I shake my head, letting out an aggravated sigh. “I fucked up.”
Ace stays quiet for a few moments. Then he says, “That’s the girl from the club a while back, yeah?”
Slowly, I lift my gaze to him. I don’t respond—I don’t need to. He can read the answer on my face.
He nods then claps me on the shoulder. “You take care of your girl; I’ll handle the rest.”
“She’s not my girl,” I snap.
Ace lifts a disbelieving brow then heads towards his bike. “I’ll let you know when it’s taken care of.”
I don’t say thanks. I don’t need to, and he doesn’t expect it.
Dutifully, Ace climbs onto his bike and roars off towards town. He’s the only one I’d trust to handle a mess like this. Typically, I’d manage it all, but I have other issues to deal with right now.
When I push my way back inside, several curious gazes meet mine, but none of them dare say a word—except one obnoxious fuck.
Fire Crotch steps in front of me and rests her hand on my chest. “Where you going, baby? You look stressed. Let me relax you.”
I don’t even look at her; I just grab her shoulders and shove her back towards Tank, who already has his dick in his hand, ready and waiting for her. He catches her easily and smiles while she tosses me a venomous glare.
She really shouldn’t fucking push me. I’ve already killed once tonight—another body or two means nothing to me at this point.
I stomp through the bar to the back of the clubhouse, where Brick is standing guard outside Naomi’s room.
“She’s a fiery one. Been beating the hell out of the door,” Brick says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes and shoo him away before unlocking the door and pushing it open.
Naomi hasn’t realized she has company yet. No, she’s too busy trying to pry up a loose board from the floor. She’s almost got it too, then she loses her grip and it snaps back into place.
“Cheese on a freaking cracker,” she snaps.
“What exactly are you planning to do with that thing?” I ask stiffly.
She jumps and climbs to her feet. “Nothing. I don’t know. I was preparing.”
“For?” I ask sharply.
“I don’t know. It kinda feels like I’m going to be interrogated or beaten. Maybe even stabbed in the back of the neck. Didn’t want any of that to happen without a fighting chance.”
My eyes roam over her scantily clad body, taking in those thin arms I could break with a flick of my wrist and those pretty, pouty eyes that have always been too clear and too innocent. Like they’ve never seen a single horror in all their days. She’s pure, untouched by the hell that is this world. Or she was until tonight.
Frustration, anger, desire, need—it all swarms inside me, each feeling desperate to claim center stage. I’m losing control again, quickly. Just like before, all rational thought is flying outthe window, leaving only instinct in its place, and if I continue to allow it, there will be no saving either of us.
My gaze pauses between her legs. There’s a small red spot smeared on her upper thigh. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to have me frowning.
“Is that his blood?” I ask.
She looks down at her blood-stained hands before her eyes move to where mine rest.
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I reach for her, and she startles back—but not quickly enough. My hand wraps around her arm, and I pull her out into the hallway then along it until I reach one of the main bathrooms.
I slam on the shower, turning the water as hot as it’ll go before kicking the bathroom door shut. When I face her, I find she’s watching me with caution. I fucking hate that look. It’s not one I’m familiar with, not on her at least. Something about it pisses me the fuck off.