The Rake (Boston Belles #4) by L.J. Shen

I walk back from Ross’ place. Jokes aside, he’s been pretty bummed about the whole Rain thing. I wish I could tell him things could be much worse as far as first kisses go. But I know he’s going to freak out if I mention Coach, and honestly, it doesn’t even matter at this point. It’s done. Over.

I bob my head to the sound of “Hate to Say I Told You So” by The Hives, trying to lighten my own mood. Maybe I’ll ask Persy and Sailor if they want to catch a movie or something. Get all the sugar rush from the soda and eat buttered popcorn.

I take the shortcut to our apartment through an alleyway, when a blue car pulls up and blocks my way to the other side. Its blueness hits me in the gut immediately.

Brenda?

I rip my headphones from my ears, turn around, and start running without finding out. I hear a car door open and slam shut behind me. My knee slows me down, but I’m still fast as hell. All I need is to get to Main Street and then it’s done. There’s nothing she can do to me.

But then I feel a hand grab onto my throat, and I’m being dragged back into the alleyway, kicking and screaming. I can tell it’s not Brenda. Brenda wouldn’t be faster than me. And her palms wouldn’t feel so rough.

“Hello, little liar. Where’s Jeff? I’ve been keeping an eye on you all summer and noticed you haven’t met a single boy. Even with your slutty new look.”

His voice makes me want to throw up. I roar savagely, throwing fists everywhere.

He cups my mouth to shut me up. I feel Coach’s fingers behind the small of my back as he unbuckles himself. Tugs my mini skirt up.

No, no, no. no.

“Now, now. You can go and fuck whoever you want after I’m done with you, but I’m going to pop that sweet cherry. Let me just grab a condom.”

I find fresh wrath in me when I hear the word condom. I manage to turn around and claw my nails into his eyes. Momentarily free, I scream for help again. With his vision blurred, he pounces on me, tackling me to the ground. His first blow lands on my jaw and stuns me into silence, even when the rest of my body still struggles to break free.

“Fine, never mind about the condom. Bitch.” He spits on my face.

I continue fighting, even when I know I’ve lost the war.

When all my soldiers are dead, and my horses are gone, and my land is swollen, thick with blood.

I keep fighting when he breaks me.

When he takes me.

When there’s nothing left to fight for.

I keep fighting, because that’s the only way I know how to survive.



The morning after my argument with Devon, I padded barefoot to his bed to apologize, but at six-thirty, he wasn’t there.

I brushed my teeth, slipped into a white mini-dress that highlighted my calves, and ate a piece of avocado toast. Afterwards, I drove to a different police station from the one I previously went to, and, the good girl that I was, filed another complaint, this time with a policewoman who seemed much more competent and much more freaked out about it, which oddly made me feel better.

By noon, my schedule was clear and my ass was bored. I knew Sam Brennan, whom I was planning to corner and demand he take me on as a client, wasn’t going to be in Badlands before eight in the evening, so I still had time to burn.

I stopped by Madame Mayhem to go over a few files and check on the staff. Devon didn’t want me to go there, but I had my gun, Krav Maga skills, and Simon.

As much as I hated to admit it, having a bodyguard the size of a politician’s ego wasn’t such a bad thing.

I showed up at the back office of my own club, armed with my laptop and a smile.

“Honey, I’m home!” I announced to Ross, whose eyes bulged out of their sockets on impact. He rushed to me, shaking his head and fist simultaneously.

“Holy Cody Simpson’s abs on a poster! What’re you doing here?”

“Working?”

“Under these circumstances?” He cradled my belly—the belly in which a person was now fluttering and flipping and doing all kinds of amazing things, especially at night—and gasped.

“Yeah. You expect me to just drop my responsibilities and dip?”

“I’m expecting you to look out for your wellbeing as well as your child’s!”

“I’m just going to do a couple hours of spreadsheets.”

“Bitch, you’re not an accountant. The world’s not going to collapse into itself if you don’t check on the Belgian beer supply today. And, sorry to break it to you, we’re doing swimmingly without you.”

Simon appeared out of nowhere, as if by magic, the minute my voice carried from the backroom.

To say he didn’t look happy to see me was the understatement of the century.

“You’re here.” Simon stopped at the door, disappointment rolling from his body in waves.

“Hello to you too, Si!” I smiled broadly.

“Mind if I work alongside you in your office?” he asked me but looked at Ross, as if to say, I’m knocking down her door if she refuses.

I waved him off with a smile. “Sure, whatever makes you and your uptight boss happy.”

“You’re your own greatest health hazard. I’m on the verge of quitting.” Ross slapped the back of his hand to his forehead before stomping off back to the bar to unload a shipment of alcohol. “Oh, and I’m telling your beau!”