Chapter 39
July
“How’s your mother?”
I pause the tattoo machine on Jace’s back.
His question brings me out of my concentration.
The outline of his daughter’s newborn footprints is not my typical, but when he reached out, I told him it was fine because what the fuck else was I supposed to say?
Sorry, I can’t do it because I ate your sister’s pussy, and I want to do it again.
She’s being targeted by the gang I’ve hunted for the last decade. “Good.” I go back to the tattoo.
“You’re talkative today.”
I hear the humor in his voice, but I don’t take the bait, not in the mood. Too much shit has been going on, and as much as I appreciate him and everything he’s done, I’m barely able to concentrate on the crap going on with the Legion, the Mestizos, and my obsession with his sister.
“How’s everything at the shop?”
I wipe away the black ink and then clean the area so I can add more shading for the design. “Good.”
“And how’s my sister been?”
The fucking tremble in my usually steady hand pisses me off.
Just her name and my body reacts. Never, not in all my years of killing, have I felt tremors in my hands.
Not when I was slicing throats or cutting through layers of fat and tissue have I hesitated, but the thought of her and I’m shaking. Shit.
I twist on my stool and set down the tattoo machine.
Jace’s question isn’t happenstance. I look back at him, the confirmation is in his hardened gaze.
He knows something, senses something. I know she wouldn’t run to her brother about what we did.
It’s not her style, but I see something in his eyes that tells me he’s picked up the energy between us.
Not ready to answer him, I clean up the design and smear the color-retaining gel over the new tattoo, then cover it with a clear bandage. I should have been able to finish it easily, but when thinking about Camryn, nothing is easy. I can’t fucking tattoo right now.
Jace sits up and swings his legs around. He crosses his arms, and I stand, heading to the sink, ripping off my latex gloves, the same kind I used to finger her. I stare at the chair two feet away. A sudden memory of her crying my name in that chair flashes through my mind.
I wash my hands, needing a cigarette. I pull one out of my pocket, along with my matches, and light it, craving the pure nicotine. “We can finish the rest later.”
Jace doesn’t react, but he also doesn’t get up.
He doesn’t leave the way I need him to. He waits me out.
Patient fucking bastard. It’s one of the reasons I became friends with him.
I liked him the moment I met him. Thought he would fit right in with the Legion.
But his life wasn’t meant to be a biker, a killer.
He grew up in a world I know nothing about.
Just like his sister, my subconscious adds.
“You tell me, Park. How is your sister?”
“She was wearing your jacket a few months ago.”
I shrug, dismissing the fucking thrill in my chest and the twitch in my cock that she kept my jacket.
An image of her wearing it over her naked body while she waits for me upstairs runs through my head.
I squash the image and blow the smoke to the ceiling.
Fuck. Onyx is going to get on my ass about it.
“She went outside without her jacket,” I say it so nonchalantly.
As if my draping my jacket on her narrow shoulders that night was just courtesy.
As if I can’t still feel the satiny texture of her cheeks and the wetness of her tears.
Jace stands, his tall, powerful frame an equal match for mine. The only other man taller is Onyx, at nearly seven feet tall.
He looks at me through the curling smoke. Those green eyes silently denouncing my words. He knows me too well. I don’t give women my jacket. I don’t do courtesy or cordial.
“She’s not like the other women you’ve been with, Stefan.”
Anger flares at his invocation of my legal name. It’s a call to our bond. A call on the day I went to him for help.
His words also call forth the same fucking thoughts that have been circulating in my head since I saw her across his pool last year. The same conflict I’ve felt comes back.
I may want her desperately. I may stalk her and crave her, but she could never really be mine.
Not in the light, at least. Not for keeps.
She can only live in the shadows and in my mind.
I push the anger aside. I want to hurt him for the truth.
Honestly, I want to punch him in the throat for voicing what I already know.
“What kind of women would those be, Park?”
“Women who know what it means to be involved with men in the Legion. Women who can protect themselves. Women who don’t mind what you do.”
“And your sister can’t do those things?” I challenge him.
His shoulders slump before he picks up his shirt and pulls it over his head.
“I’m not saying she can’t. She can do anything if she puts her mind to it, but I’m not sure if she should have to.
She’s 24 fucking years old, Stone. She’s just starting her dream.
Is she going to learn how to shoot a fucking gun in case your lifestyle decides to take revenge?
How will she manage in your club, huh? I’ve seen what goes on there. ”
Every word punctures me, but it also enrages me. He doesn’t know much about her if he thinks she is some sort of woman in need of rescue. From the times I’ve been around her, she’s sensitive, but strong. “She is stronger than you think, Park.”
“Maybe, but I’m not willing to test it against the shit you have going on. It’s not worth the risk.”
I close my eyes against the accusation I feel in my heart, my mind. My sister and niece weren’t prepared for the world that Onyx, Riggs, and I inhabited. They paid the ultimate price for our choices. My choices. I open my eyes and stare at him.
“Have you told her?” Jace demands, studying me.
“Have I told her what?” I drag on the cigarette, pulling in as much smoke as possible, needing to suffocate that pain in my chest.
“Don’t play stupid. Have you?”
Have I told her that I’m a psychopath who enjoys bleeding a woman while I fuck her? Have I told her that I’ve killed more people than I can count? “There is nothing to tell her. She doesn’t factor into my life.” Lies.
“I’ve known you for years, Stone, and I never told you how to live your life, but I’m asking that you stay away from my sister.”
“How am I supposed to do that when you keep inviting me to your shit?” I look him in the eyes, daring him to tell me to stay the fuck away from him, too.
He doesn’t take the bait. “I can’t fathom losing her to your lifestyle. To your enemies.”
Me either. A voice whispers through my mind. An image of Ivory and Angel comes to mind, along with the guilt.
“I’m your friend. I always will be. Friendships mean something to me, but she comes first. Keep your distance. Please.”
I hear his plea. I hear what he’s asking me, and my mind accepts it while every other part of my body rejects his request.
“Will I see you later?”
Oh. Yes. His BBQ. The invitation to go back to his house that I accepted last week. The invitation I accepted so I could see her. So I could torture myself. Again.
It’s another test. If I go, I know what I’m saying to him. I’m telling him I will stay away from her. That I’m agreeing to his limitations.
Jace walks out thinking he has my trust. He has no idea about the 700-plus hours of tape of his sister that I listen to almost every night.
The way I luxuriate in her melodic voice.
The times she talks to herself or her damn pet lizard.
The frequency of times I follow her around, tracking her every move.
That I know her favorite food. Her cycle.
That I fingered her pussy and had my tongue deep inside her two weeks ago.
That I can still taste her earthy, floral flavor on my tongue and hear her cries in my ears.
Every fucking thing about her is memorialized, and her brother has no clue.
Jace: Where the fuck are you? Thought you were going to be here.
I stare at the text on my phone and grind my molars.
“You going?”
I turn when Onyx appears in the doorway. He leans against the wall, staring at me. I want to tell him no, that I have work, that I have flesh to scrape and tan. Instead, I volley the question back to him. “You going?”
“That chef who works at Sophia’s restaurant will be there. She can cook. I’m hungry.”
Of course, Onyx is hungry. The man eats more than enough for three men. I need to prepare for the next shipment. I can’t let Ivory and Angel down. “No. I’m going to stay.”
Onyx raises an eyebrow, but I ignore his knowing look and finish cleaning my station and tattoo guns.
“She’s grown, Stefan. She’s not a kid.”
I know that. Her pussy was all woman. I avoid his statement and say instead. “I think someone is following me.”
His energy changes. “Are you positive?”
I lean back in my chair and scrub my hand over my face.
“No definites, but someone knows where my mother is, and I’ve found a few suspicious tracks outside the cabin.
I have no idea what information they have.
They are getting way to close. Close to…
” I trail off. I could say they are getting too close to my mother, to me, but I also mean they are getting to close to Camryn.
Onyx’s stare is unflinching. He’s one of the smartest men I know and I’m sure he can fill in the end of the sentence I left hanging. “You care about what happens to her.” Onyx’s statement makes my breath hitch in my lungs.
He knows me better than anyone. “I care too fucking much.”
“Maybe that means something.”
“That’s exactly why I’m going to stay away from her. I can’t let another woman get hurt because of what I am, who I am.”
His eyes look tortured, and I hate that I brought it up again.
The memory of Ivory and Angel’s mangled bodies, carelessly tossed away and nearly burned to the ground.
All of it set in motion because of the Legion Lords.
Because of me. If I hadn’t become El Búho.
If I hadn’t become a man so feared, maybe they would still be alive.
My niece would be 16 years old now. She’d be a high schooler with dreams of the future.
Ivory would still be married to Onyx. He wouldn’t have had to bury his wife and daughter on the same day.
I watch him go, wanting to go with him. I’m sure Riggs will be there as well. The man has his own obsession with our new friend group, namely Jacqueline, but like me, he knows nothing can ever come of it. There’s an even bigger target on his back than mine.
Sighing, I bow my head. Now that I know what she tastes like; it’s killing me not to do it again. Not to push her legs back and feast on the sweetest, softest cunt I’ve ever tasted. To hear her keening cries and feel her fingers dig into my hair.
Gripping my hardened cock, I grit my teeth.
For the first time since I was 19 years old, I’m conflicted over my choices, wishing I wasn’t who I am, and she wasn’t who she is.
That I could spend hours, out of time and reality, and just slide my cock inside her, use my blade and cut her a little, watch drops of blood trail down her smooth, fragrant skin.
Lick the warm metallic taste off each part of her body.
I’m used to taking what I want, when I want it, and damn the consequences.
And for the last decade of my life, what I wanted was to kill the people who were directly and indirectly involved in the murder of my sister and niece.
Capture and torture the people who I know hurt and brutalize young children and women.
Fulfill the promise I made to Ivory and Angel the moment I touched their cold bodies, and saw the blank stare in their dead eyes.
But Camryn is different. She’s the promise of life and pleasure and beauty, not revenge or atonement. She is becoming the only thing I want just for my own in a world where everything I touch turns to ash.