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“Ell, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about with this pinkie shit, But I trust ya,” he smirks as he pulls our linked hand to his mouth and places a kiss on my knuckles, he must know how much I like it when he does that.
“Come on, I’ll get ya home.” Standing up, he makes his way to the back room. I’m about to tell him that I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home, but decide that I like the fact he cares enough to ride home with me.
When he turns off the back room light and comes out with his bag on his shoulder, I’m still sitting on the chair with my legs stretched out.
“Promise me something?” I ask him, and he stops to look at me, his head tilting suspiciously.
“If I can give it to you, I will,” he says, making me melt, just like all the times before, because I know that he means it.
“Promise me that you’ll tattoo me.” Nyx strides over to me, caging me into the chair by resting his hands on the armrests either side of me.
“Not a chance,” he leans down and whispers in my ear.
“Why not?” I protest.
“Because there ain’t no way I’m spoiling an inch of this skin. God made you too perfect to be tampered with, Ella Jackson.”
“I’d just really like a little piece of you that I could keep with me when we’re not together.” I realize how ridiculous that sounds. I really need to stop saying my thoughts out loud.
“Ain’t gonna happen darlin’.” Taking my hand and pulling me up off the chair, Nyx leads me to the door, then he checks the coast is clear before we step outside.
He locks up the shop, pulling down the huge roller front effortlessly before walking me over to my car.
“I’ll follow behind you,” he says as he opens my door for me, then once I’m inside he closes it and leans his arms over the roof.
“You don’t have to do that.” I look up at the handsome face that’s staring back at me from between his strong arms. Nyx takes another glance around the street before he dips his head inside my car window and steals a kiss from me.
“I want to,” he whispers, showing me those dimples again before he taps his palm hard on my roof and makes his way over to his bike. I pull out of my parking spot and watch him in my rearview mirror the whole way home, breathing a sigh of relief when I pull up on the drive and my parent’s car still isn’t back.
It seems I’ve managed to pull off my little escape unscathed. I get out of my car and glance over the street to Nyx, who nods back at me before taking off. AndI realize that it doesn't matter who he is, or how bad his secrets are. Nyx Anderson has the potential to break my heart beyond any repair.
There’s a strange feeling in my gut when I leave Ella to go inside, one that has me turning my bike around when I get to the top of her street and heading back. I park out of sight and follow the wall behind her house towards the tree I always climb.
The light’s on in her bedroom and I watch her wiggle out of my hoodie. There’s something I love about her wearing it. She’s just in a tank top and panties now, and she stands in front of her mirror, looking at her reflection. Her fingers tracing over her skin, and when she holds up the hair off her back and twists slightly to look over her shoulder. I know exactly what she’s doing.
She’s trying to decide where she wants me to put her ink.
I meant what I said. It’s ain’t gonna happen. There’s no way I’m gonna mar that flesh. No matter how much the thought of a huge Property of Nyx stamp where everyone will see it appeals to me.
I lose track of how long I watch her, but when she turns out her light I decide to leave. I need to get back to the club and somehow maintain living in both the worlds I want, until I’m forced out of one of them… or worse, both.
My girl was right about one thing from the start, I am reckless. Fucking her like that tonight in the studio proved it. It would have been safer starting a fire at a gas station.
I’m about to climb down from the tree and head off, when I notice the light to the judge’s office come on, and I decide to stay and watch. He marches into view, dragging his wife behind him andI can’t see all too clearly from back here, but his body language suggests that he’s mad. I begin moving before my brain can keep up with my body. Jumping off the wall into the garden and keeping tight to the fence all the way around. I avoid the lit-up pool and manage to tuck myself under his window.
“We were being judged all evening thanks to your slut of a daughter. And don’t you pretend you don’t know that he’s one of them, it’s obvious.”
“No Vincent. He can’t be, Jimmer made me a promise, he would never.” I hear the loud thwack that silences her, and I don’t have to see his palm connect with her cheek to know that Vincent Jackson just struck his wife.
“You don’t mention that bastard's name in my home. Slut. I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted him to be one of them. Is that what you want for your girl, for her to belong to them? Like you should have… Are you sad you weren’t wanted, Joanne? That you weren’t good enough even by their lawless standards.”
“Vincent, please,” Ella’s mom begs.
“You were nothing, and I gave you everything. A home, a reputation, even a pretty pair of tits.”
“We had an arrangement. He wouldn’t go back on his word,” she sobs, and the judge laughs at her.
“He’s a fucking outlaw, you stupid bitch. You can’t trust his kind of people, that’s how you got into your situation in the first place.” There's silence, and I can't risk looking in case I get seen.
