn’t known back in her old department for compassion. Heck, if she hadn’t been related to the Police Chief back home, then Jenna would have been arrested or fired for her behavior against a couple of drunk, abusive, backwoods bums.
None of that here, though. She had to keep her temper in check. Keep her secrets safe. Not to mention, she was not going to flush a Criminal Justice Bachelor’s degree, six months at the Police Academy, five years of busting her ass on-the-job experience and her life’s dre
am down the toilet. She had to prove to her family that she could live out from underneath their thumb without fucking it all up.
All of that might not seem like much of an accomplishment to the other guys sitting in the van with her, but that was because they didn’t know her circumstances. Not that she would share those facts with them anyways. When they eventually found out how young Jenna was, they would inevitably shoot her dubious looks of disbelief. More than likely, they would begin to doubt that someone so young was really cut out for the job.
Her over-protective family had home-schooled her in their exuberant efforts to keep her hidden and safe. So, sitting at home with nothing to do except study with her mom, she managed to obtain her high school diploma at the tender age of fifteen. After graduating, Jenna enrolled in an online University where she finished a four year degree in three, since her mother obviously didn’t trust Jenna to be out of her sight without doing something monumentally stupid to get herself ousted for what she was. So, at the age of eighteen, she had a high school diploma and a Bachelor’s degree.
When Jenna then told her mom that she wanted to be a cop like Uncle Rick, her mother had no problem shipping her off to the academy because that didn’t mean Jenna was out of her family’s sight for six whole months. No, her Uncle Rick had a friend at the academy that knew just enough to keep an eye on her, but not enough that he would be a danger to her.
Now, at twenty-three—almost twenty-four—Jenna was the youngest member of this SWAT team with a whole lot of job experience, but almost no life experience.
Leaving the small town of River Bend for the bigger city of Wilmington, North Carolina had always been a goal of hers. It had only taken five years to prove to her Uncle Rick that she could handle what he considered to be “big city problems” without outing herself to the populace.
When his friend, who happened to be the Captain of one of the Wilmington precincts, told him that he was interviewing for a new SWAT team officer, Uncle Rick threw her name in.
A month after a stringent application process and many, many tests, here she was, sitting in the back of this van, in black BDU’s, with a bullet proof vest on. She had a standard issue duty weapon strapped to her waist, an assault rifle in her hands and a solid fifty pounds of equipment strapped to her body—just like the nine other officers in the vehicle. Black hair that fell just past the bottom of her shoulder blades was secured in a tight bun at the base of her neck and the lower part of her face was covered with a black mask that only left her eyes visible. A helmet strapped onto the top of her head completed her uniform—she was clearly ready for action.
Heat was pumping along with excitement at the thought of going out on a suspect retrieval mission the first day on the new job. This was the kind of shit Jenna lived for. Most women wanted to bask in the luxuries of shopping, high heeled shoes, and days at the spa. That was definitely not her. Sure, she had sexy clothes and shoes in her closet, but most of it was bought for undercover work. Instead of the usual womanly highs, Jenna got off on the chase of a suspect. It was the best high of all. If she got to tackle the suspect to the ground and accidentally elbow them in the head, well, that was just a bonus.
Silently running through the particulars of the suspect they were going after kept her occupied so that she didn’t get the urge to look any of the guys in the eyes. It wasn’t that she was afraid of any of them. Jenna could kick their ever lovin’ asses from here to China, but she didn’t want to intimidate any of them, either. Yet. Most men weren’t used to having a woman stare them down. It unnerved them. Not to mention, gave them a bum rap with the other guys. So, she just stared off into space, in no direction in particular, while mentally going over the facts.
Suspect was a white male in his early thirties, approximately five-feet eleven; so he is seven inches taller than her. He weighed approximately one hundred and ninety pounds;sixty pounds more than her, but still not a problem.Blonde hair, blue eyes, and wanted for the murder of a woman whose husband was still listed as missing. Suspect was supposed to be apprehended alive to be interrogated for information regarding the missing husband.
“Hey, O’Conner, you nervous yet? Should we drop you off somewhere so you don’t piss in your pretty little pink panties?” Moron. Note to self:trip jackass into a wall.
Oops. Did my foot get in your way?
Turning her head to look the idiot straight in the eyes she sneered, “I’m good, Dubinski, but maybe we should stop at the store and buy you some big boy diapers so that when you scare yourself shitless, it’ll be an easier mess to clean up.” The men surrounding them snickered as Dubinski gave her a grudgingly respectful look.
With a smirk, Captain Nelson barked from the front passenger seat, “Keep it down, kids. Our ETA is three minutes, so let’s go over the basics one last time.” As the Captain rattled off the same information on the suspect that Jenna had just been going over in her head, she took the opportunity to get a subtle whiff with her nose, testing the air. The inside of the van smelled like sweat, leather, gun oil and anticipation. No one smelled scared, just a little anxious. Good. No one here was a threat that was going to freak out and freeze in a dangerous situation. Having a super sniffer of a nose sometimes came in handy. If one of these jerks started leaking sweat out of his pores as if he was trying to help keep up with the water supply at Niagara Falls, she’d have to worry about him accidentally shooting her in the back. That would make it hard to concentrate on the mission. Luckily, that wasn’t the case.
The van rounded a corner quickly as Captain Nelson wrapped up the specifics. “O’Conner, you’ll be right behind Kent; so, third through the door. The entrance is a kill box due to the enclosed space so we have to break the door down quickly and catch the bastard before he does something stupid. After O’Conner, it’s the usual line up. Everybody ready?”
The team nodded their heads in consent as the van jerked to a stop in front of the target’s temporary residence. As one, they flew out of the van and raced towards the front door. A few seconds later, a group of bodies were piled up with Captain Nelson at the front, Kent behind him, and Jenna third in line with the rest of the team at her back. Less than ten seconds later, the Captain kicked down the door while screaming, “Police!”
Moving quickly through the entrance hall, she used her nose to smell the air again. There was a whiff of something out of the norm. Two distinctly different male scents that filled her nose and she was positive neither of them were human.
Moving quickly through the house, the SWAT team started clearing rooms as they spread out through the small ranch home. She followed where her nose happened to lead her, with Kent behind her, towards the back of the house where the scents became stronger. Three doors were ahead of them and she could hear sounds of a struggle coming from behind the closed door at the end of the hall. Pushing forward with Kent at her back, she kicked a foot out, knocking the door halfway off its hinges and barked, “POLICE! FREEZE!”
Before her stood a massive guy who had mussed auburn hair that stuck up in almost every direction and rippling back muscles. The blond hair, blue eyed suspect was positioned across the room from all three of them, facing Mr. Messy Head, with a gun pointed at his head. In the split second that Mr. Messy Head was distracted, the suspect took the opportunity to tighten his finger on the trigger. He was seconds from sending a bullet into his rather large opponent who still remained between them.
Dropping the aim of her rifle from the suspect’s head to his hand, Jenna squeezed off a round just as his finger started to compress the trigger of his pistol. Mr. Messy Head jerked his body to the side, avoiding the bullet by a hairsbreadth, before an explosive spray of red misted the air where half of the man’s left hand used to be. A cry of pain filled the room as the gun thudded to the carpet. The suspect stared at his remaining thumb and trigger finger connected to the remnants of jagged bones and uneven, ripped flesh that was bleeding profusely. At this point, the stranger shot into action, leaping to tackle the suspect
to the floor. In less than a minute, he had their man belly down to the ground with his hands bound behind his back using flexi cuffs while she and Kent stood, blocking the door with their guns aimed at the pair.
Kent yelled, “Freeze! Hands in the air, now!”
Hands slowly lifted into the air as the red-head looked up at them. Bright amber eyes bore into Jenna’s as she looked down the barrel of her gun at him. Caught slightly off guard by his startling, strong, handsome face she dragged in a subtle breath, but what she found theremade her nervous. It was a smell she hadn’t experienced in a very long time— a smell that she had been taught most of her life to avoid at all costs. It was the clean, fresh scent of the outdoors that was unique to shifters alone with an underlying spice that could only be singular to Mr. Messy Head. It wasn’t the latter of those scents that bothered her. It was the other smell that meant trouble. The guy on his knees, holding his hands calmly in the air in front of her, wasn’t human. He spent his spare time in some kind of fur, whether it was cat, bear or wolf, she wasn’t sure. He was Other. Whatever it was, though, wasn’t beneficial for her to be around too long. So she needed to get the guy away from her, pronto.
She was praying that Mr. Messy Head hadn’t caught any of her scent. She’d been told by one of her uncles once that it was remarkably light and hard to define, but to an experienced shifter, it could be figured out. Observing his sudden, subtle flaring of nostrils she guessed that he was trying to do just that. Damn.
Booted feet pounded the hall behind them as a few of the other officers poured into the room to apprehend the two men in front of her. After Mr. Messy Head had been cuffed and pulled to his feet, along with the suspect, she slipped out of the room and followed Captain Nelson to the back of the van. Jenna’s keen senses were telling her that Kent was following directly behind.