Page 27

“ Y ou good, brother?” Ruckus taps me on the shoulder once Millie has left.

“I am now.” I knock back a shot of vodka from the bar and breathe myself calm.

It’s hard not to keep picturing that scrawny prick with his lips on her.

Lips that I was kissing myself not that long ago.

Despite what I told Millie, I can’t seem to regret it, and the idea of my mouth not being the last one on them makes me wanna get on my bike, follow after her, and kiss the breath outta her body all over again.

“You see the way Vike chased after Alicia?” Rocco interrupts, coming in from outside. “And did I hear someone say you nearly drowned a kid?” He sits himself on the barstool beside me and laughs.

“Shut the fuck up.” I shove my palm into his chest, making him tumble off and fall on his ass. Ruck tries not to laugh as Rocco quickly recovers, standing up, dusting himself off, and looking around to check who saw.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor before he moves on to piss off someone else.

“You know, Freya talks a lot about Millie; the girls really like her. They’re worried about her.” Ruck leans forward on the bar, raising his eyebrows at Krystal to remind her we’re empty.

“What the fuck has that got to do with me?” I stare at him blankly.

“I never said it did, I was just stating a point. The girl clearly likes hanging out here. I don’t get what your problem is with her.” He shrugs.

“The problem is she’s–”

I stop myself before I give away too much.

“She’s just not like us. Her father's running for senator, for Christ's sake. She can hang anywhere in L.A., why the hell would she wanna hang here?” I shake my head and look around the room. Sinner’s balls deep in one of the waitresses who works with Millie.

The club sluts are walking around with trays of shots, wearing nothing but a thong.

This just ain’t the place for a girl like Millie Dawson.

“Don’t you get it? She wants to be close to you. I mean, you're the only thing she’s got left of Corey, maybe she’s clinging on to that.” He shrugs.

“Yeah, well, she’s gonna have to learn to let it go. I don’t want her here, Ruck.” I make sure he sees how serious I am.

I’m about to order another drink when the expression on Ruckus’s face suddenly changes, and pulling back his shoulders, he stands up a little taller.

“Well, well, well.” He looks to the door, and when I turn my head and see Greaser standing in its frame, the huge bag he dumps from his shoulder onto the floor suggests this ain’t just a passing visit.

“Now, that ain’t much of a welcome home, is it?” He laughs at everyone who's staring at him and marches over to the bar. His huge hand slams hard into Ruckus’s back.

“What ya doing here, Grease?” Wrath abandons Eden and makes his way over. Not looking impressed to see him.

“What the hell d’ya think I’m doing? Tryin’ to get a drink. Where the fuck is Pol?” He scans the room looking for her as if nothing’s happened.

“I thought you were riding nomad, now?” Ruckus looks confused.

“What can I say? I missed all you mother fuckers.” Greaser sniggers.

“I really think you need to talk to Raze,” Wrath warns him.

Last time we saw Greaser, things were hostile between the two of ’em.

He left because he didn’t like the direction Raze was taking us in, and I don’t know what this attitude he brought here with him is, but I don’t think Prez is gonna like it.

“So you're here to stay?” Ruckus checks and when the door opens back up, and Vike walks back inside with Alicia, I watch his skin turn pale when he sees our new visitor.

“Oh, yeah, I’m here to stay,” Greaser assures us, smiling to himself as his eyes fix on Alicia and he knocks back his beer.

I leave the club just after midnight, heading home to my empty house and stepping straight to the refrigerator to grab myself a beer.

The peach cobbler Jean from next door made is still in there waiting to be eaten.

I always thought she left her little parcels on the doorstep for Corey’s benefit; that she felt sorry for him being raised by the likes of me.

It seems she’s taken pity on me, too, now.

She even had her son mow my front lawn the other day, though I’m not sure if that was out of kindness or just because my lack of fucks was making the street look untidy.

I decide to leave the cobbler where it is. I don’t seem to have much of an appetite lately, not for anything other than finding Quinnell and ripping out his spine.

I’m convinced that Burlusconi knows more than what he’s telling us about that bastard, and I’m determined to find out what that thing is.

So far, there has been no consequence for the hundreds of weapons we took from his shipyard, but I can’t see Quinnell letting that go.

He’s playing us at our own game. Biding his time, keeping low, and no doubt… watching.

I pop the cap on my beer and take a seat in the armchair, not bothering to put on the TV.

Now I’m alone with no one to judge me but myself, I’ve got something much better I can look at.

I take my phone outta my pocket and scroll to the pictures I sent myself from Corey’s phone.

Before I gave it to Millie, I made sure I had all the memories I wanted from it.

I also couldn't resist stealing a few of my brother’s, sending myself some pictures he’d taken of her.

I had no idea that Corey had such a talent for photography, or maybe it’s just the subject that makes each image look so striking.

It’s obvious how much he loved her. He’d captured her in every single way: dressed up for prom, looking tired in her uniform after a shift, and sleeping with her hair all messed up on his bed.

My cock goes hard every time I fuckin’ look at them, and I have no idea why I torture myself the way I do by keeping them on here.

Placing down my beer, I give in to temptation and unbuckle my belt, taking my cock in my fist and pulling it through my palm.

I think about those lips again, how soft and gentle they were, and how fuckin’ right they felt against mine.

How could they have, when all this is so fuckin’ wrong?

I bite my lip hard when I remember how I kissed her back.

I let all the tension in me release, and for those few short seconds, I let myself believe that she could be mine.

Knowing the girl wants me to do it all over again makes holding back seem impossible.

Does she not understand what I’m trying to protect her from?

Doesn’t she see the wrong in this, the way I do?

I need to get a better grip of myself, and not the kinda grip that I got on myself right now. Because it’s sick.

I speed up my hand when I close my eyes and picture her in what she was wearing tonight.

Her skirt was far too short, her top left nothing to the imagination.

Millie Dawson came to the club tonight looking for attention, and she got all of mine.

I have to stop letting her have that kinda power over me.

This last month that she’s stayed away hasn’t been easy, even though it’s what I told her to do.

I’ve hated it. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve ridden past the diner.

There have even been days when I’ve thought about going inside.

All this is such a betrayal of Corey, yet I can’t stop flicking through his photos of her on my phone.

I pause when I get to my favorite one of her sitting on my bike out front, sticking out her tongue and posing all seductively.

I have no idea how she manages to look so adorable at the same time.

No doubt, Corey would have dared her to do it; he knew damn well how angry I get about people touching my bike.

But lookin’ at this picture now, makes me realize how much I want her on it.

I want her on my saddle, I want her on my mouth again.

In my hands. In my life. I want her fuckin’ everywhere. I just can’t fuckin’ have her.