Adversaries by T.L. Hodel

Hell wasn’t a blackened abyss of fire. It was a rundown hovel with shag carpet and wool blankets. True torment was being trapped in this room for hours on end. Unless there was a show people were talking about, I wasn’t normally a TV person.

I didn’t even know you could still get channels with an antenna. And let me just say, all that fighting to get the wires in the right direction, so not worth it. I couldn’t even get a fuzzy picture.

I thought about climbing out the window again until I looked outside, and some of Chase’s men smiled at me, which left me with one option. go through Chase’s crap. He was a biker and, therefore, should have something interesting. Nope. The only intriguing thing I found was a few letters Riley had written him.

They were the typical, I miss you, we’re doing okay crap all relatives wrote. Though, I wasn’t sure if Riley was actually related to Chase.

For all I knew, he was just some creepy guy that liked to hang around her. Maybe he was doing her mom? Maria Adams was alright for a docksider, and she was drunk half the time, so it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch.

I tossed the letters back in the dresser and moved over to the desk. Nothing there either, until I opened the bottom left drawer. There was a stack of papers inside. Docking slips and stuff like that from Ashen Springs.

It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for him to have this information. Chase did live in my hometown for years. There was no excuse for him to have my father’s banking information, though.

What really got me were the discrepancies I found. I knew my father’s accounts like the back of my hand. Hell, I had his credit card numbers memorized when I was twelve. But I’d never seen these deposits before.

Also, the payments to his lawyer each month were way too high. About ten thousand dollars a month by my calculations. Was daddy in trouble?

These records went back ten years, about four past when the deposits started. And each month, he overpaid his lawyer the same amount. Why? I flipped through the rest of the pages, looking for clues.

Everything seemed to point towards the money going in his account, not the overpayments he was making. I’m sure there was a reasonable explanation. People paid lawyers for all kinds of things, but that much a month, for at least ten years, seemed a little excessive.

“It’s rude to go through other people’s stuff.”

I looked up to see a short girl with red hair and tacky jeans enter the room. A tray with a sandwich and a soda was held firmly in her arm.

“It’s also rude to kidnap people.” I sighed and went back to the papers I had spread across the floor.

“That, I agree with you on.”

I arched my brow and eyed her. If she put in a little effort, she wouldn’t be too bad—some eyeshadow, a little mascara, maybe some lip gloss. I’d never understood the tomboy thing. We were born with assets men lusted after. Why not use them?

“I’m Claire,” she said, “but people around here call me Jaz.”

“Why?”

“It’s a road name.”

Why did she seem proud of this? “Uh-huh.”

She stood there for a second, staring at me, before holding the tray out and walking up.

“Brought you some food.”

My lip curled at the sandwich. “I don’t do carbs.”

I did, had a bagel and cream cheese every morning for breakfast, but she didn’t need to know that. Besides, I could only imagine what kind of toxic crap was in that sandwich.

I almost gagged when I had to watch Riley shovel spoonfuls of peanut butter in her mouth. Low-quality food for a low-quality person, I suppose.

“Oh,” Claire set the tray down on the desk, “I’ll remember to make you something vegetarian.”

I fingered through my father’s bank statements and said, “I eat meat.”

“But not bread?”

With a sigh, I glanced up and nodded at the food she brought in. “Not that bread.”

“Uh-huh.” This time it was her brow that rose. “Look, I get that you’re probably scared.”

I snorted. It’d take a lot more than a pair of handcuffs to scare me. That kind of shit was Tuesday afternoon with Logan Hudson.

“But there’s no need to give me attitude.” She huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m trying to be nice here. You could at least be kind back.”

I sat back and eyed her cocked hip. She wanted me to be kind did she?

“Claire is it?”

She nodded.

“Can I give you a piece of advice?”

Moron smiled back at me. “Of course.”

“Just because you dress like a guy doesn’t mean I’ll let you fuck me.”

The smile fell off her face just as fast as it came.

“I see. You’re one of those.”

This should be interesting.

Her mouth twisted in a scowl. “I’ve met girls like you.”

“I highly doubt that.” There were no girls like me.

“All you sliver spooned barbies have one thing in common.”

I sighed, “And what’s that?”

“You wouldn’t know a good thing if it slapped you in the face.”

A good thing? How in the hell was this a good thing? I hope she wasn’t implying…

“Are you talking about Chase?” The very thought of the man curled my mouth in a sneer.

“Chase is a good man,” she insisted.

Right, he was so good, he kidnapped me. Not to mention all the other stuff. Spanking me and kissing me. Good men did not humiliate people.

“You don’t know anything about him.”

I didn’t want to know anything about him.

“You know what, I hope he does hurt you.” She stomped her foot and spun around. “You need a lesson in manners.”

She slammed the door, and I rolled my eyes. What did I care what some biker whore thought? Chase Mathers and his whole gang of thugs could fall off the face of the earth, and it wouldn’t make a difference to me. I didn’t care what he did.

I looked up at the laptop on his desk. Well, a little information couldn’t hurt. What was that saying? Know thy enemy?

Picking myself up off the floor, I gracefully sat on the edge of the chair behind his desk and flipped the laptop open.

Hmm, I need a password.

I tried the regular things. Riley’s names, his birthday, which I found on some papers in his dresser, and the name of his tattoo parlor in Ashen Springs.

I was just about to give up when I remembered the names on his arm. Maddox granted me access.

Of course, it wasn’t connected to the internet–why would my luck start now–but one file did catch my eye. It was titled auditions.

I clicked on it.

Three different video files popped up. T and J, Sweet butt party, and breaking in Grace. I clicked on the last one because I recognized the tattooed arm hanging in front of the camera.

The picture came to life, and a girl walked into view. Chase’s voice could be heard behind the screen.

“Get on your knees.”

The girl obeyed and demurely dropped down.

“That’s it,” Chase came into view, walking up to the girl and running his fingers through her dark hair. “Always so obedient. Are you my good girl, Grace?”

The girl, Grace, I assumed, lifted her chin and peeked up at him through fluttering lashes. “Yes, Daddy.”

Chase tsked and pressed his finger to her lips. “Is that what you call me?”

“I’m sorry,” she bowed her head in reverence. “I mean yes, Master.”

I couldn’t stop staring. I’d played games like this before, but this was different. The way Chase gazed down at her with a combination of authority and adoration. How her entire body sagged when he tsked? She really didn’t like disappointing him? Why? What did she get out of it?

He clapped his hands, making me jump along with Grace.

“Eyes up here!”

I shifted in the chair. Something about the tone of his voice got to me. It stirred something.

“Bratty little slut, I should spank you.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Grace licked her lips and nodded. I couldn’t help but remember the first time I met Chase. What his hand felt like coming down on my ass, over and over again.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Teaching you the lesson your daddy should’ve.’

“All fours now,” Chase barked out, “I want your ass in the air.”

Grace didn’t waste a second. She dropped her face down on the ground and stuck her ass up in the air. I waited in eager anticipation as Chase walked off-screen and then came back with his shirt off.

My eyes traveled over the dips and groves in his torso and down to the V dipping into his jeans. He really was built well.

He sauntered over to Grace, roughly yanked her pants down over her hips, and then smoothed his palm across her ass.

Just spank her already. What was he waiting for?

“Is this what you want?”

Grace whimpered and nodded her head.

“You want me to turn this ass red?”

“Goddammit,” I slammed my hands down on the desk in frustration. “Just do it already.”

“Just do what?”

I stopped dead and slowly lifted my gaze. Tanner was standing in the doorway with his hip cocked against the frame. I quickly slammed the laptop shut.

The corner of Tanner’s mouth curled. “What were you watching?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh no, no, no, Princess,” he pushed off the door and waltzed his way across the room. “You seem to forget I fucked mommy.”

My eyes narrowed.

“So?” Who hadn’t? My mother was well known to the slum kings in my hometown. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He flattened his palms on the desk and leaned in. “You both have the same flush in your neck when you’re ashamed.”

How dare he! I was not ashamed, and I sure as hell wasn’t anything like my mother.

“What do you want?” I snarled back at him.

“I came to get you, Sweetheart. Chase has had enough of daddy’s bullshit.”

Good, I’m glad daddy was giving him a hard time. Still. . .

I eyed him and crossed my arms. “What do you mean you came to get me?”

A slow smile spread across his face.