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“If you don’t want me to use that between your legs, you should stop looking at it,” I joke.
Her eyes go wide, and she takes a step back, falling, her ass hitting the floor. Her wild eyes search mine as she looks up at me. “Lucas?”
Before I can say anything, the doors to the shop burst open, and Keir’s standing there, a gun raised straight at me. I glance down at her as I hear the click of the safety and then the gun firing.
I smile.
She screams.
The bullet hits me in the leg.
“Lucas!” She crawls to me, placing her hand on my leg to cover the wound.
“Move, Chanel.”
She shakes her head at Keir. “Why did you do that?”
Keir looks back, and one of his men, who I didn’t kill, walks over and pulls Chanel off me.
“Lucas,” Keir says my name.
“Don’t kill him,” Chanel pleads.
I grunt as Keir lifts his foot and places it on my leg, pressing down hard. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
I stare up at him and grin. “Probably not as much as yours.”
I should stop being a smartass.
I really should.
But I can’t.
It’s next to impossible for me to stop.
“I remember,” Chanel screams.
Keir and I both give her our full attention.
“I remember you, Lucas. All the bad…” She shakes her head, then looks at Keir. “And you… I remember you too.” But she doesn’t look at him long before her eyes swing back to me. “I want to strangle you, Lucas, for making me fall in love with you again.”
The room falls silent, and I reach out to touch her cheek, but she brushes me away.
“I hate you as well. Please don’t mistake the two. They are waging war in me right now.” She stands, looks to Keir, then back down at me. “I don’t want you to die, know that! But this life…” she waves her hands around, “… I will not be a part of it for one second longer. I vowed that last time, yet here I am… again.”
She leans down, kisses my cheek, and lingers on the corner of my lips. “Sometimes you can love someone who’s so broken they can’t see right from wrong, Lucas.” Then she turns and walks out, leaving me in the room with Keir and his men.
This woman! She just destroyed what was left of my black fucking soul.
“Lucas.” Keir clicks his tongue, hobbles to pull out a chair, and sits. I’m still on the floor, my hand covering the wound in my leg. The bastard got me good. Asshole.
“Yes, boss?”
“Oh, so now I’m boss?” he questions, sitting back, the gun still in his hand but resting on his thigh.
“I expected you sooner, to be honest.”
“I would have come straight away, but it seems my wife had other plans.” He taps the gun on his good leg.
