Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

They’d spent all their time at Sway’s place instead of his. Player told Vicious it was his way of keeping himself safe, but Vicious didn’t know what the brother was talking about.

Sway worked where she lived, so it was easier for her to be at her place. Plus, women like fucking in their own beds. All of it was an excuse to keep things in a neat little package, according to Player. Screw him , Vicious thought.

Wanting to prove to Player and himself, Vicious had invited Sway to his place for dinner. After checking on her at the shop, he came home and prepared dinner for them. Now, he stood on the front porch of his houseboat, nervous to let someone into his private world. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, letting her step in first.

Sway expected a rough place filled with trashcans overflowing with takeout containers and dirty laundry laying everywhere. It was far from that. The place was neat as a pin, nothing out of place. It was no bigger than her place except the layout was a little different. Walking farther inside, she loved the look—it was very Vicious. Dark leather furniture made up the seating area, and the back wall had built-in shelves filled with hardback books and knickknacks.

A few pictures sat here and there. Not many, just a couple. Picking up one, she saw it was a woman much younger than her. The black and white image was faded and worn. Setting the frame back down, she glanced back at Vicious. He stood stoic by the door as if waiting for her to run away. “Your mom?” she asked, pointing to the picture.

Vicious hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to have Sway in his home. He’d never brought anyone there. This was his one safe place where nothing and no one could touch him. When she walked inside, he worried she wouldn’t like it. Now, he didn’t want her to ever leave.

Looking at the framed picture, he shook his head. Vicious had no memories of his mother. “No, that was one of the sisters at the orphanage. Her name was Mary Agnes. She took care of me.” The nun had been the only one who cared for him. He’d loved her, then one day, she was gone and all he had was that picture.

Taking off his jacket, he hung it up in the small closet then helped Sway out of hers. As she unwound the colourful scarf from her neck, Vicious caught a whiff of her perfume. The aroma was pure seduction, like the wearer. “Would you like a glass of wine while I warm up dinner?”

Sway noticed how Vicious explained the woman in the photo but left it hanging in the air. “I’d love a glass.” God, she could definitely use a glass. A bottle. A case. Being in his home made her hands sweaty and her heartbeat rapid. What was it about Vicious that made those damn butterflies take flight?

Walking farther into the room, Sway thought about her question. What was it about Vicious that made her stomach do flips and her heart go pitter-patter? It was more than his ruggedly handsome face and his muscular stature. It was something behind those moss-green eyes of his. Something that called to her. Something haunted.

After dinner, Sway made her way upstairs and changed into something more comfortable. Coming back downstairs, she stumbled when she saw Vicious sprawled out on the sofa in just his jeans. Soft music played, making the air feel more erotic. He was definitely in his element here. Taking her time, she sauntered over to where he laid. Vicious reached out, snagging her hand. “You finally decided to join me.” He smiled, giving her a wink.

Sitting down next to him, she curled her legs underneath her. Picking up the glass of wine he had poured for her, she took a sip. “This is a great vintage.”

“I think so.” Watching Sway, Vicious knew he had to ask about Jerome. “Sway?”

“Hmmm?”

“Have you been honest with me about Jerome Michel and any of the Scorpions coming by the shop?”

Sway set down the glass as she looked at Vicious. “What the hell? Why would you ruin our evening by bringing that asshole up?”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He tried smoothing out her mood. Sitting upright, he tilted her head so she had to look at him. “I’m worried is all. ”

Seething, that was the word she would call what she was feeling. Why did men always have to ruin a good time? “No, and if he had, I’d tell you.” She saw the look and rolled her eyes. The man had the worst timing. “Now that you’ve brought up the jackass, why are you asking?”

Vicious should have known the question would lead to more than a simple answer. “He’s been seen lurking around the shop.”

Sway sat up and looked at Vicious. “How long have you known this?”

“Player told me today.”

“And how does Player know Jerome’s been lurking around the shop?”

“I can’t be there twenty-four-seven, and yes, I want . . . no . . . I need to know you’re safe.” Tugging her back down, he felt Sway resist but refused to give in. He wanted her lying next to him. When she finally relented, he wrapped his arms around her. “I want you safe. Is that so terrible?”

“No.” Sway tried to sit back up, which failed as Vicious kept her pinned to him. Letting out a sigh, she stayed where she was. “It’s not bad that you want me safe. The problem I’m having is how you asked me about Jerome.”

“What do you mean?” Vicious ran over his question in his mind and found nothing wrong with his words.

“You basically accused me of lying to you about Jerome coming by the shop.” Vicious moved so fast, she almost fell off the sofa.

“Woman, if I felt the need to accuse you of something, we wouldn’t be here. Do you have any idea what it means for me to have you here?” Vicious looked at Sway staring at him like he had two damn heads.

“I don’t know, Vicious. I don’t know because you don’t tell me things, like what I mean to you or why you’ve never taken me to the clubhouse to meet your brothers. How about why we’ve never talked about your family? Do you even have family?” Sway stayed where she was even when she wanted to jump up and shake the life out of him.

“You know about my life. Everything about my life. I’ve held nothing back.” She saw the expression on his face and realized he didn’t know what to say. How hard was it to express your feelings? “Vicious, say something. Don’t just stand there staring at me.”

He’d never given any of it a thought. He wanted her to himself and bringing her to the clubhouse would change that. Closing his eyes, Vicious calmed himself down. This whole conversation had backfired on him. “I don’t want to share you with the brothers.” He saw the shocked look on her face and almost laughed. Holding up a finger, he stopped Sway from speaking. “What I mean is, I don’t want them to be a part of our relationship.”

“Aren’t they your family?”

“Yes. My only family.” Biting the bullet, he decided to tell her about his birth family. Walking over, he dropped into a chair across from where she sat. “I was an orphan by the age of three. My parents were killed in a plane crash. I lived at an orphanage for two years until Mary Agnes saved me.” It came out in a rush.

Grabbing a throw pillow, Sway hugged it to her. “What do you mean she saved you? ”

“Some of us were being abused. One night, I ran away from my abusers, and she decided to take me away. Somehow, she managed to get us into Canada, and this is where we started a new life. She died of cancer when I was sixteen.” When he opened his mouth, the words fell out like they had been waiting his whole life to be heard.

Sway wanted to go to him, but instead, she remained on the sofa. “I went to jail on more than one occasion, but you know that,” he said, and she smirked at the comment. “You haven’t told me how you feel about me yet.”

Vicious glanced up at Sway. “I’d rather show you how I feel about you.”

“Then I suggest you show me.”

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