“No, you won't, but you're not gonna let it fuck up the rest of your life. I won't let you, babe.” I grabbed her face, traced her jawline, pressed my fingers in 'til I stopped and felt her tremble. “This is the kiss that sets you free. Nothing more. Now, strap on your helmet and hold me tight. You're going home.”
I could hear the strain on her voice when we roared through Knoxville and hit the streets leading to the prime acreage tucked just outside the city's good side. She gave me directions, and I took them like a man, hating every fucking word coming outta her mouth because they were leading us closer to the end.
The real end. Everything she feared, and everything I'd fought too damned hard not to acknowledge.
The street lights were on by the time we hit the country and rode by the big houses. She leaned into me, resting her soft face on my shoulder, whispering the last few digits to look for in my ear.
I saw them coming up on a big stone wall, glittering in gold, markers to my private hell. My bike jerked to a stop, later than I wanted because it was so fucking hard to let her go.
“You got a way to tell them to open up, or what?”
She gave me one last squeeze and hopped off my bike, shooting me a look like I'd just talked nonsense. I knew I had a second later, when I saw the intercom built into the wall, next to those high iron bars. The gate was too tall, too sleek, too pointy for any man to climb over – not unless he was really determined.
My mind started working, figuring out how the fuck to get through. Just in case I needed to, of course. I wasn't planning anything.
Yeah, right, I heard inwardly, the passionate side of my brain about to snap the leash held by cold logic.
“Helmet, babe!” I called after her, just as she grabbed her stuff and trotted quickly toward the gate.
She spun around and flushed. The redness on her cheeks did terrible things to the spike between my legs. Fucking great. It was all I needed to see when I was doing my damnedest not to think about how much I'd miss her sweet cunt clenched every inch of me when she lost control.
“Sorry,” she said softly, passing me the spare black helmet. “Seriously, Skin, I know this is hard, but I appreciate everything you've done for me. You'll get your money. I'll call you the second I've got it ready to go.”
“You do that.” I reached for her hand, squeezing it tight, one last time I couldn't resist. “Get your shit together, Meg, whatever it takes. You've got a second chance, and I wanna see you in the papers in a few years, knocking the absolute piss outta anything you choose to take on. Ricky's rotting where he can never hurt you, and I'll make sure my boys deal with the Deads. You're free. This last little payment's just an afterthought.”
She forced a smile. We both knew damned well the money was very important, but I wasn't gonna ruin the moment, even if I had to tell her a few white lies.
She knew the truth. And I had a feeling she saw it in my eyes, everything I tried to bury, wishing it would go into the deep, dark earth as easily as the pimp's broken bones.
“I wouldn't be here without you, Skin. Thank you, so much, from the bottom of my heart.”
I let her throw her little arms around my neck and give me one last hug. When I was done enjoying her tits pressed close to my face one more time, I gave her a gentle push, putting on my angry rebel mask again.
Wetness spattered my ear. At first, I thought she was turning on the waterworks again, but the thunder and darkness rolling in overhead said different. Thank God for small miracles, giving me the perfect excuse to wind this up clean.
“Go on and get the hell inside. Last thing I need is you catching cold.”
The last smile she flashed me was all real. I watched her run to the intercom and hold the button down, muttering a few words, soft and uneasy.
I had my bike primed by the time the gate slid open, and two dark figures showed up on the distant doorstep to the big house, between the Greek columns. The taller silhouette took off, running toward her as she went through the opening, as fast as his legs would carry him.
That was my signal to take off into the night, and I did.
I rode the storm hard, moisture coalescing along the stubble on my face. Taking the mountain curves like a demon outside Knoxville, I smiled when the wind picked up. I opened my mouth and howled like a fucking demon, just as lightning cut the sky.
I'd find a way to survive this chick, even if it killed me. I had to. No woman changed me or twisted me up in knots, much less this dove from a world I'd never understand, the world where she belonged.
When I took this patch, I swore nobody would ever fuck me over, much less myself.
If blackening my heart was the price of giving Meg a second chance, then I'd do it. I'd make myself so hard and cold that even Joker would look at me like I'd gut his ass over a dirty look.
VII: Home Sweet Home (Megan)
“Megan?! It's really you, isn't it? Oh, God!”