Page 11 of Broken Skulls (Rebel Skull MC #7)
Chapter Ten
Lizzie
Y ou would think being in the light yesterday would have acclimated me to the brightness of the sun, but no. I’m blinking away tears as I squint at the large object, a blue cow maybe, in front of me. JD pushes a pair of sunglasses over my eyes. Oh, it’s not a cow. It’s a car.
He hands me a baseball bat.
“Have at her,” he says before pulling his own shades from his head, placing them over his eyes.
I grimace at my reflection in their mirror… what a fright I am. My hair is wild and tangled around my face.
I stand in place as I watch him walk away from me. He lowers himself in an old lawn chair, then pulls a beer out of a little red cooler next to him, cracking it open. He leans back, sighing with contentment.
His gaze roams over the junkyard before resting on me. “What are you waiting for?” he asks. “Do you need some music or something to get you started? I just picked up a killer new death metal album. It came in the mail today.”
My brows pull together in confusion. “What do you want me to do?”
He waves his hand over the car in front of me. “Beat the shit out of it.”
I drop the tip of the bat to the ground, drawing a circle in the dirt. “Why?”
“It will make you feel better.”
“I doubt that.”
“You’ll never know ‘til you try.”
“It looks like a perfectly good car. I couldn’t.”
He stands, taking the bat from me. He slams the end of it into one of the rear windows. I jump when it shatters.
“There. It’s broken.” He hands the bat back to me and then returns to his rickety throne.
“Jesus Christ. Pretend it’s that bastard you killed. Beating a man is more satisfying than doing it with poison. But I guess you didn’t have much choice since he was behind bars, huh?”
My mouth falls open.
He laughs. That chipped tooth of his somehow deflating my irritation with him. I think it’s the thing I like most about his appearance.
“If you don’t like that idea, pretend it’s all the people who didn’t stand up for you.”
“It wasn’t their fault. He was a master at the game.” I halt my words abruptly, looking at him.
I drop the bat to the ground and sit down beside it, not taking my eyes off him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t ask me what I’m doing, doesn’t speak. JD just stares back at me. I feel naked in front of him.
His head tips to the side as if he can read my thoughts. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
Beautiful is laughable. So that’s what I do. I laugh at him.
“Pick up the bat, Elizabeth.”
My laughter evaporates, and a shiver runs up my spine at his order.
“Show me who you are.”
My heart is beating wildly in my chest. Hundreds of thundering hooves, ready to break free, to run, to be wild … to be me.
The tip of my toe pushes at the bat in front of me. How good would it feel to let it out? To unleash the beast and let someone see me?
The gate breaks. The pounding in my ears intensifies as my hand reaches out and snags the bat. I jump to my feet. The first hit comes with intense relief, but it’s brief and followed by a rage that summons a sound from somewhere deep inside my body that can surely be heard across the heavens.
Blood runs down my arms from flying glass, but JD doesn’t stop me, and I don’t stop myself. Not because my mind isn’t screaming at me to end this. My body has taken over at a cellular level. It’s had enough of this shit. It’s like vomiting pure violence into the world.
And then suddenly my legs give out, and a great sadness washes over me. Grief pours from me for all that I lost, all that I could have been. I fall back, staring at blurry stars against the inky night sky. How long have we been out here?
When my breathing evens out, JD’s face appears over me. “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers before scooping me up and carrying me inside.
He doesn’t take me back to my dark room. Instead, he sets me on my feet in front of a long oval mirror. I turn my face away, glancing around the room we’re in. It’s filled with plants.
He reaches around me, grabbing my chin and forcing my gaze back to the woman in the mirror. “Tell me what you see,” he says when our eyes lock in the reflection of the glass.
My eyes fall over the despicable woman in front of me. “I’m dirty and bloody,” I whisper.
“All true.”
“That’s not beautiful,” I sigh, dropping my eyes to my dusty shoes.
“Dirty and bloody. Brave and bold. Broken and beautiful. A Phoenix rising from the ash,” he says quietly, gathering my wild ratted hair in his fist.
I take another look at myself as he holds my hair in his hand. His eyes meet mine briefly before he dips his head. His warm lips brush over the back of my neck.
“You smell divine. A mix of blood, fear, anger, adrenaline.”
A low growl vibrates from his chest and makes me shiver against him. His fingers wrap over my throat as his mouth moves to the side of my neck. His teeth nip gently at my skin. My inner thoughts begin to argue.
“ I don’t want to feel good.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Stop him.”
“I’ll kill you if you stop him.”
“Stop,” I whisper.
“You bitch!”
Instantly, JD steps away from me.
“I want to go back to the dark.”
He turns me around to face him. “Okay. I’ll take you back, but you should shower first and then I need to look at your wounds.”
The minute he reminds me of them, a burning sting rushes over my arms. Blood is smeared across my skin, and nausea suddenly rushes over me. I need it off. Now!
I try to hide my panic as JD pushes me toward the bathroom. “Go on, get started. I’ll grab you some clean clothes.” He turns the water on for me and then walks out, closing the door behind him.
The minute it latches shut, I strip out of my clothing and hurry to get in. I hold my hand over my mouth, gagging.
I force my memories to the corner of my mind and step under the water. As soon as it hits the raw skin on my arm, I let out a little hiss. This is going to sound weird to say, but it grounds me in some way, bringing me back to the present.
Each time he pulls me from that dark room, I come out feeling everything so intensely. It’s euphoric in a way, but it’s also overwhelming.
JD knocks before coming back in. “I’ll just leave these on the counter,” he says from the other side of the curtain.
He doesn’t wait for me to respond; he’s gone in an instant.
I’m so confused. One minute he’s kissing the side of my neck. His gaze full of hunger, his grip intense with possession, and then I said stop … and he stopped. No argument. No switching tactic. Or at least it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to manipulate me into getting something more.
Who is this man?
When the water runs cold, I reluctantly step out.
The clothes on the counter aren’t mine. It’s a man’s t-shirt and a pair of sweats.
It feels weird, intimate even, to be putting on his clothes.
He apologizes the minute I step out. “Sorry, all of your clothes are dirty. I’ve been slacking in the domestic department for the past few days. I’ll get on the laundry tomorrow.”
His smile makes me relax. I really thought he was going to be mad or offended because I stopped his advances earlier.
JD pats the spot next to him on the couch. A first aid kit lies open on the coffee table in front of him.
After I lower myself beside him, he takes my arm, resting it over his knee. He’s so careful with me. His hands are warm, calloused, but kind.
JD is kind.
“Stop him.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
JD pauses what he’s doing. He tips my chin with his knuckle, forcing me to look at him. “This part is non-negotiable.”
I pull my face away, again feeling naked in front of him. I don’t like that he can read me so clearly. It’s like he can hear my thoughts.
He shakes his head and goes back to bandaging my arms. When he’s finished, he pulls a joint from his pocket, lighting it. He hands it to me. “Nature’s balm for the soul,” he says, struggling to hold his hit in.
I bring it to my mouth and inhale as I watch him slowly blow smoke rings over his head.
“So, who’s Mr. Baxter?” he asks suddenly.
My eyes widen as smoke rushes from my lungs, making me cough.
JD pats my back, taking the joint from my fingers.
“Whoever he is, he better hope he’s dead. Because if he’s not, he’s going to wish he was.”