Page 21

Whitney

Noxious: Vana

G iven everything that's been happening lately, King and D still refuse to let me go anywhere alone. Even though my stalker hasn't made any recent attempts to approach me, he continues to send messages to the burner phone Havoc gave me. It leaves me wondering how he got that number in the first place. It's draining to constantly look over my fucking shoulder with every move I make, but I know it's necessary.

So, when I'm not spending the night with Boston, I'm with Havoc or Crow, or sometimes both, or even Red and 13. I'm never alone, and they do an incredible job of keeping me safe.

But it makes me feel so small. I despise feeling like a damsel in distress, as if my needs take precedence over everyone else's—because they shouldn't. I resent the special treatment, even though I understand it's warranted. It often breeds jealousy and haters who whisper behind my back because they lack the courage to confront me directly. I'm talking about the dancers at the club; some have taken to bullying, thinking it's acceptable to speak ill of me, even when I'm within earshot.

I've never been one to bond easily with other women; I’ve never understood the gossip or jealousy. It baffles me why there aren’t more women lifting each other up instead of tearing each other down. That’s why I treasure my friendship with Boston. She’s the only one I’ve allowed to get close, the only one I’ve opened up to and trusted, and the only woman I genuinely respect.

As I lay on the couch in our living room, with Red and 13 stationed outside the front door, Boston emerges from her room holding a bong packed with bright green herb speckled with purple. The aroma is intoxicating.

“Wanna smoke before I head out?” she asks, waving the silicone bong enticingly, drawing my attention away from the reruns of Cribs blaring on MTV.

“Um, always,” I laugh, propping myself up and reaching for the bong in her outstretched hand.

The first hit fills my lungs, and the cough that follows reverberates through the living room, leaving me drooling as I struggle to regain my breath. The anxiety weighing in my gut slowly fades, and the negative thoughts that plagued my mind drift away, replaced by a smile.

“How have you been doing lately?” she asks, genuine concern etched on her face.

“Some days are a struggle,” I admit, watching the smoke curl and swirl toward the ceiling. “But I’m trying to push it behind me, even though my stalker is still out there.”

A shiver runs through me at the thought, and I keep the latest series of threatening messages to myself, not wanting to burden the group any more than they already are. King and D have a club to run and their own little secret society, and the more I distract them with my problems, the more they neglect what truly matters. I feel like a fucking burden, and I’m tired of carrying that weight.

I take another large hit from the bong, feeling my lips tingle as I hold the smoke in until it becomes too much, unleashing a fit of coughs.

“Well, that’s why you’ve got bodyguards. Nothing is going to happen to you, Whitney. We’ll all make sure of it,” she reassures me, pulling me into a hug that offers a pinch of comfort.

I respond with a smile, opening myself up to her warmth, and breathing a sigh of relief for the first time in a while. Once the bong is cashed, Boston heads back to her room to pack an overnight bag, leaving me alone on the couch with the two guards outside. Just to be sure, I tiptoe over and peek through the peephole, confirming they’re still there.

As I stroll back to the living room after stopping in the kitchen for a bag of chips and a beer, my phone, nestled in my back pocket, vibrates with an incoming message. My nerves spike with every message, and the weed I just smoked amplifies the paranoia that surges in my gut. Standing at the balcony glass door overlooking the city, I suck in a deep breath and pull up the message, my blood running cold with every word.

I see the cops you have guarding your door, Whitney. But don’t get it fucking twisted; I’ve got no problem killing cops to get what I fucking want.

Confusion clouds my mind as I reread the message. Why does he think Cade and Carter are cops? I’m likely focusing on the wrong thing, but the whole cop thing bothers me. Before I can fully process it, another message arrives, doing more damage to my nerves than the first.

You didn’t know they were cops, did you? I did, because I’ve seen them in action, and if you think they’re there to fucking protect you, think again. They’ve suddenly become present to build cases against all of you... you were always such a gullible little whore.

Rage courses through me, and I turn off my phone, not caring if anyone can reach me for the rest of the night. The cryptic texts torment my mind, jeopardizing my mental health with each delivery. After powering down my phone, I leave it on the coffee table, deciding to escape outside for some fresh air without being shadowed.

Sitting on the balcony, I can’t shake the unsettling texts from my mind. Are Cade and Carter really cops? I know there were rumors about them at the club, but they seemed to die down after Johnny's death.

“Why is your phone off?” Cade’s sudden, deep voice nearly makes my heart leap from my chest, startling me.

“Because I didn’t want to be bothered tonight,” I retort, glaring at him, his face unmasked this evening.

“What’s that look for?” He asks, a hint of suspicion flickering in his eyes, only making me more anxious.

“I’m only going to ask you one time, Cade, and you better fucking tell me the truth,” I warn, standing tall to face him, a subtle challenge to show him I’m not afraid.

“Ask away, Little Mischief,” he encourages, a twisted smile creeping across his lips.

“Are you and Carter cops?” I blurt out, cutting straight to the point.

The look on his face speaks volumes—he doesn’t even need to utter a word. The truth sinks in. I slowly back away from him, feeling as though I've been slapped across the face by his silence. But with every step I take back, he advances, closing the distance between us to an arm's reach.

“Who told you that?” Cade's tone shifts, a menacing glimmer in his gaze confirming my worst fears.

I have cops guarding my door, and they’ve infiltrated Masked Mayhem, aiming to dismantle our dark, dangerous world without regard for any collateral damage.

“Don’t fucking worry about it. Just answer me, Cade. Are you and 13 cops?” I sneer, feeling betrayed and terrified for the safety and future of my friends—my family.

He charges at me and backs me up against the balcony railing, his nose touching mine, his eyes wild and threatening. He then spins me around and pushes on my lower back, forcing my head down, and I'm met with a bright and beautiful, albeit frightening, view of the city below.

"I'm not in the fucking mood, Whitney," he growls against my hair, then tugs at my lobe with his teeth before darting his tongue out to playfully lick the shell of my ear.

He holds my hands with one hand behind my back and kicks my feet to spread them apart, sure as fuck making me feel like I'm being arrested. Impatiently, he rips my leggings down and pushes himself against my ass, the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clinking as he pulls them out and slaps them around my wrists.

"Am I a fucking cop, Whitney?" He asks, deep and dominating, directly in my ear, sliding his cock into me with a slow, deep thrust.

"Yes, Cade," I mumble, tears of anger pricking my eyes. "You're a fucking cop."

The words taste sour coming out of my mouth, the feeling of betrayal even more invasive than it was before—before I knew for a fact that he was a fucking cop. He holds onto the cuffs as he fucks me, making sure I can't go anywhere, and I can't bring myself to tell him to stop.

"That's right, I am a fucking cop, and so is 13." He thrusts again, moving his lips to the side of my neck, biting over one of Havoc's bite marks to cover it up. "But you know how to keep a secret, right? You know how to be a good girl and keep that mouth closed unless you're sucking my dick, right?"

I shudder, both from the audacity of his words and the feeling of him inside me. Even though I feel completely betrayed and violated, his cock feels too good to tell him to stop. When I don't answer, he bites harder on my neck and tugs roughly at the cuffs, pinching the skin on my wrists.

"Use your fucking words, brat," he growls against my skin.

"I know how to keep my mouth shut," I whisper, letting him use me and control me however he wants.

Cade’s grip on me tightens, and a wave of conflicting emotions crashes over me. The betrayal of knowing he’s pretending to protect me while being a cop, mixed with the raw pleasure of his body grinding against mine, creates a tumultuous storm in my mind. I want to scream, to push him away, but the truth is, I don’t really want him to stop.

I feel the heat radiating from him as he shifts his grip on the cuffs, forcing me to feel every pulsating movement he makes. My heart races, the rush intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “You know how to play this game. But if you keep this secret, I promise to keep you safe.”

I can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the power he has over me. With one hand, he pulls my hair back, exposing my neck to his hungry lips. I close my eyes, surrendering to the pleasure flooding my senses, while every rational thought tries to swim back to the surface.

“Does it fucking excite you, knowing you’re with a cop?” His voice drips with a seductive bass, sending shivers down my spine.

“I—” I start, but he cuts me off by thrusting deeper, silencing the protests I didn't even know I wanted to voice. “I didn’t want to know,” I finally manage, the words barely escaping my lips as he continues to pound me against the balcony railing.

“Fucking liar,” he challenges, cupping my chin and turning my head, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You thrive on this danger, don’t you? You like the thrill of it.”

I can’t deny it—something inside me does yearn for the excitement, the unpredictability, even if it comes with a heavy weight of fear.

“Just… don’t betray me, Cade,” I murmur, feeling the boundaries of my world shift beneath me.

He chuckles darkly, a sound that makes my heart quicken.

“Betray you? I wouldn't dream of it. But in this game, you need to understand one thing: I am the law here. You’re not just a pawn, Whitney; you’re a fucking queen. Play your cards right, and I’ll make sure no one touches you. But cross me, and you’ll see just how cruel I can fucking be.”

A jolt of fear ignites within me, mingling with the pleasure he insists on inflicting. There’s a power shift happening, and I’m both scared and exhilarated. With a final thrust, he holds me still, choosing his pace and dominance with every thud of his hips against my ass.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Cade presses, his voice husky, layered with raw, animalistic energy.

“Yes,” I breathe out, surrendering to the moment.

“Good,” he says and pulls me up against him tighter, lowering his voice as he begins to pump into me with a relentless rhythm. “Remember this feeling—lost in pleasure but tethered by fear. You need me to protect you, but you also need to know that this life we’re in? It’s dangerous. It’s fucking messy. And it can fucking consume you if you let it.”

As he speaks, the weight of his words settles heavily in my chest, making me hover on the edge of clarity and haze. Every thrust he delivers sends shockwaves through me, keeping the pleasure at the forefront of my mind, but somewhere in the back, a sense of foreboding simmers.

“Just fucking keep quiet, Whitney. We’ll figure this out together, but for now?” He grins, and his gaze burns into mine with a mix of possession and warning. "Let go. Let me fucking handle everything else."

In that moment, surrendering to him feels like the only option. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try to push my doubts aside, even if it's just for tonight. The city lights below twinkle like stars, unaware of the storm brewing right above them.

I know that this moment can't last forever. As Cade continues to assert his dominance, I have to remind myself that eventually, the consequences will wake with me. But for now, I’m alive in his embrace—perfectly entangled between the thrill of the danger and the desperate yearning for more.

The tension in my body ebbs and flows with every thrust Cade delivers, each one more demanding than the last. I can feel the weight of my insecurities slip away, lost somewhere in the haze of ecstasy he creates with each powerful move. It should fucking terrify me, and it does, but there’s something intoxicating about losing myself in the moment, letting him take the reins, pushing me to the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, driving further into my pussy, his fingers gripping my hips like a vice.

As if he can read my mind, he heightens my awareness of the stakes because this is more than just a dance of dominance; he’s making sure I know exactly who is in control, who possesses the power, and who will protect me despite the darkness surrounding us.

The balcony railing digs into my ribs as I feel the world twisting around us. The city sprawls endlessly below, its lights glittering like diamonds, but it feels like we exist in an alternate dimension, suspended above the chaos of our lives.

“Tell me you trust me,” Cade’s voice breaks through the fog, filled with a desperate urgency that clings to my skin.

The truth is, I want to trust him, even after everything. But how can I? He’s playing a role in a world of secrets and lies, a reality shaped by the darkness that controls my every thought.

Still, as sensitive as I am to the betrayal, I find myself whispering those words with a shaky breath. “I trust you.”

His lips curl into a satisfied smirk, and he picks up the pace, his hand snaking up to my throat, fingers resting lightly against my skin, a delicious mix of restraint and dominance that sends shivers down my spine.

“Good. Just remember, Whitney, trusting me means understanding the line between right and wrong is blurred in this game. You’ll have to make some sacrifices.” His words hang in the air like a warning, stirring something deep within me—a flicker of fear mingling with desire.

“Just keep your mouth shut… and your eyes open,” he continues, punctuating the last word with a fierce thrust as my pussy clenches around him and my breath catches in my throat.

I want to protest, to question what he means by sacrifices, but all rational thoughts are drowned out by the haze of pleasure he’s conjured. Instead, I nod, succumbing to the rhythm of our bodies. But in the back of my mind, the warning echoes. What kind of sacrifices? What does he expect from me? As my heart races, another thought creeps in: what about my friends? My family within this mess of a life? If Cade truly is a cop, how far does his loyalty extend?

With every thrust of his body against mine, I can sense a change in the atmosphere that surrounds us. It’s like the entire world slows, and suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of the stakes. What happens if he or Carter crosses the line? But in the same thought, I realize they've already crossed the line with Johnny, and it makes me wonder how deep undercover they are and if there's a chance they'll be able to bring themselves out of it—not likely.

My breaths turn ragged as the thrill builds, every uncertain thought only igniting the inferno of passion between us. As if sensing my conflict, Cade’s grip on my throat tightens slightly, turning my head again and forcing my gaze to meet his.

“Don’t think too hard, just feel,” he commands, the authority in his tone stirring something primal within me. “If you think too fucking much, you might drive yourself crazy. And if you drive yourself crazy, you won’t be able to help yourself or anyone else.”

I nod, swallowing hard, aware that there’s wisdom in his words. The truth is, despite the chaos of my life, at this moment, I can’t afford to overanalyze. I need to focus on feeling, on the way he drives me to the precipice of ecstasy.

“Just surrender to me,” he whispers, burying his face into my neck, kissing his way up to my ear.

The power in him feels monumental, electrifying, even as my mind races with the implications of everything he’s said. With one last thrust, he pushes me against that edge I desperately cling to, and I let out a breathy moan that echoes into the night. The city below is a blur; my world collapses into a singular moment of bliss that’s both wondrous and terrifying.

I feel myself falling, completely engulfed in pleasure, yet tethered to the reality of who Cade is and the choices ahead of me. Each tension-filled moment teeters between thrilling and terrifying, but as much as I want to break free and ask the questions swirling in my mind, the physical connection between us pulls me under.

Time seems to dissolve around us, and as Cade finally releases his hold, coming deep inside me, I wrap my fingers around the cuffs, trying to ground myself. The aftermath of my climax leaves me breathless, ridden with conflicting emotions.

He steadies himself behind me, panting softly, collapsing his weight against me as he pulls out, his cum dripping down the inside of my thighs. I shiver in the cool night air, feeling exposed and confused, the taste of surrender still vivid on my tongue.

“You fucking opened up Pandora's box, Whitney,” Cade breathes in a husky voice, his breath warm on my skin. “Don’t think you can fucking close it now. Things are going to get messy, but with time, you’ll see it’s all fucking worth it.”

His words hang in the air, a mix of fear and promise, and somewhere deep within, I know he’s right. My life is no longer simple; it’s spiraled into a dangerous game of secrets, sex, and betrayal that’s only just begun. And in the game we’re playing, the rules are still being defined, and I have to choose where my loyalties lie.

As I lean against him, the intoxicating fear of both the future and the darkness pushes me further into the depths of this treacherous world—while grappling with the undeniable truth that I’m linked to a cop who both protects and threatens everything I hold dear.

The choices I make from here on out will determine not only my fate but the fate of those who surround me. And the hardest part—choosing whether I want to fight for my freedom or let him bind me further into this dangerous web. Either way, as the world carries on below, I know I’ll have to confront the consequences of my decisions head-on, and the stakes have never been fucking higher.

To be continued…