Claiming Amber (A Broken Heart Book 2) Page 2

  “Nice to see you too, and I feel you. You're a little close there.” I told him, and Craig winked.

  “Yet you’re not fighting me off.”

  I moved past Craig with a laugh that I knew would piss him off. I smiled as I took another sip of my drink. The kitchen wasn’t as crowded. Placing my drink on the counter and leaning against it, I turned just as Craig walked in.

  He smiled. “Fuck, Amber, I’d do you against the counter.” A few of the guys howled, like a pack of wild animals. Craig didn’t touch me. He knew better, but he moved into my personal space.

  “You’re such a gentleman, Craig. A real catch.” I told him as I reached back, getting my drink.

  He winked at me. “Damn straight,” he said before knocking his drink back. The ice cubes rattled in the empty glass.

  “How about me and you say hello properly?”

  I moved in a little closer. “And how exactly would that play out?” I took another drink, just a little more slowly this time. I bit the straw before letting it slowly fall out of my mouth. The whole time, Craig stared at my lips.

  “You keep doing that Amber, and I’ll replace the straw with my–"

  “How about a wager?” I told him cutting him off. We always bantered. I just normally never enticed him, but I wanted to have a little fun. Craig nodded for me to go ahead as he got a bottle of JD and poured it into his empty glass. “Give me your best chat-up line, and if you make me believe it, then we can say hello properly."

  Craig knocked his drink back. “Too easy, but I accept.” He refilled his glass before drinking it, once the glass was empty he saluted me. I smiled. This should be fun. Craig didn’t smile back, instead, he rubbed his jaw and tilted his head, studying me. I took a drink, not sure what his end game was. When I raised both eyebrows, he moved closer. “Nothing?” he asked.

  “What? That was you hitting on me?” I laughed.

  “That look has knickers on the floor,” he said, seeming genuinely confused.

  “Sorry hun, my knickers are very much intact.” I felt pretty confident now. I let out a large yawn to piss him off.

  “You must be Medusa,” he declared.

  That sounded like an insult to me, but I took the bait. “Fine, why?”

  Craig smirked and grabbed himself. “Because you make me rock hard.” The group of lads who were listening in on our conversation, if that’s what you would call it, roared with laughter. My lip rose slightly. “I’m only getting started,” Craig told me and cracked his knuckles. He moved closer to me, his fingers running down the side of my dress. “You know what material this is?”

  “No, but I’m pretty sure you're about to tell me.” I played along.

  He grinned and, my heart did a little skip. He was drop dead gorgeous, but a complete ass. “Girlfriend Material.” I laughed. He smiled “I’m winning you over, aren’t I?” I took a box of fags out of his shirt pocket and took one out of the pack. Craig was quick. Whipping out his lighter, he lit the fag for me. I wasn’t much of a smoker, but I had the occasional one. He raised an eyebrow at me, before declaring, “I might not go down in history, but I’ll go down on you!”

  I choked on my smoke and pushed Craig away from me. “Do you really pull women saying stuff like that?” I coughed again.

  Craig took the cigarette from me and took a long drag before blowing out circles. He leaned against the counter and grew pretty serious. “Honestly, I don’t have to say anything, but with you, Amber, I’m going to be real honest. I want you to be the girl who takes my virginity.” He looked at me with the most innocent eyes and I laughed, really laughed.

  “Tell me, how far back would I have to go to find Craig the virgin?”

  He smirked like only he could. “That line has worked for me before. But you would have to go back to a ten-year-old Craig. I’m turning you on now, aren’t I?" he wiggled his eyebrows, and I shivered.

  “Yes, picturing you at ten is doing all sorts of funny things to my stomach. Especially on my upchuck reflexes." I picked up my drink, but it was empty.

  “Shane, grab me a cold Bud,” Craig ordered one of the guys who was listening to our conversation like it was intoxicating. I think they were all high; they had that sheen in their eyes and a stupid smile permanently plastered on their faces. My empty bottle was replaced with the fresh one. Craig carefully removed my straw and placed it in the new bottle before handing it to me. “Do that lip thing," he told me.

  “What lip thing?”

  “With the straw, it makes my dick twitch.” He was being serious.

  “You’re a pig,” I said to him and took a drink.

  “You have eyes like spanners. When I look into them, my nuts tighten.”

  I laughed. “You sound so perverted, do you know that?" Craig smiled and held up his hands.

  “Women are the perverted ones. You guys love this shit. Do you know they call me the cat whisperer?” I let out a heavy breath, I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what came next, but I really couldn’t help myself. Surely, he couldn’t get any lower in the gutter. I was wrong.

  “Why?” I asked, and Craig grinned before leaning in close to me, so only I could hear what he was about to say.

  “’Cause I know exactly what your pussy needs.” If anyone else spoke to me like that, I would have thrown my drink in their face, but I expected no less from Craig.

  Craig took a drink, and I gave my verdict. “It was nice chatting but I’m going to get drunk now, with men who aren’t perverted,” I told him.

  Craig lit up a fag, “Nice chat.” He told me, smiling before leaving to find his next victim who would fall for him and his sleazy pick-up lines. His looks won over most women; it was a good job he didn’t have to speak.

  ***

  The stairs were moving, and I clung to the wall to stay upright. A hand circled around my forearm and I looked back at the guy who was holding me up instead of the wall that had disappeared. I had never seen him before, and his red dotted shirt was making me dizzy. I tried to focus on his face, taking in large, brown eyes.

  “You alright, sweetheart?” I looked at the door in front of me.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” My stomach heaved, my face must have portrayed my physical state. I was no longer being held up, and he pointed at the door in front of me and moved away.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” I called after him, before pushing open the door.

  “Give us a minute.” Craig’s fine ass was showing and when I didn’t leave, he glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “Okay then.” He finished pulling up his trousers and flushed the toilet. “Amber, baby, I knew you wanted me.” I raced past him and puked into the toilet. “Nice,” Craig said. I wanted to tell him to leave, but my stomach had taken control as I continued to vomit and retch. As I sat quivering and heaving my guts up, he did something I never thought Craig would do, he held my hair and rubbed my back. “You’re okay, get it all up.” His voice had taken on a much more calming and compassionate tone.

  I did exactly what he said, every last drop. I was exhausted when I finished. After making sure I was okay, Craig left so I could clean up and when I left the bathroom, he was there, waiting with a drink and chewing gum. I was shocked, and I wondered if this was what Grace saw all the time. Grace, my best friend, always stuck up for Craig saying he was a good guy. I never saw it. I always saw a good-looking prick, but right now I got it. “Thanks,” I told him gratefully and he nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking almost vulnerable.

  Stuffing the chewing gum in my mouth I worked it for a moment and then I did something I never thought I would. I kissed him. His hands were on my hips in seconds. “I knew you wanted me,” he said with that same familiar smirk, before sticking his tongue down my throat. We found an empty room and started to strip while kissing. “Just don’t speak or you’ll ruin it,” I told him, while slipping the gum from my mouth and sticking it to a computer desk near the door. I would remove it later.

  “Yes ma’am,” he dropped
his boxers on the ground, nothing dividing us, before lifting me onto the bed. His hand ran along my thigh. “What does it say?” he was looking at the tattoo that his hand touched.

  “Get your hand off it,” I told him, I didn’t want to go there, and definitely not with him.

  “I was just being polite,” he told me, his hands rubbing my breasts.

  “Don’t.”

  He flipped me over startling a scream out of me. “I won’t then,” he told me before he filled me.

  ***

  I woke in a bed with Craig. His eyes where closed and he looked, almost nice. He looked like the type of guy I wouldn’t mind waking up beside. I slid out of his arms and started to get dressed, hoping he stayed asleep, so we could avoid any awkwardness. But luck wasn’t on my side. He stirred, scratching himself down below, before opening his eyes with a slow grin already building on his face. He lit up a cigarette and smirked at me.

  “Fuck, Amber, if I knew it was going to be so good, I would have done this a long time ago.”

  I rolled my eyes at his backhanded compliment. I didn’t regret sleeping with him–yet–but I wouldn’t be repeating it. “Thanks,” I told him. I was one shoe short, and I couldn’t find it.

  “Looking for this?” I looked at Craig, my high heel in his hand. I snatched it back while trying not to meet his eye. “Amber, you're making me feel so used and dirty," he blew out smoke and smiled.

  “I’m sure you’ll heal.” I put on my shoes and then ran my fingers through my hair. “I’m off, good seeing you.” I didn’t want things to get awkward.

  “How’s Grace?”

  Things just got awkward. Taking a deep breath, I spoke. “She’s good."

  He chewed on his lip; he wouldn’t look at me now. “She thinks I’m in rehab.”

  “Craig, its fine. I won’t breathe a word. It’s your business, and Grace always puts her head in the sand when it comes to you. Don’t worry, I won’t pull her head out."

  “How fucking sweet of you.” Craig stubbed out his fag on the locker. So disrespectful. Thankfully, this wasn’t my house.

  “Why are you getting pissed? It’s not my business what you do. What? Do you want me to tell her?” I could see it as clear as day on his face that he wanted me to tell her. He wanted Grace. He loved her, but he seriously needed to move on.

  “Of course not," he lied.

  “Derek proposed to her.” His face lost color, and I moved to the door, getting ready to leave.

  “I’m sorry, Craig. But you need to move on.” I told him. I did feel sorry for him when I looked back at him. His eyes shone with hurt, but he forced a smirk.

  “Are you offering,” he teased. Hell no, I thought, but he was hurting, so I kept it to myself.

  “Absolutely." I winked.

  He laughed. “Thanks, Amber. I hope all is good with you.”

  My hand instantly went to my stomach, and now I couldn't meet his eyes. “I’m coping," I said, looking up at him. I gave a final forced smile before I closed the door gently behind me, and left him to lick his wounds while I licked mine.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AMBER

  I RIPPED THE eviction notice off my apartment door. “You’re shitting me.” I kicked my packed suitcase that sat outside the door. That has got to be illegal. I had never heard of a landlord packing a tenant’s stuff before. I tried my key but, of course, it didn’t work. I kicked my suitcase again, before sitting on the ground and opening my phone. I scrolled up and down my contacts before closing it. I actually had no one to ring. I smelled of smoke, sick, and alcohol. I needed a bed. Tiredness had me wanting to lie down on the floor, but my poor dress had taken enough abuse. I got up and pulled my oversized suitcase out of the building before waving down a taxi. I still had alcohol in my system so driving my car wasn't an option.

  “Take me to the closest hotel,” I told him. He looked at me in the rear-view mirror, his eyes narrowed slightly. I opened my purse and took out ten dollars, waving it at the mirror. Without missing a beat, he reached out and took it before pulling away from the curb. Money held such power; such a pity I barely had any.

  It took us only a few minutes to reach the nearest hotel, and when I stepped out onto the sidewalk with my suitcase, I looked up and up and up. It screamed wealth. This was so far outside my spending bracket that I considered getting back into the taxi, but the taxi driver made the decision for me as he pulled away from the curb. This hotel it would be, then. I hated the rotating doors, so I opted for a side door. A man in a tailcoat and top hat held the door open for me. Yeah, I really couldn’t afford this.

  EMMETT

  “Please.” Blood dripped from his mouth as he spoke. I flexed my hands, the skin between my knuckles cracked and bleeding.

  Three of my men stood in the room. They watched, but didn’t move.

  “How many?” I asked again.

  John’s head dipped down, his chin resting on his chest as he cried. Drool mixed with blood dripped from his mouth. He looked up at me and started to plead.

  I felt my skin split as my fists connected with his jaw, left, right, left, right, right. I always finished off with a double right. The last two, I put force behind them as some of his teeth hit the concrete floor, along with blood.

  More blood from his nose and mouth streamed down the front of his blue shirt. “How many?” I asked again, as Michael handed me a cloth for my hands. I dabbed at my bleeding knuckles before handing the cloth back to Michael.

  “Ten.” John spat out more teeth, and I knelt down when he stopped coughing up blood.

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I asked him. I slapped his face to remind him to answer me.

  “No,” he said.

  “I want you to give me the names and details of the ten… boys?” I said boys like it was a question. He confirmed with a nod.

  “I’m going to die?” He questioned as he spat out blood away from me, and when he looked back I answered him.

  “Yes, you are."

  I got the ten boys’ names and listened to every detail before I killed John. As I left the basement, my moral compass came on, and I wondered for the thousandth time if what I was doing was for the greater good, as I told myself, or did I enjoy it too much?

  AMBER

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked the spotty teenager who looked at me briefly before looking at his phone.

  “No, that’s the price.”

  I don’t know what was pissing me off more, the price of Febreze or this guy’s attitude. I looked at his name tag, ‘Usher.’

  “Usher, sweetie, I don’t think your boss would appreciate you serving a customer while being on your phone.” I spoke real sweetly.

  He looked up at me now, not even a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes. “Maybe I’m the boss," he smirked. The cheeky little fecker.

  I laughed until his cheeks turned red. “Oh sweetie, that’s cute, but I seriously doubt it.” I held out a twenty for my Febreze, newspaper and, two tins of John West tuna, in sunflower oil, of course. He snapped it out of my hand, and I got like ten cents of change. He didn’t even offer me a bag. My large handbag would hide a body in it, but that wasn’t the point.

  I left Usher and his phone alone and made my way back to my overpriced hotel room. I had booked myself in for three nights; the cheapest room being two hundred and ten a night, not including breakfast. If I wanted that, it would cost an extra twenty-five. I entered my room, my two dresses hanging on the door of the wardrobe, one of them my black little dress, the other a royal blue one that I had worn last night. I couldn’t afford dry cleaning right now, so I got the bottle of Febreze out of my bag and sprayed them before taking a long and overdue shower.

  I sat on my king-size bed; the mattress dipped with my body. Everything about this room screamed luxury. I had a mini bar; I opened it several times and closed it, removing nothing. It cost like eight dollars for a glass bottle of coke. I just couldn’t justify it.

  I was feeling so much better after
washing, I dressed into my favorite ripped jeans and a green chiffon shirt. My hair was still wet, and I brushed it out, leaving it down. As I scooped it to the side, I examined all the dead ends before letting it fall back to my waist. Another thing to add to my list; when I got money, get a haircut. I reached into my bag and took out my tuna and newspaper. Opening the paper to the job section, I shuffled deeper into the mattress, getting serious. I was not leaving this bed until I found a job.

  My stomach growled, and I reached for the tab on the tuna tin and pulled. What normally happens is the lid comes off. What happened to me? I was left with the tab in my hand. “Feck.” I threw the tab on the lush carpet that my feet now sank into. Taking the second one I pulled the tab with more care, but it snapped off in my fingers. "Are you kidding me?" I asked the ceiling.

  My stomach growled the whole ride down the elevator. The hotel had a guy in the elevator who pushed the button for me. We arrived at the ground floor and I walked across the cold, black marble. Please, no one look at me, I chanted as I glanced down at my bare feet. The receptionist who I had met on my arrival greeted me with a fake smile. I was the master of fake smiles, so I gave her one right back. I popped my tuna on the counter. “I’m looking for a tin opener,” I said with my wide, fake smile. She looked from my tin to me twice before looking around her desk. I leaned over to see what she was looking at. Her desk was practically empty, only for a computer, phone and pen holder. I couldn't see anything else.

  “Sorry, I don’t have one.” I wanted to roll my eyes. Really are you sure? Why don’t you check your penholder or purse?

  “Maybe if you rang the kitchen, they might let me borrow one.” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but she lost the fake smile. So, she noticed. She picked up the phone, but someone behind me had her replacing the handset. Her eyes told me whoever stood behind me, she was pretty delighted to see.