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The implication behind got away sent a chill up my spine.
“That was the night,” he went on, “I realized how easy it is for a person to die with the right kick to the head.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, what to do. Hell, what to think.
“It was also the night I was initiated into the Trinity.”
Okay, had I thought I didn’t know what to think before?
The Trinity? One o
f the most notorious gangs in our city? Maybe even the US? Lucas, my asshole next door neighbor, was a member of Trinity?
Holy. Fuck.
My horror must have shown on my face. Lucas let out a ragged sigh and removed his finger from my leg. “Does it help if I say I was there for a reason?”
“What could possibly make you become a member of one of the most brutal, murderous, criminally depraved gangs around?”
I didn’t hide my contempt. Nor did I hide my disgust. I felt sick. Was I in a house paid for by drug money? Illegal prostitution? Blackmail? Violent crime? God, had I just had the most amazing sex of my life with someone who committed those horrific crimes?
“To start with, it was because I was a fucked-up teenager with a shit load of anger and hate directed at a world that had shown me and my mom nothing but cruelty and pain. But then…” He drew in a slow breath and looked back up at me again. “But then my mom met my stepdad, and we moved to Willow Falls and I met you and my view on life changed.”
I swallowed. “Are you…did you…” My heart was going crazy. My tummy was a tornado of sickened confusion and uncertainty. I knew Lucas was dangerous, but my brain couldn’t coincide the arrogant bastard guy from next door with the kind of sadistic murderers the Trinity members were known for being.
“Am I still a member?”
All I could do was nod silently and stiltedly at his calm question.
“That’s another yes-and-no answer, I’m afraid.”
The complete non-answer pushed me over the edge. Red-hot fury flooded through me, a torrent of rage unlike any I’d ever experienced.
“Fuck you, Pratt,” I snarled, shoving at his shoulder with all my strength before scrambling off the bed. Screw his injuries. Screw his mysterious charm and dangerous sexiness. “I’m out of here.”
I stomped away from the bed, snatching up my clothes from the floor as I did so. I didn’t want to be near him anymore. I couldn’t deal with this.
He snagged my wrist before I made it to the bedroom door. Yanked me to a halt.
I spun on my heel, smashing my fist into his jaw.
I can punch hard when I want to, and I wanted to punch so very hard right at that second.
His jaw crunched against my knuckles. Pain sheared through my hand, up my arm, into my shoulder.
I didn’t care. The sight of his head snapping backward under the force of my punch filled me with a bleak, cold joy. “Stay away from me, Pratt. Don’t ever touch or talk to me again.”
His grip on my wrist didn’t slacken. In fact, it grew to a painful vice. Without so much as a grunt, his stare found mine once again. “The last woman who hit me ended up in hospital, Ronnie,” he declared, his voice calm. So calm.
My stomach rolled. My throat seized up.
“Why am I not surprised?” I shot back. I was operating on incensed adrenaline now. It occurred to me, in amongst all my rage and contempt, that all this scintillating conversation was taking place while we were both naked.
Seriously, folks. How fucked up was that?
“I didn’t put her there,” he said, still calm. “A cop did. The cop who is trying to fuck me over.”
For the gazillionth time in the last twenty-four hours, I was at a complete loss for what to say.
