Chapter Thirty
“We have to go,” Jude shouts. “Now.”
My head is still spinning as I scoop Emma up in my arms. I almost killed her. I almost fucking killed her—and not because I wanted to. How did she end up here? How did she get in this fucking room?
The alcohol buzzes my head. I can’t fucking drive like this. I can’t look at her now that we’re in the light either. I hurt her. Yeah, she stabbed me.
Because I was about to snap her neck.
“A couple of Ivan’s guys are here,” Jude says in a low voice, gesturing for me to hurry. But I’m fucking limping. His eyes widen. “Whoa.”
Emma clings to my shirt and I pass her to Jude as I step out into the lobby, where Chester is sitting with a smirk on his face.
“I guess you did know her,” he cackles to me. “She wanted in there so bad, I couldn’t turn her down—and she got real jealous when I said it was a big-titted—”
He doesn’t get to finish as I put the blade right through his chest. He gasps and gurgles as Jude gets Emma out through the back exit. “I thought you wanted to get over her…” Chester croaks, grabbing at the wound and knife.
I rip it out and make a second stab—right into his heart. “Fuck you, Chester. You should know better than to toy with me.”
The light leaves his eyes, and I let him drop to the floor. He was always slimy anyway. I drop the knife on his body, now slumped on the floor, and head for the back exit. My mind replays the way I hurt Emma tonight, but I’m still livid Jude brought her here.
I make it to the parking lot as Jude is helping Emma into the passenger seat. She has a partial mask on, and there’s blood smeared across her. My blood. I dig into my pocket and pull out my motorcycle keys.
Jude turns to me. “I’ll take the bike. You take her. They’re going to be on us soon, and they don’t know my truck.”
I toss the keys to him, not in the mood to argue. “Okay. Meet you back there. I need fucking stitches.”
Jude’s eyes drop to my blood-soaked jeans. “Drive safe. You”re pushing it.” He slams the passenger door, and I race to the driver’s side of the truck, climbing inside and slamming it shut. I still can’t look at her in the face.
I’m ashamed I almost killed her, but I’m also ashamed she knows one of my darkest secrets. It makes Jared look angelic, probably. I start the engine, and shift the truck into gear, whipping out of the parking lot just as a couple of guys appear in the alley.
“I had no idea it was you,” I hear my voice, but it sounds distant as I race toward the highway, cutting through traffic.
“I know,” she says, her voice devoid of emotion. “I thought… I thought it was maybe like a sex game or something, even though Jude told me the truth. And the guy said—” Her voice breaks into a sob. “I’m so stupid.”
“No,” I choke out. “I just… I shouldn’t have gone.”
“I thought you were at a strip club for the women,” she laughs, borderline manically. “But you were just there to kill people. I don’t know what’s worse.”
I reach across her, resting my hand on her thigh. “I can’t look at anyone but you—and I thought I was going crazy,” I admit. “I thought my head was playing tricks on me. I’m so fucking sorry.” I finally glance over at her. “I hurt you.”
She raises a brow at me. “I stabbed you.”
“I probably gave you a concussion.” I feel sick as I say the words. “I’m so fucking sorry, Emma. I never—I never would’ve done that to you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I kind of wanted to stab you,” she says. “For walking through a sex club.”
“I go through the back entrance, Little Red.”
“Oh.” Her eyes drop to my leg. “Then I guess I’m sorry I stabbed you.”
“All good,” I chuckle, punching my foot on the gas as I merge onto the highway. Jude isn’t far behind, and he catches up quickly. “But I’m going to kill him for bringing you.”
“No, don’t,” Emma says softly. “I was going with or without him.”
I eye her. “Why?”
“Because I’m a jealous, psycho bitch.” Emma’s voice takes a dark edge, and my cock comes to fucking life at her tone.
“Concussion talking,” I mutter.
“No,” she angles her body toward me. “It’s not. You didn’t really hit me that hard. I only saw stars.”
“Holy fuck.” I cringe. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Guilt, shame, anger, and pure sadness ravage me. “Why didn’t you say something as soon as you walked in?”
“I felt frozen,” she answers me, and then reaches for the center console, flipping it up so she can slide in beside me. “And maybe I was curious as to what you’d do.”
“Yeah?” I can’t breathe as her body brushes mine. The blood smeared across her cleavage is too much. I focus on the road, knowing I’m already close to the limit, anyway… I stiffen as I feel her fingers on the button of my jeans. “What’re you doing?”
“Proving that I’m just as good as the girls there,” she hits back.
“I never questioned that,” I breathe out as she frees my cock. “You’re the only fucking woman in this world as far as I’m concerned—” I stop talking as a groan escapes my throat. Emma wraps her tongue around the head of my cock, and it feels so good.
And so wrong.
She’s rewarding me for nearly killing her.
“Stop, Emma,” I choke out as she drops down my length. “I don’t—I don’t deserve this from you. Don’t you fucking see?” I start to break apart, fracturing right in front of her.
“You don’t want me?” The hurt is visible in her face.
“No, I want you more than anything,” I reason with her. “I want you so fucking much that I can’t stand the thought of anyone else ever having you, Little Red.”
Something flickers in her eyes. “Then let me do this. This is how you apologize.”
I swallow at the fire in her voice. This whole notion seems fucked up, but… “Okay. Suck my dick then.”
Her lip twitches upward, and she leans back over, not even bothering to toy with me. I suck in a hard breath as she takes me down the back of her throat.
“Fuck,” I gasp, gripping the steering wheel as she bobs up and down. I can barely focus on the road as her hands join her mouth, gripping the base of me. She pumps and sucks as I white knuckle the steering wheel. I drop a hand to her hair, threading my fingers through her soft locks.
I’ll do anything for this woman.
I rest my head against the back of the seat as I take the exit off the highway. I let off the gas as a guttural groan fills the cab and my come shoots down the back of her throat.
She swallows and then leans back. Before she can wipe her mouth, I grab her chin and bring it to mine, giving her a heavy kiss. I taste myself there, and I get turned on all over again. I break away so I don’t wreck Jude’s truck and put myself away.
Emma leans against my shoulder, wrapping her arms around mine. She rests her head against my shoulder, and I ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes with the way she’s touching me. It’s all wrong. It’s not me.
The me I know would’ve finished the woman in the suicide chamber. He would’ve never let Emma live beyond the night we met. I don’t know what the fuck happened to him, and I’m starting to wonder if I still have it in me to do my job. The thought of being unable to make a living is…
Bothersome.
Though, with Victor’s inheritance I don’t really need it. I spend the rest of the drive focusing on anything other than that, and by the time I pull up outside of the garage, I’m feeling a little less tormented.
“How’s your head?” I ask Emma as she sits up, and I ease the door open. My fucking leg is on fire, but I’ll take the physical pain any day over the shitstorm in my head.
“Ibuprofen and I’ll be good,” she says, giving me a small smile. “Maybe a shower, too, though. What about your leg?”
“Stitches would probably be a good idea,” I laugh, sliding out of the truck and wincing as more blood gushes from the wound. It’s not as deep as what Emma thinks. She didn’t get the knife far.
“Let’s go inside and wait for Jude.”
She nods, following me into the house. I know she’s in pain by the way she rubs the back of her head, and it makes me want to fucking set myself on fire for doing it to her. I’d never hurt her—not unless she…
She’s not going back to him. She chose me tonight.
Emma braved the fucking suicide chamber for me. That’s admirable, really. I watch as she heads for the kitchen, making herself a glass of water.
“I didn’t finish the dishes,” she says to me as I limp to one of the chairs at the table.
“Why’s it matter if you finished the dishes? I’ll do them later.”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought I was being helpful.” Emma eyes divert from mine in the moment, and I don’t know if I said something wrong—or if this is one of those female things where she’s really upset about something else.
“You don’t have to earn your keep here,” I say carefully, my head throbbing. “Why don’t you go up and shower? We can watch a movie, do something normal after all this.”
She nods just as Jude steps into the kitchen. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
I watch her leave, breathing a sigh of relief. She’s got me on edge right now, and I don’t know which one of us is the root cause. She stabbed me, I hurt her. It’s not good. Nothing about the situation is good. I’ll have to spend the rest of my life making up to her for it.
“Tense,” Jude mutters the obvious as he sets the med bag on the table. “And before you try to murder me for what happened, I tried to stop it. Chester locked me out.”
“He won’t be a problem anymore.” I unbutton my jeans and slide them off, exposing the gash in my leg. “She thinks she got me a lot deeper than she did.”
“Yeah,” Jude replies flatly. “You need to keep an eye on her head.”
“I know,” I cringe at the sharpness in his voice. “I didn’t know it was her until she said something to me. I don’t know why she didn’t just fucking say something when she walked in.”
“Shocking for someone who’s not used to our world,” Jude says, cleaning out the gash with alcohol.
I wince at the burn. “She was brave.”
Jude glances up at me. “I think there’s something more to her.”
I wince as he jabs me with the needle. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Jude shrugs. “I think she’s a ticking time bomb. Something in her is going to snap—and then she’s going to explode. Too much has happened to her for her to be so… calm.”