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My balls tighten and I slam into her one last time as I release into the condom. “Spencer,” I gasp.
“What the fuck?”
Pulling out of her, I tug the condom off, tying the end into a knot. Yanking my pants up quickly, I walk into the bathroom to toss it in the wastebasket.
“My name is not Spencer,” she snaps at me as she straightens up.
Bending down, I pick up her dress from the floor and shove it into her arms.
“Does it look like I give a shit?” I growl, plopping down on the couch.
Her jaw drops as she snatches the wig off of her head and throws it into my lap. Yanking her dress over her head she scoffs, pulling it down as she heads for the door.
“You’re a real asshole you know?”
“So I’ve been told,” I reply, picking up the remainder of my joint from the ashtray and lighting it back up. I don't know where they get off expecting me to be a nice guy, but this is getting old. I hear the door slam behind me and I drop my head back into the couch cushion.
I've been giving Spencer space. For six months I’ve been desperately hoping she would come to her senses. That she would see him for the garbage that he is and remember everything we are to each other. Everything we were supposed to be. But the longer I give her space, the further she slips from my grasp, and the more she loses herself to him.
I can’t even wrap my head around what she sees in that pathetic little weasel.
Six months ago, she was abducted by my now deceased boss, along with my best friend’s girl, in his final, desperate attempts to regain control of a crumbling empire. When she was taken, I was the one who lost sleep searching for her.
That little bitch of a fiancé drank himself in a stupor for days, telling everyone who would listen that his slut fiancée ran off. I’m the one who tore this city apart trying to find her. I made alliances for her. I killed for her. I’ve killed for her so many goddamn times in this lifetime for her, and I’d do it again.
Finding each other in this city after all these years? It’s means something. Even if she wants to try and deny it, she knows it too. She can lie to herself all she wants, but she can’t lie to me.
She doesn’t want him. Not really. She’s just afraid of things she doesn’t understand. Things that I should have been man enough to explain.
The more I dwell on it, the more appealing the idea of skinning that piece of shit fiancé of hers alive begins to look. Here in this very moment, I make the decision. I make a vow. I’m done letting people fucking come between us.
From now on, anyone who tries, dies.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
My phone’s vibration stirs me from my sleep. Rubbing my hands down my face, I stretch and look around, realizing I must have dozed off on the couch. My phone stops briefly, only to start buzzing again, so I stand up and walk over to the kitchen, retrieving my phone from the counter.
Riot’s name flashes across the screen, and it’s one in the morning, so it better be something important.
Riot is my second in command. My best friend, Declan, left the life after his girl murdered our boss Ryker in an act of self defense. In the aftermath, I was left with very few people that I could trust, and an organization that was holding on by a thread. Loyal to a fault, Riot was the only one I had faith in to step up. He had our backs when Ryker went off the deep end, and he’s helped me weed out all the defectors from the Havok Brotherhood, cleaning up the organization one traitor at a time.
Swiping the screen, I tap the speakerphone button.
“You better have a good fucking reason for waking me up,” I grumble as I turn around to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“Trav, man. We have a serious situation down here at Afterlife. You might want to get down here.”
“You can’t handle it?”
“It’s…” his voice becomes a hush, “it’s about Spencer.”
“What the fuck?” Well if I wasn’t already awake, I sure am now.
No one in Havok Hills knows Spencer by her real name. To everyone here she’s simply Aria Spencer, the upbeat, snarky little bartender from Rico’s. “Start talking.”
“Some fucking guy showed up, flashing money at some of the girls, asking about you. Said he knew you owned the club and that he needed some information. Gigi came and found me when she overheard him saying something about you and your supposed connection to Spencer.”
