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I start my engine and pull out of the yard, heading to the only place that I know will cool the fucking heat threatening to spill out of me. I ride into town, past the studio and the office where Maddy and Alex plan to set up their business and park up outside the station.
I nod at the receptionist as I pass her. I’ve never bothered to learn her name, but I know she’s screwed a few of my brothers. She gives me a smile that suggests she’d like to add me to her list of conquests, but I give her nothing back, just take a seat on one of the plastic chairs opposite her desk.
She picks up the phone immediately and winks at me while she waits.
“The brooding one’s here to see you.” She keeps her eyes on me as she places the headset down.
“He says to go on through, baby,” she makes her voice low and seductive, and I get up and make my way down the corridor, stopping at Roswell's door and not bothering to knock before I enter it.
“I’m surprised to see you.” Roswell rests back in his chair. The old man’s been on the club’s payroll since long before I joined. I swear he’d trade his badge in for a cut if it were ever offered to him, but he’s far too valuable to us on this side of the law.
I meet with Roswell once a year. No one knows about it, apart from him and me, not even my brother.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks, looking concerned.
Roswell and I have an arrangement, one that I know he intends to keep just as private as I do. Every year on Beth’s birthday, the day she chose to end her life, I come to see him. He gives me the name of some sorry fucker out there living free when he shouldn’t be.
Not even a top-dollar attorney can keep you safe in Manitou Springs.
I take the name of whatever rapist or pedophile Roswell decides deserves it the most, and I make that person regret what they did.
It lets out the demons inside me, it eases my tension, and I hope that Beth is watching me. I need her to see that I’m not weak anymore. Though standing here in front of Roswell now, my body itching to cause pain and thirsting for blood, I’ve never felt fucking weaker.
“You got someone for me?” I ask, not bothering to take the seat he offers. I need blood, and I need suffering that ain’t my own. I need it now.
“You know that shit takes time to process. I got to be sure before I send you out there, and usually, I know when to expect you.” Roswell looks uneasy. He’s getting old, and we all knew when Alex came to town he was looking for her to take over.
That didn't really work out for him.
“I need something.” I sound fucking desperate, like a junkie needing his fix. It’s what killing is to me, has been ever since I put that final boot into my step-dads skull. I’ve craved it again and again. I don’t expect anyone to understand. It’s just the way I was made.
“Give me a few days, I’ll get you something,” he assures me.
I don’t know why Roswell helps me, but his commitment to my cause makes me wonder if, maybe, he understands. Maybe something happened to someone he cared about, and this is his way of healing.
I leave him swiveling in his chair without saying goodbye. Pissed as hell that I haven't got a name or an objective that’s gonna take the edge off me.
I take the ride back to the club slowly and feel guilty for it because I know Lydia will be missing me. The way she depends on me is suffocating, but it feels like the greatest fucking gift anyone's ever given me, and I’m sure gonna miss it when she's gone.
I arrive back just after dusk, and when I step inside the cabin, the huge beam Lydia gives me fucking melts me inside.
“You were gone a long time.” She comes toward me, and I immediately take a step back. It makes her stop and look embarrassed. I hate myself for making her feel like I don’t want her, especially when it couldn't be further away from the truth.
“Shaniya invited us to her party,” she continues, putting on a brave face and pretending like I haven't hurt her. “I made coleslaw.” She moves toward the kitchen counter and picks up a bowl that I don’t recognize. “Well, Maddy had to help me because I didn't know what it was,” she looks so awkward and adorable I don’t know how to fucking take her. “And it tastes really good. You wanna try?” She goes to grab a spoon, but I stop her, placing my heavy hand over hers and regretting it the instant I feel her soft skin under mine.
I got to get this out now, clear the air so we can move on.
“About what happened earlier, when I…”
“When you kissed me?” She sounds innocent and fucking hopeful, and it’s making this so much harder.
“It was wrong of me.” I force the words out and wait for her reaction.
Her hand moves from beneath mine up to her mouth, and she bites the nail of her thumb nervously. Kinda like she wants to say something, but she’s too scared. It's another trait that’s been punished into her, and I wish we could fuck the plan, and I could kill the person who made her this way right the fuck now.
I move away from her to the sink, where I wash the grease and oil off my hands.
“I’ve never liked it before.” The words she speaks have me pausing, but I refuse to turn around. If I do, she'll just break another piece of me.
