The Immoral Ones- a Sinister Set Read online

  The Immoral Ones

  A Sinister Set

  Yolanda Olson

  Contents

  The Immoral Ones

  Wildfire

  Sickness In The Sunrise

  The Thief & The Liar

  Harvest

  Rigor

  D.E.D

  Acrimony

  Midnight In The City Of Lights

  About the Author

  Also by Yolanda Olson

  The Immoral Ones

  A sinister set

  Yolanda Olson

  Copyright © 2019 Yolanda Olson

  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 from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Wildfire

  Wildfire

  Wildfire

  Previously released in the Twist Me Anthology

  Our Story

  Mama always told me that a man would be my downfall, just like Daddy had been hers. I remember days of listening to them arguing and nights filled with nothing but her sobs as he told her how worthless she was. But she always forgave him and the house would be a family home for a month or two before it started all again.

  It was plain as day that they loved each other, and even though they had their ups and downs, I can always remember thinking that I wanted to find a love close to theirs.

  I know it may seem crazy, but the love they shared for each other far outweighed their hatred in those angry moments and that’s what I always found myself looking for.

  The happy, pure love between the raging waters that would come in like a hurricane without warning to try and destroy everything in its path.

  It never did happen though; the hurricane that always loomed over them, because Mama and Daddy lasted as long as they could, weathering the storm like fisherman on the sea, and it really was til death did them part when it was finally over.

  I met Judge about three years ago on one of those days where I was out looking for love. Three years ago today to be exact, and everything has been looking up ever since.

  For the most part, anyway.

  We haven’t been in much trouble really, and the little bit we’ve found ourselves in, we’ve been lucky enough to get out of. Most of our time is spent in this car now and I’m waiting for the day we can have the normal life we promised each other.

  It’s been days since we’ve really stopped. Sometimes it seems like years, but I know that this is how life has to be right now. I’m not upset about it, I chose to saddle up for this ride and now I have to see it to the end.

  Judge tells me that he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side and that makes the long days a little brighter. I know that he wants the best for us, and he wants to help me be the person he tells me he knows that I was meant to be. And honestly, that’s all I want for him too. I don’t need the rich, fancy life he keeps promising me. I don’t need anything other than to know that we’re meant to be together forever.

  Although it would be nice to have a place to sleep that wasn’t the front seats for a change.

  With a sigh, I think of how the last time we slept with a proper roof over our heads was a few days ago and it’s okay. I don’t make much of a fuss about it because he’s doing his best and I can’t fault him for that. Besides, as long as we have each other, I don’t care what lies ahead of us, and I’m damn sure not afraid of what’s chasing us anymore.

  We’re faster, stronger, and smarter. That’s why we’ve gotten this far.

  A three day lead he tells me every time I ask; it’s always a three-day lead. I don’t know if it’s the truth, but it’s comforting enough to me that I believe his words like they’re the Gospel in church on a Sunday.

  I guess he could be compared to an arrogant preacher. As I give him a side-long glance, and a hidden smile, I know I’ve made the right decision no matter how many times I’ve questioned this because he hasn’t lead me down the wrong path yet.

  Our little journey started when we decided we wanted a family. I can’t reproduce because my ovaries have been shot to shit ever since I went through radiation therapy for childhood cancer. It was the first time I actually cried in front of him; when he asked me for the one thing I couldn’t give him. But he held me close, told me that it wasn’t my fault, and that he would find a way for us to be parents.

  Nothing’s ever my fault; not in his eyes. Not the day we ran away together when I left my parents sobbing behind me in the doorway of our little home, and not the day I put a bullet in the center of his little sister’s eyes for biting me. He said that my parents didn’t deserve to have someone like me, and that his sister should have known better. That’s why I was so easily able to forgive him when I saw him bludgeon his old man to death to get us this car. We’ve switched the plates so many times and it’s damn near dead at this point, but we’ll find another soon.

  We’re both a little crazy I guess, but we understand each other and that’s what gets us by. If we need something we take it, either by barter or by force, and as long as I can go to sleep each night with his arm wrapped tightly around me, the blood on our hands doesn’t mean shit to me.

  “Are we almost there?” I ask him as I gently place a hand on his thigh.

  “Almost. Maybe four more hours,” he replies, glancing out of the rear-view mirror.

  He does that a lot these days and it makes me wonder if he really believes that we have a three-day lead. I don’t think so but I’m not going to question him either. He knows more than me because he’s older, so I just stay quiet for the most part and let him lead the way.

  “Gettin’ nervous?” he asks in his southern drawl.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know, really” I reply with a laugh. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening I guess!”

  “You’re gonna make the sweetest mama I’ve ever seen, Jess,” he reassures with a quick, adoring grin in my direction.

  “I hope I don’t let you down,” I reply quietly as I bite my lip.

  He takes my hand in his and raises it to his mouth, gently kissing the top of it. “No way in Hell you could ever let me down. In anyway for any reason. I appreciate you, and everything we’ve done together so far has been more than amazing. I’d never be able to live this kind of life if it weren’t for you.”

  A happy sigh escapes from deep within me as I turn my attention back to the windshield. The road in front of us has been quiet for days, and I don’t remember seeing anyone around but that’s just how life has been lately. We take the road less traveled to stay off the radar and we’ve been okay so far doing things this way.

  I do have one worry, a single doubt that I keep to myself, because I don’t want this journey to end anyway other than it should. I won’t voice it yet and dim his spirits, because they’re so high right now that I could swear I was sitting next to a God of sorts.

  A loving, caring God that wants to only make me happy, so I keep my mouth shut if I want to do the same for him.

  And I will. I’ll do everything I can to keep his hopes high, even if it means swallowing my fears deep down inside and never talking about them until we get to our destination.

  “Want me to put on some music, babe?” he asks, glancing in the rear-view mirror again.

  That’s t
wice in less than half an hour. Something has him spooked.

  “I don’t think that’s really a good idea,” I reply uneasily.

  He nods and clears his throat as he lets go of my hand and grips the steering wheel tightly.

  “But we can, if you want to,“ I amend softly.

  “Nah. You’re right. It’s not a good idea. We’ve made it this far by being careful and fuck knows if there’s a working radio station around these parts anyway,” he remarks, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

  I let out a sigh and glance out the passenger window. Trees; nothing but rows and rows of fucking trees, and not a living thing in sight. The trees aren’t really alive anymore either. None of them are green and beautiful, they all seem to look like they’ve been singed beyond belief and somehow, I feel like they’re reflective of my insides.

  Burned, radiated, and useless.

  But unlike those trees, I have someone who’s trying to nurture me and help me grow again. Unlike those trees, I have someone who wants me to have life and be as strong as I should have been so many years ago, before I had to undergo my therapy.

  “Hey, I’ve got a question for you,” I say, turning slightly in my chair to face him.

  “Shoot, babe.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  It was something I always wondered, but never had the chance to ask. When I met him, he greeted me with his nickname Judge, but he never told me his real name.

  “That is classified information, little lady,” he replies with a smirk, keeping his eyes on the empty, wide road in front of us.

  I roll my eyes. Every damn time I ask him something he doesn’t want to answer, he comes back with that bullshit. Years of playing those damn Call of Duty games fried his brain into thinking he was somehow involved in some fucking war.

  “Oh,” I say in a bored tone. “Okay.”

  “Calm down Jess. I told you I’d give you more info the closer we get. I just don’t know if we’re in the right place for a heart to heart. This seems to be way too quiet around here for my liking,” he responds with a laugh.

  I never did understand how a man that could convince me to leave my family, didn’t give two shits when I shot his kid sister or watched him kill his father, wanted to start a family with me, and fucked me relentlessly to the point of where I couldn’t stand for days, thinks that something as simple as his first name needed to stay a mystery.

  “So, why Judge then?” I persist, as I turn my body back to face the windshield.

  “I used to run with these guys about ten years ago; meanest motherfuckers you’d ever come across. Anyway,” he pauses to reach into the cup holder and retrieve a cigarette, “light me babe?” He asks as he places it between his lips and waits for me to dutifully flick the lighter on. Once he’s lit, he turns on the air conditioner and inhales deeply. “So, as you can probably guess by now, we all had our own nicknames and shit, due to how we performed, is the only way I can think of explaining it. I got the nickname Judge because I’m a bad guy. Out of all of us, I was the one that no one ever wanted to piss off because I have a ‘hang ‘em high’ policy. You fuck with me, you’re going down and never getting back up. Judge, jury, executioner,” he explains with a shrug.

  “What happened to your friends?” I ask quietly.

  “Same shit that’s happened to everyone else. Everyone but us, anyway. We’re smart and we got out when the shit started going bad. I’m gonna keep you safe, babe. I already promised you that much, and I fully intend on keeping my word.”

  I bite my lower lip. I really want to ask him the one thing that I know will anger him. The one fucking thing that this entire trip is about, and will make it all a waste of goddamn time if it doesn’t pan out how we hope.

  I don’t.

  One thing I’ve learned with Judge is that his temper is as swift as his passion, and sometimes he lets it get the better of him. Other times they could run together like white water rapids and if you aren't damn careful, you could drown in him just the same.

  I would gladly let him overtake me; his anger, his love, everything and nothing all at once. I would die in the heat of whatever passion he had to give me, and I know that there would never be a death more glorious than the one I would experience at Judge’s hands.

  However, I know we’ve got some ways to go before I have to think about all of that, so for the meantime, I’m really just here for the ride. I never would have gotten to see so much of the country’s roads if it weren’t for running away with him, and I’m confident that he’s bringing us to something great.

  I just can’t shake the feeling that this could go wrong at any moment. That he’ll decide we’ve gone far enough and that maybe, just maybe, he has the same doubts I do.

  I cough and wave a hand in front of my face as the cloud of cigarette smoke starts to become thick in the car, but don’t suggest opening the windows. That’s not an option anymore. The only time either of us step outside these days is to siphon gas from a dead car on the roadside, and Judge never has me do it. He says he’s the man so he has to take care of me, and no one would care if anything happened to him.

  He’s wrong.

  Someone would care.

  Someone would care so goddamn much that it would break her fucking spirit if he got out of the car and never came back. But again, that’s not something I dare say out loud. Doubts don’t have a place in our lives, at least not the ones that are voiced. We keep a positive attitude as best as we can, and I just want him to get what he wants.

  It’s kind of funny, really. He’s thirty years old, I’m nineteen, but here we are; like an old married couple ready to start our family by any means necessary, with hope for a better future.

  As I watch the thick rows of dead trees start to thin, I know there’s no future for either of us. There’s really no future for anyone, but I also know that he won’t give up hope until he has the one thing he wants more than me.

  And that’s why I would gladly lay down my life when and how he decides. The time is coming soon where I won’t be of any use to him anymore, and I’m okay with that. I just want to see a genuine smile on his face again and if he wishes, I’ll eat the same gun I used to shoot his fucking sister with, as long as he smiles for me with his entire being one last time.

  I don’t know if he truly loves me and I honestly never did. I don’t question him though, I just believe what he says, because Judge once told me that he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean.

  It’s his way of keeping me around. I think he would be worried if he had to do this alone, and he knows I’d run back to check on my parents; running straight into the abysmal devastation we escaped.

  Do I want to die? Yes, I really do, but I’m not suicidal. The one thing I do have to live for is sitting next to me, flicking the ashes off the end of his cigarette onto the floor of the car, and glancing in the rear-view mirror for the third time in forty-five minutes. But I’m also a realist. I know there’s nothing out there for me, and eventually we’ll get caught or end up having to make our way on foot. That would be a fate worse than death; walking back into the unknown where the only certainty would be an end not of our choosing.

  I cough again.

  My eyes are watering, and I steal a glance toward his cigarette to see if he’s almost done with it. He doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t care.

  “I’m bored.”

  “I’m sorry,” he replies.

  I let my breath out loudly and roll my eyes. Well, there’s really only one thing I can do to pass the time.

  “Hey, Judge?”

  “What’s up, babe?” he asks.

  Four times in less than an hour.

  I undo my seatbelt and lean toward him. He chuckles, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he places the cigarette between his teeth so he can lean his seat back slightly. He glances at me and smiles widely as I grin, before I kiss his neck. He nuzzles the side of his face gently on the top of my head, letting out a happy sigh
as I reach down and undo the zipper on his jeans.

  I’ll make quick work of him—I usually do when I’m bored, and who knows if this will be the last time I get to blow him anyway?

  I snake a hand into his boxers and chuckle softly against his neck. He’s already hard; it doesn’t take much to rile him up really. A kiss on the neck; that’s his weak spot and I don’t use that to my advantage very often, but like I’ve said, I’m bored.

  “Tell me you love me,” I demand quietly as I nibble his ear.

  “I love you, Jess. I swear to God, I do,” he replies in a thick voice.

  It’s a lie, I know it is, but that’s never stopped me from believing the words that slip so falsely from his tongue before.

  I lean my head down and pull his thick, hard dick out of his boxers, and I can feel him tensing up. I usually find the anticipation to be more erotic than the act itself. When I give the head of his cock a slow lick and he sucks in his breath, I know he agrees.

  Judge is a brutal lover, but never when I’m in control—or in as much control as he allows. He wants me to enjoy the experiences we have together, but he’s such a fucking caveman that he usually forgets that being so much smaller than him makes his way of making love more painful than it should be.

  He’s pulled my hair so often that I’m surprised I have any left. When he’s behind me, fucking with no regard for my size, he’ll grip a fist-full of my hair and bend me back toward him because he tells me that he likes to see the pain in my eyes. It tells him that I’m his and he’s mine and that no one will ever share what we have.