“Go shower, Li,” I said, pointing at the door to the bathroom. “You need to get cleaned up, get all that dirt, grease, and blood off your skin.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Lilah said and proceeded to the bathroom, casting me a small smile over her shoulder before locking herself in. Placing my hands on the back of my head, I blew out a long breath and slumped to the side of the bed.
As I thought of the moment I saw Lilah trapped under that gate, then that Nazi fucker aiming a slug at her head and what if I hadn’t jumped in the way and she’d been hit, I felt fuckin’ sick to my stomach.
Falling back on the mattress, I stared at the ceiling and squeezed my eyes shut as I heard the water turned on. My old man had always told me to fuck as much * as I could handle, but never settle down. Fuck sluts, plant them with a couple’a kids to carry on the Willis name, but never give them my patch, never make them mine.
But thinking of that bitch in the shower right now had me twisted up in knots. I didn’t wanna fuck any sluts when she was around. Hell, when she wasn’t! I only wanted one *… hers, even if the bitch it belonged to was some kind of other-level crazy. She stirred things in me that I didn’t even know existed, made me think things about property patches and putting my club colors on her back.
My eyes snapped open at these thoughts, and I knew one thing. I fuckin’ loved the bitch. I was fuckin’ in love with the bat shit-crazy pilgrim blonde taking a shower in my bathroom right now… naked.
Fuck! Blood traveled to my dick and I almost came at the vision of taking her. I’d never had to work for a bitch, always clicked my fingers and sluts would come running. Forget looking as good as I do. Just being in the club would get me laid. Hell, I could be the ugliest motherfucker to grace the planet and I’d still get a slut sucking on my cock. But Lilah was more; she didn’t cave to my *-trapping smile, didn’t fall on my bed and spread her legs, wasn’t impressed by the club. Shit, the opposite was true. Maybe that’s why she was different.
Sitting up, I began stripping off my cut, my shirt, and my jeans and pulled on some boxers. I usually went commando, but I didn’t wanna scare Lilah, naked and sporting a boner from hell. I needed to grab a shower too, needed to wash the stench of fuckin’ Nazi scum from my skin. As I looked at the clock on my wall, I realized Lilah had been in the shower for a damn age. Twenty minutes had passed, the water was still running, but I couldn’t hear shit from Lilah.
Walking to the door, I pressed my ear against the wood, but nothing, just falling water. Knocking, I asked, “Lilah, you good?”
No answer came, and my heart started racing. “Lilah? Say something.”
Again, sweet fuck all, so I tried the doorknob; it was locked. “Lilah, say something now or I’m coming in,” I warned.
When there was still nothing from the other side, I moved back, then using all my strength, smashed my shoulder against the door, splintering wood as the door burst open.
Steam from the shower clouded the room and I could hardly see my hand before me. “Lilah? Where the fuck are you, baby?”
I caught a sniffling from the shower and followed the sound, the steam clearing some through the open door, allowing me to see Lilah huddled naked on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs.
“Lilah!” I yelled and threw open the shower door, turned off the water, and dropped to my knees. Lilah was soaking wet. I checked her over with my eyes, not seeing any blood or injury.
“Lilah? Talk to me!” I ordered.
“I cannot get up,” she whispered, her head still down.
I moved forward and searched her legs—nothing.
“Why can’t you get up?”
Lilah’s head lifted and she looked right at me. Her face was pale, she had red rings around her eyes from crying, and her wet waist-length blond hair was stuck to her cheeks.