14. Duel POV – He’s Not the Monster in My Story
FOURTEEN
DUEL POV – HE’S NOT THE MONSTER IN MY STORY
Ivy
Upon hearing my alarm, I stretch awake and get changed, wincing as the tenderness between my legs becomes apparent. Standing at the center of the bedroom, I mentally spiral. Is Jett ready? Will he actually take me to work today after what happened yesterday? The whole situation seems like déjà vu. I really need to get home and pick up my car. I can’t keep relying on Jett to drive me every day.
I exhale deeply, but it doesn’t do much to calm my nerves. Closing the bedroom door behind me, I find him waiting, leaning casually against the wall. His hair is damp from the shower. He looks gorgeous. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I glance away. “Do you mind taking me to pick up my car tonight after my shift?” I ask.
He pauses before nodding slowly. “Sure, but I’d still like to drive you to and from work.”
He wants to keep me safe... how can I argue with that?
Like yesterday, I trail behind him through the house and climb into the passenger seat of his truck, blushing furiously. As he backs out of the driveway and takes the dirt road, I realize I can’t avoid the little ball of tension lodged in my throat. I need to know. With a dry mouth, I ask, “Do you regret last night?”
His eyes stay fixed on the road, and the silence that follows churns my stomach. A sliver of fear begins to settle in until he finally says, “No.”
Relief washes over me, and I melt into the seat with a tiny smile tugging at my lips. “I have the next four days off,” I say, eager to fill the charged silence with something more hopeful. “I was just filling in until my boss could get me back on the roster. Maybe we could do something tomorrow. Just us.”
He doesn’t respond right away, so I blurt out more. “We could go into town, maybe grab some lunch.”
“Yeah... okay,” he says after a beat, his focus still on the road.
He’s not giving me much, but I tell myself that spending more time with him will help. I want him to see how good we could be together. Even though my experience with relationships is limited thanks to Dickhead, but I believe in this. I believe in us. There’s potential here, and I think we might be able to make something really great.
* * *
Demon
I stay out in the parking lot in the truck sitting with the air conditioning on, wondering what the fuck is going on. Ivy... just her name in my skull makes me feel weird, but she was the warmth my cold body needed. I wasn’t ready for the impact she and her daughter have had on me.
She’s my new obsession... my infatuation. The cloud of darkness isn’t there when she’s around. She’s just what I thought when I first met her... pure sunshine, the pretty little face that keeps the darkness away. But I’m the storm and I’ll steal her light. I can’t be redeemed. I pull out a piece of gum and shove it into my mouth, liking the strong mint taste. My mind filters with thoughts like sandpaper grating on my sanity.
Ivy looked me dead in my pupils, into my dead soul—and said she likes me... A woman like her likes me? She keeps looking at me as if she can see my heart. A shiver rattles my spine. Her presence has become my favorite place, and there’s nothing I won’t do for her, but she wants to be loved... Am I capable of loving a woman? I shake my head. I don’t think I can give her that. I’ll never be the person she needs and deserves.
That doesn’t mean I can give her up. Sometimes even the devil wants a taste of heaven. My lips almost curve up into a true smile. And her taste... fuuuck. I salivate at the thought of the sweet flavor. My thirst for her is startling. Now I’ve tasted her I crave more. She branded me with that kiss, and I know for sure no one else could ever taste as good as she did.
I sigh, still puzzled at what happened last night. I’ve never cared about sex. Had it when I was a teenager, but the day of the incident my soul was taken. That night I was killed and born again... nothing else mattered as the darkness swallowed my pain.
Sex didn’t matter... or I didn’t care about it until Ivy. But now? My cock aches to sink into her snug heat again, knowing how good that felt. And when she yelled out my name in pleasure... I shift uncomfortably in the seat; my dick’s getting hard. It’s permanently etched into my brain. I’ve never given a fuck about sex, but being in her was fucking perfect.
She’s the only woman I’ve gone bareback with, and I don’t regret it. I could do that every night, but I’m still wary because I’m fucked-up and she and Sammy deserve someone who’s similar to Reaper, who’s protective but has morals, because I don’t fucking have any and my issues could bleed all over them.
Just the thought of Ivy with someone else though... that makes my hands twitchy like I want to use my knife to commit murder. So... I’m in quite a dilemma.
The world doesn’t understand why I’m so messed up, and that’s okay... yet there’s this compelling urge to tell her. But she’s still in danger, and I don’t want to scare her. I never got to experience the full spectrum of life, but being with her makes me feel human, like she’s altered my brain chemistry. In a world that made me feel dead inside, she makes me feel like I’m alive, and now I can finally breathe again.
The ringing echoes throughout the truck. I glance down to see Twitch’s name on my phone. I don’t mind Twitch, but he’s scared shitless of me, not that I blame him... I am dangerous, but I’d never hurt a War Brothers club member. I answer, “Yes, Twitch,” in my manufactured voice that tends to make people uncomfortable. At least over the phone I don’t have to fake a smile.
“Ah, yeah, I just seen a car drive up to our gates. They stayed there for a minute, turned, and drove away. I checked the number plates. It was the same car you saw that night at Ivy’s house, so they know she’s staying at the clubhouse.”
I thought they were still after her because they broke into her house again the other night. I just haven’t told Ivy. There’s no point in worrying her until this is all sorted. “Did you see the men?”
“Both had dark features.”
It wasn’t her ex then—he has dirty-blond hair and pale skin.
“I had to tell Reaper and Bomber, who was at the gate. They want you to come in for a club meeting.”
“Be there in twenty,” I reply and end the call.
I tug at the neck of my shirt. My body is too warm, even when the cold air from the air conditioning washes over my skin. I check my radial pulse. It’s racing. I’m feeling weird.
They better not have killed Ivy’s ex. But then I know they wouldn’t have. No point in killing a person who owes money—then they’ll never get it back—which is good for me. It’s not like I’m a serial killer who harms innocent people. I harm only people who deserve it... like her ex. My hand clenches when I imagine the parasite... The need to touch my switchblade is fierce. I want to get my hands on him, carve his face like a Halloween pumpkin... Ivy and Sammy won’t miss that oxygen thief.
I drive home and park out the front of the clubhouse, then stride inside. Bomber’s first to meet me. “You ready for church?” he asks, his voice gruff and his expression stern like it always is until Zara walks into a room.
“Sure,” I reply, and force the smile everyone expects of me. We pass the computer room, then I put my phone in the bowl outside and walk inside church. I sit down at the large wooden table in my designated seat, which is on Bomber’s left. The men file into the room and take a seat. Every man’s eyes are on me.
When Reaper takes a seat at the head of the table, the room quietens. He’s the president, and we respect him. If he hadn’t brought me into the club, I’d still be on the streets, or in jail or even worse... dead. The club is the only place I get praise for being a monster.
“I’d like to bring it to everyone’s attention that the loan sharking group that’s been after Ivy has found out she’s staying with us. They were at our gates this morning. My thoughts are to get in contact with their leader. See if we can work it out, before shit hits the fan,” Reaper tells us.
“Is this group harmless or is this something we need to worry about?” asks Viper.
The sympathy in Reaper’s eyes as he glances at me is unmistakable. “They’re one of the most dangerous in Las Vegas, so I’d like everyone to stay vigilant. I’m not sure if they see us as a threat because we’re keeping Ivy here, therefore withholding their money, even if she’s told them she doesn’t have it. I’d like the women and children to stay at the clubhouse until I find out and sort out a deal with them.”
I crack my neck from side to side... I’m feeling a little stabby. “Ivy’s still going to work. I’ll watch her... take her and bring her back.” There’s no negotiation in my voice. She wants to work. I’m not taking that away from her—she’s already lost enough.
Reaper lets out a sigh. “I won’t be able to convince Milly to stay put either.”
“Zara won’t stay either,” says Bomber in an exasperated tone. “She’ll want to work from the charity offices.”
“So, our resources are stretched thin,” adds Reaper. “I’ll keep you all updated when and if we receive a response from the organization. These sorts of people are unpredictable, and we don’t know exactly what Ivy’s ex has told them.”
Reaper looks at Twitch. “Twitch is handing out a picture of the men in the car who were seen out by the front gate.”
The paper stack goes around the table, passing from one to another until everyone has a copy. The picture shows two men in an old silver Lincoln Continental. The same car I saw driving slowly past Ivy’s house that night.
“Under the picture of the men, you’ll see details of the license plate.”
“Nothing we can’t handle,” says Axle. “Do they know who they’re fucking with?” Axle looks at me with a smirk on his lips. “That crazy motherfucker. He’s already slit two of their throats.” He leans back in his chair. “I’m just saying... He’s deadly—tortures, kills people who harm our club, and they are going after Ivy.” He shakes his head. “It’s going to be a bloodbath.”
I smile on the inside, but I sense Bomber’s eyes burning holes in the side of my head.
“No cowboy shit. I mean it, Demon. Wait until we find out what’s going on.”
He knows me a little too well... “Easier if I handle it now.” Get rid of those two. My inner psycho rejoices at the thought.
“Demon,” Bomber chastises as Axle snorts.
“I don’t want the whole organization to come to Crown Village and start an all-out war with us.”
Reaper has a point... even though I don’t particularly like it.
He peers around the table at everyone. “Let’s take it to a vote. If everyone is happy with our plan, raise your hand.”
Everyone raises their hand; my hand is a little slower to rise than the rest. Reaper bangs down the gavel.
Axle waits for me by the door. “So, when are you making it official?” he asks, his eyes radiating his amusement.
“Mmm... and what’s that?”
“Making Ivy your ol’ lady.”
I walk past him. This man loves to gossip. He catches up to me. “Oh, come on. You’re different.” He looks me up and down. “Lighter, happy even. Well, as happy as someone like you can be.”
I keep walking, searching for Sammy.
He wears a stupid grin. “And where’s your pretty little knife that’s usually glued to your hand?”
“I’ve got it.” I look down to where my gun and knife are kept in their holster and sheath.
“Bet you haven’t touched it since Ivy’s been here.”
I know he’s right. I have been different while Ivy and Sammy have been here, but I’m not going to tell him that.
“Jett!” Sammy is running toward me. I crouch down, and she launches herself at me and hugs me. There’s this strange sensation in my chest. I peer up at Axle, who’s flashing me a shit-eating smile.
I get some paper and pencils for Sammy, and she starts drawing pictures at the dining room table. Twitch walks in and hands her laminated paper. I look at the pages. He’s printed the alphabet, numbers one to twenty, and her name. “Here, Sammy,” he says, then gives her a marker. “You can use this to trace them. To, you know, get ready for school.”
Her face brightens as she stares at the paper and then looks back at him. “Thank you, Uncle Twitch.”
He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “That’s okay,” he replies softly and walks out.
It makes me realize that I’m not the only one who’s enjoying Ivy and Sammy’s company. “I’ll just be in my room if you need me,” I say to Sammy, then go upstairs. When I get to my bed, I fall on my back and bounce slightly from the movement. I think back to Axle’s comment about my knife, and he’s right... I haven’t been touching it at the clubhouse. At times, I’ve forgotten about it. I feel the need to hold it only when Ivy’s in danger.
I have a fascination with knives. Like I’ve always felt more comfortable holding the handle of a knife than a gun, and it’s obvious why, but stabbing people who deserve it is still socially unacceptable. Joining the MC has given me a purpose—getting justice. I’ve been desensitized to violence for a long time. Torturing or killing someone who hurt the people in the club or the club’s ol’ ladies brings my monster peace.
It isn’t long until I’m back in the hospital parking lot and I’m walking toward the hospital entrance. I scan the parking lot first, searching for the Lincoln and then checking the perimeter. A few people glance at me with wide eyes and a woman veers off to walk around me, but nothing’s out of the ordinary.
Once inside, I search for Ivy in the cafeteria. I don’t go to her floor because I don’t intend to interfere with her job. She loves it and works hard, so who am I to interfere with that? Just my presence seems to upset people. I look around. She’s not down yet, so I grab a seat at a nearby table facing the elevator so that I can see when she’s coming.
Fifteen minutes later she walks out. She glances around the cafeteria until her eyes find mine and she flashes me a wide smile. It’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her being happy just to see me, and it makes my throat constrict as if a noose is around my neck. I enjoy her animated facial expressions—they’re fascinating to me, considering I have to fake mine.
She takes a seat. “How’s your morning been?”
I think about the club meeting. It’s been a shit morning, but I keep my cool, my expression unreadable. “All right. How was work?”
She shifts in her chair. Does she know what’s going on?
“What’s up?” My voice is colder than I had intended.
She flinches but forces a smile, and I don’t like it one bit. She reaches over and slides her dainty hand over my tattooed one. I study her. Her eyes are darker underneath. “Didn’t you get much sleep last night?”
She snorts. “Are you saying I look like shit?”
I’m honest. “I don’t think you could ever look like that.”
Her cheeks flush. “Yes, I’m tired. This shift is going to be a big one, but at least I get to sleep in tomorrow. Well... that’s if Sammy lets me.” She has a few days off before she starts her full-time shifts again.
She leans forward, hope spread across her face. “So, we’re still going on a date tomorrow?”
My chest swells. Date? The foreign word rattles in my skull.
She must see the expression on my face because she says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put a label on it. I meant just to spend time together, me and you.”
I nod, out of my depth, still confused about why such a pure soul would want to associate with me—a monster—alone. I can’t deny the pull between us, even though it’s to her demise, but she’s persistent and has made it clear she sees something in me that makes her want to spend time with me.
Maybe she wants to save me... fix me... If that’s the truth, she’s wasting her time because I’ve sinned too much to be saved. But after spending time with her and Sammy, I’m starting to realize that I want them in my life. Ivy’s my morphine—she makes my pain go away and my life tolerable. I don’t want to give that up, so I’m going to try to do what she asks of me.
That night, after I pick her up from work, she falls asleep in my truck. I watch her. She looks so peaceful, but my cock is hard and all I want to do is screw her again. When we arrive at the clubhouse, I exit the truck, go around, open the door, and gently pull her into my arms. Her sweet scent makes me groan internally. She stirs but doesn’t wake, so I carry her small body through the house. We draw a few odd stares from the men, but I ignore them and go up the stairs.
I stand between our doors, knowing I should be taking her to her and Sammy’s bedroom, but I just can’t do it because the thought of her in danger makes me manic and I need her... I need her to tame my monster. I need to feel her body against mine to make me more at ease. She has my dick so hard and my psyche so fucked-up that I should be in an asylum, wearing a straitjacket. Possessive thoughts have been invading my brain all day.
I take her into my dark room and close the door with my foot. Even though the only light is the moonlight filtering through the window, I can see her sleepy eyes open at the sound. I lay her down on my bed. She blinks a few times, then looks around. I grab a fistful of my shirt, rip it off, and send it to the floor. I yank my jeans off. She bites her bottom lip as she eyes me up and down. When her eyes land on my dick, I stroke it, then move to her.
“But I haven’t had a shower yet.” Her voice is soft with embarrassment.
“Like I give a fuck.” I’m salivating at the thought of taking her again, so I lean over her and crash my lips to hers to prove I want her. The soft little moan from the back of her throat shoots straight to my cock. I get back up and she lifts her hips, so I pull her pants and underwear down. She pulls off her top and bra, exposing those perfect tits.
I get back on top of her. My fingers are aching to touch her, so I run a hand around her side, then her stomach, amazed by the softness of her flesh. She stiffens. I pause. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a loose skin on my stomach from when I was pregnant.” Her voice is brittle, vulnerable.
“You grew a literal human. It’s nothing short of incredible.” I press a kiss to the throbbing vein on her neck. “Never be embarrassed by that. If anything, it only turns me on more.” Her body releases its tension. Nothing could turn me off her.
Leaning forward, I take that sweet mouth in a passionate kiss, then, while holding myself up on one arm, I grip my cock with my other hand and drag its head through her heat. She moans my name, sweet and soft, needy and submissive. Burning fire courses through my veins.
For two beats of my heart, we stare at each other. I surge forward. Her eyes widen and she cries out as her back bows off the bed. Right then and there I nearly lose it. Tight. Hot. Constricting... Perfect. I claim her, drive hard and deep. My body is the one thing I can give her. She is mine, and I want everything from her.
Her fingernails dig into my shoulders, ripping a growl from my lungs. I love the mix of pleasure and pain. “Mark me, make me bleed,” I say through heavy breathes. The slices of pain that follow make me groan in satisfaction.
Skin slapping and loud breathing echo throughout the room. As I pound into her, my cock bottoms out, and I want to do this forever. My muscles are bulging and flexing with each movement. “You want my cum inside you?” I needed to mark her. I think I’d die if she said no, but what a way to go out.
Sweat dampens the hair around her temples. “Yes, oh God, yes.”
I want to come inside this woman a thousand times over, so I pound into her. She fucking detonates and clenches my cock in spasm after spasm. My muscles tense, balls draw tight, and I fucking lose it. I come hard and fill her up. She’s heaven.
After she falls asleep, a shiver races up my spine and lodges in my throat. I realize I’d do anything for this woman. If she wants my heart, I’ll carve it out for her and deliver it on a silver platter.