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Devil’s Sweetheart

LEXI GRAY
Copyright © 2023 by Lexi Gray
All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical
methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact authorlexigray@gmail.com.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and
products is intended or should be inferred.
Created with Vellum
My lovelies…we’re mixing it up a smidge with a softer, sweeter story to cleanse the palate (ish)!
Don’t worry though, it’s going to be just as dirty.
For you.
P.S. - please don’t hate me.
 Contents

Triggers
1. Birdie
2. Scout
3. Birdie
4. Birdie
5. Scout
6. Scout
7. Birdie
8. Birdie
9. Birdie
10. Scout
11. Birdie
The End…
Just Kidding!
Crisis Hotlines
About the Author
More by the Author
 Triggers

Off-screen historical virginity rape

Open-Door Sex Scenes
BDSM
Fast burn
Breeding Kink
Pregnancy
Possessive MMC
 Birdie

T
he backroads leading to the vineyard are silent, minus the breeze that echoes through the leaves of the trees. The roads are
covered completely in snow and ice, the sides of the dirt road almost piled as tall as me.
It’s later than I’d like it to be, but we all know the saying ‘duty calls’. A known client decided to stop by late in the
afternoon, and the VP of Sales here at the Vineyard, Viviana, asked that I stay back and assist. Something about my innocent
face and ability to charm older men.
Right after she asked me, I took a bathroom break to text Scout. He’s usually the one that gets me to and from work. After
about ten minutes, there still wasn’t a response. Looking at his location, I completely forgot that he was covering a late night
shift tonight at Rusty’s Dive Bar. The little joint is slowly transforming from a mom and pop dive bar to another classic chic
location.
It’s just after midnight, and I still don’t have a response. It’s a Friday night which so happens to be the weekend before
Valentine's day. Hopefully he’s making good tips off the single college girls around town. That man has abs for days and I’ve
debated on wrecking our friendship just to be able to lick them myself.
Bad news is that I’m going to have to walk several miles through the woods in pitch darkness to get into town, which is the
only way to get to Rusty’s. Living in the bum fuck boonies of Gideon Lake. Buses don’t even run this late, and there aren’t any
available Ubers near me. If I paid for an Uber out here, it’d be an arm and a leg. So, I either walk to the bar and be miserable
or I call Scout and be an inconvenience. In an awkward debate between me, myself, and I, we all agree to not bother Scout.
Exercise is always good for the heart and body. Just thinking about calling him for a ride gives me freaking heart
palpitations. Honestly, it’s worse than a bad orgasm. In an awkward debate between me, myself, and I, we all agree to not
bother Scout. Exercise is always good for the heart and body. Just thinking about calling him for a ride gives me freaking heart
palpitations. Honestly, it’s worse than a bad orgasm.
The longer I walk, the more time my brain has to conjure up scenarios of torment. It wasn’t too long ago that something of
mine was taken away from me without permission in a situation much like this one…
“Stop it,” I croak to myself. “You don’t need others, put your damn big girl panties on.” Even as I try to give myself a pep-
talk, all I can think about is the things he did to me. The shroud of darkness feels near suffocating. And when a car horn beeps
at me, I damn near jump out of my skin.
“Birdie?” Sofia shouts, leaning over Massimo in the driver’s seat. A tight lipped smile extends on my cheeks, an awkward
wave in salute.
“Yup, that’s me,” I chuckle oddly. Unsure of what to do with myself, I shove my hands back into my pockets and kick a
rock.
“Oh gosh, girl! You aren’t freezing?” She exclaims loudly, shoving at Massimo to put the car in park. My mouth drops open,
then slams closed. An action I repeat over and over again because I have no clue what’s going on.
“Uhm, no,” I draw out, more like a question. Rounding the car, she gathers me in her arms and ushers me to the car. I can’t
do anything besides follow her lead. The stammering in my chest is back, the feeling of being an inconvenience suddenly
overwhelming. “You don’t have to give me a ride, I’m not that far away.”
“Nonsense,” Massimo booms, cutting me off. “I’ve seen your apartment. Not only do you live nearly twenty miles out, but
it’s almost freezing outside. Get in the car.” My muscles snap into action as I push forward to get into the vehicle. Like a damn
control switch flicked, I can’t not do what he’s telling me.
Shutting the door softly behind me, Sofia rounds back to the passenger seat. “Why didn’t you tell us you didn’t have a
ride?” She asks, obviously annoyed but concerned.
“Oh, well, I didn’t-it wasn’t-Scout was-,” I stumble over myself trying to come up with a valid reason as to why I was
walking.
 “Birdie.” Our eyes snap to Massimo, who meets mine through the mirror. “You act as if we aren’t familiar with you. The
terror you felt? I saw it bleeding from your eyes. We know you. Remember that.” Putting the car in drive, the rest of our journey
is utterly silent.
He’s not wrong though. It was the talk of the town for a while that I pursued charges against him. If it weren’t for Scout…
Shaking my head, I don’t really want to think about that. Street lights suddenly come into view, then they’re whizzing by.
There’s no real point in trying to focus on the things around me when Scout plagues most of my thoughts. Whether they’re good
thoughts about how badly I want to kiss him, or ones about how he saved me from myself, they just seem to drift back to him.
Three years ago, I’d imagined saving myself for marriage. My husband was going to be the person to have me in my
entirety. Not because of religion, just that I wanted to be able to give my life partner the best gift of all. Then, it was taken from
me. Ripped out of my hands by a stranger with a vendetta against the man I’ve had a crush on for almost my whole life.
Weirdly, I’ve planned Scout and I’s wedding since the beginning. Then, after everything happened, I decided that being solo
is better than having someone take something you’ve dreamed of away from you. I never want to experience that dread again.
“Birdie, we’re here,” Sofia calls, bursting me out of my bubble.
“Oh,” I mumble, the street lights no longer moving as we pull up outside Scout and I’s complex. “Thank you. I appreciate
it.” She reaches backward and gives my hand an almost motherly squeeze. There’s not a huge age difference between us, maybe
only six or seven years, but it’s reassuring nonetheless.
“You know we’re here for you.” Pulling her hand away, Massimo gets out of the car and opens the door for me. A slight
blush creeps over my cheeks at the chivalry. It’s a dying breed, but not for men who were raised in blood shed.
“Call if you need anything.” They wait until I get to my front door and unlock it before driving away. Darkness shrouds
over me once more as I step into the entryway. Leaving the lights off, I toe off my shoes and head straight for our room. My
body drags with me as exhaustion sets in.
Showering be damned, I’m going to bed.
 Scout

R
usty’s is booming with folks of all ages. The cranky regulars bitch about the music playing on the jukebox while the
college crowd spins around rhythmically. Grabbing the wash rag, I wipe away the small liquid droplets and place the
finger full of whiskey in front of Paul.
“Man, you know these kids just keep getting sluttier and sluttier,” he grunts, bringing the drink to his lips and slamming it
back. I can’t help but laugh. My phone rings in my pocket. Drying my hands, I pull it out and catch an unknown number. I mute
the device and place it on the counter.
“You not going to get that?” Dennis grunts, sloshing his own tumbler as the device buzzes loudly. The same unknown
number flashes across my screen before disappearing. Seconds later, it pops back up. Sighing heavily, I grab it and make my
way outside.
“Cupid, I’m going on break!” I shout down the bar, not waiting for a reply. We’re not super busy since we’re getting closer
and closer to closing time, but I figure it’s better than leaving him without any warning at all.
Stepping into the cool air of Coal’s Lake, my phone buzzes harshly in my palm. “Yo?” I call, leaning myself against the
brick wall of the bar.
“Scout Ashbluff?” A gruff voice askes.
“Who’s asking?” The voice sounds awfully familiar, and I can’t quite place who but my spine straightens painfully as I try
to remember.
“This is Massimo, owner of Vinonova Vineyard,” he starts, and a female voice snaps at them from the background. A small
ruffling happens before said female takes the phone.
“Hi, this is Sofia. I got your number from Birdie’s emergency contact list, it has you as her roommate. My husband and I
wanted to tell you that we dropped her off at your place in Gideon Lake.” My brow furrows as I try to recall talking with
Birdie. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I realize it’s just past one in the morning. There are several texts from Birdie
through the evening.
The ride to Gideon Lake is several miles from here, let alone another fifteen miles outside of town. We’d been slammed at
the bar tonight, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to even tell her to call me when she needed a ride. Cursing softly, I put the phone
back to my ear.
“Thank you for ensuring she made it home safely,” I thank them, my tone filled with absolute gratitude. I’ve failed as a
friend.
“Gosh,” she scoffs, and I swear I can hear a head shake. “Can you believe she was trying to walk? We damn near had to
kidnap her just to give her a ride!”
“I’m actually not surprised,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair. The air is chilly, and my breaths come out in puffs
of air.
“Either way, just wanted to let you know.” We say our quick goodbyes before I finally read through all of her messages.
BIRDIE
Hey! Just letting you know I’m going to be late tonight. Some big wig is showing up

Ooooh, it was some dude from TikTok wanting to get samples.

Are you busy at work?
I’m taking your silence as a yes lol I’ll let you know when I get home.
I’m off work, are you free?
Again, silence as a sign that you’re not. Be safe!
 Cursing, I dial her number, only to be met by her voice mail immediately. I try again, only to get the same outcome. Tapping
my foot, it takes everything in me not to leave this god-forsaken bar and track her down. I’m also a little pissed off that she
hasn’t shared her location with me. Her bosses called and ensured she was home safe. But can a fucking phone call be enough?
Unfortunately, I know how Birdie is. She probably sat there for ten minutes trying to decide whether or not to even call me.
We’ve known each other since we were infants, and if it hadn’t been for that fateful night…
I can’t let myself wonder about those horrible thoughts. She’s safe. She’s fine. She can wait until I get off…though, it
doesn’t hurt to just try one more time.
Shouting from inside the bar takes my attention away from my persistent dialing. Ending the call, I shove the damn thing
away and hurry inside. I almost crash into one of the rock-for-brains bouncers, who looks caught in the headlights. We’re
around the same height, I’m maybe a couple inches taller at six foot two.
“What the fuck is going on?” I shout, halting everyone in their tracks. “I step outside for ten minutes and come back to a
fucking shit show?”
“Man, these rowdy kids were stomping their feet on my end of the bar!” Dennis hollers as he points to a group of college
girls. “Half naked, I could see her damn coochie! No offense, but I ain’t wantin’ to see that shit. I asked them to get on their end,
then she spat in my drink!”
“Alright, wrap it up everyone,” I shout, twirling a finger above my head. “We’re not doing this tonight. Tabs are closing out
now. Make a line at the railing and get your ID ready.”

After what felt like all night, I put the rest of the glasses on the rack for tomorrow. I didn’t expect tonight to turn out like this.
Dennis and Paul were all too happy to make a report on the college girl who was drunk out of her mind. I took their statements,
then put them in the shred box. Grown ass men acting like fucking children, I scoff at the thought alone.
Looking at the time, it’s just after three in the morning.
“Fuck,” I curse, running a hand through my hair. It’s still damp from the dishes I washed. It catches on a few pieces, the tugs
harsh enough to keep me grounded and focused.
It’s fucking pathetic how my chest tightens in fear for the one woman I’ve been in love with since I can remember. I’m
pretty sure I told our families I was going to marry her one day. She laughed at me and acted like it was nothing. In reality, the
damn organ in my chest beats only for her. I’ve tried to call her a couple of times, but they’ve all gone to voice mail. Once I
finally sent her a text, it didn’t even push it through as delivered. So, she must have shut her phone off or let it die.
I wouldn’t be surprised by either one.
Her bosses assured she’d gotten home safely. They confirmed that they dropped her off at our apartment in Gideon Lake.
Heart constricting tightly, I hastily get into my car and zoom back to the house. Traffic is light at this time, but getting
stopped by a Stater is the last thing I want to do. So, I weave through the backroads until our janky complex comes into view.
Taking the stairs two at a time, my hands shake harshly, I round the corner and stop dead in my tracks. The door’s slightly
ajar.
 Birdie

“Y ou’re such a naughty girl,” he grunts, moving my hair aside and gripping my neck tightly. Harsh bricks scrape into
my cheek, the tip of my nose barely touches the rough wall. His one hand holds both of mine hostage, not letting up
even while I struggle to regain control over myself.
“Get off me,” I squeak through the pressure. A whimper makes its way through my tightly clenched throat. His breath is
rancid against my face, almost like his mouth is rotting.
“You were wearing this short, short scrap of material. Weren’t you just asking for it?”
“Birdie!” A voice shouts, body getting violently shaken. On instinct, I swing out. The person grabs my wrist, pulling me
into them. Thrashing, I can’t let him get me again.
“It’s okay, baby bird,” the masculine voice mutters. Those four words and the scent of pine are all it takes for me to
crumble against him.
“I’m sorry.” He continues to shush me as tears trail down my cheeks. Slowly dragging my hands between us, I ball his shirt
in my fists.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for not being there for you tonight.” The watery giggle comes out of me before I
can stop it.
“Oh, Scout,” I sniffle, “you have nothing to apologize for either.” He pulls away from me a bit, flicking between my eyes.
“If I’d have been here, you wouldn’t have these nightmares,” he counters, petting my hair gently. His fingers run through the
knotted ends, untangling them gently.
“You can’t save me from everything.” When I first started having nightmares, I tried my best to hide them from everyone. I
was too embarrassed and ashamed of myself to tell anyone what happened, let alone that my brain was forcing me to remember
all of it.
Then, something just…clicked. We accidentally fell asleep on the couch watching movies one night. He’d gone up to bed,
and I stayed on the sofa with a blanket draped over me. According to him, I woke up kicking and screaming my lungs out about
him. Scout found me, scooped me into his arms, and my whimpering sleepy self admitted everything to him. I don’t even
remember it happening, that’s how disoriented I was.
He convinced me to go back upstairs and cuddle it out. It’s what we would do if we were having a hard time, that’s what
best friends would do for each other. That night, I didn’t have a single nightmare. The next night, again, nothing. It was at that
time we both realized that I felt more than safe with him.
This is the second time I’ve had to sleep without him.
“I sure as hell can try.” His eyes shone with need, one that I’m not sure I’m reading right. “You have to know what you
mean to me, baby bird,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine. My eyes flutter closed on their own accord, happiness
squeezing my heart.
“I don’t…” I honestly don’t know what to say.
“Do you not feel this?” He mutters, leaning his forehead against mine. I’m really just…stunned. “If you don’t, just say
something. Anything. Tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
For some fucked up reason…I can’t tell him no. It’s not because I can’t.
I don’t want to.
“Please,” I whisper, tilting my chin ever so slightly to reach him. I know exactly what I’m asking for. Without further
hesitation, he slants his plush lips over mine. The unsettled piece of my heart seems to click into place as he devours me
whole. I’ll admit the mountain man in front of me doesn’t scare me. If anything, he seems to push my wildest dreams further
than they’ve ever gone. Like this one. My late-night rendezvous of touching myself to his wicked smirk blossoms in front of my
eyes.
 Hands roam over one another, clothes gripped and yanked as we frantically try to undress each other. My shirt is the first
thing to come off, catching him off guard when I’m not wearing a bra.
“Wait,” he breathes and jerks himself backward, almost as if I burned him. “Wait.” Running his long fingers through his
thick hair, my heart hammers against my chest, threatening to jump straight into my throat.
“I-I’m sorry.” I swallow thickly as I try to come to terms with the rejection. Being honest with myself, I’m not nearly in the
same league as him. He’s got the whole dark and broody thing going for him, while I’m just…well, me. Where he’s pure
muscle, I’m soft. My stomach isn’t toned, my ass and thighs jiggle as I walk and show hints of cellulite. I’ve got small stretch
scars on my butt where I grew into myself too fast. While I’ve tried everything I can to lose weight, it’s just not coming off
without medical help.
He huffs a mirthless laugh, shaking his head harshly. “Baby bird, it’s not you.” He plops onto the bed, dropping his head
into his hands. “I didn’t mean to throw myself at you. I’m sorry.”
I can’t help the ridiculous laugh that bursts out of me. I decide to throw caution to the wind. If that’s not an admission of
attraction, then either I’m fucking dumb or that’s the sign I need. “You’re an utter idiot,” I giggle, throwing myself back into his
arms. “I just want these nightmares to go away.”
Lips land, teeth clatter, hands roam. I swear he even growls when his hands grasp my ass and kneed. Yanking his mouth
away, he uses his nose to shove my head to the side and kiss down my neck. He sucks the skin under my ear, moving until he
hits the spot. Grinding down on his covered cock, the friction is perfect. I could cum just like this.
“You don’t know the things I’d do to you,” he growls, biting my flesh harshly. One hand tangles into my hair at the base of
my skull and yanks backward, jerking my head. “You’d look beautiful tied up in knots, begging to cum on my tongue, on my
fingers, on my cock.”
His filthy words have my hips rocking even more, his jeans barely giving me what I need now that we’ve shifted slightly.
“Please,” I whimper, the plea continues to fall from my lips. There’s a groan of satisfaction before he’s flipping us over,
pinning his heavy body beneath mine. I reach to tangle my hands in his hair too, when he grabs them at the wrist and yanks them
above my head.
“These stay,” he commands. Every instinct has me listening without fault. “What are you begging for, baby? My tongue,
fingers, or cock?” Words don’t seem to want to formulate in my brain. Instead, I ramble continued pleas for him to just choose
something.
His hot tongue swirls my taught nipple. “I want your cock, please,” I beg. He does the one thing I don’t expect.
He stands, stepping several feet away. “Stay.”
 Birdie

H
eart jumping into my throat, I debate whether to sit up and cover myself or not. Almost like rejection, I swear my
hormones jump all over the place. The only reason I’m unwavering? That simple command. My toes threaten to curl into
the sheets, fingers ball into fists as I fight myself to remain unmoving.
“Do you trust me?” He questions as the button on his jeans pops free. His hard erection presses harshly against his zipper,
even after he releases the binding. “I need an answer. Do you trust me?”
“You know I do.” A wicked smirk plasters itself on his lips. Taking several more steps away, he spins on his heel and
makes a beeline to his closet.
Clattering and shuffling peaks my curiosity. Right as I make my mind up and start scooting off the bed, he comes out with
several items in his arms. The possessive gleam in his eyes has me taking my place on the bed again. He doesn’t say anything
about the fact that I’ve just moved.
“I think you’d appreciate these,” he assures, grabbing a small wad of rope and pulling it out. It’s bright pink, unlike the
usual red or black colored ones. “It’s Shibari rope, so it’s soft and pliant but strong. I figured you would appreciate the color
choice. It was chosen just for you.” Holding it out to me, he lets the smooth material caress my hand. A soft giggle escapes me
at the comment. My favorite color is actually blue, but we always talk about how pink really suits my skin tone. He’d said the
color made me look angelic. I remember snorting in disbelief but playing along. After some debate, we agreed that I’d only
allow pink things to tie me up. I thought the conversation was simply metaphorical.
Thank goodness I was wrong.
“What other goodies do you have?” I whisper, the tone coming out more seductive than I realize. It’s then I notice my thighs
are tightly pressed together, trying to relieve the pressure on their own. Shuffling closer to him, he smirks at my curiosity.
“Well, I was thinking we’d start small.” He undoes the rope, letting the strand unwind. “However, I think you could handle
a little more than small.” There’s an innuendo in there somewhere but…
“And is that why I’m the only one naked?” His shirt lay discarded next to us on the floor, where all of my clothes also
remain. There’s a small wet spot where I was humping him like my orgasm depended on it.
Which, I suppose it did.
“I prefer to have my pants on while I pleasure you,” he quips. Moving to me quickly, he doesn’t give me any time to
respond before I’m flipped over onto my stomach, arms stretched above my head. My poor brain spins from the rapid
movement. It barely registers that he’s using that silky pink rope to cuff my hands together above my head. Giving a gentle tug,
he waits for my reaction. It’s simple, elegant. Perfect for us.
Us. What a thought to have.
“Us,” I blurt, causing him to freeze in his tying.
“What about us?” Wrapping the cord around the metal bars of the bed, he brings it back and ties a simple knot. I’ll have to
ask him how he learned all of this.
“You and me…” I murmur, shoving my face in the mattress. My cheeks heat rapidly at the failure of my brain to mouth filter.
A tight grip is tangled in the back of my hair, pulling my head off the bed to look at him.
“What about us?” He asks again, and there’s no denying the heat in his gaze.
“After this…” I can’t seem to get that damn filter to spit any words out. “What happens to us?”
“Easy,” he shrugs and sets my head back on the mattress gently. His fingers move hair away from my face. “You’re mine
after tonight, baby bird.” Smashing his plush lips against mine, he dominates me from this submissive pose. Neck turned quite
far, he controls every aspect of this kiss.
“Please,” I whimper, the sound surprising me more than him.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he coos. My bottom lips gets sucked between his teeth, soft nibbles meeting the swollen flesh. “I plan
to tie you to me forever.” His teeth sink into the skin, and the cry of pain slips. The sharp sting is immediately soothed by his
hot tongue, and a heartbeat forms in my clit.
He breezes over my hot skin with the tips of his fingers, cool air playing over me. Taking a few steps back, the male of pure
muscle rounds the bed and out of my line of vision. Seconds tick by as I wait for something, anything, to happen.
“I’m going to make you cum several times before I stretch this tight pussy,” he mutters, the air from his words cast over my
heated core, and I jolt. A sharp swat lands on my ass. The quick shrill of pain zings up my spine before his hand smooths the
spot, bringing me back to bliss.
“That’s a good fucking girl.” His tongue lands on my clit, and again, I can’t help my hips from stuttering. The sensation is
unreal. Since the incident, I’ve been too scared to have any real connections with men. Was my brain a block from reaching
out? Maybe. It may also be because of the golden tanned male currently eating my pussy like it’s going to be his last meal.
Purely surreal. Unlike any sensation a measly vibrator can give me.
A sudden flame lights in my core.
“You like this pussy?” I mewl, rocking back into his face as much as I can. He growls onto my core, sucking my clit and
pulsing it between his tongue and teeth.
“I’m going to fucking flood this cunt with my cum. You’re mine, and there’s no fucking changing that.” A single finger sinks
into me, angling and hitting that spot.
“Yes!” I cry and fist the rope. I attempt to pull myself on my elbows, but a quick smack to my ass has me face planting back
into the mattress.
“Cum for me, like a good little bird.” And I fucking do. Clouds storm my mind, masking every potential thought I could
possibly have, and forcing me to ride out my pleasure. Waves upon waves crash over me as he adds another finger, working my
overly sensitive clit more and more.
“Please,” I sob and wiggle, trying to get him to stop. He ignores my plea for more and pulls his fingers from my pussy.
Warm fingers drag from my clit to my opening…then further. Pressing a single digit to my asshole, my back bows further.
Another new sensation ready to overwhelm me.
“You want me to use you like a dirty bird? Fuck and flood your cunt with my cum until I properly breed you?” Somewhere
in the back of my mind, my brain is screaming that I don’t have birth control. The other, less logical side is shouting in victory.
“I’ll stretch this tight hole and fuck it until I nearly explode, then shove my cock back into your pussy to make sure my cum
takes.”
I swear my brain misfires because…that idea sounds amazing right now.
 Scout

J
ust as I push my thumb into her tight hole, it clamps impossibly tighter. Releasing a groan of approval, I glide my free hand
over her tight globes and kneed the soft flesh between my calloused fingers. Her whimpers get rougher as my thumb pushes
all the way to my last knuckle.
I pull it out, deciding our first time doesn’t need to be obscene. Gripping her cheeks, I spread her fully for my viewing. Her
pussy flutters, both of her tight holes clenching and releasing.
“You like that, baby bird?” I mutter, licking a single stroke from her clit to her asshole. The mumble from her is incoherent,
and I can’t say that I approve. Without missing a beat, I sink my teeth into her tight ass cheek.
“Shit!” She shouts and rocks forward in an attempt to get away from me. In a punishment like form, I slam two fingers
inside her aching pussy and roughly find her spot. She doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, the noises she’s spewing spur me on, my
cock tightening even more painfully in the heavy material of my jeans as liquid gushes from her. Pouring down my fingers and
onto the bed, I attempt to catch as much of it as possible, but I’m only human. Instead, I lick along her thighs and redeem some
of it.
“You taste fantastic when you cum.” Her entire body quakes in pleasure.
“Please, please,” she chants over and over, her fists tightening and releasing the soft pink rope. Smoothing my bite away
with my tongue, I soften my strokes inside her.
“I can’t wait to see you in a harness of ropes,” I growl, sucking her clit into my mouth for a moment. “Have your tits tied
up, maybe even shinju.” Reaching between her wet thighs, I roughly pinch one of her taut nipples, pulling downward.
“Yes,” she gasps with a nod, desperation pouring from her words. I don’t doubt that she has absolutely no idea what any of
that means, but just from this moment alone…I think she’d be willing to try anything once.
With me.
“What do you want?” I tease again, knowing damn well she would bite my head off if she wasn’t restrained to the bed.
“You know what I want,” she snarls dangerously. My cock twitches in my jeans. I’m sure she thinks she looks like the
devil, but she’s more like a sweetheart.
She’ll learn who the devil is before long.
“Awe, that’s not how needy whores get what they want,” I coo degradingly. My body freezes as hers tenses, only to have
her shove her hips backwards into me harshly.
“Now,” she demands.
Who am I to resist?
“What do you say?” Yanking her hips higher, I move off the bed. My jeans hit the floor heavily, and I’m right back behind
her.
“Fucking please,” she whines, nearly choking out a sob of frustration.
“I suppose since you're such a good girl…” I don’t give her any time to adjust. I shove myself into her wet heat and nearly
burst right then and there. She’s tighter than any fucking pocket pussy I’ve had. Images and visions of how she felt don’t add up
to the real thing.
A happy sigh escapes my innocent girl, her head resting on the pillow as I jerk out of her, only to slam balls deep. Only the
whites of her eyes are visible as I use her pussy for the taking.
“You like to be fucked like my dirty slut?” I growl, my body taking over for my mind. It’s as if we’ve been doing this for
years. We just…click. The chemistry is there, active, and my balls draw into my body so tightly I might be able to taste them if
they get any higher.
“Yours,” she shrieks, back bowing even further as I pound her into the next week. I knew this wasn’t going to fucking last
long…
 “This is my fucking pussy, do you understand?” I grunt, reaching between her cushioned thighs and stroking her erect nub.
“Yes!” Glee fills my chest, pride soaking through my pores.
“Tell me what you want with my cum.”
“Cum in me, fuck it into me, I need your cum,” she chants over and over, throwing us both over the edge simultaneously.
Her screams echo around my brain as if I’m under water. Landing on her back, my teeth sink into the soft skin between her neck
and shoulder, marking her as mine for everyone to see.
The desire is fucking animalistic, and I know she likes it because it launches her into another fucking orgasm.
Her pussy milks my cock of cum. I stay rooted inside of her, locked and ready to have her cervix take my sperm and turn it
into something more.
 Scout

S
un shining between the blinds, it casts right over my eyes. Groaning, I roll until I hit the soft, warm body of Birdie. Except,
she’s naked. Her beautiful body is on display for me, her hair cast over the pillow like a halo as she drools into the cover
face first. The soft blanket drapes over her plush ass, her back exposed, and leaving just enough to the imagination.
Flashbacks of the last night stream through my brain like an old movie, and I can’t stop the male pride from blossoming. I
have no fucking clue if she’s in her cycle thing or not, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to bang my chest and roar like a
fucking lion.
My cock stands directly at her, waiting to sink back into her warm, wet heat. Not that I’d think she’d mind.
Last night was unlike anything I’d experienced. Not only did she let me tie her hands, she let me lay her out and tie her legs
to the headboard, perfectly splaying open for me. I’d never realized how flexible she was until last night.
Though, more serious thoughts have been plaguing me this morning. One of my hands instantly reaches for her as the
negativity refuses to leave me alone. My fingers trail over the smooth flesh of her back, admiring how pale and soft it is.
What if it was just one and done? Was it as good for her as it was for me? I mean, judging by the multiple orgasms I gave
her, I’d sure as fuck hope it was.
Propping my head on my hand, I drag my fingers up her back to her head and tuck back a few stray hairs from her face.
“Good morning,” her light brown eyes blink open, a gentle smile gracing her soft features.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Smiling, I lean forward slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away. When she doesn’t, I cup
her small face and plant my lips over hers. Everything about her seems perfect. She just takes everything in stride.
It’s just…right.
Pulling back, she drops her head back on the pillow, giving a silent yawn. Neither one of us speaks as we soak in one
another, letting the warm sun breath over us. There’s still plenty of snow outside to remind us that it’s still freezing, but the
reprieve of the sun is one to relish on.
“I just want-” I start, just as she says “we really should-”. Smiles break out even wider, a blush creeping up her neck and
onto her cheeks.
“You go first,” I chuckle, rolling onto my back and dragging her with me. She follows effortlessly and props her head on
her hands as one of mine settles on her ass. There’s this…twinkle in her eyes that I don’t remember seeing before last night. I
could be a bit biased, but it really was something special.
“Uhm, we should really talk about it,” she smiles, the blush deepening even further. Nodding, I use my eyes to let her go
first. “It was…unexpected to say the least.”
“Baby bird, I’ve been dreaming about this since we met.” She has the innocence to look shocked. I’m no virgin, but every
girl I’ve been with has simply been a placeholder for her. “You’ve been my main priority since the beginning. Then when it
happened…”
“Scout.” I drop a single finger on her mouth, and she sucks it between her teeth. My entire body goes rigid, my deflated
cock suddenly perking up and thinking it’s fucking show time.
Down boy.
“Seeing you shattered, your soul almost sucked from your body…there’s not a shittier feeling than knowing I wasn’t able to
help you. I’ve been making it up to you ever since. You deserve someone willing to save you from your demons, and I’ve been
trying to prove myself worthy to you.”
“You’re more than worthy,” she whispers, placing a kiss on my chest. I don’t stop the smile making its way on my face.
“I think that’s my line,” I tease, tucking more strays away from her face. “I hope I’ve proved to you that I’m worth it. Just
because I’ve finally got you in my arms with your heart on your sleeve doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep winning you over.”
“You’ve had my heart since we met,” she reassures. She pulls herself up my body and runs her nose over mine, resting her
forehead with mine.
Tightly gripping her hair, I ensure she’s staring into my eyes as I lay my card on the table. “From now on, it’s you and me.
You’re mine, do you hear me?” Her chin drops, mouth popping open slightly as her bottom lip gets sucked between her teeth.
Using my free hand, I pull it free and bring her mouth to mine again.
There’s nothing better than having the girl of your dreams in your arms. If only there was a way to know if it would last.
 Birdie

T
he weeks are flying by, Scout and I are growing closer and closer. It’s been five or six weeks since we’ve decided to
move forward with each other, and it’s simply unreal how quickly we’ve jumped into things. Future talks still scare me a
little, but he reassures me that everything is going to be okay. Honestly? I believe him. He’s been nothing but supportive
since we’ve declared our feelings for one another. Not only that, but he’s been my biggest cheerleader since we were kids! I
can’t imagine a life without him here, and it makes everything more real. My perspective is shifting.
“I’m back, and I’ve brought food!” The front door closes as Scout makes himself known. Laughing, I slide off the stool,
catching him in all his glory. His shirt is plastered to his body, emphasizing how well taken care of his body is.
“Did you go to the gym?” I question, my tongue darting from my mouth to wet my lips. This man is delectable.
“Why? Can you tell?” Setting the take-out food on the coffee table, he flexes his arms in one of those muscle daddy poses.
“I mean, the fact that your shirt is practically a second skin…” I trail, too damn distracted as he practically prowls to me.
“You like?” Leaning down to my neck, he inhales deeply. The exhale skates teasingly over my skin, a shiver coasting down
my spine in desire.
“I love.” He pulls back, our eyes not moving from one another. It’s the first time I’ve hinted at anything remotely close to
the L word.
“Good.” Scooping me into his arms, I gleefully laugh and wrap my legs around his waist. His lips slant over mine, our kiss
mixed with lust and smiles.
“I’ve missed you,” he mutters against my lips. My smile grows impossibly wider, and he might as well be kissing teeth.
Instead of responding, I tighten my grip even more on his hulking form and push myself further into the kiss. I attempt to say
everything on my mind through it, hoping he’ll silently understand that I’m falling more and more in love with him every day.
Loosening my legs just a little, I lower until I’m rubbing myself over his cock. He doesn’t flinch, rocking into me more as
we barely make it to the couch.
“You sure you don’t want to eat first?” He rumbles, and I float through the air as he drops me unceremoniously onto the
cushions.
“Who wants to fuck with a full stomach?” I scoff sassily, grabbing a fist full of his hair and yanking him down to me. He
doesn’t deny me of what I want and settles between my open thighs, grinding into my covered pussy with his covered cock. The
musky, woodsy scent wafts off him, like he just put deodorant on after working out. That, or he just naturally smells like a
fucking God. Either one works for me, to be honest.
Slowly, he works my clothing off of me. I knew I should have waited for him naked. Rolling my eyes at the thought, he
grabs my shirt in the middle and pulls. The flimsy material splits into two effortlessly. My breasts bounce in their confines,
waiting to be devoured. Thankfully, they don’t have to wait too long. Lifting me up slightly, he reaches behind my back and
unclasps it.
“You couldn’t have taken my shirt off like a normal person?” I tease, shimmying myself out of the bra.
“I could have, but would it have made your cunt clench?” Welp, I can’t argue with that logic.
Burying his face between my small tits, he licks the salty skin until he sucks one of the taut buds into his warm mouth. I’m
not even sure what noises I’m making at this point, but I know it’s spurring him on. His warm tongue slides over the peak
before his teeth clamp down on it. Hissing, my fingers grip his hair tighter and attempt to yank him away. A wicked gleam
catches my gaze, and he lets me push him back, not without taking my nipple with him between his teeth.
“Shit!” There’s a fine line where pain meets pleasure, and I didn’t realize this was what it felt like. The bouncy flesh
jiggles as it returns to its normal spot. Lashing out, his tongue smooths over the painful spot.
“Did my greedy girl like that?” He growls against my stomach, waiting for the green light.
“Yes,” I whimper, wiggling my hips to give him a hint of what I’m wanting.
 “I have a better idea.” Pushing himself off the couch, he takes a solid step backward. I can’t stop the groan of annoyance
from leaving my throat. “I think you’re really going to like it,” he taunts, wiggling his fingers as he waits for me to grab his
hand. Glaring at his handsome face may as well be a sin. Instead, I huff and grasp his calloused hand in my softer one.
“This better be good.” He just chuckles, dragging me in the opposite direction of the bedroom. “Where are you going?”
“You’ll see.” The look on his face is enough to stop my next impeding questions in their tracks. I follow along silently, and
we stop outside the spare bedroom door. Opening it, I can’t stop my jaw from dropping.
“Holy…” Letting go of my hand, he presses it to my lower back and pushes me forward. There’s a bunch of different stuff
that I didn’t even know existed. One of them looks like a fucking saw horse with padding on it. It shines, so obviously it’s
clean, and it looks like it’s leather.
“What do you think?” I look at him over my shoulder, trying to gauge his own reaction. His lip is tucked between his teeth,
hands stuffed in the pockets of his gym shorts. There’s a look on his face that I can’t quite place. Maybe longing? Suspense?
Hope?
“I mean,” I span my arms out, “this is like my dream jungle.” A shit eating grin opens over his face. “This is what you
turned the third bedroom into?”
“You said I have freedom over it,” he shrugs, grabbing my hand and bringing me closer to his body.
“I didn’t expect you to make a freaking dungeon,” I giggle, unable to help myself from reaching out and touching the silky
pink sheets. “It’s all pink, black, and blue,” I say, though it comes out more like a question.
“I’m respecting your favorite color, my favorite color on you, and black is what most of the toys come in.” The body cross
in the corner is painted black with pink leather cuffs strapped to the corners. The four poster bed is black and pink, but there’s
this honeycomb style grid at the end of the bed that’s dark blue. It sounds like an odd color match, but it really works.
“I love it.” I turn to kiss him, but he takes a single step back.
“You have five minutes to explore and one minute to choose the things you’d like for me to use on you.” His watch makes a
beep, and I take off. There’s so much to see, it’s unreal.
Running around the room, I grab everything I think I’d like, with a smile on my face. A louder beep beep rings around the
room. Dumping all my findings on the bed, he takes a step over and inspects them.
“Good girl,” he growls, striding back to me. With quick work, my hair is skillfully braided and pulled away from my face.
“I want you naked and on your knees by the door by the time I get back.”
 Birdie

I
don’t get to answer as he strides out of the room, letting the door latch close. I only have my skirt and panties on, which I
make quick work of discarding on a spare chair behind the door. Kneeling by the door, I try to figure out what to do with
my hands. After a moment, I decide on setting them on my thighs, the backs of my hands facing upward.
The audible door click pulls me from my thoughts, and I keep my eyes down. I’ve seen enough porn movies to know we
don’t make eye contact.
“You were very close,” he coos, taking my wrist and turning it over. I do the other side on my own, keeping my eyes down.
“Such a good girl, baby bird.”
His hand pets my head, and while I want to scream at him to get his hand off my head, he smooths it down my back.
Twisting my braid in his fist, he gently but sufficiently tugs me from my knees. Leading me over to the giant X, he hikes me up
onto the foot rests.
“Be a good girl, and don’t move, hmm?” Raising a brow, I can see the war behind his eyes. It’s a mix between lust, love,
and something else.
Power?
“Okay,” I breathe out with a nod. Before I can blink, a sharp swat lands on my outer thigh, right by my butt. “Oh!” The sting
is immediately soothed by his large hand.
“You will address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. Do I make myself clear?” His eyes hold a predatory glare, one that has me
fucking melting at the post.
“Yes,” I pause, trailing my eyes down his chiseled body, “master.” Like a snake, he moves effortlessly and gracefully, yet
he strikes quickly as he fastens me into the contraption.
He steps back to admire me for a moment, then turns on his heels to go to the bed where I dropped all the things. Waiting
with bated breath, his fingers skim over the materials one by one, casually throwing glances over his shoulder. I know he’s
trying to get a rise out of me, and it’s working.
Just as I’m about to scream at him to hurry the hell up, he grabs a hot pink and black whip thing that has many little…
strings? Tentacles?
“Do you know what this is?” He questions, rolling the leather in his hand.
“No.” I shake my head, remaining silent while he waits. “Master,” I quickly add after I realize my mistake. “No, master.”
He doesn’t seem to mind my little slip up, because he moves on.
“This is a flogger.” A wicked gleam hits his eyes as a matching smirk makes its way onto his mouth. “These are tresses,” he
rolls the tentacle things, “this is the neck,” he grabs where the tresses meet the stick piece, “and this is the shaft.”
Who knew floggers had anatomy?
“Thank you, Master.” There’s a sense of…freedom I get while standing here. He continues to talk about how it’s used, and
things of that nature, but all I can think about is what it’ll feel like when it makes contact. Will it welt? Will he like it? The
books make it sound a lot easier than it probably is. I mean my pain tolerance is higher than most people-
“Attention!” He commands, and I’m immediately pulled out of my thoughts. “You ignoring me, baby bird?”
“No, Master!” I declare, shaking my head.
“Good, because I would hate to punish you for failing a pop quiz.” A lump grows in my throat, thick and heavy, sitting in
the way of air flow.
Thankfully, he doesn’t give me that quiz, instead dragging the material over my flush skin. It’s cool to the touch and goose
bumps explode in its wake.
He teases between my thighs with the tresses, switching from one side to the other as I try to wiggle my hips and get him
right where I want him.
 Without warning, he whips the flogger down on the inside of my thigh. A burning sting jerks my body before he repeats it on
the other thigh.
“You get as much as I say you get,” he admonishes, another sharp smack landing. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” I gasp, my body buzzing with an unnatural amount of adrenaline. He doesn’t give the usual praise, instead
taking it and swatting my outer thighs. It’s sharp, brinking on the edge of too much.
Just as I’m about to tell him as much, he backs up. There’s an underlying possession in his eyes, one that makes me want to
jump off this damn cross and devour him. It’s almost unnerving.
“Look at you, marked so prettily for me,” he growls, setting the flogger back on the bed before grabbing the plug-in wand I
picked. “I believe you deserve a reward for taking it so nicely.” Rolling it around in his hand, it almost looks like he’s trying to
debate something.
I know better than to say anything without being spoken to, so I keep my lips zipped. Although I’m completely new to this, I
can’t help but feel as though I’m exactly where I need to be.
“You get to pick, baby bird. Wand with the dildo machine or do you want the wand with my cock?”
“Cock, please,” I beg. My brain is so damn foggy and filled with only thoughts of him, things that he should absolutely stop
hesitating on doing. “Please, Master. I need it.” Instead of giving me what I want, he stands there and waits. I disintegrate into a
standing and cuffed puddle of pleas.
“That’s a good girl, yes you do,” he agrees, smirking devilishly. “Now, what should I fill first? Your pussy, or your ass?”
Instead of using his cock like he said, he shoves his fingers straight into my pussy. He pulls me to the point of detonating
before pushing me away from it. Again and again, I get close then get shut down.
I don’t even know if I’m using words at this point. It’s more likely that I’m just wiggling with noises that range from high
pitched screams to low rolling groans. My orgasm races up my spine, just about to peak-
“What the fuck!” I shriek and jerk against the restraints in anger. He only tsks while shutting off the wand. The three fingers
that were stuffed inside me are suddenly shoved in his mouth with a satisfied groan.
“Now, now, baby bird. You’ll eventually get what you want, but I’ll give you what you need.” Dropping the wand, he
releases my hands from the links above my head and slowly lowers them to my sides. He admires the red welts on my body,
obviously getting more aroused.
Dropping to his knees in front of me, his nose gets stuffed between my thighs and inhales deeply. My hands grip his hair
harshly, tugging him closer. When he laps at the juices covering my core, he pushes me to the brink once again before pulling
away. I don’t even get a chance to scream my frustrations. He’s up on his feet and tossing me over his shoulder, then I’m
floating for a mere moment before I hit softness.
Heaviness drops over me before I’m being filled in one swift shove. I can’t breathe, the pleasure overwhelming enough to
force my orgasm from my body.
“Too much,” I gasp, clawing at his back for some type of leverage. Liquid meets my nails, but I don’t think either one of us
cares. His hips slam against mine as he chases his own pleasure, hand gripping my throat and holding me in place. It stops me
from getting shoved up the bed, too.
“You want this perfect pussy stuffed full of my cum, don’t you?” He grunts, and there's a slight tilt in his hips before the tip
of his cock rubs against the perfect spot.
“Oh god,” I cry, reaching between us to rub my clit.
“God isn’t here baby, but I’ll gladly rule your world.” His lips plant over mine, and I shatter on a silent scream, his hand
tightening further on the sides of my neck. I swear he’s saying something, but I can’t hear it past being shattered beneath him.
White flashes behind my closed eyes, my head floats as if there’s not even a bed beneath us. There’s nothing more than us, and I
wouldn’t have it any other way.
 Birdie
FOUR WEEKS LATER

“F ucking hell,” I grumble, resting my head on the cool bar. Viviana rounds the corner on her tablet.
“Woah,” she gasps and comes up next to me. “You’re looking green.” She places a gentle hand on my forehead, and I
can’t stop the bubbling laugh of frustration from coming out.
“I feel green. There’s this platter of cheeses that isn't sitting well with my nostrils. I’ve never had an issue before,” I sigh,
rubbing my hands over my eyes.
“Do you need to go home?” Her eyes shine with concern. Shaking my head, I sit up and my knees threaten to collapse.
“No, I think I need some fresh air.” On shaky legs, I grab my coat and stand in front of the door. Snow lay peacefully on the
ground, opposite of my stomach which is currently mimicking a storm.
“Let me know if you need to go home, we can find coverage.” Nodding, I step into the cool February air. Immediately, I
feel better. There’s nothing more satisfying than being able to cool off after being warm.
“Hey, Viv said you weren’t feeling good?” Sofia says, and I jump slightly, not even realizing she came up to me.
“I’m alright, just a little under the weather.” Smiling, I know she can see right through it. It’s plastic and doesn’t reach my
eyes. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to realize it wasn’t real.
“Mmmm,” she nods and stands silently next to me for a few minutes. “How’s everything going with Scout?”
“Oh, they’re great,” I sigh, blushing deeply at the thought of him. When he said he’d deem himself worthy, he’s gone above
and beyond with everything he’s done. I made it clear a few times that he's done more than enough, but for him, it won’t be
enough.
“You being safe?” Turning toward me, she reaches out a hand with a small blue package sticking out. I’m sure I look
freaking shocked because she just smiles.
“I’m not…” I can’t even finish the sentence because I know it might be true. We’ve not been careful, at all, and he’s made it
abundantly clear his intentions for my womb.
“Just take it. If it’s negative, I’m sending you home for a couple days.”
“And if it’s positive?” I swallow thickly, emotions already gripping my throat tenfold.
“If it’s positive, we’ll sit down and find you a good obstetrician.” Without saying another word, I grab the small plastic
stick and make my way to the bathroom.
Scout talked about doing this together, me peeing on the stick and letting him be there with me. Something about how it will
make it all better. Knowing that I need to know if I’m basically contagious or not, I don’t have the luxury.
Well, I could just go home for the day and be done, but something in my gut is telling me to stay put.
Instead, I settle on giving him a call. It goes straight to voicemail. I try again, where it rings a few times and goes to
voicemail again. Sending him a text, I wait about five minutes. He read it, but hasn’t responded. Opening his location, it shows
he’s at the dive bar. It’s too early, and he didn’t mention anything about working early today.
Shrugging it off, I do my business and stick the cap back on the stick. I set a quick timer on my phone, and pace the
bathroom. It’s a stand alone, so I have room.
What if it’s positive? Negative? How will Scout react? I know he’ll be upset that I did it without him, but I’d rather not
have to wait. There’s so much potential that everything could go to shit…no, I can’t think like that. It’s weird to think I didn’t
see the signs before. I mean, every woman’s boobs hurt after menstruation, right? Or is it just me? I guess they don’t usually
hurt this long. Also, I haven’t been sick since I was in highschool, and I don’t think I’ve puked since before that.
A loud knock startles me, and I realize my timer is going off for the past minute. “It’s just me. Let me know if you need
anything.”
I shakily respond. Just as I’m about to look at the stick, my phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. Furrowing
my brows, I open it to see a photo loading through. Just as I go to close it as spam, it pops through.
It stops me cold in my tracks.
 Scout

“L ook, I’m not interested, okay?” I say, pulling away from the pushy female. Her jean shorts are practically painted on her,
but the only woman I can think of is Birdie. My baby bird.
“Come on, Scotty, I’m only looking for a good time, not a long one. The other girls said you were a good fuck, and
I’m here for it.”
“My name is Scout, not ‘Scotty’, and no means no. If the roles were reversed, you’d go crying to the cops that I tried to
rape you or some shit. I’ve got a girl waiting for me at home, so take a hint, chick. No.” That doesn’t seem to do the trick either.
Instead, it makes her more fiery.
“Come on, you know you want to,” she drops her boobs on the counter of my bar, and I can’t suppress the growl.
Unfortunately, she takes it as a sexual one, not a predatory one.
Before I can blink, she has a hand in my hair and is pulling me in for a kiss. She tastes like cheap vodka. Grabbing her face,
I gently pry her away from me. Even if I was just sexually assaulted, I’m not going to go in handcuffs for slapping this chick.
That’s the way the world works, and I plan to make Birdie take a stick test tonight.
“Got it!” One of the friends from her posse shouts, cheering loudly for her friend.
“Get the fuck out of my bar! All of you,” the fiery owner calls, grabbing a cloth and whipping it at the girl. “You don’t get
to assault my workers for a quick pic. I don’t care if his dick is the size of an elephant trunk, you need to leave. You’re banned
from coming back.”
“But your bar is the only good one in town!” She shrieks, hands on her hips defiantly as her foot stomps petulantly.
“Should have thought about that before attacking one of my bartenders. You and your little posse have three seconds to
leave before I call the cops on you and report the assault.”
“Fuck, fine!” The group of girls take off at lightning speed, obviously not wanting to get charged with something stupid. I
doubt it would even hold up in court, but that’s besides the point.
Knuckles rap on the bartop, and I catch sight of Massimo. He’s made himself more known around the bar, and he’s been
trying to recruit me into his…stuff. I have no desire to get twisted in that, but he provides an outlet that I’ve not been given
before.
A deep rooted anger boils under my skin, one that almost had me lashing out at people I love. With him, I’ve been able to
take my aggression out on men deserving of it. Traitors, spies, the like.
Jerking his head, I stalk down to his side of the bar. “Boss gave the green light for you to take off.” I don’t need to hear
anything else. I close myself out and follow him outside.
“What do we have tonight?” I slide into his shiny car, admiring the leather like always.
“Some idiots who think they can get one over on me.” We both roll our eyes, and he takes off. My mind remains blank as I
do my best to not overthink everything. I’ll have to tell Birdie about the chick who threw herself on me, I don’t want one of
these idiots to tell her without me. That’s how the rumor-mill and shit starts.
Pulling into the warehouse, we both saunter over to the guards who don’t even look at us. Instead, they stare out into the
abyss and wait for someone to try and invade the territory. I don’t understand it, but the less I know, the better.
“Don’t kill them,” Massimo warns as we make our way to the dungeon area. I only grunt in response. I haven’t killed
anyone yet, yet I’ve gotten pretty damn close on a couple occasions. I’d have to join whatever group he runs if I did.
No thanks.
“Well, well, look who it is.” Whirling around, he sits there, acting smug and as if the world can’t touch him even though
he’s tied to the chair with a chain looped around his neck.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” My fists clench tightly, nails creating crescents until I’m sure my calloused flesh is
bleeding. Massimo smirks, a single shoulder lifting and dropping.
 “A certain female who seems to be very special to my wife and her boss disclosed some…interesting information. Viv and
I agreed that it would be best if you have first dibs.”
Jaw dropping from the tight hinge, I simply stare at the man before me. There has to be some type of double standard,
something he wants in return. So, I voice it.
“Nope, no strings attached. This is for the girl,” he assures, his head tilting over to the man who stole the light from my girl
for a few years. He’s the reason she wasn’t able to breathe without flinching for so long.
“I’m here because of a whore?” He booms, laughing like it’s the most hysterical thing in the world. What the stupid guy
doesn’t understand is that I won’t kill him, but I’ll take him right to the brink. “Which whore was it, huh? Oh, I bet it was the
pretty brunette? Or was she blond? Or-” My fist slams into his ugly face, the obvious crack of his bone rattles in my ears. A
deep inhale has my blood calming slightly, the soreness of my knuckles slowly soothing the beast trying to crawl out of me.
“It’s too bad you don’t remember who it is,” Massimo tsks, a few things clattering onto the metal table. It’s the work
supplies I’ve collected over the months of working with him. He sweeps a hand over it all before taking a step back.
Grabbing his hair, I wrench his head backward, letting him stare up into my devilish face. While I can’t look in a fucking
mirror to see what he sees, I can guarantee that he’s staring at the face of the devil.
“You know, I thought you died,” I begin, shoving his head forward. The chair jolts beneath him as it threatens to either
break or topple. “You didn’t show your face around here for so long, yet here you are. Sitting in the cave of your worst
nightmare.”
“I’ve not had a single nightmare about you,” he lamely spits out. Hand tightly wrapping around his throat from behind, the
choking sound immediately indicates he’s struggling to breathe.
“I would say that hurts my feelings, but…” I trail off, holding out a hand. A zippo is placed on my palm. Flipping it open,
the flame blazes to life. Bringing it in front of his face, the guys around us chuckle as they stare at his tortured expression.
I release his throat and come around in front of him without the fire dying. Bringing it to his eyes, he tries to wiggle and
break the rope holding him, the chain clattering on the chair as he fights it.
“This is going to hurt a lot more.” His head tips back to try and avoid it, but he’s as far extended as he can go. Burning the
lashes on his eye, the heat isn’t enough to melt his skin, but enough to singe the hairs to the root and burn the lid. He hisses but
doesn’t scream. I don’t need him to scream just yet. I need him to hurt, slow and tortured.
His other eye holds the same fate, his eyes squeezed as tightly as they’ll get. Eyebrows next, then a blow torch is replacing
the simple lighter.
“Do you remember a girl named Birdie? The one you stole her virginity from?” I growl, firing the torch. He doesn’t
respond, the only reaction he gives is a subtle lift of his non-existent eyebrows. “So, you do!” I clap in mock joy, earning a
glare from the man.
“Fuck you!” He spits again, trying and failing to escape the confines.
“I don’t know if you know this, but you won’t be leaving here alive,” Massimo taunts. Glancing over at him, his body leans
casually against the far wall.
“You’ll pay for this!” Another round of laughs taunts the guy, while I get to work.
Firstly, I relish in his screams as his hair goes up in flames. The sensitive flesh that is usually covered by the dead skin
blazes hotly, the smell of burning flesh makes my beast simultaneously relax and roar. No blood drips since the veins are
basically being cauterized.
Eyes dropping, he starts passing out. One of Massimo’s men injects him with something as his eyes pop open almost
immediately.
This fucker is in for a long night.
 Birdie

P
ositive. It’s fucking positive. Not only that, but now my world is turning upside down.
“It’s probably not what it seems,” Viv implores, staring at the photo with me. I haven’t moved, barely even breathing.
I don’t know what to think, what to say.
One life changing event after the other. I thought it was going to be the turning point for us, the one thing he’s talked about
and literally worked at. Now, the truth seems to crash into me like an avalanche.
“It’s pretty fucking clear,” I sob, my throat aching from puking and sputtering in disbelief.
“Look, Birdie, his hand is on her shoulder, fingers open. He’s trying not to touch her!” Sofia comments, zooming in on it.
Words don’t register, the photo seems to have scarred behind my eyes when I close them. I pull the phone from them, trying
for the twentieth time to call him.
“Hey, you’ve reached Scout. Please leave-” I push the end button, frustration breaking the walls of my sadness. What if I
was on the fucking side of the road dying? What happened to being there for me?
“I’m going to take a walk.” I don’t give them a chance to tell me otherwise, I just take off. My muscles are sore from the
crying and throwing up, yet the frigid air and movement eases some of it. Keys jingle in my pocket as I round the corner to the
car lot, and my frazzled brain decides that a car ride is exactly what I need to clear my head.
Scout decided it would be good for me to take it, saying he had other things going. Apparently, it was going and screwing
another female.
Opening the car, I slide in and white-knuckle grip the steering wheel. Anger and resentment build up my throat, and I
release a scream that says it all. I scream for the fetus inside me, I scream for the girl who thought life was happier for her. I
scream for everything that has done me wrong in my life.
Without another thought, I press down on the gas and floor it from the gravel. Looking in the rearview, the girls run after
me, one holding a phone to her ear and talking rapidly.
I push the accelerator harder, willing the car to go faster. It does exactly as I want it to, swerving around corners and
drifting on the dirt.
It’s idiotic, reckless, but my heart feels empty.
Dead.
A single hand drops to my stomach, almost on instinct as I slow down. I have another being to think about, care for. Even if
the person involved in it decided that we aren’t enough.
I’m not enough.
Pulling over on the side of the two lane dirt road, I contemplate my next move. I don’t even know where to go from here. I
search for my phone and pat myself down, only to realize I don’t have it on me. It must have dropped it during my walk or
something.
“What the fuck are you doing, Birdie?” I mutter, leaning my head against the steering wheel. I’m better than this. Men don’t
dictate how I live my life. If he wants to go be with someone, baby bean and I will make it work. I know it.
My stomach is flat, which it will be for a while, but I think about the few months from now when I’ll start getting a little
round belly that’s growing him or her. I wonder if they’ll have light brown eyes like me or if they’ll have light brown hair. I
imagine what their first words might be, how many months they’ll be when they walk.
I don’t know, but I can say that I’m more than happy to know that this little bird and I will be just fine.
Taking several deep breaths, I decide to go back to the vineyard. I’m not really sure where I am, but I can cruise for a while
and hope for the best. It will hopefully give me more time to collect myself.
Checking the mirrors, the coast is clear as I go to turn the car around. Putting it in reverse, I scoot back as far as possible
before checking again and pulling into the road.
 What I don’t see is the flash of black flying toward me until the last second, coming out of thin air. Screaming in terror, I
fumble to get the car in reverse, but I don’t have time to react. The other vehicle slams into my door at high speeds, the crunch
of metal on metal shrieking into my ears. The airbags don’t deploy, and the seatbelt tears into my throat and waist.
White noise fills my head as my neck whips to the side, pain shooting through my head. Time stops, and I suspend in air for
a moment and jerk when the car slams onto the ground before floating again. My body feels weightless, painless as I suspend.
The car drops to the ground again, and my nose slams into the steering wheel. A moment of pain raptures through my skull, and
it’s as if my life ceases to exist.
The End…
 Just Kidding!

Book Two will be out Summer 2024.

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 About the Author

Lexi Gray is an Alaskan-Based author with several years of freelance editing under her belt. Ms. Gray has also dabbled in narrating, which can be found on Audible. She
had a passion for writing at an early age; however, started out in helping authors develop their writing skills and bringing languid movement and passion to their works. Her
unique voice shines through her works, using emotion-based writing and hitting subjects that may present as taboo. Ms. Gray utilizes critical thinking and good, dirty and
dark humor to get through it all.
Her hope is that when readers pick up her works, or the works of others she’s helped along the way, they’ll be stuck with their nose in it.
Ms. Gray herself enjoys reading dark romance, but also loves to dive into a dirty RomCom or two. From her own past experiences, she hopes to use her books as a
sense of learning for those who read it, even if they end up only holding it with one hand along the way…IYKYK.
You can check out updates along the way on her Instagram:
@AuthorLexiGray or on her website at AuthorLexiGray.com
More by the Author
Satan on Wheels by Lexi Gray is a slow-burn, enemies to loves, motorcycle club thriller that you don't want to miss! Action
packed full of fan-favorite tropes and triggers!
Don't forget, smut starts on page one! It's book one of the Rubber Down Duology. Satan's Naughty List is book two of the
Rubber Down Duology. Another action packed motorcycle club story, featuring your favorite duo from book one! This is an
RH, MM/MMF love story. HEA guaranteed. Again, smut starts in chapter one!
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
place. He had been sitting in his chair on guard near Tom’s door
after the little talk he had with the young inventor about his desire to
have a fash melon once more. Then, as Koku explained it, a little
later, there came rolling along the corridor toward his chair one of the
very same fruits for which he had such a longing.
In a transport of joy at the sight and smell of the dainty, not
stopping to consider how strange it was that the fruit should have
appeared at such an opportune time, Koku stooped to pick it up. But
he never got his hands on it, so he said, for a moment later he “went
to sleep,” as he expressed it.
“You were drugged,” declared Tom. “Whoever rolled that fash in
to attract your attention and keep you from being suspicious,
whoever did that, must have sprayed some chloroform or ether up
your nose. You went down and out.”
“Maybe so, Master,” admitted the giant humbly. “Koku very sorry.”
“Greenbaum brought it,” declared Tom. “He wanted to get Koku
out of the way and then he thought he’d get me. Guess he didn’t
count on Ned and Mr. Damon being so near.”
“He didn’t figure on Eradicate’s shoe, either,” chuckled Mr.
Damon. “Bless my trolley fare, but that was a good shot!”
“But look here,” persisted Ned. “It’s all right enough for you to say
that Greenbaum brought that fash here to tempt Koku. So much is
evident and plain. What isn’t plain is how Greenbaum knew about
the fash and where he got it. That’s what puzzles me.”
“It’s a small problem compared to the others we have to solve,”
said Tom, with a serious look on his face. “What worries me is how
Greenbaum passed the guard lines. It also worries me to know that
the men who seem bent on preventing me from completing this
invention are still on my trail.”
“Those are greater problems,” agreed Ned. “Very likely we are
wrong in thinking these peculiar melons grow only in Koku’s country.
This may have come from South America or Africa in a shipment of
fruit. You know we get pears, or maybe it’s peaches I’m thinking of—
anyhow, it’s something, from Australia. And if they can ship things
that far, it wouldn’t be impossible to bring fash from where we got
Koku. Only what puzzles me is how anybody knew of these melons.”
“We’ll consider that later,” suggested Tom. “But it occurs to me
that the moving picture people have of late been sending men into all
sorts of strange countries for travel news. It is entirely within the
bounds of reason to suppose that some of them have penetrated to
the land where Koku came from and where the fash grows. Some
exploring movie men may have brought a few of the melons back
with him. You know Koku said they keep an astonishingly long time.”
“Yes,” agreed Ned. “But that one won’t keep long,” he added, with
a chuckle, for the giant was already opening his big pocket knife
preparatory to cutting the melon.
“Not in here, Koku, if you please,” said Tom, motioning to the
giant to go outside to cut the fruit.
It had a disagreeable odor when whole, but the aroma was tripled
when the fash was cut. Koku had speedily recovered from the effects
of the drug and was preparing for a feast. If Tom had been a few
minutes later in opening his door, the giant might have been dead
and the young inventor himself would have been in grave danger.
“Well, let Koku enjoy his fash,” Tom said as the big man went out
into the night with his treasure, having first, however, offered to share
it with his master. The offer was politely turned down. “We’ve got to
investigate what happened.”
They could not find out how Greenbaum got in, and Tom began
to fear there was still another spy in his working force. He resolved to
have a strict inquiry next morning and made a note to charge Mr.
Jackson with this.
“But how did the talking-picture work, Tom?” asked Ned when
they were ready to close the laboratory and disperse for the night.
“Fine! Almost perfect! I’m on the verge of success!”
“That’s why those plotters are getting desperate, I guess,”
suggested the manager. “They’re out to do you, Tom. Better clean
this thing up and sell it. Then they’ll let you alone.”
“I’m thinking of that. But I want to make one more demonstration
and have Mary, Helen, and some of their folks see it. There are one
or two little improvements that occur to me that can be made, and
then I’ll be ready for a final showing before I get my last patents.
After that I’ll be ready to market my invention.”
“Going to give a sort of dress rehearsal?” asked Ned, with a
smile.
“That’s it.”
A search next morning revealed little more than had been found
out the night before. Nor was the strict inquiry the superintendent
conducted fruitful of results. No spies were uncovered among Tom’s
factory forces.
But, omitting no precautions, the young inventor took even
greater pains to insure privacy in his personal laboratory. There he
worked hard to perfect his invention, taking hardly any sleep for a
week, so that he was almost exhausted. His father and Ned helped
and so did Mr. Damon. Koku and Eradicate were kept on guard, and
the giant, having satisfied his longing for fash, declared that he
would not move from his chair again to pick up a dozen of the
odorous melons.
And, laboring hard, Tom brought to what he thought would be
perfection his newest invention. Mr. Swift was greatly interested in it,
though he begged his son to proceed cautiously.
“You evidently have powerful enemies, Tom,” said the aged man.
“They must think you will ruin part of their business in moving
pictures and theatrical performances and that is why they are so
anxious to get you out of the way. Be careful!”
“I will,” promised the young man. “But they can’t stop me now.
Success is just across the line.”
He had entirely rebuilt the machine after the fire and blast, and it
was larger and better than ever. Mary and Helen, with their families,
had been taken into Tom’s confidence and he had promised them
that they should see and hear the performance of Ned and Mr.
Damon.
“It’s quite thrilling!” said Mary, with a fond look at Tom.
“I hope you’ll say so after the demonstration,” was his answer. “I
may ask you and Helen to perform, also.”
 “Oh, we’ll be glad to,” said Helen. “I can’t let Ned get away with
all the honors.”
It was the day on which the final demonstration was to take
place. Tom had arranged his apparatus and had invited the two girls
and their families to come to the laboratory for the evening.
In the afternoon, about six hours before the time set, Tom was in
his workroom putting some finishing touches to the machinery and
testing the electrical wires when he heard Eradicate coming along
the corridor. Something in the colored man’s step and the fact that
he was muttering excitedly to himself, roused Tom’s curiosity and
fears.
“What’s the matter, Rad?” he asked, opening the door in
response to the faithful black man’s knock.
“Man jest give me dis,” answered Eradicate, holding out a letter.
“Where did you get it?”
“Out in de yard,” was the answer. “I was walkin’ round like yo’
done tole me watchin’ fo’ strangers, when de man come up an’
handed me dis. He were a stranger—I was goin’ to tell him to make
his se’f skurse when he done hand me dat.”
Eradicate nodded toward the note which Tom held.
“Did he say anything when he gave it to you?” asked Tom.
“He say ‘gib dat to Tom Swift. It may be life or death to him,’ ”
quoted Eradicate.
Tom hastily tore open the envelope. As he read the message a
cry of rage and astonishment came to his lips.
 CHAPTER XVI
A STARTLING DISCOVERY
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned Newton. He had been making
the broadcasting studio ready for the performance he and Mr.
Damon would soon give in there, so Tom could show his assembled
party of guests what the new invention would do. “What’s wrong,
Tom?” he asked again, entering the laboratory just as his chum
finished reading the sinister message that Eradicate had handed
him.
“Wrong is the word,” murmured Tom, again reading the warning.
“What do you think of that?” and he handed the paper to his financial
manager.
Ned scanned the scrawl—it was only that—words hastily
scribbled on a piece of wrapping paper and enclosed in a dirty
envelope.
“Whew!” whistled Ned as he read. And this is what his eyes took
in:
“Tom Swift: If you exhibit your new talking pictures your whole
plant will be blown to atoms. Take warning in time.”
“There’s no name signed to it,” remarked Ned.
“There doesn’t need be,” responded his chum. “It’s easy to guess
that this comes from the same crowd who kidnapped you and me—
the same men who tried to blow me up. There’s no need for a
name.”
“No, I guess you’re right,” Ned agreed. “Still, if we could trace
these fellows——”
“Oh, I’m going to try!” exclaimed Tom. “I’m not going to sit idly
down and let them think they have us scared. Eradicate, show me
just where you met this man and tell me what he looked like.”
 The negro did his best, but he was getting old and his memory
was not what it had been. He gave a rather hazy description of the
bearer of the sinister warning, but he was able to point out the place
where he had come upon the intruder. Intruder was exactly what the
messenger was, for, since beginning work on his latest invention,
Tom had taken precautions to admit none but his own men to the
plant.
“He met me heah,” said Eradicate pointing to a clump of bushes
near the electrically charged fence. That is, it was electrically
charged at night. During the day, when many watchmen were on the
alert, Tom did not have the current turned on.
“But I’m going to have it on after this,” he decided, when a search
of the grounds in the vicinity of the place where Eradicate had
received the note revealed no one. “He must have gotten over the
fence in some way, didn’t he, Rad?”
“I didn’t see him shinny ober de fence, no, Massa Tom.”
“Well, I think he must have come in that way. Where did he go
after he left the note with you?”
“He jes’ disappeared, dat’s whut he done! He jes’ vanished like!”
“He must be a voodoo man,” suggested Ned jokingly.
Eradicate’s eyes grew round and his jaw dropped.
“No,” said Tom glancing warningly at Ned, “what I think happened
was that when Rad was looking at the note and trying to adjust
himself to the life or death twist the fellow gave to it, the scoundrel
jumped back over the fence before Rad saw him.”
“He’d have to be a pretty good jumper to get over this fence,”
Ned commented.
“Yes, but it could be done,” said Tom. “But from now on the
electric current will be on duty twenty-four hours a day. I’ll put a stop
to this nonsense!”
“What are you going to do?” asked Ned.
“Well, I’m going to take no chances, for one thing,” was the reply.
“I don’t know whether this message is genuine or a hoax. But I can’t
afford to take any chances. There are too many men in this plant to
risk having even one of the smaller buildings blown up. If only my
own laboratory were involved I wouldn’t think so much of it. Though
of course a lot of damage could be done to my new invention now
that it’s practically finished. However, we’ll have the most thorough
investigation possible. I’ll shut down work for the rest of the day and
turn the force into an investigating body.”
“I think it’s a wise thing to do,” agreed Ned.
A little later the big factory whistle sounded the signal of alarm.
Men dropped their tools, shut down their machines, and gathered at
the appointed places. It was as if, on a ship, the signal had been
given for boat drill. Tom had organized his men this way to respond
to the alarm in case of emergency.
In a short time several hundred indignant employees of the Swift
Construction Company were listening to Tom tell of the latest
outrage. He did not need to go into details of his secret invention
which, until it was perfected, he would not give to the world. It was
enough to state that enemies were trying to intimidate the head of
the firm in an endeavor to steal some of the valuable secrets.
“There may be a spy and traitor among us,” declared Tom. “I
doubt that. But there is some way for my enemies to gain entrance to
the plant that I can’t discover. Now I want you to go over the place.
Look for a secret means of entering. Look for hidden wires that may
connect with planted mines. In short, go over the plant with a fine
toothed comb and let me know what you find.”
“That’s what we’ll do, Mr. Swift!” came the reassuring chorus.
“And if we find any of the scoundrels we’ll string ’em up!” yelled
one enthusiastic and indignant workman.
“No, don’t do anything rash or unlawful!” warned the young
inventor. “Make any intruder you catch a prisoner and bring him to
me.”
The men scattered to make a thorough search, and then Tom
went into his private laboratory where his father and Ned had
preceded him. He wanted to talk the situation over with them.
“What do you think, Dad?” asked Tom, when he had related to his
parent the latest attempt.
 “Well,” was the careful answer, “to me it looks like a deep-laid plot
against you. They don’t want you to put these talking pictures on the
market.”
“But how is it their business?” asked Ned. “I mean the business
of whoever is doing these tricks.”
“It concerns them vitally,” replied Mr. Swift. “Why, just think what it
would mean if a whole theatrical performance could be thrown on the
screen in private homes!”
“That’s what I’m going to make possible!” declared the young
inventor. “Those who buy my machine will not only hear but, on the
screen attached to the apparatus, they will see the performers!”
“It may mean ruin to many regular theaters and moving picture
houses, Tom,” warned Mr. Swift. “Those people have millions of
dollars invested in their projects. They evidently mean business,”
and he tapped the warning letter Eradicate had received.
“Yes, they mean business; but so do I!” cried Tom in a ringing
voice. “The question is who means the most business. You don’t
want me to quit, do you, Dad?”
“No, Tom, I can’t say I do. Yet I want you to be careful.”
“What’s your idea, Ned? Should I knuckle under to these
scoundrels and tell them I’ll throw overboard the machine I’ve been
working on so hard for the last year? Shall I admit I’m beaten?”
For a moment Ned Newton did not answer. Then something of
Tom’s ringing spirit was communicated and, banging his fist on the
table with such force that he knocked over a rack of test tubes, the
manager cried:
“No, Tom! We’ll fight ’em to a finish!”
“I thought you’d say that,” was Tom’s quiet comment.
“And you can count on me,” said Mr. Swift, “though I’m not much
good when it comes to a fight.”
“Oh, I’ve got men enough to fight for me physically,” said Tom.
“What I need is moral backing, and now that I have it I’m going
ahead. I’ve been trying to fight this thing too much in the dark. From
now on I’ll use not only my own men, but also the regular police
force of Shopton. Ned, get the chief on the wire!”
In a short time a squad of police were on guard around Tom’s big
plant, while, as the day drew to a close and the hour approached for
the test demonstration, the regular workmen searched for anything
that might give color to the threat to blow the place up.
Just when it seemed that nothing would be found, several of the
men, under the leadership of Mr. Jackson, made a startling
discovery.
They found where the big outside fence had been tunneled under
and, working from there, came upon several mines that were planted
near important buildings in a manner that would have done credit to
a wartime mining party. From the mines buried wires led outside the
fence to a little gully. There, beneath a clump of bushes, the ends of
the wires lay. All that remained was to connect them to a detonating
battery. Then the mines could all be set off at once and the Swift
plant surely would be terribly damaged, if not wholly destroyed.
“They’re regular fiends!” gasped Ned, when the extent of the vile
plot had been laid bare.
“Yes, they could easily have blown us up but for that warning,”
Tom admitted. “Yet it may all have been a bluff. They might not have
gone to extremes. But I dared not take a chance.”
“No,” agreed his chum. “Well, what’s the next move?”
Tom Swift did not answer immediately.
 CHAPTER XVII
USELESS PLEADINGS
Tom Swift was profoundly disturbed by the momentous
discoveries that had taken place around the Swift Construction
Company’s plant. He did not believe it possible, with all his
precautions, that so deep and dangerous a plot could have been
brought so near to fruition as it had been.
“Well?” asked Ned remindingly.
“Oh!” and Tom appeared to come out of a disagreeable reverie.
“Well, there are several things that must be done, Ned. In the first
place we must take newer and better precautions to keep these
rascals out.”
“That’s plain enough.”
“Then the next thing to do is to go ahead with this thing and push
it to a conclusion.”
“You mean the talking-picture machine?”
“That’s it. After that we’ll consider what is next to be done. But
you and Mr. Damon had better be getting ready,” and Tom smiled for
the first time since Eradicate had given him the threatening note that
proved to be such a timely warning.
“Ready for what?” Ned wanted to know.
“For the performance you are to give for the benefit of Mary,
Helen, and the other visitors. They’ll be here soon. It’s getting late.”
“Do you mean, in the face of what happened, that you’re going to
put on a program of songs and dances?” asked Ned, in
astonishment.
“Why not?” Tom questioned. “Nothing really happened. There
was no blowing up of the plant.”
 “No, but it came mighty close to it. We don’t know what hour
those fellows set for attaching the detonator to the ends of the wires,
and then it would have been a skyrocket trip for us.”
“Yes, but it didn’t happen,” insisted Tom, with another smile. “ ‘A
miss is as good as a mile,’ you know. We’re safe and sound. We are
well guarded now and I want to see if my machine will do what I
hope it will.”
“Very well,” assented Ned, with a shake of his head. “On with the
dance, let Mr. Damon and myself be unconfined. I’m game if you are,
Tom.”
“Bless my dominoes, so am I!” added the odd man.
“There really is no danger now,” Tom insisted. “I’m not saying but
what the scoundrels may try it again. But, for the time being, we are
safe. It’s just as it is after a hard thunder storm,” he went on. “There’ll
be no danger from the lightning for some time.”
“You may be right there,” agreed Ned. “Well, come on, Mr.
Damon. We’ll do our part to make the entertainment a success.”
Shortly after this Mary Nestor and her parents arrived in answer
to the invitation Tom had sent them, and they were followed soon by
Helen Morton, whom Ned greeted with a warm smile.
“But what’s going on?” Mary wanted to know of Tom. “We were
stopped two or three times on our way through your grounds and
made to show the passes you sent us. What’s the cause? Is it war?”
“Something like that,” admitted Tom. “We’re having a little trouble
with some men who don’t like what I’m doing. But I think the worst is
over.”
Then, not telling what danger he and Ned had been in, Tom Swift
gave his friends a brief description of the new talking-picture
machine and prepared them for what they were going to see.
Mary, Helen and their parents took their seats in the laboratory
with Mr. Swift and Tom, while Ned and Mr. Damon went to the
broadcasting studio, there to don their red and violet robes. Tom had
not yet succeeded in making it possible to render sharp and clear
performers attired in garments of other colors or combination of
colors, though he hoped, by the use of filter screens, to bring this
about later.
Eradicate and another man were instructed to keep strict guard
on all approaches to the broadcasting room while the performance
was going on. Koku, armed with a big club, and another man with a
gun were stationed outside the private laboratory. But Tom did not
have Koku and the other guard stationed until Mary and the others
were in the room, so the visitors did not see these warlike
preparations.
The switches were turned, the wires hummed, the tubes glowed
with their strange lights and the black screen became milky white.
Then, as over the loud speaker, came the words of the song
rendered by Ned and Mr. Damon in the distant room, there also
appeared very plain images of the two performers. The transmission
was the best Tom had ever succeeded in producing.
“Why, Tom, it’s wonderful!” exclaimed Mary.
“Marvelous!” echoed Helen.
“Finest thing I ever saw!” declared Mr. Nestor. “If you’re selling
stock in this, Tom, put me down for a good subscription.”
“Same here!” added Mr. Morton. “It’s going to be epoch-making,
Tom Swift.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of—it’s too epoch-making,” said Mr. Swift,
but he did not explain what he meant nor did his visitors ask. They
were too much interested in listening to and looking at Ned Newton
and Mr. Damon.
Ned’s earlier description of the odd man’s performance was fully
borne out by what happened. At one time Ned had to quit from sheer
exhaustion in laughing, but Mr. Damon went on alone, singing,
dancing, improvising, telling jokes and funny stories until he had his
unseen audience in gales of laughter.
“Well, Tom, how was it?” asked Ned, when the performance was
over and they were all together again.
“Very good! But it must be better yet. I don’t want to limit the
performers to red and violet robes. But I have thought of a simple
method of getting around that. Color filters, such as are used in
printing photography, will do the trick. I’m not worried about that.”
The little laboratory was rather close and stuffy, so the door
leading into the hall was opened for air. Mary looked out. She
screamed, and turned quickly toward Tom.
“What’s the matter?” asked Tom instantly. “Is there—” He thought
Greenbaum might be trying some other trick.
“Why is Koku armed with that big club and the other man with a
gun?” asked Mary suspiciously. “Is there some danger? Oh, Tom
——”
The memory of the kidnapping of the two young men came
vividly into her mind.
“There’s danger—terrible danger!” exclaimed Helen. “I can tell by
the boys’ faces,” she added, looking from Tom and Ned to Mary.
“They are trying to hide it from us; but there’s danger, and I know it.”
As Ned remarked later, “the beans were spilled then and there,”
and though he and Tom tried to put the girls and their parents off,
there was no denying that something unusual was afoot. The upshot
of it was that the whole story of the buried mines came out.
“Tom, you’ve got to give this thing up!” urged Mary, taking him by
the arm. “It’s a wonderful invention, undoubtedly, but it isn’t worth
your life, nor Ned’s. You must give it up! Let those men have it to
destroy if they want to.”
“Never!” cried Tom. “I’m going through with it.”
Then followed earnest but useless pleadings on the part of the
young ladies and their parents. Seeing how firm Tom was, Helen and
Mary turned their attention to Ned, seeking to get him to prevail upon
his chum to cast the invention aside. But Ned was as firm as his
friend.
“No, I’m going ahead with it no matter what comes!” was Tom’s
final decision. “But I’m going to set a trap for these scoundrels and I
think I’ll catch them. The talking-picture machine must be perfected,
in spite of these fellows. But they’ll find two can play at the same
game. I’m going to set a trap!”
 Somewhat reassured by Tom’s confident manner, the girls and
their parents felt better, though they could not shake off the fear that
something would happen. Nor was Tom as easy in his mind as he
seemed.
There were refreshments after the demonstration, which had
been a success in spite of the excitement preceding it, and then Tom
and Ned took the girls home, their parents having gone on ahead.
“Well, Tom,” remarked Ned when the two young men were on
their way back to the laboratory to make sure it was carefully locked
and guarded for the night, “I thought, once, that Mary was going to
prevail on you to give it up.”
“Not in a hundred years! I’m going through with it. Why, I’ve got to
or face ruin of another sort.”
“You mean financially?”
“Yes. You know how much money I’ve got tied up in this machine.
It’s all we could beg or borrow or spare from my other ventures. If I
scrapped it now, all that cash would be lost. As it is, if I go on and put
the machine on the market, I stand a chance to get it back with a
profit.”
“Yes, I suppose so. The banks have begun to ask questions. I
guess it’s sink or swim from now on.”
“But we’re going to swim!” declared Tom Swift, with a confident
smile. “Give me an even break, and I’ll beat those fellows at their
own game!”
“I hope you do, Tom. But what sort of trap are you going to set?”
“Tell you in the morning. I want to sleep over it,” and with that
Tom turned into the house.
 CHAPTER XVIII
AN ANONYMOUS ADVERTISEMENT
“Well, they didn’t blow us up,” remarked Ned Newton to his
chum the following morning after having awakened in the Swift
home, having occupied the room next to his friend during the night.
“No, and I suppose we can be thankful for that,” agreed Tom. “But
they might just as well have had a bomb under my bed for all the rest
I got.”
“Didn’t you sleep well?” Ned wanted to know, though a look at his
friend’s face was enough to tell the story. Tom’s eyes had dark half
circles under them and it was plain that he had not rested enough.
“Hardly any,” was the answer. “This thing is getting on my nerves,
Ned. I’ve got to do something!” and the voice was a bit irritable.
“Seems to me you’ve done a lot, Tom.”
“In what way?”
“Well, you’ve invented one of the most wonderful machines in the
world—one that will make it possible for a man not only to sit at
home in a comfortable chair and listen to the best music that’s
played, but he can, by a turn of a switch, see theatrical plays. And,
not only have you done that, but you’ve called the turn on the
scoundrels who tried to stop you half way.”
“I haven’t quite called the turn, as you call it, Ned. There is still a
lot to do to uncover the acts of those fellows. One of the first things I
want to do is to find out how they got in and did their work so
secretly. They must have had help from inside,” added Tom.
His first step was to set Ned at work on financial matters, to
ascertain just how much longer the Swift Construction Company
could operate without going to the wall. Its credit was excellent,
which was a great deal in its favor. And Tom hoped soon to have his
talking pictures in shape to offer some of the machines for sale, or at
least to sell stock in a company that might market them to the retail
trade. In this way he would be assured soon of a large amount of
ready cash. He knew several firms who would be willing to
underwrite an issue of bonds, once he could demonstrate that his
machine was a success.
Having attended to these money matters, which were always
more or less of a bore to Tom, the young inventor turned his
attention to matters of more interest to him. One was to see that the
delicate mechanism of his invention had not been disturbed during
the night, and the other was to make a more careful examination
with a view to finding out how his plant had been mined by the
conspirators.
Koku and Eradicate had both slept in the private laboratory, and
on Tom’s entrance they reported that nothing unusual had occurred
during the night. It was the fear that, after all, something untoward
might take place that had prompted Ned to spend the night with his
chum.
“So far so good!” mused Tom, after he had made sure his
invention was in working order. “Now for a look around the grounds.”
He soon saw what had been apparent at the casual inspection
the night before, namely, that the plotters had tunneled under the
fence in order to plant their bombs. Doubtless, they had found out to
their sorrow that the wires on top of the barrier carried a disabling
current of electricity.
And it was in that way that the gang had gained entrance to the
grounds. They had worked in secret, by night it was likely, and had
thus been able to plant several dangerous bombs and run wires
attached to them outside the fence and into the little gully mentioned
before. All that was needed was the exploding spark and the Swift
plant would have been a mass of ruins.
The bombs had been carefully taken up and soaked in water.
They were then—and this work was only now finished—dissected in
an effort to learn some clue as to the constructors. But the work had
been cunningly done. Tom suspected that the gang had hired some
band of anarchists to make the bombs for them, probably keeping
the makers in ignorance of what the deadly machines were to be
used for.
Once the bombs were removed, the connecting wires pulled up
and all traces of the work removed, Tom had some of his men
arrange matters so that a recurrence of the danger was impossible.
At intervals along the fence metal rods were driven into the earth and
so arranged, by means of electric wires, that any disturbance of the
earth near them would be registered on dials in the central watch
tower.
“That will keep them out, or at least give warning of their
attempts,” said Tom.
In truth, as the fence was still guarded on top by the powerful
current and now was protected from beneath, there was little
likelihood that any plotters could get in. Double guards were posted
night and day at all entrance gates and not until then did Tom Swift
feel secure.
He then set to work with redoubled energy to put the finishing
touches to his newest patent and felt sure he had solved the one
remaining problem—that of making visible all colors on his screen.
This he accomplished by filters of glass, something after the manner
in which colored moving pictures are taken, but using a process of
his own that he had only recently discovered.
Though Tom was kept busy putting the finishing touches to his
machine, he was not freed from trouble. Every now and then he
would get a report from some of his many shops that the place had
been entered and things turned upside down, evidently in a search
for some of the young inventor’s secrets.
“Why don’t they lay off and let me alone?” exclaimed Tom angrily
one morning after some particularly annoying damage had been
done in his airship shop the night before. “What’s their game,
anyhow?”
“To make you give up, I guess,” answered Ned. “They can’t get at
your talking-picture machine, you’ve got that too well guarded. But to
guard the rest of the plant you’d have to keep a full force here day
and night, and that’s out of the question with our bank balance as
low as it is.”
 “I realize that, Ned. Yet I’ve got to do something desperate. It may
take some money, too.”
“Oh, we aren’t down to our last dollar, when it comes to that,” Ned
replied. “But it would be ruinous to be paying a night force as well as
a day force, particularly when the former would only be used as
guards.”
“I’m not going to do that,” declared Tom. “It’s time, I think, to put
into operation my other scheme—the one I had in mind the night we
discovered the bombs.”
“What plan is that, Tom?”
“It’s an anonymous advertisement in the papers, making certain
offers and proposing certain terms to my enemies. Here, I’ll show
you what I mean.”
Tom thought for a few moments with pencil poised over a pad.
Then he wrote rapidly and handed the sheet of paper to Ned. This is
what his chum read:
RAPID young man, who is being held back in his work by threats
and annoying, sneaking night attacks, will pay any reasonable sum
just to be let alone so that he may proceed with his inventions. He
wants to be swift in completing his work and it can easily be pictured
how this talk about making trouble annoys him. A large sum will be
paid for freedom from future annoyance. Answer in confidence,
QUICK, Box 123 Evening Graphic Office.
“Do you intend to insert this advertisement in the Graphic?”
asked Ned, naming the Shopton evening paper.
“That’s what I do. Don’t you think they will understand it even
without my name being to it?”
“I should think the scoundrels might,” chuckled Ned. “You have as
good as told them by the use of the words rapid, swift and quick, to
say nothing of mentioning your talking-picture machine. Do you think
that is wise?”
“Oh, they know I’m working on it,” said Tom. “It’s no use to
pretend they don’t. The secret is out, but I don’t care. I’ve got the
patent rights sewed up now. But I must be let alone in order to finish
the last details. Take that ad in, Ned.”
 “I will. I hope it brings results.”
“I think it will,” said Tom, with a significant smile. “It’s bait for a
trap, and there will be some surprises when it springs shut!”
 CHAPTER XIX
THE MEETING
Disappointment would have been in store for Tom Swift and his
close associates if they had expected any immediate results from the
insertion of the anonymous advertisement. Ned Newton went to the
designated box in the newspaper office several times following the
printing of the cunningly worded request for an interview with the
unknown scoundrels, but there were no letters addressed to Mr.
Quick.
“I’m afraid it isn’t going to work, Tom,” remarked Ned, after the
fourth day.
“Give ’em time,” was the calm reply of the young inventor. “Rome
wasn’t built in a day and you can’t catch these rascals in the first trap
you set.”
“Then you still intend to catch them?”
“I sure do.”
“Aren’t you disappointed that they haven’t taken the bait?”
“Not yet. In fact, I’m better pleased than if they had put in a reply
at once. It shows that there are big and important men back of this
movement. If they had been petty grafters or fellows who were just
working to get a certain sum out of me—a comparatively small sum
—they would have answered right off. As it is, the delay shows they
are taking their time and considering the thing from all angles. But I
think they’ll bite sooner or later and grant me the interview I desire.”
“Is that what you want—just an interview?”
“Well, that’s part of it,” was Tom’s answer, given with a peculiar
smile. “Once I’m face to face with this gang I’ll know what to do. I’ve
pretty well settled it in my own mind that there are big interests