Real (Real #1)

Real (Real #1) Page 34

Secret meeting

We’re supposed to meet Nora at a small Japanese restaurant situated only blocks from our hotel, but I feel completely awful about lying to Remington about this evening.

“I’ll make up a business monetary meeting with me,” Pete assured me when we met at the gym this morning. “I’ll say you and Melanie are out touring and that Riley will pick you up after dinner so that Remy can go through his monthly finances with me.”

I nod in satisfaction, but I confess that I’m still not thrilled about it. At all. I’m queasy and nervous in the afternoon, but even then, I allow a deep, secret part of me to enjoy the way Remy watches me from the boxing ring as I wave at him from the gym door and signal to Melanie—who stands next to me in all her glory in a mini skirt and spaghetti strap top—while I mouth to Remy, “Going out with Mel.”

He yanks off his sparring headgear to shoot me a smile and a quick nod, his eyes shining like they do when he spots me, and only Mel’s hand on my elbow seems to keep me from leaping up to the ring and kissing each of his devastatingly beautiful dimples.

Upstairs, I dress sensibly and comfortably in a button blouse and formal black slacks.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t want Remy to know about this,” Melanie says as Riley drives us to the restaurant.

“Because Remington’s got some alpha tendencies.”

“Which is sexy, last I checked.”

“Mel, this isn’t a movie. I don’t want him to be unable to concentrate or get in trouble because of me.”

Mel huffs. “You take away all the romance of your relationship, Brooke.”

I groan, and then bang my forehead on the window in total exasperation. “Mel, I feel bad as it is. Please. People who do what he does for a living are considered lethal weapons. They can’t legally fight out of the ring, do you understand?”

“Yes. Although why a man can’t fight with his fists in the street while others run around legally with guns is beyond me. I really should complain to the senator.”

“All right, ladies, if we leave the letter to Congress until later, here we are.”

Melanie glares at Riley as he opens the back door, and he glares back as she passes. I have no idea what is up with them. Melanie is usually sweet to everyone, and Riley is usually easy breezy. But all righty then.

“Thanks, Riley, I’ll be right back,” I tell him.

“The hell you will, I’m coming with you.”

“We don’t need you to,” Melanie says, shooting him a superior look with the tip of her nose high in the air. “Brookey and I have done excellently for twenty-four years without your assistance.”

“I’m doing it for Remington, not for you,” Riley stiffly says.

Thankfully, they stop bickering when we enter the restaurant.

I soak up the quiet atmosphere with one sweep of my gaze, taking in the peeling green painted walls which hold an assortment of framed pictures of raw fish plates, and then my eyes slide along dozens of black wooden tables to notice that all of them are empty except one.

To my astonishment, the only people here, aside from the three of us who stand by the door, are a concerned-looking Japanese man doing nothing but watching us from behind the sushi bar, Nora, who sits stiffly at a small round table at the far corner, three tall, beefy men which I recognize as the same goonies I had the pleasure of bashing their skulls in back in the club, and, of course, the big mean Scorpion who now strides toward us like he’s the goddamned host of the evening.

I don’t know if he plucked some strings among the restaurant managers, or if he vacated the premises by intimidation, or Benjamin Franklins, but then who in their right mind would want to have dinner with dudes like these?

Well. Apparently my sister.

Nora was always the romantic one of us, always wanting to “rescue” some cat, dog, rat, or guy. I never bought the romance stew she seemed so intent in tasting, until I met Remington, of course.

I’ll drink anything that guy feeds me, I won’t deny that.

Now I see Scorpion come forward in his big, bulky muscled body and I feel an instant moment’s regret that Remy doesn’t know I’m here.

A kernel of fear blooms deep inside my center.

Fear not only of these men, but of what Remy would do if he finds out I was ever here with them. This is so new to me, being in a relationship. I just don’t know what he would do for me. But I know that I would do anything for him. Including making sure that he remains oblivious of my meeting with Nora.

I just hope that I won’t regret dragging Pete and Riley into this too.

My breathing hitches nervously when Scorpion halts a foot away from us, and his eyes are green and mean. That, coupled with the fish smell coming from the bar, makes me a little nauseous. The black tattoo is all you see on his sickening face. I don’t see why anyone would want that animal on skin. It’s a 3D tattoo and the scorpion appears to be crawling up into his eye.

“Well, if it isn’t the little whore.” He flings the words like stones at me, then glances derisively past my shoulder. “Where’s Riptide? Hiding under your skirt again?”

Impotent anger rages through me, making my throat curl tightly around my words. “He had better things to do.”

He narrowly eyes me, then Melanie and Riley. “Only you,” he says, jabbing a finger in the air in my direction, “can pass.”

I start passing, but he blocks me with an arm, and a red flush slowly creeps up his demeanor as if in eager anticipation. “You have to kiss the scorpion first.” Eyes glimmering meanly, he taps the icky black scorpion on his cheek, and his teeth flash, his entire mouth covered with a grill of diamonds.

My organs halt in pure shock and horror at his request, and I clench my lips in response as my gaze jumps past his shoulders, across the little restaurant, to the corner table where Nora sits. I meet my sister’s honeyed gaze and despair runs through me at the blank look in her eyes.

How can I let her do this to herself? I can’t.

I just.

Can’t.

Scorpion wants his fun and wants to demean me. He wants to show me he has the power today. But he can’t demean me if I don’t allow him to see how much his request revolts me.

Wildly trying to convince myself that it means nothing, I take a deceptively steady step forward. But my entire body begins to tense at what I’m about to do, and an awful flush of embarrassment burns fast across my skin.

“Brooke,” Riley says in a warning that also sounds like a plea.

But it’s either kiss a stupid tattoo, or sacrifice Nora to this man, or risk involving Remington to tangle with these losers, and I just can’t do any of that, either.

The awful man’s gaze feels like a snake slithering upon me as he watches me approach, but all I can concentrate on is my sister at the table behind him. I draw a deep breath, forbidding myself to tremble.

As I take the last step, suddenly his request seems as impossible as him asking me to climb Mount Everest and dig a hole to the bottom. My stomach roils in protest, and I’m dangerously close to vomiting at the sight of the black crawling insect up close.

He smells of fish and pure mean asshole.

And I wish I had the guts to try to kick the shit out of him.

Suddenly a vivid reminder of a show my dad used to watch called Fear Factor strikes me, where people do all kinds of gross things, and get in boxes with live snakes and scorpions, as well. If people can do that for money, I can certainly do this for my sister.

Shoving my pride aside and seizing onto my determination, I force my lips to pucker so hard, they feel like rocks as I press up on my tiptoes. Nausea roils up my chest before I even make contact.

“Look at this, Remy’s fucking whore is kissing the Scorpion.” His goonies spit the words out contemptuously, and the humiliation the words bring makes me want to run and hide with a force I haven’t felt in years. Revolted at myself, I quickly smack the air and drop back on my heels. “There. All done now,” I say, loathing that my voice shakes.

His laughter is deep, dark, and awful as he turns to his goons. “Did she kiss me? Did Riptide’s bitch actually kiss the Scorpion? I don’t think so.” His beady green-yellow eyes slither back to me, and coupled with that glare, I’m not feeling very powerful at the moment. “I didn’t feel your kiss. Now you’re going to have to lick it.” He beams his diamond grill at me again.

My eyes widen in horror, and my determination to see my sister falters woefully at the thought of licking any part of this man. Omigod, I want to run so bad from here, my veins already feel dilated as the blood pumps into my muscles, priming me to flee. Flee to the car, back to my Remy.

Riley grabs me, his face a mask of concern.

“Brooke,” he says in warning, and that snaps me back to what I’m here for and I quickly squirm free, once again facing Scorpion.

How can I leave? How will I otherwise get to talk to Nora about this shit she’s in? Just the thought of her in this Human Worm’s grasp disgusts me. How can I see her with this type of pervert and not do something to help her? Swallowing back the painful dryness in my throat, I tip my face back with false bravado, desperate to do anything except lick that grossness on that man’s disgusting cheek. “I’ll kiss it, you have my word.”

Fear Factor.

You can do this for Nora.

If you could do the hundred meters in 10.52 seconds, then you can kiss this sucker’s stupid skin mascot!

Evil lurks in his eyes as he studies me thoughtfully, then speaks mockingly down at me. “If you’re not going to lick it, then you’ll have to at least hold it for five seconds, hmm? Remy’s bitch? Go on now. Kiss the scorpion.” He taps the scorpion, and my stomach seizes spasmodically as I struggle very hard to keep my expression blank and show the Human Insect how unconcerned I am with his revolting request.

Drawing a deep breath, I forbid my knees to quiver as I go up on tiptoes, pucker my lips, and squeeze my eyes shut, loathing and rage seizing my insides as my lips hit his dry painted skin. Holding the contact, I feel poisoned inside as I make it last five seconds, my heart black inside me. Hurting and coiling in complete and utter embarrassment. My legs waver as another second passes, and my systems feel paralyzed in this purgatory, where every ounce in my body is repelled by this embodiment of Rotten and only sheer willpower holds me up on my toes.

These are the longest five seconds of my life. Where I am humiliated beyond humiliated, angry beyond explanation, and feel as low as when I saw the video of my broken self on YouTube.

“All right then.” With a smile nothing short of disgustingly wide when I drop back down, surprised there is even ground under my feet, he extends his thick arm out to Nora, and I’m reeling with self-loathing as I hold my spine straight and head for Nora, resisting the urge to go into the kitchens and scrub my mouth raw. It feels dirty and cheap. No, not it. I. I feel dirty and cheap, and the thought of kissing my beautiful Remy with this same mouth makes my eyes tear up and my throat constrict.

I already feel drained by the time I reach my sister’s table. Around us, there are empty tables with upside down chairs littered throughout, except for our small table, which is set with one electric tea light at the center and chopsticks for four.