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When he’s finished on the phone, he motions for me to follow him. We walk back out of the alley and down to his car, where he opens the door and ushers me in.
“I drove.”
“I know, and you’re sure as shit not driving home like this. I got someone coming for your car,” he tells me. I nod my thanks as I climb in and settle into the seat. He walks around and climbs in, starting the car and taking off. I watch out the window as we drive down the street. Not many people are out right now unless they’re bad, like me.
I shake off the urge to jump out of the car and run as I try and calm myself. We pull into the neighborhood and my driveway, parking the car. I see Sage through the front window pacing back and forth, and my fucking chest literally hurts. I reach up and rub the spot as Ranger looks over at me.
“You know what that means?”
“What?”
“That pain in your chest.”
“No.”
“You’re hurting because she’s hurting, Ares. That’s a good sign,” he tells me. I shake my head because I don’t know if that’s what that means. Instead of trying to figure it out, I climb out of the car and stumble my way to the porch. The front door opens, and Sage stands there, watching me.
“You okay?”
“Why do you put up with me, Little Lamb? Why do you even bother with me?” Tears fill her eyes, and I want to lick them away.
“Because I love you, Ares, and I believe deep down inside, you love me too.” I wish I could say the words. I wish I could tell her what she wants to hear, but I can’t because I don’t know what that is.
“You should hate me,” I tell her. She shakes her head and steps back, allowing me to come in. I step inside, and she closes the door, tossing a wave at Ranger as she does.
Then she looks over at me, and I see every fucking reason I want her.
“What are you looking at like that?”
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Little Lamb.”
“Let’s go to bed.”
“We need to talk,” I tell her.
“I know we do, but you need to sleep first. Then we’ll figure this all out,” she says. I nod my head as she reaches for my hand and pulls my drunk ass along behind her to the bedroom. Once we’re inside, she climbs into bed and motions for me to follow her. I strip out of my clothes and climb in, turning to face her. Then I reach up and run my fingers along the scar on her cheek. The one Juno put there to match mine.
“I killed him,” I whisper.
“I know.”
“He was all I knew, Sage.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“You mean more to me than he ever did,” I whisper as sleep pulls me under.
33
The fucking dreams don’t stop, not that I’d want them to. I just hate it when she’s a part of them now. I don’t like seeing her there.
She’s on her hands and knees as I stand behind her with the whip in my hand. Blood slides down the leather strip and trickles down her back. I raise it and bring it down once more, searing her flesh. She cries out for me to stop, but I don’t. I whip her over and over.
I jerk myself awake, sweat dripping off me. I glance over and notice Sage isn’t in bed. Then I realize the sun is out. How long did I sleep? I run my hand over my face and climb out of bed, pulling my jeans on as I go. I walk out of the room and toward the living room when I hear her talking. I stop and listen, being the nosey bastard that I am. She’s talking about me. About my dreams. Anger courses through my veins as I storm into the living room to find her and Karen talking.
“You’re telling her my business?” I roar as soon as I step into the room.
“We’re just talking.”
