Page 83 of Ink

Ink ignores me as he unfolds it.

I’m frozen in place as he reads it, watching his body grow more and more tense with each word he reads. Pulling my bottom lip into my mouth so I have something to bite to release some pent-up tension, I wait for him to finish.

“This motherfucker!” Ink roars as he crumples up the note, making me jerk back from his outburst.

Maybe it’s worse than I thought it was going to be.

“What does it say?” I finally work up the nerve to ask.

“Where did you find this?” Ink asks, sounding no less enraged as he ignores me.

“On the front desk,” I answer slowly, not sure why that part matters. I’m more concerned about if I’m going to see him again.

“At the shop?” The vein in his neck is bulging out more and more with each question he asks.

“Yes…”

“Your ex has a fuckin’ death wish. This shit ends now,” Ink growls as he points a finger at me.

I should be mad that he’s making this about him right now and not about me. We should have read it together, but instead, he took over the situation and led the way he felt necessary. There’s two ways I can handle this: one being losing it on him which would probably result in the end of whatever this is, or two, being the only reasonable one and trying to get him to calm down before he’s serving life in prison.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to center myself the best I can and shove all the emotions I’m feeling aside. As much as he deserves to be chewed out for not listening to a word I asked, I’m not cut out for love in lock up. That’s actual bad girl status and I’m just a bad girl for this man.

With a newfound confidence coming over me, I slowly approach the caged beast who’s begging to be freed. He eyes me as his chest rapidly rises and falls.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, gently placing my hands on either side of his neck. The feeling of his pulse throbbing rapidly against my palm sends a chill down my spine, but I’m not scared. This beast would never harm a hair on my head.

“It’s not okay,” he growls. “None of this is fuckin’ okay. He had the balls to waltz into my territory and leave a note for my woman threatenin’ if she isn’t back in his house by tomorrow you’re goin’ to wish you never left? I know you’re not from my world, but that shit does not fuckin’ fly here, Sutton. It’s a death wish.”

“I don’t think he’s actually going to do anything. He isn’t that stupid.”

Although, now I’m beginning to think he is that stupid. Or his ego is too big. I have a feeling he thinks his law firm will sweep whatever he’s up to under the rug if it comes to light.

“Yeah? Those scars on your back nothin’?” Ink asks. My head rears back as I flinch from the impact of his words. Dropping my hands from his neck, I move to step away from him. “No.” He breathes, but his tone is no less menacing as he grabs my wrists and brings that back up to where they just were on his neck, not letting me move away.

“You’re being mean,” I tell him in a broken whisper. My nose is itching as I feel my eyes fill with tears.

He knows my scars are off limits.

Never in my life did I expect him to throw it back in my face.

“I’m not bein’ mean, bunny. I’m bein’ real. I told you nothin’ would ever touch you again. My word is everythin’. I need you to trust me to deal with this how I see fit.” Ink’s hands move to my waist, pulling me flush against him.

“How are you going to deal with it?”

“I’ll tell you anythin’ you want to know unless I think it puts you or the club at risk. And right now, I don’t want this shit in your head. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agree after a long moment.

I think I just made a deal with the beast, but it isn’t my nightmare he’s about to enter.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

SUTTON

Ink pulls out his phone and shoots a text off to someone before tossing it onto the end table next to the bed. Yanking his shirt over his head, he throws it onto my pile of dirty clothes, his pants following suit.