Coming Undone

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Avril Ashton

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-489-4

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Cheryl Harper

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For the readers who’ve waited patiently for some guy on girl action. Here ya go!

  COMING UNDONE

  Avril Ashton

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  The woman was his way in.

  RJ sat with his back to the wall, taking tiny sips of his sparkling water. The well-known restaurant in the heart of Brooklyn’s Brighton Beach was bustling on a rainy and cold Saturday night. Fancy tablecloths, dim lights and great food. The best food RJ’d ever had, and he’d been to some exotic places, eaten things he couldn’t pronounce that made him want to orgasm at their tastes.

  He’d been watching Salim Najal for a while now, and this was the first time the man visited this restaurant. Salim’s dinner partner, though… Tonight wasn’t RJ’s first time laying his peepers on her. No. He’d been surprised that Salim chose someone like her, curves everywhere, skin like smooth cocoa.

  McKenna Lacey was a beautiful woman, but the more time she spent with Salim, the better the chances she wouldn’t remain that way. She wasn’t RJ’s target. Ms. Lacey was a big girl. She had to know what she was doing getting into bed with Salim, taking his money to be his kept woman.

  No. RJ’s only job was to find the last woman who’d held Salim’s attention, the one whose absence made it possible for McKenna Lacey to slide into Salim’s bed.

  He looked over his water glass as Salim signaled for the check. McKenna hadn’t taken her eyes off her benefactor’s face for more than two seconds at a time. The wide doting eyes she trained on Salim sent the message home; she was in love with the man. Fool. How could so many women be so blind to that monster? If RJ had his way, he’d leave McKenna Lacey in the dark because he knew she wouldn’t be welcoming or gracious once he showed her who she really spread her legs for at night. And the minute he pulled back the mask and exposed Salim, RJ would be putting her in danger too. If she confronted Salim, things could get dicey quick.

  He’d seen it happen firsthand.

  RJ couldn’t see any other way to get to Salim other than his whore, so he’d have to convince McKenna Lacey to trust him. To help him, and maybe even help herself.

  He threw some money down on the table and got to his feet as Salim and McKenna walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, her head on his shoulder as she laughed softly. She was so clearly smitten, poor thing.

  RJ couldn’t feel sorry for her.

  Once outside, he watched them from the shadows as freezing rain flew into his eyes and the January cold burned his nose. Flanked by bodyguards, Salim ushered McKenna into a sleek town car with blacked-out windows. The short dress she wore exposed her long legs—she must be impervious to the cold temps—and Salim’s hand slid up her thighs, disappearing between her legs for a second or two before she whimpered. Salim chuckled then closed the door, locking her in. Then he walked around to the other side of the car and got in.

  They pulled off moments later, first the town car then the SUV with more of Salim’s bodyguards. The man was no slouch. He knew he topped more than one hit list.

  There really was no good opportunity to get face time with McKenna Lacey. Salim had her locked down. Bodyguards swarmed her the instant she stepped out of her house. They even followed her to the corner Laundromat and sat and watched while she folded her underwear, tiny scraps of colorful lace. That surprised RJ. He wouldn’t have thought Salim capable of allowing his woman to do such menial labor.

  After watching Salim and his kept woman drive off, RJ made his way to the opposite end of Brooklyn. McKenna lived in a brownstone in Clinton Hill on one of those beautiful tree-lined streets named after fruits. RJ didn’t have to go searching to know the place was bought and paid for by Salim, a noose around McKenna’s neck.

  Salim liked nooses.

  Jeans and jacket soaked with slushy snow, RJ jumped over a fence three doors down from McKenna’s and went through the backyards, climbing over concrete and wooden barriers until he got to McKenna’s house. Silver-blue moonlight shone bright enough for him to see that the place was a mess, like she never went out there. Tall weeds and vines wrapped around a rusted swing.

  Being one of Salim’s girls meant having enough money on hand to do whatever, go wherever. Of course, the price for such privilege was higher than the women knew until it was too late. What did McKenna Lacey do with the money she earned by fucking Salim?

  RJ jimmied the lock on her back door way too easily and stepped into the darkness of her kitchen. He didn’t bother turning on any lights. He pulled off his jacket, shook off the excess snow, and then made his way through the house. Using a pocket flashlight to illuminate his way, he looked around, taking note of the well-used furniture and scuffed floors.

  McKenna Lacey lived well below her means and that intrigued RJ. He took a seat in an armchair in the corner of the room, in the darkness. Salim never let his women stay the night, so whatever time he finished using her, he’d send McKenna home.

  RJ would be waiting.

  He wasn’t aware he’d fallen asleep until the scrape of keys yanked him back to wakefulness. Voices reached his ears and RJ tensed.

  “Thanks for taking me home, guys.”

  McKenna sounded too damn cheerful for—RJ checked his watch—four a.m.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow for my spa appointment.”

  The door knob twisted and footsteps sounded as her escorts took their leave. RJ got to his feet, moving away to the far side of the room. It wouldn’t do anyone any good for her to alert her departing bodyguards of RJ’s presence.

  Her heels clicked on the floors as she stepped inside and closed the door softly. The bolts clanged when she engaged them. Then stillness. She didn’t move from the doorway, didn’t budge. Didn’t sound like she breathed either.

  RJ counted to ten then twenty.

  A huge sigh echoed. Relief, that’s what he heard in that sigh.

  She moved then, walking right by RJ on her way through the living room. She smelled like sex and Salim. RJ gritted his teeth as she went into the bedroom without turning on the lights. Bed springs creaked.

  He crept behind her, leaning in the bedroom doorway with his arms folded. She’d turned on one of the lamps on her bedside table, probably to a low setting, because the place was still couched in darkness. She sat on the edge of the bed, face in her hands.

  RJ frowned at that display, so contrary to the one she put on in public. Another mystery to solve. He braced himself and cleared his throat.

  She jumped ten feet in the air.

  RJ was on her before her lips parted to let out the scream in her eyes. He slapped his palm over her mouth and dragged her down to the floor, away from the window framed by sheer red curtains.

  She fought him, nails digging into his thigh through his jeans, long legs kicking out. RJ kept a hand over her mouth, muffling her terrified whimpers, and placed his other arm at her throat, holding her flush against his chest.

  “Shh.” RJ spoke at her right ear. She shuddered, still struggling to get away. “I’m not here to hurt you, McKe
nna.”

  She stiffened at the sound of her name.

  “I want you to be quiet and listen.” RJ used what his brother called his “calm but deadly” voice. “If you try to scream, I will gag you. If you attempt to run, I will tie you up. I don’t want to, but I will.”

  She stopped moving, but the scared sounds she made didn’t cease. RJ ignored them.

  “I’m here to ask you some questions about a man you’re quite familiar with,” he said softly. “I’d have knocked on your door in the middle of the afternoon, except he’s made it so I no longer have that option.”

  “Umph.”

  “Let me make this so it’s crystal,” he continued. “I’m not here to hurt you. I have questions, and you just might have the answers. That is what I want.” He tightened his hold on her for a second. “Got me?”

  She hesitated a beat, then nodded.

  “I’ll be removing my hand from over your mouth. I need your assurance that you won’t scream.”

  A sob caught in her throat, but she shook her head.

  “Good girl.” Before removing his hand, RJ reminded her, “You scream and I gag you. Remember?”

  She nodded and he dropped his hold. She tried to scramble away from him, but he caught her around the waist and held her still.

  “Stay here.” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her wet gaze to his. “I know you’re kept by Salim Najal.”

  She actually blinked. Her tiny nose flared. “You’re-you’re one of his enemies?” Her voice came out scratchy and wet. A drop of blood beaded on her bottom lip. She licked it off.

  RJ’s mouth curved at her question. “What do you know about Salim’s enemies?”

  McKenna shrugged. “He told me he has a lot.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “It’s why he has security, and why I have to go out with bodyguards.”

  RJ cocked his head to the side. There was something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on, just underneath the surface. Now wasn’t the time to figure it out.

  “What do you know about the woman whose shoes you’re filling?”

  She frowned. “What woman?”

  Oh, Salim. He hadn’t told her. “The last woman Salim kept,”—RJ spat the word out like it was poison—“disappeared three years ago. No one’s heard from her since.”

  McKenna’s big brown eyes grew wider with each word he spoke, but RJ saw the denials forming before she spoke a word.

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  RJ had to smile. “She lasted two years with him.” He held her gaze and asked quietly, “You’ll hit the two year mark in April, correct?”

  She stared at him in silence while the words fell between them, registering later than he thought they would. When she caught his meaning, she actually gaped at him.

  “You think Salim’s going to what…kill me in April?” She shook off his hold with a laugh. “Listen, I don’t know where you came from, and I don’t really care. I just want you out of my house so I can get some sleep.”

  “Salim’s house.” RJ retained his hold on her waist.

  “Huh?” She squinted at him.

  “This isn’t your house,” RJ reminded her. “It’s Salim’s. Just like the money in your bank account is his, the food in your fridge is his, and the clothes on your back are his.”

  Her eyes flashed fire.

  “Sure, you’ve earned it, but let’s face it, your cunt is also bought and paid for with Salim’s money. He can fuck you however and whenever, but you, like all the others before, have an expiration date.” RJ dropped his hold on McKenna’s waist then.

  She crossed her arms and looked him over with a prejudiced eye. “What’s this about really? You’re not getting any play so you hone in on someone else’s action?”

  Well, he had given her the opening to lash out at his manhood. RJ couldn’t hold it against her. He kept his face impassive, and let his gaze wander over her heart-shaped face and down to her breasts straining against the tight material of her dress. A small purplish bruise marred the skin above her left breast.

  RJ sighed and met her eyes again. “Do you honestly think Salim will keep you forever?” She opened her mouth and he rushed on. “Matter of fact, do you want to be kept forever? Will you keep taking the rough treatment and the bruises indefinitely?”

  “You know nothing about me, whoever the fuck you are,” she snapped. “My business is mine alone.”

  “No.” RJ grabbed her wrist and held it up. The marks were still there, but fading, restraining marks from being tied down, no doubt. “Your business is Salim’s business, and his is mine.”

  She tugged her hand, but RJ tightened his hold.

  “You won’t be able to keep him blinded with sex forever, not that he is now.” RJ had no idea if he was getting through to her. She had a damn good poker face when she tried. “He’ll tire of tying you up, of whipping you one day.”

  Her throat worked.

  “One day soon he’ll get bored of sharing you with his friends, of watching them fuck you, and you’ll be gone. Disappear without a trace.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Why would he? All he has to say is it’s over, and I’ll be history. He won’t have to kill me.”

  RJ barked a laugh. “Jesus, for a whore you’re really naïve. Salim isn’t just a diplomat. His reach goes beyond that to drugs, prostitution. Murder. The men he shares you with are the same, his partners in crime. You know their names, their faces. You can hurt them.”

  “But…” She shook violently. “I… Why would he go through all this,”—she waved a hand at the room—“only to kill me later?”

  RJ shrugged. “It’s a game. One you’re not aware you’re in the middle of until your time runs out.” Salim was sick like that.

  McKenna curled in on herself on the floor. “I want you to leave. Now.”

  “Help me help you, McKenna. I can get you out of the mess you’re in, but I need your trust and your silence.”

  She snorted. “Like I’m going to put my fate in the hands of a creepy, scarred stranger. Fuck outta here.”

  RJ took much offense to the creepy part of her statement, but he held his tongue on that. “I don’t have to be a stranger. I want to help, if you’ll let me. I can make it so you never have to deal with Salim ever again.”

  “Then do it,” she snapped. “Without me. I want no part of your plan.”

  He got to his feet and looked down at her. She’d looked taller, bigger from far away when he’d followed her and Salim, but here, now, she looked beaten down and frail. Helpless. RJ frowned.

  “I’ll go, for now.” He walked to the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “Make no mistake, McKenna, I’ll be taking Salim down. It’s up to you if it’s going to be before or after he kills you.”

  Chapter Two

  For a whore you really are naïve. McKenna stared down at her phone without seeing it, hoping it rang. Praying it didn’t. She sat in the lobby of the spa with two of Salim’s men as they waited for their boss to arrive.

  It was Wednesday, after all, and on Wednesdays they had lunch. And daytime sex. Routines McKenna had gotten used to over the past couple of years. Routines she’d depended on. The man in her bedroom the night before was not a part of her routine, but he appeared hell-bent on fucking with hers.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  For a whore…for a whore…She didn’t like that word. It was the correct one, but still, she didn’t like it. The man with scars on his face and the black patch over his right eye thought her naïve. He assumed, like she’d hoped, that she had no idea of Salim’s darker side. The violent sex was no big deal. She considered that her penance. The occasional gang bang kept her alive, as long as she played her part. No, she knew all about Salim’s darker side, but it wasn’t like she could drop in to one of the precincts in her neighborhood and divulge any secrets.

  Salim liked to think he had her properly in her place, too scared to do anything bu
t lie on her back and think of freedom. He’d know soon enough she wasn’t the passive sort, but first, McKenna had to get rid of the son of a bitch fucking with her plans.

  A phone rang, loud in the quietness of the lobby. McKenna startled upright and looked around. One of the bodyguards, she couldn’t remember his name, flipped open his phone and spoke in hushed tones. The tall bodyguard then got to his feet and motioned for McKenna to follow him. She did and was immediately flanked by him on one side and the shorter guy, the one with wild eyes and black unruly hair, on the other.

  She grimaced and pulled on her gloves in deference to the cold temperatures outside. Spa day was an illusion she splurged on every other week. The massages didn’t do a damn thing once she hopped off the table. Relaxation was as elusive as everything else in her life.

  They walked outside the building and up to the black town car parked at the curb. She couldn’t help glancing around, looking for anyone lurking. She’d bet good money that fool from last night was around there somewhere. Imagining him stalking them messed with her concentration, and she needed all of it to deal with Salim. Tall Bodyguard opened the back passenger door. McKenna took a deep breath, mentally squared her shoulders, and allowed the mask to slip into place.

  You’re up.

  When the bodyguard stepped aside, she crawled into the back of the car, sliding right into Salim’s lap, face tipped up for his kisses. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her, hard and bruising. McKenna clutched his upper arms and moaned for him, exactly the way he liked. She parted her lips when he nipped her bottom lip, and he swept his tongue inside, stabbing deep with the one stroke.

  She straddled him, one knee on either side of his body on the car seat, and writhed. Not too much, but enough to let him know she missed him and wanted more of what he had to offer. This was her forte after all, the tease. The chase. There was a time when she’d welcomed Salim’s kisses, when the sounds he got from her weren’t faked.