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I rose from the chair, taking the lit end of my cigarette and pushing it into my palm. The skin sizzled slightly over one of my scars, but I didn’t feel pain. I never felt much of anything.
Until now.
I HELD THE BOTTLE OFJack in my hand, barely making it to my lips, before I stumbled into the nearest wall. Liquid splashed from the bottle onto my shirt and dribbled down my lips.
Fuck.
I slurped up the whiskey and licked the edges of my mouth, coming to a stop when I saw the bedroom door where I knew we kept Henny. Was she awake? Why wasn’t a prospect outside her door like I asked?
Fuck. Did I tell Raiden to send him away? Or did he refuse an order? I couldn’t remember what I said to Raiden before I got lost in this bottle.
I woke after a few hours of sleep, haunted by Chrissy’s face. Her sad brown eyes pleaded with me to find her, but I failed. Over and over. Night after night.
Raiden wasn’t the only one who suffered from nightmares about his sister. I should have found her in time. I promised.
Fuckkkkkkkk.
That failure ripped into me nearly every time I shut my eyes since the night Raiden found her body. She called me. I still had the fucking message.
Raiden knew all this, but he didn’t turn his anger my way.
I deserved it, though. He should be pissed. The fact that he wasn’t made it worse.
Chrissy was only a kid. She was so fucking young when all that shit went down. I thought no one would touch her because of the club. I believed she was safe.
And when I found out that I missed her call because I’d gotten drunk and laid and fucking passed out, I couldn’t handle the guilt. It still ate me up inside.
I couldn’t handle another girl being hurt on my watch. Not after Chrissy appeared again in my dreams. Maybe she was fucking warning me to check on Henny.
Using the key, I rushed inside and shut the door, panting as I stood at the foot of the bed. The gray and white striped comforter had been kicked to the side, partially uncovering Henny’s bare legs. She rested on her back, one arm flung to her side as if reaching for help.
Fuck. Would I ever stop blaming myself for Chrissy’s death and finding vulnerability in every woman I met? Did I need to save every girl who walked across my path?
My chin dropped as I held onto the bottle of Jack, clenching my fingers around it. “I’m sorry, Chrissy.” The whispered words released into the air as fatigue swept over me.
I needed to get the fuck out of here before Henny woke up. My feet almost stumbled as I turned, my boots stomping across the floor until I reached the door. I flung it open, shutting it behind me with a click before I locked it.
My forehead rested against the wood as I sucked air into my lungs, desperate for the past to disappear. But that would never happen. Memories only resulted from reality. And my regrets never faded.
Chapter 6
Ididn’t know why Devil chose me to fetch the girl.
Maybe he thought she wouldn’t give me shit or try to run. Fuck, if I knew. I couldn’t say what she might do. Never met a woman who I couldn’t figure out within five minutes. This one was different.
I didn’t bother knocking as I pushed the key into the lock and turned the handle, swinging open the door. “Get up, doll. You’re coming with me.”
“Doll?” Her face puckered like she ate something sour.
I stared her down, amused that her only focus centered on the name I called her instead of my reason for coming here, to begin with—strange girl.
“Get up,” I repeated, forcing a little more grit into my tone.
She leaned against the headboard of the bed, braiding that thick dark hair with red highlights that almost reached her ass when she stood. “Why use doll?”
Shit. This was more effort than I intended.
“Come,” I gestured, ignoring her question. “Eat. Or stay and fucking starve. I don’t care,” I grumbled.
