A Sl*ut?

ALEX

One of them was seated on the king-sized bed, favoring a vape in his hands, dressed in a three-piece navy suit. The other one was shirtless, standing, and seemed deep into whatever he was reading from his phone. He had bold tattoos drawn from his arms to his chest.

The last one had a black shirt hanging on his shoulder, but he was yet to put it on. He had just one tattoo drawing, on his heart area, like a comic parody of — is that Cat Woman?

And more than that, he emitted a darker aura than the other two.

For the love of God, are those abs even real? They were all so fucking ripped, like those men who give hardcore BDSM fucks in those p**n videos I watch with Gilda.

Oh gosh! Was this the sex suite?

The one sitting seemed ripped, as his shirt fit him like a glove, stretching out his muscles, and also the one standing with a phone, he was fucking ripped. But the one dressed in black and had a shirt on his shoulder? He was fucking shredded. A buff fellow, my God!

There was a small table between them, and it had ashtrays and cigarette stubs scattered on it. There were whitish substances that I could swear was cocaine. What the hell have I gotten myself into? My heart increased it's tempo.

"Is she really doing that right now?" The one with the phone asked with a slight chuckle and in a deep baritone. "Did she really just barge in here and literally been ogling at us, or is it just my imagination?"

"Nah, I think she's really doing that. And here I was, thinking I've seen it all," The one seated replied with a bit of irritation, blowing out a ring of smoke from his nose and mouth. Another deep sensational voice. Husky too.

Who are these guys?

Not guys, exactly. MEN. Full-grown ass men. Far from my league. I've never found older men to be sexy, but right now, I couldn't help the dirty thoughts garnering in my mind.

"Fucking speak!" A guttural, deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I was forced back to reality.

My eyes ran through them and landed on the one dressed in black with a shirt hanging on his shoulder. The buff one. He owned the voice, and it was nothing like the other two men. It was menacing and unnerving. Had chills rushing down my spine.

"I'm —" I gulped, clearing my throat and trying to control the irregular beating of my heart. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just —" A loud bang on the door cut me off, forcing me to let out an involuntary shriek.

"Alex, I know you're in there. Open the damned door!" Noah yelled, banging harder on the door.

"Who the fuck is that?" The one seated asked, with a scowl on his face. He stood, staring over my shoulder at the door.

I suddenly felt vulnerable. I had to choose. These men that looked like p**n stars and mafia, or the sick cheating Noah just beyond the door. The odds didn't look great.

"Alex?" The one with the phone asked, with an arch of his brow, "Is that you?"

I nodded vehemently, trembling from the heat of the threats Noah was yelling from outside and from the dead glares they were giving me—especially the buff one.

"Open the door," The one with the phone demanded calmly, his lips stretched out in a thin smile, displaying two cute dimples.

I can't believe I just called him cute!

And what did he just say? O–open the door?

"I can't," I shook my head, almost breaking into tears, "He's gonna hurt me. He has a knife —"

"Open the damned door!" He repeated; his smile was gone and replaced with a monstrous scowl.

I flinched, and without hesitation, I opened the door and ran to go stand behind the one who held a phone.

Noah burst inside, raged and furious. "I'm gonna slice you into pieces, bitch!" But then he froze, at the sight of the men, hiding the knife behind him. Coward!

**************

REED ALCATRAZ

Okay, what the fuck was going on? First, a damsel in distress barged in on us. A 'sexy' damsel, if I was being fucking honest. And now, a jackass with a knife? What the fuck was up with Denver people? Weren't they taught how to knock on the fucking door?!

"What you got behind you?" Rhys asked the intruder, standing firmly to provide some kind of coverage over the girl that had run behind him.

"No–none of your fucking business," The man stuttered, eyes flared up. This was clearly dutch courage. He was fucking high on some shit. I should know. We fucking deal on those shit. We own them. We run them.

"What?" Rhys chuckled, but we all knew there was about to be bloodshed. The jackass was asking for it.

Slowly, Rhys stalked the man and then grabbed his arm, twisting it until it gave a hard crack, and the knife fell. His screams were really deafening.

"If you're gonna carry a knife around, you should at least have enough balls to use it, right?" Rhys mocked him, still twisting his arm behind him.

The man winced, "I got enough balls to use it–"

"Enough balls, my ass!" I snorted, stepping forward. "You just screamed a second ago like you're being fucked hard through your asshole. What real man does that? And you're chasing around a girl. That makes you a fucking punk,"

"What were you gonna do with the knife?" Rhys quizzed him, finally letting him go. The man almost hit the ground. He turned to us with revamped rage, pointing at the girl.

"She's a fucking slut. I paid her up, but she wouldn't let me fuck her pussy. Suddenly, she's playing the Saint. Acting fucking chaste!"

"That's a lie," The girl chirped in, still trembling. "He fucked my colleague and wants to fuck me too. I'm not a slut. He's just a damned asshole!"

Feisty little girl! I mused.

Clearly, I wasn't the only one stunned by her heated comeback. Rhys was breaking into smiles, and Rhett, although he's always stern, had a flicker in his eyes as he glanced at her.

We didn't need to look at each other to know we were all thinking the same thing — what hurricane swept in here in the form of a girl?

"You shut the fuck up," The man clenched out and dared to point at us. "I'm gonna have y'all arrested. I don't care if you're some top-notch bouncers…"

Bouncers?! Why? 'Cause we got some abs and muscle?

"... I'm gonna have y'all arrested, and then maybe, you'd learn to mind your fucking business!" The man completed his empty threats.

He's gonna have us arrested in a crappy town like Denver? This must be a sick joke! If arresting us was so easy, then we wouldn't have the CIA clamoring for some fucking assistance to pin us the fuck down? Who the hell was this punk?

"I think I've had enough of your bullshit," Rhett finally spoke up. He'd barely said two words since this mess started.

The pecs on his chest twitched as he stalked the man standing in front of Rhys. He was the buff one — the menace of the group—the monster of the 'Alcatraz brothers.' Easily gets anyone trembling at the sight of him. I might be the oldest, but Rhett had the built.

The man cowered in fear as Rhett stalked him until his back was against the door. He bent in fear as Rhett lifted his hand, and I, for one, knew he was battling to keep his mafia side in check.

Denver was not fully our territory. Besides this messy thing would create a scandal and affect our stay in this place and their business. The last thing we needed in this sick town was that kind of scandal.

"Get lost," He breathed out, slamming the hand on the door and making the man jerk in fear.

"And stay lost," Rhys added, joining him where he stood. "Don't ever appear in front of her again,"

"Or we're gonna rip your head off and shove it down the toilet seat. Just fair warning," I added, feeling amused at the raw fear on the man's face. I miss moments like this, you know, brewing fear in the mind of weak jerks.

Rhys seemed to be bottling down a burst of heated laughter too, but Rhett, nah, he was boiling up with fury. Rhett knew nothing about feeling amused. All he knew was rage.

"Fuck off," the man sputtered in fear, opened the door, and ran off. Rhys chuckled at his cowardly exit. But then he quieted down, and we were reminded of the girl.

She was watching us with fear, and a bit of consternation, like she just enjoyed the show.

"I should leave," She mumbled, taking slow steps to the door.

"Not so fast," Rhys stepped in front of her. "So, uh, you're a…" he began, swiping his gaze over her body, then he smirked and added, "a slut?"