When He Reads To Me

9. Lissie

Chapter 9

Lissie

“I read for him, not to him.”

C ody left—not me, unfortunately.

I ended up walking home that day when I woke in Milo’s bed because Cody refused to pick me up. I knew if I asked Milo, he would take me, but I refuse to ask another man for help.

Cody left twenty dollars on the counter, which usually means I won’t see him for a week. I usually love it when he goes away for his so-called ‘work trips,’ as he likes to call them because I get the house to myself. But the small amount of money he leaves doesn’t last long, and by the third day, the bread I bought the day he left is almost gone.

Right now, my head is pounding. I haven’t been able to leave the couch for the last day, and I was due to read to Milo last night.

I did not show up.

So when I hear a knock at my door, I think it’s someone for Cody, but when the knocking doesn’t stop after a few minutes, the door is kicked in. I’m lying on the couch, the pain way too intense to move to see who it is. I’m sure the death they offer me will be more acceptable than the one my body is currently trying to inflict on me. I close my eyes as I hear footsteps approaching.

“You missed our appointment.”

I open my eyes to find Milo staring down at me, dressed in his leather vest, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his lips pursed. “Do you not know how to answer me?” he asks.

I roll over, my body aching as I do so, and give him my back.

I feel his hand land on the back of my neck, and he mutters something I don’t understand. Then I hear the door shut as he leaves, and I don’t even bother wondering how the door closed if he kicked it in and how much trouble I’ll be in if it is broken.

My eyes are too heavy, and they close automatically.

Darkness.

He’s back.

“Take it.” I look up to see Milo hovering above me, water in one hand and tablets in the other. “ Elizabeth ,” he warns.

Fuck him and his Elizabeth .

Snatching the tablets from his hand, I swallow them without water. He shakes his head and goes to the door when someone knocks. I smell food instantly. My stomach growls, letting the world know I haven’t eaten.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off running motorcycles with your gang?” I ask as he returns to me. I manage to half sit up on the couch, which I haven’t left for days. He pulls the side table in front of me, then swipes everything off before placing a container of Thai food on the wooden surface and it smells amazing.

“Gang?” Milo shakes his head as he grabs one of the kitchen chairs and drags it over.

“Is that what you think we are?” He opens the lid of the food container and then approaches me. Without asking, he places his hands under me and lifts me easily, then sets me back down so I’m in a sitting position. When someone else sits you up, you don’t have to use as many muscles, and I hate that I appreciate him for doing that.

“I could have moved myself…” Oh God, my equilibrium is so off I have to blink my eyes before I continue, “You didn’t have to touch me.”

“I don’t mind touching you,” he replies, and I know there is another meaning behind it.

“Is that not what you are, a gang?” I ask, changing the subject.

“We don’t run around the streets wearing baggy fucking clothes,” he says.

I laugh, and it hurts.

I stop.

His eyes narrow at me.

“You ride around the streets wearing specific clothing, including those leather cuts you wear. So it’s the same thing.” I shrug. “When was the last time you fucked someone up, or worse, killed them?” I reach for the food and take a bite of the spring roll while he watches.

“Yesterday.” He shows me his knuckles, which are red and angry-looking.

“And why did you do that?” He grabs a spring roll, and I stare as his lips form an O before he takes a bite.

Milo has perfect lips.

Asshole.

“He thought getting me in trouble would be a good idea.” My eyes go wide at his confession.

“For what?”

“A deal gone bad” are the only words he offers.

“Is he alive?” I ask, then shake my head. “No, don’t answer that.”

Milo smirks and sits back. “Would you be disappointed if he was dead?”

“It’s not hard to disappoint me. I do that all by myself.” He stays quiet. “Do you have any kids?”

He shrugs. “Not that I’m aware of.”

My mouth hangs open, and he leans over and places a finger under my chin before he lifts it up, closing it.

“I’d suggest you keep that mouth closed unless you want my tongue in it.” I smack his hand away.

“How dare you.” He doesn’t care. He never did, so he goes back to eating.

“Where is your husband, Elizabeth?”

I shrug because I don’t know.

He stands, and I can’t help but notice how his black jeans move so easily with those muscular legs, and the way they fit perfectly on his hips should be illegal. I also note the absence of his leather vest. For some reason, he doesn’t wear it around me. Milo steps up to the back of the couch, and that’s when I see his vest. He puts it on and then comes back around in front of me.

“You tell anyone I looked after you, I’ll kill them,” he says, smirking.

“So you won’t kill me for telling?”

His tongue darts out and touches that scar I love to watch his tongue lick. “No, just whoever knows.” He winks and nods to the medicine. “Take it. If you don’t, well…” He doesn’t finish before he turns to leave, and I yell out after him, “Thank you, Milo.”

“You could thank me with your mouth,” he says, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grinning.

“No, I’m married,” I reply and hear him release a breath before the door shuts.

I managed to eat some more food and then stand on shaky legs to take the leftovers to the fridge so I could eat something later since I have no money to buy anything else.

Slowly, I head back to the couch and proceed to pass out for the rest of the day.

“Fuck, everything is a mess. Have you been lying there all fucking week? And the front door? What have you fucking done? I’m going to have to fix it!” I hear Cody bark before I can comprehend what’s happening.

I sit up and rub my eyes. No, how are you? What are you doing?

He leans down and puts his face right in mine.

“Do you remember a time when we actually liked each other?” I ask because I really want to know what he thinks. I feel like I don’t even remember the last time I liked this man.

“What are you even talking about, Lissie?” He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge, then looks back at me as I stand from the couch. “How did you afford this food?” He motions to the leftover Thai. Milo bought so much that I managed to freeze some to make it last longer.

“Do you even like me, Cody?” I question.

He shuts the fridge and goes to the front door, and I watch as he fixes the lock before he returns to me. Stopping in front of me so we are almost toe-to-toe, he leans in. “I love you.”

The words taste bitter, and they didn’t even leave my mouth.

“I love you, or I wouldn’t support you,” he says. Then he does something so unexpected I’m taken aback. His mouth moves closer, and I stand there, frozen, as it happens in slow motion. His lips land on mine, and his hand goes to the back of my head. His mouth moves against mine, and I stay stock still.

He pulls back when he realizes I’m not responding to his kiss. His blue eyes, which I once thought I loved—or maybe it was when I was high that I loved them—lock with mine.

“Tell me you love me too, Lissie.” I shake my head slightly. “I’m your husband.”

“No,” I say, then I realize the audacity of this man. The way he thinks he can force his lips on me as if I would enjoy his kiss. For a man with a limp dick that can only get up for porn, he sure is cocky. “I don’t want to be here anymore, with you.” I breathe the words out, and then I feel the wind knocked out of me, literally, not just figuratively. His fist slams straight into my stomach, and I fall forward, my head hitting his shoulder.

“You love me, or have you forgotten?” he snarls.

I vowed the minute his hands touched me in violence, I would leave him.

I will not go back on my word.

Not this time.

I hold my stomach and step back, and his eyes track my movements.

“I own you, Lissie. Did you forget?” he growls, his voice dripping with menace. His eyes bore into mine, leaving no doubt about the intensity of his claim. Arrogant asshole!

I turn, clutching my stomach, and head toward the door. As I twist the handle on the door, he grabs me, yanks me back, and slams the door shut.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I lick my lips, still trying to catch my breath.

He turns me with a forceful hand on my shoulder until I’m facing him. “Lissie, answer me.”

“I’m leaving,” I state.

“I’ll send those videos to Savannah’s department. I’ll send them all,” he threatens with a smile on his face.

“Send them,” I say with clenched teeth and try to walk past him. He stops me with a hit to the back of my head, and as twinkling appears before my eyes, it’s not long before everything goes black.