Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
LUCIFER
Ever the masochist, I remain still as Tori gets jabs in. For every physical blow she sends to my chest, she lands a verbal one too, calling me every name under the sun—from Satan himself to a deranged predator. Ultimately, it’s that last one that makes my control snap.
My tattooed fingers wind around her dainty wrist, halting her from delivering another punch.
“Enough,” I growl, my fingers flexing against her pulse point. She tries to snatch her hand free, but my grip tightens as my patience wears thin. The woman has every right to be mad, but there is a time and a place, and this ain’t it.
Her nostrils flare as she glares at me. “Let me go.”
Unable to help myself, I apply more pressure. I don’t want to snap the girl’s wrist in half, but maybe if I put the fear of God in her, she’ll shut the fuck up.
“Are you done?” I grind out.
“Am I done?” she parrots. “No, I’m not fucking done.
My best friend is lying in a hospital covered in burns because of some sick obsession you have with her.
” She pulls her hand free and slams both palms against my chest. She tries to shove me back, but she’s outmatched by my size and strength.
Still, she doesn’t let that deter her from letting her voice be heard.
The girl is on a mission to let me know just how much she despises me.
“I knew . . . I fucking knew you were going to ruin her, but this. . .” Her voice trails, and she shakes her head.
“Amelia says she’s in critical condition. ”
“You spoke with Amelia?”
Her eyes narrow into tiny slits. “How the hell do you think I found out what happened?”
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days.”
“Yeah, well, I took my daughter on vacation. We just got back this morning. Jess was supposed to pick us up from the airport. When I couldn’t get hold of her, I called the bar. You can imagine how unsuccessful that was considering it’s nothing but a heap of rubble.”
Structurally, the building is still standing, but instead of calling her out on her exaggeration, I bite the inside of my cheek and let her continue with her tirade.
“So, I called Amelia, and she told me what happened. I dropped Poppy off at a friend’s house and shot straight here.” She rubs at the mark my grip left on her wrist. “You want to explain why everyone here thinks you are Jess’s husband?”
I pull at the back of my neck, my gaze sweeping around the room to make sure there’s no one in earshot. Satisfied that the coast is clear, I bring my attention back to Tori.
“Like I said, I couldn’t get in touch with you, and I don’t know how to reach her family. What was I supposed to do? Let them treat her like some Jane Doe?”
Her eyebrows shoot to her forehead. “So, you told them you were her husband?” She crosses her arms against her chest and shakes her head, disgust flitting across her features. “How very on-brand for a controlling stalker like yourself. Tell me, did you blow up the bar just to make your move?”
I take one step forward, looming over her. “You think I wanted any of this to happen?” The words rip out of me, low and guttural, vibrating through my chest. “That I meant to put her in harm’s way?”
“I don’t think you give a damn about anyone but yourself,” she fires back, chin tipped up, defiance radiating from her eyes.
“You saw a beautiful, young girl, and you decided you wanted to make her yours. And I’ve heard enough stories to know you’re the type of man who will do vile things to get whatever you want. ”
The accusation lands like a blade between my ribs.
She isn’t wrong.
Not entirely.
I wanted her.
So help me God, I wanted her more than anything.
I wanted to claim her and taint her with every filthy thing I am until she was just as ruined as me. I wanted to mark her skin with my teeth and my hands and my name until she couldn’t remember a time before me. I wanted to crawl inside her chest and make a home there.
Bend her will to mine and make her need me the way I need air.
But I also knew how wrong wanting her was.
For once in my goddamn life, I tried to exercise control.
I kept my distance. I buried it. I choked it down every time she was near me.
Every time our eyes locked, and she looked at me like she could see past the ink and the scars to the man underneath.
I held the line. I held it until the explosion blew it all to hell.
“You’re right. I wanted her.”
Tori’s mouth opens, but I don’t let her speak.
“I wanted her in ways that would make your skin crawl. And I knew—knew—how wrong every single one of those thoughts was.” My voice drops, and I lean in close enough that only she can hear me.
“I never wanted her to get hurt. Never. And I’ve been doing everything in my power to make it right.
So now, you can hate me all you want. You can hate me until the day you die.
But you’re going to shut the fuck up and listen to what I’ve got to say because Jess needs you. ”
The fight doesn’t leave her face, but something shifts behind her eyes.
She swallows hard, and I take her silence as my cue to continue.
“The burns—they’re bad. Real bad. From what the doctors say, her legs suffered the worst of it.
I can’t see how bad the damage is because they’re bandaged, but one can imagine. ”
I drag a hand down my face, feeling the stubble scrape against my palm.
“They’ve got her in a medically induced coma and are pumping her full of fluids.
The last couple of days have been all about stabilizing her body and preventing hypovolemic shock.
The next step is surgical excision, where the doctors go in and remove any dead tissue and apply skin grafts. ”
Tori’s arms uncross, dropping to her sides. The color drains from her face, and for a moment she looks as if she might collapse. I reach for her elbow out of instinct, but she jerks away from my touch.
“Don’t,” she whispers.
I let my hand fall and bite the inside of my cheek, giving her a moment to absorb everything I’ve dumped on her.
After a few moments of silence pass between us, I continue, “She has a long road ahead of her, one that is going to consist of multiple surgeries and rehabilitation. She needs a support system. You need to get in touch with her family, and you need to do it quickly. Preferably before she goes in for her first surgery.”
Tori shakes her head. “I can’t.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
I’ve been going out of my mind trying to reach Tori, figuring once I did, she’ll take the reins here, and I can go back to writing checks and lurking in the shadows.
“Her phone wasn’t recovered from the bar, but if it’s a matter of getting her parents’ contact information, I can have one of my guys pull an extraction of her phone records. ”
She worries her lower lip between her teeth and shakes her head again. My patience teeters.
“You keep shaking your head, but I’m gonna need some fucking words,” I grind out.
“There’s no family to call.” She stares at me blankly for a moment before an exasperated sigh escapes her lips. “You’re not a very good stalker, are you? I met Jess at the women’s shelter. I was a single mom with nowhere to go, and she was a runaway.”
My jaw is locked so tight I can feel the tendons straining in my neck as I stand there, motionless.
A runaway.
The word rattles around inside my skull, and suddenly every piece of information I thought I had about Jess rearranges itself into something uglier, something I wasn’t prepared for.
My mind races through every worst-case scenario.
Abuse—physical, emotional, sexual. Neglect.
A home that wasn’t a home. A family that wasn’t family.
The unknowns pile up like kindling, and something hot and vicious curls in my gut as the protective instinct I’ve felt since I laid eyes on Jess flares.
“Lucifer.” Tori’s voice cuts through the red haze. “Are you listening to me?”
I blink, realizing I’ve been standing here in total silence for God knows how long, my chest heaving, my fists balled, knuckles white. I force my fingers to uncurl, one by one, and meet her eyes.
“I took her under my wing,” Tori continues, her tone losing some of its venom.
“When I finally saved enough money working at The Hideaway, I got us out of the shelter and into an apartment. Shortly after that, she started working with me.” She pauses, and I can see the accusation building behind her eyes again.
“Then you came along and got her fired. All so you could hire her at the bar to keep tabs on her.”
“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Tori.”
“What I’m saying is—” Her voice cracks, and for the first time since she walked through those doors, the mask slips.
Her eyes glisten, and she presses her lips together hard, like she’s physically holding back whatever wants to spill out.
“What I’m saying is, I’m all Jess has. But I don’t know how to be what she needs right now.
We never talked about shit like this. I don’t know her wishes or—if she even has any. We never had that conversation.”
Fuck.
She doesn’t know what Jess wants. And I’m just the selfish fuck who’s responsible for her friend’s injuries.
I think about the girl lying in that room—bandaged, unconscious, fighting for a life she built from nothing. A life she clawed out of the wreckage of whatever hell she had escaped. And now she’s back in hell, and no one can ask her what she wants because she can’t fucking answer.
“She doesn’t have medical insurance.”
“I’m aware.”
We haven’t discussed how or if we’re going to rebuild Rodeo Roundup, but if we do, we will provide coverage for everyone on the fucking payroll from now on. If it drains the profits—so be it.
I scrub both hands over my face and exhale through my nose. The anger I’ve been carrying since the explosion shifts, morphing into something heavier. Something I can’t quite name.