9. My Skin Is Crawling
-Jade-
After Spade left, I put shorts and a hoodie on, then laid here and cried. I cried until my eyes couldn’t stay open anymore and I fell asleep. I woke up screaming again but he was right. How could I let The Carver in, but not him and Rio? I fucked up, but they fucked up too! They killed my mother! I just can’t get past that. It hurts. It all hurts. My heart loves them something fierce, but my brain is telling me to run and not stop. Actually, that’s a lie. My brain is telling me to kill them but, just thinking of any of them dead does something to me, and my chest squeezes tightly at the thought. Spade playing Russian roulette was something I never thought I’d witness with him. He was mad, hurt, and gutted. I don’t know what to make of it all. I just can’t grasp the situation at hand. How do they expect me to trust them? Look what D fucking did to me! And I trusted him with my life. He was someone I once loved—a brother to the club. Fuck. He was the club’s enforcer, and he fucking drugged and raped me worse than the Aces did. Every single person I let in betrays me. What did I do in this life to deserve disloyal fucking people? I can’t seem to trust anyone anymore. I feel so alone for the first time since my mother died. Yes, I always had the club and Kayla, but this is different. I gave myself to those that I trusted with my life and now–
The door to my bedroom bursts open and Dario comes barreling in. Great. I can’t look him in the face, I just can’t. Especially after the shit with Spade.
“GET OUT!” I scream.
“No,” He snaps, walking closer to my bed. I scoot back, not wanting to be touched, and I swear between him and Spade, touch is their love language.
“Ya know, Kitten, you haven’t even asked what, why, when, or how. You just automatically assumed the worst and shut us out.” He rubs his fingers across his stubble. Why is he so gorgeous? He comes storming in here in black ripped jeans with a matching tee. His muscles ripple through the fabric. I rub my thighs together. I swear my body and brain need to align, because this is ridiculous.
“It’s funny that you’re telling me to leave, yet your eyes are telling me to fuck you.” He smirks. I bite my bottom lip because I’m a slut for these guys.
“I can’t control what my pussy needs, but my brain wants you dead. All of you. Too bad my heart won’t allow it.”
“Good, because I made a promise to you and I’m a man of my word.” He inches closer, climbing onto the bed. He pulls my leg towards him, causing my body to slide down toward him, and leans my foot on his shoulder kissing up my calf, licking my inner thigh. My skin crawls. I don’t want gentle; this is not what I need. I try to close my legs but he growls. I’ve never felt more repulsed than I do right now, and it’s not him, it’s me. I’m not ready for all this. Therefore, I need The Carver. He knows exactly what I need. He gets to my panties and gently kisses my mound, and I wince. I’m not sure if Spade told him what Jamie did to me. He doesn’t pick up on how uncomfortable I am and continues up my body. Slow, gentle, and I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. I reach under my mattress and pull out the Glock I have hidden there and press it to his forehead. He stills.
“Get out, now! I will not repeat myself, Dario.”
He growls, pressing harder into the barrel.
“You’re not going to pull the trigger, Kitten.” He slaps the gun out of my hand, retrieving it and pressing it to my head. I look deep into his bi-colored eyes and slowly smile, knowing he loves me too much to hurt me.
“So, what? You’re going to shoot me, Daddy? Fucking do it or get the fuck off of me.” I smirk. He presses the barrel harder against my forehead, cocking it as he gets in my face. His lips are just a whisper away from mine.
“You have one night, Fallon, ONE, to throw yourself a pity party. Come tomorrow, we will sit down and you will let us explain ourselves. You are OURS! We marked you! It’s a done deal, and if you keep it up, I’ll put a baby in you. Then you really won’t be able to leave. Keep fucking with me and watch what happens.” He throws the gun on the bed and leaves without another word, slamming both doors as he walks out of here. I let out a breath.
I know what I need to do. No one is going to like it, but fuck it. I’ve been controlled for long enough. It’s time to do what I want, when I want, how I want, and with whom I want. I need a fight off the grid so they can’t stop me, but my knuckles are split to shit. I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Hayden. He’s my go-to guy for underground shit.
Me: Prettyboy, what you got for me? I need something quick and brutal. Don’t care about the buy in or pay out.
Hayden: Oh, look who it is. Where you been at? It’s really fucked up that you only call me for one thing, and it’s not even for some hard dick.
Me: Is that what you need, Prettyboy? Some tight pussy?
Hayden: You putting out Bikergirl?
Me: Get fucked! Are there any fights going on tonight?
Hayden: Your loss. Yea, there’s one tonight just outside of Brimstone.
Me: Okay, what time? And set me up for the biggest and the baddest of the bad.
Hayden: Is this a suicide mission?
Me: Guess you will have to just wait and see.
Hayden: mhm, 11 p.m. I’ll send you the addy.
Me: Thanks. See you later, Prettyboy.
Just as I’m about to place my phone on the charger and climb out of bed to find some clothes for my suicide mission, my phone pings again.
Jamie: Blood Queen, why did you leave without saying goodbye?
I gasp at the nickname. Why does Blood Queen make my pussy purr? Nope, I’m not doing this shit tonight. Some way, somehow, these fuckers will stop me from getting to this fight, so I need to move my fucking ass and get out of here before the three of them show up on my doorstep. I hurriedly throw on black leggings and a tank top. On my way out, I grab a black hoodie and my holster, putting my guns inside. The suite is quiet, and hopefully Kayla is sleeping or with the twins. She will be another person to stop me, especially if the twins are with her. I exit the suite and head out for the night. I need this. I will not allow myself to become a shell of a person. I’m strong, I’m fierce, I won’t let a man break me.
The night air is crisp. It’s officially November, the leaves are changing colors and are starting to fall from their stems, gearing themselves for the winter months. The air smells like snow is coming; it has such a familiar smell. It always reminds me of my mom, and all the fun times we spent snowed in, alone, because dad was always at the club house.
“Come on, Banphrionsa. Let’s go put some gear on and make snow angels. Then we can come back inside and warm up under the fire with a cup of hot chocolate, and those little marshmallows you love so much. How does that sound?” I look up at her, her bright green eyes peer down at me. I smile at her, and her face melts away.
Headlights take me out of the memory. A horn honks and I flip them off. Looking to see who it is that’s driving, I see Monty flipping me off with a snarl on his face. Fuck you harder, bitch.
I open the door to my SUV and climb in, putting the key in the ignition. I hook my phone up to the stereo, and turn on my playlist that gets me in the mood. My phone pings, making me roll my eyes.
Jamie: You don’t get to ignore me, not after what we did. So you have two choices. You either text me back, or I will come find you, and trust me, Little Creature, you will not like the outcome!
Well, Jamie, you can get fucked. I blast my music and head out of the Academy gates. I’m really over this place. At this point, I’m ready to have a conversation with my father and get out of here. It’s pointless. I make a damn good living at what I do. If I need extras, I have a best friend who will make whatever I need. I could understand being here if I needed to learn about our world, but I don’t, so I think it’s time to get out of here and just live in my house. As a matter of fact, I know my old man is awake. “Call Dad,” I say aloud after pressing the hands-free button on my steering wheel.
“Calling Dad”is repeated back to me in an accent, I know that tone, I just can’t place it at the moment. The phone dials out, and my father picks up after the third ring.
“Fal, everything okay? You don’t ever call me this late, kiddo,” he says in a gruff tone.
“Hey pops. Um, I’m fine, but we need to talk about a few things.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” he says, breathing deeply.
“Eww, gross. I want out of this Academy. It’s a waste of time. So I’m telling you now, that by the end of the week, I’m out. I’ll stay at the house, but I want the deed in my name.”
“This is what you interrupted me for? Because you want to leave the Academy?”
“Not just that, old man! But when the fuck were you going to tell me you arranged my marriage to D’mitri?” The line goes silent.
“Who told you?”
“Does it really fucking matter who told me? What should matter is that it’s never going to happen. Not now, not ever! So, if you want me to remain in this life doing what I do best, you will give me what I want.”
“First, you interrupt my night, then you make demands about leaving the Academy, and now you’re threatening to walk away from the club if I don’t give the princess what she wants?” What a condescending prick.
“Yeah, exactly.” He laughs. Legit laughs at me. “I’m dead serious, Pops. This isn’t a funny matter.”
“Are you done now, child?” Great, here the fuck we go. “You will do as you are told. If I tell you to jump, you ask how high. I don’t ask much of you. We will talk about the marriage at a later date, and it will happen. It’s what your mother wanted. Because the latter is never going to happen. The only thing I will grant you, is that you can leave the Academy. On one condition. Every weekend, you must come to the club house and help Slash.”
“Fine.” What’s funny is that he doesn’t know that D is dead. I should just send his head to him and pin it on another crew, but I really don’t want that headache.
“Talk soon, Fal.” The line goes dead.
I laugh because little does daddy dearest know; I get everything I want. It’s just going to be a mess when everyone realizes D’mitri is dead, and I’m not even sorry about it!
Rot in hell, mother fucker.