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I took pleasure in having him thrown out of the bar, and he gave me ample opportunities. He picked fights when he got drunk, claiming some guy looked at him funny or tried to hit on his girl. The man was a loose cannon. He had crazy written all over him.
One night when Griller started a fight, the president of the Skulls was there to see it. As he stood and watched Griller break open a beer bottle over some poor schmuck’s head, I recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same weary high school principal look I had when I had to manage stupid bullshit.
A guy like Griller, he came in handy when he could be managed, his violence channeled in specific directions. But that was the thing with guys like Griller. They did not like to be managed. One day, Griller was going to lose it at the wrong time, in the wrong place, or with the wrong guy. The Prez knew that, I could tell by the guarded, displeased way he took it all in, and the subtle, disgusted shake of his head. When that day came, it would be Griller’s last.
But there was no telling what would happen to Sky in the interim. The thought of that psychopath with Sky made me sick. But she couldn’t have been more clear. She wanted me to stay away.
So I hung out with Nikki. But even while I spent time with her, my mind stayed fixed on Sky. And even an easygoing girl like Nikki finally called me on my shit.
“You’re a million miles away, Jax,” Nikki said to me one night. She’d stopped by the bar to say hello. It was a Tuesday, our slowest night of the week, and the place was dead. There was no good reason for me to be so detached and distracted, barely able to focus on our conversation while she told me about her day.
“Sorry.” I seemed to be saying that to her a lot lately.
“This isn’t working, is it?” she asked, not sounding too bent out of shape over the fact. I just looked at her, the truth in my eyes. I knew the problem was me, but I didn’t seem to be able to change it.
“You’re a good guy, Jax.” She finished her drink and pulled on her jacket. “You’ll make some girl happy. But it isn’t me.” She kissed me on my cheek, even our break up staying at a low heat.
“Nikki—” I started, wishing I had something good to say.
“You knew this was coming.” She stood up, toned and sexy with her long legs and skinny jeans. Only I didn’t want to be the one going home with her. “Better to pull the plug now than drag it out.”
She gave me a smile when she left, slightly downcast but nothing a fun night out couldn’t fix. I was pretty sure Nikki had never felt depressed in her life. She woke up on the sunny side of the bed every morning, and rested her head on a pillow with sweet dreams every night.
It was probably something fucked up and dark inside of me that I couldn’t connect with her. I’d always said it, trouble dogged me my whole life. Only now I was realizing maybe there was something in me that sought it out, or attracted trouble to me like a magnet.
With a girl like Nikki, I’d probably sail through life. We could probably go years without having a real, deep conversation. She might never ask me hard questions, probably wouldn’t ever want to really get to know me. Hell, she might not understand me even if she did.
A girl like Sky? I felt like she knew me without even asking. It was as if she looked at me and saw the best and worst of me all at once. Like I could tell her anything, confess to her my worst moments and she wouldn’t even blink. I’d even told her how I still hated myself for Ian’s injuries on that damn boat 13 years ago. Never would I talk to Nikki about something like that. But Sky hadn’t just listened, she’d seemed to understand my guilt and self-loathing. And with the touch of her hand, the caress of her words, she’d lifted some of that burden.
Sky seemed to accept the worst in me, but also see who I wanted to be, too. The way she looked at me, blooming under my attention when I noticed little things, flushing with pleasure over small helpful gestures, she made me feel like a hero. Like I could be the man I’d always wanted to be with her.
Too bad that would never happen.
§
I had my cock in my hand when I finally made the decision. I know, so like a man, the little head doing the thinking for the big head. But sometimes it took a visceral, physical cue to get things through my thick skull.
I was in the shower, heat and steam loosening me up after a long day. I’d pushed myself through a brutal workout, then spent some hectic, long hours at the bar. At three a.m. I finally got home, alone and still revved up from all the fights I’d broken up plus the tense words I’d exchanged with Tommy. That partnership was fraying so bad I wasn’t sure how much thread still held it together.
Naked, hot water pounding down my body, I reached down and took my cock in my fist. Eyes closed, I let myself fantasize, picturing Sky’s breasts pressing against her thin cotton T, her nipples standing out in arousal. I palmed my length, stroking as I remembered the softness of her skin, the way she’d parted her thighs. Her eagerness, pressing my hand to her pussy. How wet she was for me and the sounds she made, urgent, desperate almost, begging me for more.
I came hard as I always did when I thought about Sky. Standing, panting, heartbeat racing, I realized things were not going to change. It had been six months since I’d seen or talked to her and I was not moving on. Sky was as vivid and potent to me now as she had ever been.
But she wasn’t in my life anymore. Most likely, I’d never see her again. It was time to make a change.
The next day, I cashed out of my partnership in the bar. Tommy practically shouted hallelujah and danced his way through signing all the paperwork. He turned me loose, no problem.
Now I could make the fresh start I needed so badly. Because I didn’t seem able to do it in Cavallo. It was time to move on.
11
Sky
Around nine o’clock, I finally headed home. Myra’s grandson had asked me to stay late with her, and as always I said yes. Any extra money was good money, no matter how many hours it took. I was getting close, really close. Next month was April, and that would be the time. I’d finally spread my wings and fly away.
The door was open, but the kitchen lay dark as I walked inside. Mike’s voice cut through the gloom. “You stupid bitch.”
I’d taken to ignoring Mike’s insults. I’d grown numb to them. They were all he ever said to me anymore. But something in his voice this time made me listen.
I flipped on the light. Why was he standing there in the dark? He was holding my phone, looking at me with murderous, bloodshot eyes.
“Why do you have my phone? I thought I’d lost it.” I couldn’t find it that morning. I’d searched everywhere, but then, running late, I’d left for Myra’s without it.
“You left it next to the sink. Where you leave all your dirty little secre
ts.”
Fuck, he was really mad about something. I hated that he had the power over me, but I started to shake. I’d gotten so good at avoiding him, and he stayed out so many nights, he’d barely hurt me in the past couple months. But given the right opportunity, I knew he could be deadly. That certainly described the look in his eyes.
“Can I—?” Instinctively, I reached for my phone, wanting it back. It was my most personal possession, with all my photos and phone numbers.
He moved it away, catching my wrist in a vice-like grip. “You’re not going to be needing your phone any more after tonight.”
Icy fear wrapped its tentacles around my heart. “Mike, what’s wrong?” I hated the way my voice quavered. I tried to stay calm, focused, and not panic.
“You thought I’d never find out?” He wrenched my arm up and behind me, forcing me against the counter. I winced in pain. “Did you think I was stupid? Did you? Huh?”
“Mike, let go of me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw your texts. I know about Jax.”
I froze, my heart stopping for a moment in my chest. How could he have seen anything? I’d deleted everything.
“I used an app. I pulled them all up, every one of them. You were texting with him all summer. It went on for months, you fucking whore.”
“No, Mike, it’s not what you think.”
His fingers closed around my throat, squeezing, so painful. I clawed at him with my free fingers, like a bird pecking at an elephant. He didn’t move an inch, just stared at me with that cold, dead look in his eyes as he tightened his grip. Eyes wide, panic set in as I gasped for air. He’d threatened enough times. Now he was going to actually do it. He was going to kill me.
Desperate, I looked around for something I could use, something to help me get away from him. Over by the stove, a glint of metal caught my eye. A steak knife, left out in my haste to get out of the house that morning. If I could only get myself closer and reach out quick enough, I could grab it.
