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Slick
“Well?” he asked as he laid back on the bed with his arms folded under his head.
“That is my contact. His name is Grunt, but before he became Grunt, he was a college student and getting good grades. He had a mom and sister, someone in Florida took a liking to both. Grunt came home one day to find his mom and sister both raped and dead. When the police investigated, they found a lead and buried it. A neighbour had seen a load of bikes outside their house.
“Basically, Grunt tracked the bikers and discovered that Venomous Fangs had raped his mom and sister as a train. The cops were either too shit-scared to do anything or bought off. Grunt disappeared from college, built himself up, and infiltrated them to bring them down. We’re working together.”
“How do you know he can be trusted?” Slick asked.
“Because his sister was twelve and had been assaulted by multiple men. And no, they didn’t give a fuck which hole they banged. Those cunts literally fucked a child to death. And Fury’sasshole nephew was behind it.” The bitterness in Irish’s voice showed.
Bile settled in Slick's gut. What type of evil raped a twelve-year-old girl and set a train on her?
“How many?” Slick bit out.
“Twenty-four men.”
“Fuck me! Those motherfuckin’ assholes,” Slick erupted. He closed his eyes, unable to imagine the fear the poor kid must have gone through.
“They did the same as my family. They did the mother and daughter in the same room, where they could both see each other’s pain. It seems to be a thing with the Florida chapter,” Irish stated.
Irish may have appeared calm, but Slick could sense the rage and heat inside of her.
“What is it with Fangs and this train raping?” Slick spat.
“You tell me. But it is a common thread in the Florida chapter. You got your answers. It’s time to leave,” Irish said, and Slick’s eyebrows rose.
“Wow, that’s it?” he asked, shocked.
“We fucked; we scratched an itch, but let’s not make this something it’s not. Slick, I’m well aware you’re in love with Summer, and good for you. I ain’t no substitute for her. But we both needed to bone each other, and we’ve done so. It’s time to go.” Irish sounded almost dismissive.
Wow, didn’t Slick feel like a bitch?
“I have got feelings for you, Irish,” he admitted.
She shook her head. “It’s called transference. You’re moving your feelings for Summer onto me because you can’t have her. But from what I’ve seen of her, she’s broken hearted. She’ll take you back.”
“Don’t have to tell me. Summer is my ideal woman, but she can not cope in my world. You, however, I am heavily attracted to, and I care deeply for you. You can cope in this life.”
“And wake up every day knowing that you love another woman? Yeah, not my cup of tea, thanks. Face the facts, I’ll never be that woman’s stand-in. Ain’t denying that we’re not attracted to each other, and we had an itch we wanted to scratch. And you certainly satiated me. I haven’t felt so good for ages. But it’s sex, nothing else. You are feeling so guilty over Summer. You’re mistaking your feelings for something else.”
“Fuck me. So glad you’re inside my heart and head and can tell me what I feel.”
Slick shot up and grabbed his jeans. He dragged them up, refusing to look at Irish. She’d hurt him with her assumptions. He did love Summer, but he also cared deeply for her.
Though, if Irish wanted to be a bitch, then so be it. Slick did not need her. Not like he needed Summer.
“If you need to scratch that itch again, let me know. It was worth the effort,” Irish said.
Her words slammed into Slick like bullets, and biting his tongue so he didn’t lash out, he stormed out to his motorbike without a backward glance.
Irish
Damnit, I was such a bitch. As soon as I heard Slick’s bike roar out, I collapsed against the bed. Slick had done more than rock my world last night. He’d managed to stay the night, something I never let happen. And then I had trusted him with Grunt’s story. Slick was breaking my walls down, and I didn’t know how to shore them back up. Since my mother andgrandfather’s deaths, I’d not allowed myself to have feelings for anyone.
Yet Slick touched me on a level I did not realise existed anymore. I’d carved out all softness from myself and lived for vengeance only.
Slick was making me feel things I didn’t want to. It was beyond attraction with him, but if he knew it, he’d push for more. And I didn’t know if I could give him more. The one thing that was true was that I couldn’t give him what Summer could. There’d be no children from me, no cuddling, no dinners on the table or a happy wife waiting for him to come home.
