Page 14 of Blade (The Dark Angel’s MC #1)

Still, after all this time, he thinks I’m lying. He believes his friend is innocent.

Good man, my ass.

I tilt my head at him and ask, “You still think I was making it up? That I would be evil enough to lie about something so serious?”

Anger shines in his eyes, and he snaps, “Brock sees you as his little sister, and yeah, I think you were lying, and I still think you were selfish. I just decided to see your side of things because of our mothers’ actions!

He’d never rape any girl, let alone you, Luna. You could have destroyed him!”

Shame I didn’t then, I wouldn’t have spent years being abused and I’d only have one burn mark on my hip because over the years, he’s managed to make a B out of them.

I nod slowly, then whisper, “I think you should leave,” not bothering to tell him his ‘friend’ who sees me as a sister, is raping me every chance he gets, that he marks my body to brand me as his, that he is adamant to claim me in the eyes of the club against my will.

He wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“Luna…” Taylor sighs, but I point to the door, and he shakes his head and mumbles, “One of these days, you’re going to lose everyone around you because of the lies you continue to stick with.”

He turns and leaves without another word, and my tears fall as the door shuts.

I mutter, “Wrong, big brother. I lost everyone the day you all called me a liar and basically gave your best friend the go-ahead to ruin my life.”

I stand still for a few minutes, my tears falling, my heart breaking, and I don't know how to function.

How can he stand there and not question why I haven’t taken back what I accused Brock of?

How can he not see the pain I’m in every day?

How could he not realize that I had tried to stay away from the club after the first time it happened?

I wipe my tears away with frustration, refusing to cry over this again before grabbing my bag and phone.

I need to get to the library before it closes for lunch, and more importantly, I need to leave and get back into the safety of this building where cameras line every inch inside before Brock finishes with the prospects.

I sigh as I walk back from the library, the four books weighing down my bag, and I mumble, “I should have driven….”

I’m trying to save money on gas, especially now that I’ve had to fork out cash for parking.

I came up with a plan on my way to the library. I need to leave, not just for a vacation but for good. I have some savings but not a lot, so rationing my food and gas will have to do.

My family, the club, Brock, they all need to be in my past, and I can’t try and move on if I’m here and I know without a doubt, if I killed Brock, my brother would kill me, and even though the thoughts of ending it all hits me every day, Blade’s eyes come back to me and make me want to fight.

After two weeks of sleeping with him, I need him to breathe. I know what I said to Axe, we’d walk away at the end of the month. I just don’t know if I can, but leaving means I have to walk away.

Blade was right to insinuate feelings and sex because I’m catching them and no, I didn’t think I would, heck, I didn’t even think I’d orgasm and every time he ensures I do before he does.

Not once have I ever gotten wet for a man before, yet I did for him. God, even now, I can feel my clit throb at the thought of Blade, and I’m even beginning to wonder what it would feel like to have his mouth down there.

Shaking my head of my lustful thoughts, I pick up speed as my building comes into view, but before I can take five steps, a hand grabs my arm hard, making me gasp before I’m shoved into the alleyway.

I trip at the force of the shove, falling onto my hands and knees, and I cry out in pain as little stones dig into my palms as my books scatter on the floor before a hand grips my hair tightly, and something is shoved into my mouth.

I try to dislodge it, to spit it out but it’s tied behind my head and my fear spikes.

Panic hits me hard as my jeans are unbuttoned, and Brock whispers, “You think you can let that fucker touch what is mine, huh?”

Tears fill, and breathing becomes difficult.

He’s supposed to be at the club!

“Well, I’ll fucking show you!” he promises and shoves my jeans and panties down before two fingers rub over my entrance, and he chuckles, “You’re actually wet for once.”

Mortification fills me, that is for Blade, not him, but he doesn’t care because one moment I’m trying to fight to get away, clawing at his hand in my hair, and then the next, he’s thrusting inside me hard without protection, and bile builds.

Brock uses my body without a care in the world, and I scream in terror and pain over the gag and thrash against him as something hot hits my left hip and I know he’s marking me again, his words confirming it as he grunts, “This is my body, fucking mine and only mine, and I’ll kill that fucker if he touches you again! ”

I stop my fight at his words and can feel myself shut down at the thought of Blade being hurt because of me.

I won’t put Blade in danger, and honestly, after two weeks of managing to keep this from happening, of having Blade, I know I can’t let him touch me again. I can’t allow this filth to transfer onto him.

I can’t allow this pig to create a war between the clubs.

Brock moans and groans, not caring that I’ve gone dry while pain filters inside me, my walls protesting against his dick, and the feeling of wanting to die hits me hard again as I realize I’m never going to get rid of him.