He unchained me, and I let out a sigh of relief. Those things hurt. I tried to sit, but every muscle and limb of mine was sore. Then the searing pain in the flesh of my buttock infuriated me. “I can’t believe you gave me a property tattoo.” I was officially a biker’s slut. How did my life turn that way? From a high school English teacher to a patch whore with a property tattoo?
You were a teacher who slept with her students. A patch whore isn’t so much of a downgrade from a teacher slut.
“I can’t believe you’re still dodgy about all the shit that happened. I need straight answers, Jo, starting with the name of that punk.”
“Why? So you’d kill him? How does that make you any different from him, Laius?”
“I told you never to compare me to another guy.”
“Well, you two are oddly alike, and I sure know how to pick them.”
“Jo! He pulled a motherfucking gun at you!”
“Because he’s jealous and overtly possessive just like you. He saw me with you, so he decided to take me back whatever it took. How was that any different from your kidnapping me when you thought I left with another guy? How was he threatening to kill you any different from you threatening to kill him now?” How was cuffing me to a bed and fucking me to reclaim me any different from what Tirone did to me in my apartment? Yes, Tirone was more extreme with his methods, but the principles were still the same.
How did I fall for the same dark and twisted type twice? How was I turned on by all that toxicity and violence? How did I feel safe amidst all that danger? Because, fuck me, I was glad Laius did what he did and I was with him, under his protection.
“Are you saying that I’m sick, too?” he asked.
What if he was? What if he wasn’t just a criminal, resorting to violence to solve problems because it was the only way he was accustomed to? What if Tirone wasn’t sick at all and was just evil like his father or decided to follow his dad’s lead? I didn’t know anything anymore. I was more than confused and my moral compass wasn’t pointing north anymore because there was one thing I knew for sure.
Despite all that had happened, all the pain and heartache and rage it caused me, I was madly in love with Furore, and deep down, I didn’t exactly hate Tirone.
Laius bent, meeting my gaze, his an equal amount of menace and fury. “I don’t care what you call me. Fuck, I don’t even care if you hate me. You’ll never leave me again or be with another guy until the day you die. You’re mine, Jo, and you’ll fucking stay that way forever.”
I didn’t know if I should run for the hills or bow at his feet and beg him to take me and let me drown in everything he had to give me no matter how dark it was going to get.
He tipped my chin up with his finger. “Give me the name of your shitty ex so I can get it over with.”
“He’s a kid, Laius.”
“Not anymore.”
“I will if you promise me you won’t kill him. Scare him away but don’t kill him.” He probably wouldn’t hurt him anyway. Tirone was one of them, or, at least, the son of one. MC people valued their brotherhood more than anything.
“The name, Jo.”
I’d have to tell him sooner or later since I’d become a part of the Night Skulls. The tattoo on my ass made it so. But why could he not just promise me he wouldn’t end Tirone’s life? I couldn’t be responsible for that. If I could, I’d have killed him myself or told Michele to do it.
Michele. What if my call went through and he heard what happened and figured I was kidnapped? He’d look for me and if he found out Laius did it, shit would hit the fan. Fuck.
A knock on the door stopped my unhinged train of thoughts.
“The fuck! I said no one interrupts me!” Laius shouted.
“It’s important, Prez. Cover your ass 'cause I gotta come in.”
He jabbed a finger at me. “We’re not done.” He gathered my panties and jeans off the hardwood floor and threw them at me. Then he pulled his own jeans up and zipped it.
I covered myself, taking notice of the room. My wig was on a chair in a corner. My contact case on the nightstand. Every piece of furniture in the room was black. Red wallpaper everywhere. Riding gear scattered on the floor, the tiny dresser and poked out of a wardrobe. Tattoo equipment was still on the bed. There was a door on the left which I assumed was the bathroom door.
“Where’s my purse?” I fastened the hook of the wig and combed the hair with my fingers. “The solution for my contacts is in it.”
“No time.” He gave me a pair of pilot sunglasses. “Put these on.”
I did as he opened the door. Fort came in, a shit eating grin on his face. “Howdy, doll. Had a nice nap?”
“What’s so fucking important?” Laius fumed.
