Slay (Storm MC #4)

Donovan.

His eyes found mine, and he headed my way, not letting my gaze go.

“Evening,” he murmured when he was standing in front of me.

My tummy fluttered as his voice slid through me. Commanding would be how I’d describe it best. It affected me so much I almost lost my balance. Never in my life had I come across a man who could do that from the sound of his voice alone.

Jess cut into my thoughts. “I’ll leave you to it.” She took the tequila and headed over to where Damian was. I didn’t take much notice, though, because my attention was completely on Donovan.

“It’s been a week since I’ve seen you,” I stated.

And I’ve missed you.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit.” Fuck, the tequila was doing all the talking now.

Surprise touched his face, and he remained silent for a couple of moments. Finally he agreed, “Yeah, bullshit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and I didn’t pursue it. His honesty was all I needed.

“You want a drink?”

He gave a quick nod. “Thanks.”

I jerked my chin at his table in the corner. “I’ll bring the bottle over.”

I watched his sexy ass as he left me. God, I wanted to hold that ass in my hands. I moved my gaze up his body. His shirt was fitted against his hard muscles. I wanted to take that shirt off and run my hands over those muscles.

Shit.

Put your tongue back in your mouth, woman.

I grabbed a glass and the bottle of scotch and joined him a moment later. Sitting across from him, I passed him both. “You can pour your own tonight.”

He raised his brows. “This how you treat all your customers?”

“No, only the ones I want to fuck.”

He didn’t even blink. Instead, he picked up the bottle, poured himself a drink and knocked it back before asking, “Are there many on that list?”

I leaned across the table and whispered, “It’s a new thing I’ve started and there’s only one on it so far.”

His stare was intense as he said, “Keep it that way.”

A shiver ran down my spine at his words and I squeezed my legs together.

He spoke again before I could think of what to say to that. “Why’d you walk away from your family?”

Totally wasn’t expecting that.

“How’d you know that?”

He poured another drink and took a sip, drinking this one much slower than the last. “Layla, I’m sure you’ve worked out by now I get to know everything I can about the people in my life.”

“I figured as much, but I’m not really in your life.”

He stared at me with a hint of frustration. “What would you call it, then?”

“I don’t know. You visit my bar and help me out when I need it.”

“And is that not what you’d call a friendship?”

“Okay, so we’re friends. Do you really investigate all your friends?”

“I do. So tell me, what happened with your family?”

Unease stirred in my gut. I hated talking about this stuff, because it meant I actually had to dredge the shitty memories up. And usually I had to censor the story, but something told me I could share the full truth with Donovan if I really wanted.

Did I want to?

He waited silently for me to talk. I took a deep breath and began. “Annie and I grew up almost as sisters. Our parents hardly spent any time with us, always leaving us with babysitters so they could attend social functions or go on holidays. So we had that strong bond, you know?” He nodded his understanding, and I continued. “When I was eighteen and Annie was sixteen, I discovered her father had been molesting her for years. She was fucked-up, and I finally dragged the truth out of her.” I took another breath and looked at him. He was watching me intently, waiting patiently for me to get it out. I still hadn’t decided how much to share with him. “I . . . ” my voice drifted off as I struggled with what to tell him.

“What did you do?” He tried to coax it out of me, and as I looked at him, I knew he could handle the truth and not judge me for it.

“I tried to kill her father. I walked in on them and couldn’t stop myself. They were in their kitchen and I grabbed a knife... I stabbed him a couple of times and slashed his face but the bastard didn’t die. Annie tried to stop me. She didn’t want me to go to jail, but I didn’t care about that. I just wanted her safe from him forever. In the end, his wife came home and saved him. I’ll never understand a mother who puts a husband like that above their child.” Memories assaulted my mind and I thought I might vomit. To this day, it still made me sick to think about what Annie endured throughout her childhood.

“Did her mother know it was going on all that time?” Donovan seemed as sickened by it as I was.

“No, but I screamed it at her while she tried to stop me from killing him. She wouldn’t listen.”

“So he didn’t die?”

“Not from what I did to him, but he killed himself a week later.”