“Why not?”
She avoided his serious expression, finding Rider’s impassive face that made it easier to hide the emotional upheaval Train was trying to elicit from her.
“I’m not getting married, and I’m not raising a fatherless child.”
“I’m not ready to go down that aisle, either. But I’m not saying never, and they wouldn’t be fatherless if they were mine.”
“Don’t know how you’ll be making them with those M&Ms.” She turned back to look at him. It was easier to do so when she insulted him.
“That was a low blow. It’s a good thing I remember how much you liked them when you gave me that blowjob last night.”
“I was faking it.”
“You do that a lot, don’t you?” He wasn’t getting upset. He was methodically wearing her down, something Hammer had warned would happen with more skilled adversaries. “So, if it wasn’t the mention of kids that upset you, it was because the men chose their replacements?”
“It’s fucked up.”
“Why? The men want to know their women are taken care of if something happens to them.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you unless one of you shoot yourselves in the foot, or you fuck yourself to death.”
“It will happen. It already did.”
Train’s serious statement had her freezing in place.
“Gavin.”
Train gave a nod. “Yes, it was Gavin who came up with the idea when he was moving to Treepoint. He was engaged to a woman he had met in Ohio. He wanted to make sure Taylor was taken care of if something happened to him.”
“Who did he pick? Viper?”
The pain in Train’s eyes had her wanting to hug him close. Rider’s brown eyes were filled with the same pain. She made herself suck back the sympathy she felt for them at the loss of their friend.
“Me. Gavin and Viper had an argument before he left.”
“Did you enjoy her as much as he did?”
She had never been truly afraid of Train. She was now.
“I never touched Taylor, not once. I was by her side when we found out he was missing. I was also there the day she tried to OD when she finally realized he wasn’t coming back to her. I was there when she sold the house they had bought together because she didn’t want to live there, surrounded by his memories. I was there to tell her it was okay to see other men. And I was there to walk her down the aisle when she married another man who took the responsibility of caring for her.” Train stared her down. “When we pick our replacements, we don’t pick them to share their beds. We pick the one most able to care for their needs.”
“What did Rachel need?” she snapped.
“That wasn’t for Rachel; it was for Cash. He gets off on watching me tongue-fuck her.”
At his smirk, she lost her temper. She attacked, intending to maim him. He deftly evaded her attempts, blocking her in a flurry of movement she could barely keep up with. Frustrated, she raised her knee to remove his opportunity of ever becoming a father.
“That’s so fucked up! I hate you! I fucking hate you!”
Train blocked her knee jab, trapping her knee between his thighs. “You think that sounds fucked up? I think you trying to save Sasha was fucked up. You could have just talked to Viper, but you were so worried about Sex Piston and Diamond getting in trouble that you put your life in danger.” He twisted one of her hands behind her back.
Killyama frenziedly scratched his cheek with her short nails, and Train just calmly tucked it behind her back with her other one.
She fought against him as he went to the back of her neck with his free hand, untying the bandana. She stared at the blank wall over his shoulder as he pulled it away, exposing the permanent mark that Kane had given her.
“Poor, baby.” Train traced the line at the base of her throat with his lips.
“Don’t poor baby me. I’m not one of your stupid hos. Let me go. I’m ready to leave.”
“I bet you are. You hate being vulnerable.” He took a step forward. With her leg between his, she couldn’t get her balance, so with a push to her chest, Train released her hands as she toppled onto the bed.
She stared up at the ceiling as he placed a hand beside her head.
“I told you that you’re not the only one who can get hurt.” Train took one of her hands, placing it over his heart. “You don’t have a mark on you that I caused. I have sore nuts, a bruised wrist, several bruises on my legs, and you scratched my face. If we’re counting wounds, you’re winning the war. If that’s what it takes for you to trust me, go ahead.” Train straddled her hips without weighing her down. Then he opened his arms wide. “Have at it.”
She stared stupidly up at him. “You’re letting me hit you?”
“Yes, go ahead.” Train took her hand again, putting it in the middle of his chest. “Scratch me again.” When she didn’t make an attempt to do it, he balled her hand into a fist. “Punch me. Go ahead. I know you want to.”