Bad Influence

By Scarlett Press

Pay up or put out.

That’s the price.

Shana Green’s father is a drunk in debt. In debt to a very bad man. Mickey B has his eye on repayment, but on his own terms. It’s going to take an awful lot of f*ing to pay back a debt which isn’t even her own.

Donnell exploded into her life and then back out. He ruined their parent’s marriage and left Shana stuck with a deadbeat dad. At first, Shana liked her new stepbrother, then she hated him. He ran with Mickey B’s crowd, and everyone said he was the dangerous kind.

Now that indentured servitude may be her only option, Donnell is back and staking his claim. She couldn’t trust him before, why should she trust him now?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steamy eReads
• Release date: Nov 23, 2019

Book preview

Chapter 1

My life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.

A tatted-up gangbanger pulled his shades down his nose and called, "Bitch, you fine!" after me as I walked past him.

Name’s Shana Green, and I’m nobody’s bitch, least of all yours.

That’s what I would have said to him, if I’d cared enough to want him to know my name. Instead, I ignored him and walked a little faster. I’m a curvy girl, and I know how to work it when I need to. But I didn’t do it for his benefit, because his was the kind of attention I really didn’t want.

Another guy on the street whistled at me. For the hundredth time that day, I wished I could run away and start a new life.

I was supposed to go to college, meet a smart and sexy boy, have a career and a family and maybe a little bit of the good life. It was only fair, since the first twenty years of my life had been hell. My karma was supposed to come back and reward me—even just a little—for getting through and spending most of my life taking care of my dad. Wasn’t it?

Karma’s a lie or a bitch, or a lying bitch. She hasn’t done me any favors, that much I know.

I worked hard to graduate high school, even though the teachers and most of the other students didn’t really care if anybody got through. Every minute I wasn’t in school, I’d worked to pay the bills that my old man was too drunk or distracted to pay.

When he got married a few years ago—to a gold-digger he’d tricked into thinking he had some kind of inheritance coming—I thought maybe that was my chance to get out. Let her take care of her Big Daddy Green, as she called him in the sweetest, fake little voice I’d ever heard. But her son, my new stepbrother Donnell, did everything he could to split them up, ruining my chances to get free of my old man and start a life of my own.

Bastard.

Lacy Rae Bishop! Jacquelyn—aka, The Gold-digger—had stormed into the apartment one day, already shouting the name before she’d even shut the door. She had directed her anger straight at my father. Who the hell is she, Rufus?

He was good at the bewildered innocence look. Wha, baby? Don’t know no Lacy—

Don’t you lie to me, you good-for-nothing, two-timing, sack of—

I’d stood up, my hands in the air. Y’all can wait to have your daily fight until I’m out the door, thanks, I’d said, and opted to go to work early.

But before I got far, I’d heard her say that her son Donnell had been telling her for weeks that the inheritance was a lie—I could have told her that—and now Donnell had heard that he’d been sleeping around with someone named Lacy Rae Bishop.

It was probably true. Dad wasn’t one to care too much about things like faithfulness or responsibility—or being sober. But whether it was true or not, it was clear that Donnell was running to his mom with stories on my dad to break them up. On one hand, I couldn’t blame him. I supposed he was protecting his mother, even though she was no prize, either, and they didn’t seem to have a close relationship.

On the other hand, I hated him for it, because I’d already been making plans to get the hell out. I was days away from leaving. He was no longer my problem once he was married, so I felt no guilt at all in walking away. If Donnell had waited just a little longer, I’d have been gone, and that would have been that. Once I’d gotten free, I wouldn’t have felt obligated to come back.

She left that day, and once again, I was stuck. If I’d already been gone, that would have been different. But I was still there, and leaving would have been abandoning him.

I’d already spent years taking care of my dad and still doing what I was supposed to do at school, at work, everywhere. It wasn’t fair that I was here now. And I blamed Donnell for much of that.

I should be a sophomore in college, not on my way to try to make a deal with the devil at Grunt, a strip club with a name as classy as its owner. Mickey B owned the club and ran drugs, prostitutes, and various crime operations ranging from petty theft to chopping cars. Everybody knew it, even the police. But it seemed as long as they got their cut, they turned a blind eye to Mickey B’s business.

The B stands for Bones, so not only was I nervous about what this creep was gonna ask me, I had to remember not to laugh at his stupid-ass name.

He’s shot folks for less, so I’m told.

Go on in, girl. One of Mickey’s muscle-bound guards motioned toward a hall in the back.

"Name’s Shana, not girl," I said, but I made sure to smile sweetly as I said it. He had a much friendlier face than the gangbangers I’d passed getting there. And girl was miles better than bitch. Besides, I figured I needed to look tough to not get eaten alive by this bunch of sharks. Thanks. 

The dude smiled back, and one eyebrow rose above the top of his sunglasses, like he was surprised by my attitude.

"End of the hall, door on the right, Miss Shana."

I held my head high and strutted past, flipping my straightened, shoulder-length hair with my hand—just because I knew he was watching me. Who the hell wears sunglasses in a dark nightclub? I was gonna hate everything about this day. I knew it.

I knocked on the door then took a deep breath and went through. It opened to a huge room that was almost like a mini version of the main part of the nightclub. A smaller stage complete with two stripper poles was directly opposite the door, and a few couches arranged in a semicircle sat in front of the stage. More seating ringed the room, but it was empty except for a handful of people on the center couches watching a fully-naked white girl dance on one of the poles.

She had huge tits that cost more than a year of college, and I instantly disliked her for that. Trying not to look at her, I approached the couches and walked around the side to make myself known. I’d never seen Mickey B in person, but it wasn’t hard to tell who he was. There were only two men watching the show, with three barely-dressed women rubbing all over them.

Mickey had to be the one wearing all the gold chains, rings, and bracelets. His head was shaved, and he had a gold tooth shining in the front. He sat sprawled, a white girl’s hand down the front of his pants. Another girl with the biggest ‘fro I’d ever seen in person knelt on his other side, her hand inside his partially unbuttoned shirt, rubbing his chest.

The third woman was squirming in the other guy’s lap and rubbing his bald head. He saw me and shoved her off then moved to stand behind where Mickey sat. The woman he’d shoved off his lap looked at me like I’d done something wrong, crossed her arms and legs, and pouted.

Baby, Mickey said to me. Have a seat.

Shana, I said. I wasn’t his fucking baby.

Chapter 2

Oooh, I like this one. He patted the girls that were rubbing on him, and they stood, taking the third girl with them to another couch. She got fire, don’t she, Jay? he said to the man standing behind the couch, glaring at me.

She does.

I hadn’t sat yet, so Mickey patted the couch right next to him. Come sit with Mickey, darlin’. Ain’t gonna bite.

I didn’t want to be too difficult, but I didn’t want to act like his trained dog, either. I sat on the end of his couch, not right next to him as he’d wanted.

That a girl. Show Mickey B you’re not some obedient bitch, right? He laughed, his voice deep and rumbling. I suppose business before pleasure, too. Right? You want to know what Mickey B gonna want from you—get right to the heart of things?

I nodded as he scooted closer. Nerves made me quiet as I realized that now that I was here, anything could happen.

You know your Pappy owe me a lot of money. Mickey’s killed for less money than he owe.

Jesus, I hated people who referred to themselves in the third person all that time. You ain’t that special, homes. Just say I.

I know it, I said, forcing my voice to be strong and my head to stay high. What’s that got to do with me?

Mickey looked at the guy he called Jay and laughed. He put his fingers under my chin, and I had to fight not to jerk my head away. "Well, sweet pickle, it doesn’t have to have anything to do with you, if you don’t mind seeing your daddy six feet under pretty soon."

Mickey chuckled again then slid his fingertips along my jaw until he could put his hand on my neck. The touch was gentle—intimate. It made my skin crawl.

"Or it could have everything to do with you if you’d rather see him live to fight—or in his case, drink—another day. Mickey gently kneaded my neck where it joined my shoulder. You and Mickey B could make a deal, you see. Work things out amongst ourselves like civilized folk. It’d save your daddy’s life... and it’d save me a bullet."

He leaned close enough I could smell his breath—smoke, liquor, and something sour I tried not to think about. And it’d certainly make me more inclined to help you in the future, if ever you should call upon Mickey for a favor.

His hand traveled down my shoulder to my upper arm and then moved so that I knew he was going for my breast. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and leaned backward—away from his touch.

So, you want me to fuck you, and if I do, you’ll forgive my old man’s debt?

Mickey B pounded his fist on his thigh. "Damn! I love this one, Jay! She go right for the balls, this girl here. She got fangs!"

They both laughed while I waited with my eyebrow cocked, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.

But she misunderstood me, didn’t she, Jay. Mickey B don’t forgive debts. Ever. He only postpones their repayment from time to time. His fingers found my chin again. Under special circumstances.

He leaned in like he was going to kiss me, and my stomach lurched. I stood and put my hands on my hips, looking more fierce than I felt. How long would you postpone it? And what exactly do you want from me? I’ll fuck you once, or more than once? How many times? Let’s lay the terms out before I make up my mind.

He put his hand over his heart. Mickey is falling in love, swear to God, Jay.

But then he stood, towering over me by a full head, and his expression reminded me that I wasn’t messing around with a poser. Baby, don’t be like that. Ain’t nothing about this offer that has to be bad for you. You can enjoy yourself while you’re saving your father.

I ain’t your fucking baby, I wanted to scream, but I knew I’d already pushed this man as far as I could and stay safe in there.

He took my arm and pulled me back down onto the couch. Mickey won’t be rushed into these kinds of decisions, now. He has to see how good the merchandise is before he can decide how much he wants delivered.

He growled into a laugh with Jay slapping his shoulder from behind. How about you give Mickey B a sample of what you can provide, and then he’ll decide on the terms.

I hadn’t been expecting that. I figured I might end up making a deal that would trade sex or something else tawdry for my dad’s life, but he clearly meant something now, and he hadn’t dismissed Jay. Jesus.

You want to fuck me here—right now?

No, baby. Mickey got more class than that and can tell you’re a lady. He stroked my cheek, then his fingers twisted in my hair just enough to hurt. His voice was sweet. But you can show Mickey your mouth is good for something other than being a wise-assed bitch, can’t you?

He tugged until I was on my knees between his legs. He spread them obscenely wide then let go of my hair with one last, hard pull. Don’t get me wrong. Your fire is refreshing, but Mickey has his needs, and right now, he needs your mouth on his cock, baby.

Was I really going to do this? Suck off Mickey B in the hope that he only wanted a few more favors from me to keep from killing my father? With a shaking hand, I unzipped his fly. I gave a dirty look to Jay, who watched with far more interest than I was comfortable. Clearly, he meant to stay. I couldn’t tell if his expression was excited or bothered, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

He surprised me when he spoke. Aw, come on, Mickey. She looks like she good for it. Give her some time to think it over first.

Mickey smiled broadly, gold tooth shining, and turned to look at Jay. What? he asked, as if he couldn’t believe the suggestion.

What’s a day or two to think it over? Jay shrugged, but there was something in his face I couldn’t quite make out. He looked a little nervous.

Jay, Jay, Jay. You got street brains, but maybe you should stay out of Mickey’s personal fucking business? Mickey’s smile disappeared as he stared at Jay until Jay mumbled, Okay, Mick. Okay.

Mickey B turned his gaze back to me and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t look like he’d stand any more delays, and I doubted he was kind when he got impatient.

I leaned forward and pulled Mickey’s dick out of his pants. His prick was big, but not huge. I could do this. Let’s forget that the couple of times I’d done this before in my life hadn’t been pleasant for me, because I’d dated assholes who really only wanted one thing. I was tough. I could fake it. I had to if I wanted to save my father’s life.

Come on, girl. Ain’t gonna suck itself. Mickey B thrust his hips up and forward, pushing his cock toward my face. I swallowed and licked my lips, not in anticipation, but in the hopes that it would help this all be over faster. I gripped it around the base and leaned forward, trying to fight the urge to gag or run or