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“I haven’t seen you in weeks.” She nudged the tire of the truck with her sneaker. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with you.”
I yanked the grease rag from my back pocket and wiped off my hands. “I’m good.”
Kylie didn’t buy the bullshit I was selling, and I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me lately, but I’d been a cranky son of a bitch. I hadn’t called her recently because the last few times we’d met, I’d recognized the war in her eyes. She wanted to fix me, and she’d held out hope that if she just kept doing what I asked, I’d eventually have some sort of mythical breakthrough. It would disappoint her to know that day would never come.
She glanced around the shop, noting it was empty, and then her voice lowered. “Have you been doling it out yourself, Ace?”
When I didn’t answer, she stepped closer. Her entire face had shifted into one that I recognized. She was a different person now than when she first walked through the door.
“Do you want some pain?” Her voice dipped an octave.
On autopilot, I nodded, even if it wasn’t what I needed. The pain hadn’t been providing the relief it used to. I had a different fix in mind now, and it involved blue eyes and long tan legs. Regardless, I was too numb to turn it down. I couldn’t watch Birdie every second of every day, and for now, maybe this would temper some of my frustration.
Without making a production of it, Kylie drew back her palm and slapped me across the face as hard as she could. Once, twice, three times… but I felt nothing.
“Take off your shirt,” she instructed. “And give me your belt.”
Robotically, I removed my shirt and belt, and handed them to her before I turned around, bracing myself against one of the shop trucks. Over the past two years, she’d never refused my escalating levels of depravity. I’d been burned, cut, whipped, and throttled in every way a man could request. My only limit was that I would never kneel. Not for her. Not for anyone.
The belt snapped across my back, searing the skin and bringing memories back to life. I closed my eyes and accepted the pain unflinchingly.
Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, demon. Kneel into the fiery coals of hell while you accept the lashes of righteousness against your flesh. Feed the soil the poison in your blood and let it soak into the earth. Prove you have a soul to save.
Kylie counted out the lashes, just as I’d instructed her to do in the beginning. I wanted blood. Proof of life. And she gave it to me in rivers down my back. But when she finished, I could see the shame in her eyes.
She was tired of this, and I didn’t blame her. It was sadistic. Something most people could never understand. Lucian tried to explain that to me when I left prison a free man, but it didn’t change the fact that pain was all I’d ever known.
Kylie cleaned up my wounds with a first-aid kit and handed back my shirt. Her mood was somber in contrast to the disposition she’d arrived in. Time was up, and she knew it.
“Will you be at the clubhouse this weekend?” she asked.
I considered the question before my phone buzzed, distracting me. A glance at the screen confirmed it was Gypsy. Over the past year, Birdie’s sister had become a fixture in Lucian’s life and mine by default. I opened the message, my jaw working as I read her text.
Gypsy: I need to talk to you about Birdie.
“Ace?”
I blinked and looked up, irritated with myself. I’d completely forgotten Kylie was still here. I was officially an asshole.
“Sorry,” I muttered, shoving the phone back into my pocket.
“I asked if you were going to be around the clubhouse this weekend,” she reminded me.
“Right.” I shifted. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
She hesitated, waiting for me to say something else. When I didn’t, she took it upon herself. “I could drop by to check your wounds. I’m off this weekend.”
I was on the verge of asking her if that was such a good idea, but instead, I just shrugged. “If you want to.”
She smiled and shook her head at my boorish attitude. “Don’t sound so excited, Ace. You’re liable to give a girl a complex.”
My lips tightened, and I nodded. “You know you don’t have to keep coming around and checking up on me—”
“I know what this is,” she interjected. “And I know what it isn’t. I’m happy with the status quo, Ace. As long as you are too.”
I nodded, but honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore. Kylie was a beautiful woman who had her shit together—a good job, a house, and a well-adjusted mental state. She never asked me for anything, but lately, I’d been wondering if she wanted more. She always showed up to this one-sided clusterfuck, never complaining that I couldn’t give her anything in return. I didn’t have the emotional capacity for a relationship, and this was as close as it could ever get for me. She knew it, but I didn’t know if she’d accepted it. Kylie deserved to spend her time with someone who could give her everything she wanted. Someone who would go meet her folks and watch movies with her and go out to dinner or whatever the fuck it was normal people did together.
