Page 15 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

Creep

My body boils with fury.

If I could put myself in the way of that offending hand, I would have, but I was too late. If Angel wants to be angry with me over following him again, then so be it, but I won’t let this bastard threaten him, or order him around, because my boy deserves so much better.

He deserves everything.

Respect. Care. Tenderness, and all the other things I’ve been denying myself.

I don’t know what put so many lowlifes in his path, or what made him choose them, but I won’t let this continue.

Scalding heat passes through my body when his blue gaze meets my eyes, but it only lasts a second, and then he’s standing straighter and faces the stranger who’s come here to rob and accost him.

“I’d rather sit on a dildo, Johnny. A much more pleasurable experience than fucking you ever was.”

The man in front of him stiffens, then steps toward Angel. “You’re gonna regret t—”

I move fast, in case Johnny has the misguided idea of hitting Angel again. I pull out my switchblade and press it against his jugular from behind. “What did you want to say?” I whisper, on edge with the need to spill this fucker’s blood.

And then I see it, the warm glow of approval in Angel’s eyes. They’re so deep and beautiful I long to shed my clothes and dive straight in, even if I’m to die trying to reach the bottom of those twin pools.

“Nothing that important,” Angel says, as Johnny shivers in my deadly embrace. “He never had anything notable to say. Only lots of bullshit about how hard his life is, and how he just wants to go back to the time before adult responsibilities, like a wife and kids.”

Normally, I’d try to find out more about this unexpected visitor, but if Angel’s not bothered about him, I won’t be either. All I care about is that he hit my boy and offended him.

Johnny sighs in relief when I pull away the blade, but he’s not off the hook yet. I grab his hair and slam him face first into the hood of the car he tried to claim.

His screech of pain is music to my ears.

“Hey, man! I didn’t mean anything by it! He can keep the car!” Johnny whines through his broken nose.

Angel blinks, raising his hand as he captures my gaze. “Enough! He… he’s a shitty person, but not that shitty.”

I guess that’s a request not to kill him

I’ll listen, but the disrespectful way he spoke to Angel makes me itch for blood.

“Are you sure?” I ask, pulling Johnny back up by the hair. I hope it hurts. “Apologize!” I demand and push him in front of Angel.

“I’m sorry, Angel!” he says quickly, not even trying to fight me.

“What are you apologizing for?” Angel asks, his big eyes shiny like polished coins as he approaches, face perfectly innocent.

Johnny sobs. “Uh… slapping you… and trying to take the car…”

“And for spitting on me that one time,” Angel corrects him, and my blood boils.

How dare this maggot touch Angel with anything but care?

I tighten my hold on him and kick the backs of his knees to force him down.

Once again, my boy is watching me with appreciation, and all I want is to serve him.

“Will you spit on him for me?” he asks.

Happy to oblige, I gather the saliva from the back of my throat and spit right on his head. Johnny has no idea how lucky he is that Angel is here to keep me in check, because I’d gladly break every bone in his body, then drive over his head with my bike for good measure.

With a sharp inhale, Angel steps forward and whacks the bastard’s cheek.

I don’t think it was a particularly firm blow, but he does shake his hand after, as if it’s aching.

There’s nothing I want more than to lick it better.

I kick Johnny over, not wanting him anywhere between us anymore.

Those blue eyes are now on me, and I can’t have anyone taking away their attention.

“Thank you,” Angel whispers as the worm at our feet crawls away.

Johnny must understand he’s better off as far away from me as possible, because as soon as he’s up, he runs.

“Are you sure you don’t want him dead?” I ask, my fingers twitching because I want to grab his hand so badly I can’t stay still.

Angel shakes his head, then swallows, watching me with his pretty lips open. He’s so perfect. I wish I was allowed to watch over him all day long.

“No. He’s a piece of shit, but nothing he did deserves death. Unless his wife kills him once she finds out he’s cheating,” Angel says with a shrug. “But that’s not my problem.”

“Are you…” I hover my hand over his pinkening cheek, desperate for permission to touch him. “Are you okay?”

His long, pale lashes flutter, and he swallows hard, leaning toward me, almost as if he were waiting for something. “I am now.”

My heart flutters, like it so often does around him. Angel’s soft cheek meets my hand and I cup it gently, running my thumb over his skin. When his eyes roll back, and he leans into the touch, a ticklish sensation spreads through my insides, as If I’ve swallowed a whole anthill.

I’ve planned the things I could say to him, but now they’re all falling apart in my head. I wanted to apologize for how I acted, for not visiting him, ask for another shot. But I just stand there like an idiot, staring at the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

I don’t deserve his attention, gratitude, or touch, but I’ll take it anyway, as long as he allows it. When he turns his face until his lips nearly kiss my skin, breathing becomes near impossible.

“Would you like to sleep under my bed tonight?” he asks, glancing at me as if he can see even the secret parts of me I never dared to show anyone.

It’s so hard to breathe I’m getting lightheaded. “There’s nothing I want more.” Does this also mean he’ll… Do we need to talk about it? I’ve never done anything like that with anyone. “Angel…” I swallow, worried my question is out of line. “Who was that man?”

I know I shouldn’t have asked the moment his baby blues dim, but he speaks nevertheless, gaze pinned to my chest. “Just someone I was seeing.”

“So you were seeing him and Adam? I’m not judging, just trying to make sense of it.” And since he’s not pulling away, I still stroke his cheek. It would be easier to let it go, learn nothing and crawl under his bed at night, but I want to know him, so I have to bear this moment of discomfort.

Angel clears his throat, peeking at me. “There’s one more. I… well, I didn’t earn enough money, and they were helping me out.”

I try to make sense of that in my head. Different thoughts and feelings churn inside me, like water, oil, and sand.

He deserves the world, and instead had to struggle dealing with fuckers the likes of Johnny and Adam?

But if I said ‘I’ll take care of you from now on’ , would I be like one of them?

Someone to appease for money? That’s not what I want.

I nervously pop my neck. “Okay. And you don’t want to see the other one anymore?” I hope the answer is negative. For the guy’s sake.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath as he reaches to my arms. “No. I suppose that means I’m single now.” A soft, brilliant laugh.

I’d like both of us to not be single very soon, but despite what Road suggested, it’s not easy to lay out one’s feelings. So I settle on, “I can’t wait to sleep under your bed.”

His breath tickles my lips and… is he leaning toward me? Ever closer—

“Angel, there was a guy driving off just now,” Prophet says, stomping toward us. We pull apart in time, but he still reaches for his gun when he spots an additional person in the garage.

“Gods, Creep, one of these days someone’s gonna shoot you by accident, and it’ll be your own fault.”

I step away, awkward about being seen touching Angel. “I was just standing still. And the guy was here to cause trouble, but I dealt with him.”

Prophet shakes his head and looks around, his eyes settling on the blood next to the dent in the car. “Are the vultures getting fed again?”

“Not this time,” Angel says and winks at me.

He winks at me.

Prophet smirks, then points to the pickup truck outside. “Okay then, what are you standing there for? Go grab a box and help with the packing. Get a move on!”

I’m never clumsy, always painfully aware of my surroundings, but this time I turn around to look at Angel so many times, I trip on a garden hose left in the grass.