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“Nyx, I live in the opposite direction to Denver, I made my way here on my own I can make my way back.” She reaches up on her toes and kisses my cheek.
“It doesn’t look like I’ll be around tomorrow, maybe you can sneak out and see me Sunday?” I slide my fingers just above her hip bone where I know she’s ticklish, and she giggles, nodding back at me in forced agreement.
“Thank you for my tattoo,” she says after I walk her to the back door, her arms hugging my neck while her fingers cross over the back of my head.
“You are welcome. Make sure you text me when you get home.” I kiss her lips, then keep hold of her hand when she tries walking out of the door, I’m not ready to give her up yet.
She laughs, using a lame attempt of a tug to get away from me. Eventually, giving up any resistance and letting me pull her back on to me, her lips crashing onto mine and kissing me with that sweet little desire that never fails to make my cock a lead fuckin’ weight.
“I love you, Nyx,” she whispers with her lips still attached to mine. The arm I’ve got wrapped around her waist squeezes tighter, and I bunch up the light cotton dress she’s wearing in my fist. I pull my head back because I mean what I’m about to say and I want her to fucking know it.
“I love you too,” I tell her back, looking her straight in her hazel eyes and in that moment, I fail to see how we could be wrong together. How anyone could keep us apart.
Ella Jackson owns every part of me.
“I’ll see you Sunday,” she smiles as I place her back onto her feet.
“Sunday,” I promise her, reluctantly letting her go. I watch from the door as she gets in her car. The wide grin not slipping from her face, not for even a second. I wait until she’s driven away before heading back inside and pulling on my prospect cut. Some poor fuckers are about to get taught a lesson for fucking with the club, and something really bad in my gut tells me I’m not far from learning that lesson myself.
I must be fuckin’ crazy. I know what I’m doing is dangerous, but I’m too far gone to stop it.
Soon as the business in Denver is dealt with, I’m gonna man up and tell Prez the truth. Hope that honesty will be enough for him to forgive me, and if it isn’t, well…
I’ll cross that bridge if I have to.
I can’t keep lying to her.
I ride back to the club and pick up the cage. No doubt there will be casualties tonight, and as I drive to Denver all I can focus on are all the what ifs…
What if all this all works out for us? What if I actually get to keep her… and what the fuck will I do if I don’t?
I get home to an empty house again and practically skip up the stairs to my room. Lifting up my dress I take another look at my new tattoo in the mirror. It’s perfect, and I love that it links me to Nyx. A permanent mark that will tie us forever.
I blank out how much trouble I’ll be in if Father ever sees it, and I try not to imagine the ways he might discover it.
Today has been too good a day to let thoughts like that loose in my head.
I hadn’t planned on dropping the L bomb on Nyx and I’dexpected awkwardness after the words tumbled out my mouth, but what I got back were honest words that made my heart flutter.
He meant it when he said it back. I heard it in his tone, I saw it in his eyes and felt it in the way he held me. I should never have ever doubted him. The way Nyx protects me is fierce, how much he cares for me has been evident since the day I caught him hanging outside my house in a tree.
Nyx may be wrong for me, he may have his secrets, but I’ve fallen in love with him, and I’ve fallen too deep to give him up now.
I change into an oversized T-shirt and settle on my bed. I want to text him goodnight, tell him to drive safe, and that I can’t wait until Sunday. But I don’t want to seem needy, especially not when he’s with his friends. I’m just about to turn off my sidelight and try and get some sleep when my cell lights up.
I meant what I said. X
I can’t help smiling to myself as I type out a reply.
Can’t wait until you tell me again Sunday. Drive safe xxx
I cuddle into my covers and close my eyes, and let my heart float with a little bit of hope.
Saturdays in our house are always dull, Father either goes to his precious club or works in his office, while Mom commits herself to whatever the latest fitness fad is. When I come down the stairs, I find Mom with her body distorted in the same way as the woman on the TV, and as predicted, to my relief there’s no sign of Father.
I’m on my way to the kitchen to grab some breakfast when the door to his office opens and a tower of a man steps out in front of me. He looks nothing like the usual type of person who would visit. A long unkempt beard covers up most of his face, and his narrow, spiteful eyes examine me thoroughly when I freeze in front of him. He wears black jeans with rips that clearly aren’t for fashion purposes and a hooded top that look as though it hasn't seen a washing machine in a long while.
Father follows him out and reaches up to place a hand on his shoulder as if they’re familiar with each other. I watch a smirk lift beneath the stranger’s thick bush of facial hair as his focus lowers on to my tits.
