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“It’s complicated,” I started, not sure what to even say. There was no way Merrick would give me a job, not with everything he already knew. If it had been a rival gang, at least I could tell them I wanted to get away, and that would be that. But Merrick would need to know why …
“It’s always complicated, Giana,” he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. “I was an idiot to think you’d start explaining now.”
“Think whatever you want, Merrick, you always did,” I jeered in a weak attempt to protect my heart. Right now it was crumbling piece by piece with every glare, every harsh word he flung at me like a whip.
I knew this would happen if I ever saw him again, but still a small piece of me had held on to some ludicrous shred of hope. My chest felt lighter than it had in years when our eyes first locked, my foolish heart believing there was a chance he’d forgive me, that he wouldn’t let what had happened between us cloud his judgment. But even then, I couldn’t tell him, because I knew what he would do. If I told him why I left, let alone told him why I needed a job, he would kill Tommaso. And despite how much I wished that was the answer, Tommaso was just a small cog in the machine and his father wouldn’t stop at retribution until all of us were six feet under.
“What the hell does that mean?” he shot back, giving me a small shake to jolt me from my thoughts.
“It means, I never would’ve come here if I knew you were here, Merrick,” I challenged, needing him to get mad, to hate me, to let me go—just like I needed him to back then. The only difference is now he already did hate me, but his hands were still banded around my arms, not too tightly, but I couldn’t get away even if I wanted to.
“Good, because you aren’t welcome here. And not just by me—if any of these guys get wind of who you are it won’t be pretty,” he hissed. I swallowed thickly, wishing I could tell him the truth. The fact that my name was synonymous with Tommaso’s, with the Barones’, caused bile to rise in my throat.
“So let me go,” I demanded, fighting past the sorrow that began to creep in my tone. I didn’t want him to, but that didn’t matter. I wished he’d draw me into his chest like he used to, his arms both cradling me against him and caging me in, protecting me from anything bad in the world. But that was impossible now, too much had happened between us, too many secrets and lies.
His eyes widened a fraction and he glanced down at his hands as though he’d forgotten he was still touching me. Pausing, he drew in a shuddered breath, like the thought of letting go pained him as much as it did me. I couldn’t let myself think like that though. It was better if we both forgot about each other, even though I had a million questions for him poised on the tip of my tongue. Like how he got mixed up with the Demon Riders in the first place? He’d always wanted to work with cars. I never pictured him running a bar for a dangerous motorcycle club. My chest tightened with regret at the dreams we both lost.
But there was a reason for that, just like there was a reason I had to leave … immediately. If he didn’t let go of me right now, pinning me with the same vicious glare as he had before, I might not have the willpower I needed to go back to the cavernous mansion that held as much warmth as the Antarctic.
I gently pulled from his grip, jolting him from whatever was going through his mind. The sorrowful dip of his lips curled into a scowl as though he just remembered everything that happened between us.
“I’d warn you again to stay away, but that’s what you’re good at, isn’t it, leaving?” he snipes, and despite all the armor I’d built up over the years, I flinched at that. His barbed retort stung so much more than I thought it could, draining all my energy. I just wanted to go back to that empty house and crawl into bed, pretending to be asleep when Tommaso got home and begin planning for tomorrow. Although tonight hadn’t worked out, it didn’t quell the fire burning inside me. I needed to get out of here now more than ever because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle another run-in with Merrick or worse, Kellan. I could take Merrick’s jabs, or at least I could take most of them, but my sweet friend, I’m not sure I could keep the truth from him, not with how he could read me like an opened book.Was he here too? Did he somehow get mixed up with them right along with Merrick?
I didn’t dare look any farther down the bar, out of fear of seeing his familiar face too. Instead, I strode to the door, not letting Merrick get in another sneer or insult. I’d had enough of being his punching bag for tonight.
“Gi,” Merrick called out, the vitriol having left his tone. He sounded like the man I used to know for the first time tonight, the one that used to only show his caring, vulnerable side to me. My steps faltered, now only two feet from the door. I stared at it, indecision swirling around in my mind. I wanted to turn around more than anything right now, I wanted to tell him the truth and have him wrap me in a comforting embrace like he used to and battle my demons for me like he’d always promised. But I have to remind myself for what seemed like the thousandth time what a bad idea that would be. I left for them, went with Tommaso for them. I couldn’t bring my problems to his doorstep now, not after everything.
My shoulders shook with a silent sob, but I swallowed it, refusing to let anything show, and closed the distance to the black steel door. I stepped out into the cool night air just as a crash of glassware erupted behind me. The click of the door closing was like a lock snapping closed, shuttering that chapter of my life for good. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? I wanted him to hate me, and it looked like I just got my wish. I let that thought push me forward, giving me the strength to walk to my obnoxious red Porsche, which surprisingly was still there. I nearly tripped stepping onto the gravel parking lot at the force crushing my chest. I rubbed at the ache, needing to make sure there wasn’t a gaping hole where my heart was supposed to be.
Pulling in a ragged breath, I blinked the moisture from my eyes in an attempt to focus, but it was too late. A boney hand gripped my shoulder, freezing me in my tracks.
My heart jolted in fear, my pulse racing as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I reached across to my taser, but before I could flip open the clasp, the person spun me around. I stumbled at the sudden motion but his hand on my shoulder steadied me, keeping me pinned in front of him.
“What is a pretty girl like you doing out here?” the man sneered, a cruel tilt to his lips. I blinked away the lingering moisture clouding my vision and recognized him immediately. It was the horrible singer who was tossed from the bar.
The dim lights from the entrance cast his face mostly in shadow, but judging from what I could see, that was a good thing. He pulled me forward, close enough for his breath to wash over me, the putrid stench curling in my nostrils. Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed it back, knowing puking all over the unhinged man’s shirt probably wasn’t the best idea if I wanted to get out of here unscathed.
“I’m leaving,” I ground out between gritted teeth, stepping back to break his hold, but his hand only tightened on me, his fingers digging into the exposed flesh.
“Not without me you’re not.” The malicious glint in his eyes made me pause, and I assessed my options as he continued. “See, I’ve had a bad night. I didn’t get paid for my gig and my band dropped me as their singer because of it. So I’m not going to let a pretty thing like you just slip away now, am I?” His finger curled around a lock of hair and an unbidden hiss escaped my lips. My hand eased toward my purse, but I had to keep him distracted.
“I’m taken unfortunately, maybe you’ll have better luck with the next girl.” I smiled, hoping he would just accept the brush off, but I knew deep down he wouldn’t. Desperation makes people do stupid things. I knew that firsthand after all. My pulse hammered in my ears, moisture pooling in my hands.
“Not tonight you aren’t,” he chuckled, his other hand reaching up to brush my hair over my shoulder, giving him a clear view of my cleavage. My skin crawled at his leer, and I flipped the clasp open on my bag, my hand slowly reaching inside to grip the taser. But before I could pull it out, a glint of steel caught my eye. But it wasn’t pointing toward me, no, the blade was pressed to the garbage singer’s throat, a masculine arm clad in a black leather jacket wrapping around him from behind.
I glanced up at the man, needing to assess him to see if he might be an even bigger threat than No Balls here. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the thick halo the light cast atop his nearly white bleached hair. His features were masculine yet softer, almost angelic. But I could tell by the delight in his violet eyes he was far from an angel. More like the handsome predator ready to lull his victim into a false sense of security before he snapped their neck. I could make out the black outline of tattoos along his neck. My fingers itched to explore them, to trace along the smooth skin of his jaw, feeling his plump lips pressed against mine.
“I guess your horrible singing killed a few too many brain cells,” the newcomer drawled with a hint of amusement. The metal ball of his tongue ring reflected the muted light as he spoke, distracting me for a moment before my attention was drawn back to the glinting steel at the singer’s throat. Garbage singer stiffened, letting loose a pained grunt as the edge of the dagger pressed farther into him, opening a thin slice along his neck. Drops of blood beaded on his skin before sliding down the steel. I couldn’t help but be riveted by the sight, my excitement growing with each rivulet that cascaded down. “Did you really think she would be interested in a loser like you who’s too stupid to understand the meaning of the word no?”
“Of course not, Spade, I was just asking her for a ride home,” the garbage singer stammered, his eyes desperately clinging to me, begging me to back him up.
“Of course she wouldn’t be,” the man—Spade—continued, completely ignoring the singer’s bullshit story. “What happens to people who touch others who aren’t theirs?”
He slid the knife closer, and the singer hissed in pain, his body trembling uncontrollably now. Spade’s violet eyes sparked with delight at the sound, a deep rumbling laugh vibrating from his chest. The sound was dark and seductive, promising pain and passion. I swallowed thickly, my heart pounding for a completely different reason this time. The laugh must not have had the same effect on the singer, and I leapt back, letting out a groan of derision as I noticed a wet spot growing in the front of his pants.
“I—I don’t know,” the singer whimpered, biting back a cry as his movement sent the blade slicing even deeper.
“That’s the wrong answer,” Spade declared in a singsong voice. “Hmm, the question now is, should I kill you?” Spade mused, humming to himself as though the decision to take this man’s life was no more important than choosing what to have for dinner.
