Lawless (King #3)



I was telling the truth when I told Ti that I had no fucking clue what the plan was moving forward. Shit had changed so quickly. With her, and if I was being honest, with myself.

I wanted to talk to King the night before, but he had clients coming and going all night so I sat on the dock by myself with an untouched bottle of Jack on the ground next to me, trying to figure out my next move, and in the hours I spent down there all I figured out was that I didn’t know shit.

Not yet anyway.

My new plan was simple. We’d meet with Bethany, the lawyer, and go from there.

We’d deal with the law first.

The lawless second.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I barked as Ti walked out of the garage and right past where I was crouched down on the driveway trying to put my bike back together again. King had sent a tow truck to get it from the shed at Ti’s house and thankfully it came back without raising suspicions. I wiped the sweat on my forehead with the rag from my back pocket and lit the cigarette that had been dangling from my lips. I drank in Ti’s long muscular legs and my fucking cock jumped to attention like it always did when she was around.

God damn she was beautiful.

And she was mine.

“I was looking for you.” She crossed her arms across her chest, pressing out her braless tits against the fabric of the t-shirt I’d given her to wear the night before. “I woke up and you were gone. You know it’s okay to be nice. You don’t have to snap at me all the time.”

“I didn’t sleep much,” I said, standing up and taking a drag of my smoke. I felt bad for snapping at her but the truth was when I saw her leaving I had a flashback of her trying to run away and I immediately got heated.

“I can’t sleep with your tight ass pressed against my cock. You need something?” I asked, taking another deep drag off my smoke and letting the nicotine invade my brain. Truth was also that it had been days since I’d hit the hard stuff and the headache I was sporting made it seem like the world was yelling at me.

She looked down to the gravel. “Yes. No. I mean…yes?”

“Ti, spit it out,” I said, looking down at her rapidly healing face. The bruises around her eye were barely visible. Each minute that passed she looked more and more fuckable, and now that I’d actually had her, all I wanted was more.

I used to think that I wanted to go out in a blaze of bullets and glory. Now I think that I’d like to go out balls deep inside my girl.

MY girl.

“Can we just…for today, can we just, pretend?” she asked, rocking back on her heels and biting her lip.

“Pretend? Pretend what?” I took a drag of my smoke and slipped my other hand into my back pocket, leaning up against the side of the garage.

“Let’s pretend that I’m just Thia Andrews, a girl whose parents aren’t…” She looked away and sniffled, shaking her head. “And you’re just Bear, and you’re not pissed off at the world.” She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Not today anyway.”

I searched her face for the punch line, but there were no signs of a joke.

She drew a circle in the gravel with her flip flop. “Today I want to be a normal girl and you can be a normal boy and we are going to do whatever normal people do so we don’t get stuck thinking on all the bad shit that’s been happening.” She closed the distance between us and came to stand under me, looking up with pleading pale green eyes. “Please, Bear. Please. Just give me today. Be normal with me. Just for today.”

The idea was ludicrous, I didn’t even know what normal was. Normal was what I’d been battling since I’d left the club. I didn’t know how the fuck to do normal. I opened my mouth to tell her just that, but the hurt in her eyes when she saw the rejection coming broke me.

She shook her head and turned around. “Never mind. I knew you wouldn’t…”

I reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to me. “Go put some clothes on,” I said. “Be back out here in twenty minutes.” I sounded like an asshole again, giving orders to a girl who only wanted to hang out like a normal kid, but after years of actually being an asshole, it was a hard habit to break.

“Really?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet and smiling from ear to ear. The girl didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, there wasn’t a false thing about her and yet she was prettier than any supermodel I’d ever seen on the cover of any magazine and not to mention the absolute most amazing fucking * I’d ever had the pleasure of sticking my cock in.

I really need to start thinking about something else…

“Twenty minutes,” I repeated, coughing when my traitor of a heart actually skipped a fucking beat.

Who are you? A fucking preteen girl?