Free Breaking Free: A thriller, M/F, erotic romance by Danielle Aretino Page A
Authors: Danielle Aretino
rolled down her back, but she usually kept it up in a ponytail to show off her various ear piercings and the tattoo of a heart on the back of her neck.
Dan branded her with it when she turned eighteen. Red remembered him boasting to the inner circle one night not too long ago. A lot of the gang dismissed her, even if she was Dan's main girl, and for the most part, Red just felt sorry for her. Poor thing had a university education—that she'd earned online—and a soft voice. This wasn't the place for her. Dan wasn't the man for her—everyone knew it.
"Lemme get Dan," Tony muttered, downing about half of his drink before standing up. "He hates it when she just shows up."
"Yeah, fancy that," Red said under his breath. "A grown woman going wherever she damn well pleases."
"What?"
He shook his head, eyes still glued to Missy. She was a hard one to look away from. "Nothing."
"Go stall her," Tony ordered, pushing Red out of the chair by the shoulder. "Don't let her ask these idiots where her man is."
He could have stayed seated, and for anyone else he might have, but keeping Missy from finding out Dan had his dick in some whore's mouth—even if she probably guessed that's what he was doing tonight—was important to him. So, he stood slowly, as if this was some great effort, and smoothed his hands over the soft leather of his jacket. Normally he'd hang it over the back of his chair, but he hadn't planned to be at the bar for long tonight.
But if Missy was going to spend another night nursing a beer while Dan got progressively drunk and beat some guy into the hospital with a pool cue, maybe he'd hang around.
"Well, hi, Red," she greeted once he was close enough to hear her, the familiar southern lilt of her voice warming him from the inside out. He grinned, suddenly a little sheepish under her inquisitive gaze, and scratched at the back of his neck.
"How about a drink, Missy Mae?" he asked as she perched atop a barstool, a few of the cretins clearing out to give her some space. Even if the inner circle didn't take the woman seriously, the lower rungs would lick her feet twice-over if she asked. Anything to get on Dan's good side.
"Just a beer," she said, slipping out of her jacket and hanging it over her lap. "Lite, if you can manage."
He placed a hand on her arm, her bare skin creamy and smooth compared to the rough brown hue his hands had acquired over the years. "Anything you want."
"Have you seen Dan anywhere?"
He'd be straight up with those fools in the inner circle, but he didn't want to see the hurt on her face that his honesty would bring. So, he pointed to the beer tap and asked, "Bud okay for you?"
She nodded, quiet for a contemplative moment, but quickly bounced back. Dan wasn't a conversation Red wanted to have with her—not here.
By the time he'd flagged down the bartender and got her drink ordered, Dan came stumbling up through the bar. Missy's expression faltered when she spotted him, her vibrant smile losing a bit of its power, her laugh lines disappearing around her eyes. Red took a step back, respectful of the archaic system that said Missy was Dan's property, and tried to keep the rage out of his stare. He and Missy were just getting into the swing of conversation too—and then he barreled back in.
Red looked away when Dan grabbed the back of Missy's neck and dragged her in for a kiss. His ears twitched at the sounds they made, Dan a groaning fool and Missy squealing against his lips.
"You didn't tell me you were coming in tonight," Dan barked at her, and there was a slight slur clinging to the ends of his words. One quick glance down told Red that the guy's fly was still open. Fucking asshole.
"I wanted to surprise you," was her response, that soft voice music to Red's ears. "You weren't answering your phone—"
"You here to spy on me, woman?" Red's eyes narrowed at the accusatory hypocrisy in Dan's tone, and
Dan branded her with it when she turned eighteen. Red remembered him boasting to the inner circle one night not too long ago. A lot of the gang dismissed her, even if she was Dan's main girl, and for the most part, Red just felt sorry for her. Poor thing had a university education—that she'd earned online—and a soft voice. This wasn't the place for her. Dan wasn't the man for her—everyone knew it.
"Lemme get Dan," Tony muttered, downing about half of his drink before standing up. "He hates it when she just shows up."
"Yeah, fancy that," Red said under his breath. "A grown woman going wherever she damn well pleases."
"What?"
He shook his head, eyes still glued to Missy. She was a hard one to look away from. "Nothing."
"Go stall her," Tony ordered, pushing Red out of the chair by the shoulder. "Don't let her ask these idiots where her man is."
He could have stayed seated, and for anyone else he might have, but keeping Missy from finding out Dan had his dick in some whore's mouth—even if she probably guessed that's what he was doing tonight—was important to him. So, he stood slowly, as if this was some great effort, and smoothed his hands over the soft leather of his jacket. Normally he'd hang it over the back of his chair, but he hadn't planned to be at the bar for long tonight.
But if Missy was going to spend another night nursing a beer while Dan got progressively drunk and beat some guy into the hospital with a pool cue, maybe he'd hang around.
"Well, hi, Red," she greeted once he was close enough to hear her, the familiar southern lilt of her voice warming him from the inside out. He grinned, suddenly a little sheepish under her inquisitive gaze, and scratched at the back of his neck.
"How about a drink, Missy Mae?" he asked as she perched atop a barstool, a few of the cretins clearing out to give her some space. Even if the inner circle didn't take the woman seriously, the lower rungs would lick her feet twice-over if she asked. Anything to get on Dan's good side.
"Just a beer," she said, slipping out of her jacket and hanging it over her lap. "Lite, if you can manage."
He placed a hand on her arm, her bare skin creamy and smooth compared to the rough brown hue his hands had acquired over the years. "Anything you want."
"Have you seen Dan anywhere?"
He'd be straight up with those fools in the inner circle, but he didn't want to see the hurt on her face that his honesty would bring. So, he pointed to the beer tap and asked, "Bud okay for you?"
She nodded, quiet for a contemplative moment, but quickly bounced back. Dan wasn't a conversation Red wanted to have with her—not here.
By the time he'd flagged down the bartender and got her drink ordered, Dan came stumbling up through the bar. Missy's expression faltered when she spotted him, her vibrant smile losing a bit of its power, her laugh lines disappearing around her eyes. Red took a step back, respectful of the archaic system that said Missy was Dan's property, and tried to keep the rage out of his stare. He and Missy were just getting into the swing of conversation too—and then he barreled back in.
Red looked away when Dan grabbed the back of Missy's neck and dragged her in for a kiss. His ears twitched at the sounds they made, Dan a groaning fool and Missy squealing against his lips.
"You didn't tell me you were coming in tonight," Dan barked at her, and there was a slight slur clinging to the ends of his words. One quick glance down told Red that the guy's fly was still open. Fucking asshole.
"I wanted to surprise you," was her response, that soft voice music to Red's ears. "You weren't answering your phone—"
"You here to spy on me, woman?" Red's eyes narrowed at the accusatory hypocrisy in Dan's tone, and
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