Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four

by Myers, Shannon

  I’d save my rage for the gangbanger, taking my time to make his death as slow and painful as possible. By the time I sent him to the Reaper, I doubted there’d be much left of him.

  Her nostrils flared. “I was doing just fine before you barged in—”

  “You weren’t,” I stated flatly. I nodded to Crossbones, and he released the gangbanger to me. He immediately cradled his left arm, so that was the one I latched onto as I dragged him back over to her. “What possessed you to come here?”

  “Why do you think she was here, hijo de puta?” he spat. “She needed another taste; another reminder that she’s nothing but a toy to be used and broken. A hole—”

  This time it was Comedian who stepped forward and drove a fist into the guy’s gut, silencing him. He went to his knees with a loud exhale. I took advantage of the position and caught his left arm on the way down, forcing it over my thigh until I felt the bones give beneath my hands and heard the snap.

  Bear raised an eyebrow in question as the gangbanger collapsed near my boots with a moan. Initially, we’d agreed to be in and out, saving the torture for when we were back at the clubhouse. That was before I knew she was here, though.

  Ignoring his pointed stare, I knelt over the gangbanger with a grin. “You see what I did there, Celia? You hyperextended his arm. I broke it.”

  His eyes rolled back in his head as I forced his jaw up, exposing his mangled neck. Feeling generous, I decided to let him sleep it off for a few minutes. With days, maybe even weeks, of torture in store, he needed to keep his strength up.

  “Pres?” Comedian interrupted, but I continued.

  “Looks like you tried to slit his throat, but you didn’t get the blade deep enough. You were using the wrong knife—”

  “Pres?”

  “Now, it’s obvious you came here to kill him, but he’s still breathing. So, you tell me where you had it all under control—”

  “Grey!” Comedian snapped, and I jerked my head up.

  Celia had backed herself into a corner near the bed, wincing as she examined her fist. She cradled it in her arm, panting like she had when she was in labor with the girls. It was her eyes though that stopped me in my tracks; staring through me to an enemy no one else could see.

  I’d taken it too far.

  “Get him out of here,” I demanded. “Get everybody out of here!”

  Bear hauled the prick to his feet, digging his fingers into the skin of his broken arm until he was wide awake and screaming.

  I waited until they were gone before approaching her. “Celia, princess, can you hear me?”

  She responded with a deep breath and a jerky nod. “It’s just my hand—”

  “Is it broken?” I held my palm out, and she reluctantly placed it in mine. As I ran my thumb lightly across the raw knuckles, her nipples tightened beneath the sheer lace. And my cock, which had been hard since laying eyes on her, strained against my zipper, begging for release.

  God, I wanted to fuck her.

  I tried to discreetly adjust myself before checking her over, but she caught it, and her tongue darted out to lick along her lower lip. It only succeeded in making me harder.

  “You’re uh, you’re gonna be sore…” My voice trailed off as her nipples peeked through the sheer lace, and I fought to get myself back on track. “But, it doesn’t… it doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.”

  Celia’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly, and I worried that she was slipping away again. She’d obviously developed some strong coping skills, but maybe being alone in a room with me was bringing back bad memories.

  With a slow smile and slight tremble, she brought her palm up to rest in the center of my chest. I held my breath as the other one moved up to cup my jaw. Her touch was electric, sending a jolt straight to my cock.

  She slipped her hand beneath my kutte and fisted the t-shirt, all while watching me with those wide green eyes. As much as I wanted to lose myself in her body, I held back, letting her navigate.

  “Jamie,” she whispered, and I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and let my hand trail through the dark curls on her head.

  Her breath rasped out as a flush worked its way up her chest and, just like a book of matches near a can of gasoline, she moved up against me and ignited a spark.

  Our mouths collided roughly, reopening both of our wounds. I sucked the iron from her lips; a man starved for the taste of her. Fingernails dug into my chest as her hands moved almost frantically over my muscles, gripping me like a lifeline.

  I fought to take a breath, knowing it was too much, too soon.

  I needed to pull away, but at her soft exhale, I palmed her ass and dragged her up into my arms. Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist, her thighs holding me in place while she rocked against me.

  My mind shut off as I walked us over to the floating vanity near the A/C unit and set her down on top of the worn laminate counter. The antique mirror above it had gone cloudy, giving the appearance that we were surrounded by fog.

  With a soft moan, she slipped her tongue between my lips, and I forgot why kissing her was a bad idea. I forgot why I’d fought against it for so long. That first time her lips connected with mine, I’d been a goner.

  I blinked against the sting of tears as I was taken back to that afternoon in my office at Inked on Broadway.

  When shit went south, I couldn’t even look at that couch without being reminded of everything I’d given up for the club.

  My hands slipped beneath the waistband of her lace panties and roamed over her ass as she pulled my lower lip between her teeth.

  Goosebumps spread over her skin when my fingers brushed across a rough patch of skin near her hip, and it was like flipping a switch. One minute she was grinding against me, and the next, she was struggling to get as far away as possible.

  She scrambled down off the counter and toward the wall, pushing both palms out. “Wait!”

  I nodded with a rough exhale and took a step back, waiting for her to make the next move. It was vital for her to feel like she was in control. I knew that, but it was damn near impossible to keep my hands to myself.

  “I’m… I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.” Celia studied her reflection in the mirror for several seconds. “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you apologizin’ for? You don’t owe me a fuckin’ thing, princess. I’m sorry.”

  I’d keep apologizing for that night until the breath left my body, even knowing that it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.

  She gave me a shaky nod before turning back to the discolored glass in front of her. “I just…” she sighed. “I just feel strange.”

  “Strange?” I asked carefully, moving behind her until I was close enough that my cock brushed up against her, but not enough to leave her feeling trapped. Keeping my eyes on her reflection, I pressed my lips to the side of her neck before whispering, “How?”

  Her teeth sank down onto her lower lip with a muffled groan as she turned to face me. “I…I’m incredibly turned on right now. It’s like hitting Manny gave me this high. That’s weird, right?”

  I shook my head.

  It would’ve been weird, to anyone else but me.

  The realization that I might’ve turned her into something like myself left me feeling sick.

  “Why’d you come here?” she whispered. The lost expression on her face turned into one of anguish, and I wanted to drop to my knees at her feet; to beg for forgiveness, for answers… for anything that could fix the two of us.

  “I came for you.”

  She gave me a shaky nod and reached between us, working the panties down to her thighs. “Maybe you came for this.” Her movements were the same as before, and I wondered if I hadn’t known the truth, would I have seen the terror reflected in her eyes?

  Or would I have missed it, just like I had everything else?

  Her panties were soaked, and it took every ounce of strength I still possessed to pull away. “Princess, I ain’t fuckin’ you in
a shitty motel room.”

  “I never imagined there’d be a day you’d turn down sex,” she said with a shaky laugh. “I must be losing my touch.” Her knees buckled, and she stumbled, turning to catch herself on the counter.

  I didn’t laugh; didn’t even crack a smile. My eyes were glued to the circular mark on her hip. It wasn’t flat like a scar but raised up. The pattern seemed strange until my brain reversed it, and I realized what it was I was seeing.

  A lucky thirteen encased within a diamond.

  As if raping and beating her hadn’t been enough, the motherfuckers had branded her.

  “Jamie?”

  I stroked her skin with the pad of my thumb. “He do this to you?”

  Celia bit down on the corner of her lip, looking like she was seconds away from crying. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but when she turned back and wrapped her arms around my waist, I knew that wasn’t it.

  She buried her face in my chest, and I did the one thing I knew how to when it came to her. In front of a grimy mirror, we held each other; the feel of her body up against mine only reinforced my decision to kill anyone who’d played a role in what happened that night. I held onto her like she was my salvation.

  And she had been.

  Even if she didn’t know it yet.

  “I want to be the one to kill him,” she said softly, and I could’ve sworn I’d heard her wrong.

  “Celia—”

  She stepped out of my embrace with a shake of her head, and I realized that she hadn’t been close to tears. Even as her nostrils flared, her cold eyes remained dry. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, Jamie.”

  “Princess, I ain’t lettin’ him spend one more second near you—”

  She jabbed a finger into my chest. “That’s not your call to make.”

  “Ain’t askin’ for your permission,” I snapped. “He laid hands on you. Now, he’s gonna deal with me. That’s the way it goes. Did you drive down here?”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Celia stared up at me through narrowed eyes. “Like you don’t already know.”

  I cocked my head to the side and pinched my lip. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? You think if I knew a goddamn thing about you bein’ here that it would’ve gotten as far as it did?”

  Had I known she had plans to become an assassin, I would’ve intercepted her before she ever made it to his room. Fuck, I would’ve stopped her before she ever left the house. My world and her world were never meant to mix.

  Celia’s hand moved up to her hip. “Right.” Her lips curled up into a cruel smirk. “I’m supposed to believe that Molly didn’t call you, and you just magically knew to show up here? She and I had an agreement. One hour.”

  “Molly?”

  Oh, Bear was going to have a field day with that one. I doubted Molly would be able to sit for a week.

  My neck cracked as I looked up at the water-stained popcorn ceiling before shaking my head. “Molly knew about this? You recruited Molly for this plan? This ain’t a game, Celia! You go up against these guys and they will kill you!”

  “And what about you?” She moved closer, standing toe to toe with me. “Do you think you’re immune?”

  I knew I wasn’t, but if anyone deserved to be on the front line, it was me. I swallowed and stared down at her feet; my mouth suddenly dry. “I fucked up, and you got hurt. I couldn’t live with myself if it happened again. Why can’t you let me handle this?”

  “Because I can’t!”

  Celia was the only one who pushed me, the only one who dared to stand up to me and fight for control. When she didn’t elaborate, I threaded a hand through her hair, lightly tugging her up against me. She lowered her eyes to the floor, forcing me to tighten my hold until her chin lifted.

  She watched warily as I brought my other hand up to rest at the base of her neck, her throat bobbing up and down in a nervous swallow. “Let me go.”

  My girl was bold, I’d give her that, but she knew nothing about the underworld I called home. The path I’d been on since I was sixteen led only one place, and I wasn’t willing to drag her down with me, even if she was my greatest weakness.

  I nodded. “I will. Just as soon as you let go of this idea that you can take these guys on your own—”

  Her lips curled up as she bared her teeth and snarled, “You’re just stupid enough to get yourself killed, aren’t you? What makes you think you can stop them? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have even known where Manny was!”

  “If it weren’t for you?” I chuckled, having moved past anger and into amusement. “That’s fuckin’ cute. Wrong, but cute.”

  I’d tried patience and gentleness, but her goddamn stubbornness pushed me beyond rational thought and ignited my temper. I was hanging on by a thread, and I knew that if it snapped, she’d never recover. The monster would devour her whole.

  She sucked in a breath, her eyes brimming with homicidal rage as she dragged her claws down my face. “They want you dead! Don’t you know that?”

  I released her hair and grabbed her wrists, stopping the assault. “And why the fuck do you care? I chose this life, princess!”

  With a deep breath, she dropped her hands and backed away. Any relief I may have felt was gone the minute she opened her mouth.

  “You may have chosen this life, but I was forced into it, and I’m not willing to sit at home. You want me to believe that you’ve got it all under control, but you don’t. You’re still running into situations without thinking them through.”

  She was starting to sound like Wolverine. Instead of listening, I studied my wounds in the mirror. The red streaks started just below my eyes and disappeared into my beard.

  She’d done worse.

  Didn’t mean she wasn’t gonna pay for it. I’d let her push me past the point of sanity. Fuck niceties. Now, I wanted to fight.

  “Explain to me how tracking a gangbanger’s movements is considered ‘running,’ Celia. Way I see it, me showin’ up here saved your ass—”

  Her chin raised defiantly, and I almost became convinced that she didn’t need to be handled carefully. What she needed was to be taken over my lap before I fucked the opposition out of her.

  “They were baiting you, Grey. And if they were bold enough to do that, then they must think they’ve got the numbers to take you.”

  “Baiting me how?” I ignored her use of my club name, focusing instead on the idea that the men who hurt her would be stupid enough to try to again.

  The green eyes that had been narrowed at me in anger, now widened in surprise, as if realizing she’d revealed more than she wanted.

  “Celia,” I tried again. “Baiting me how?”

  Her arms went around her torso, holding herself together before she quietly admitted, “He—Manny, showed up at Dakota’s school a few weeks ago. He gave her a photograph of Kate. They were going to use her as bait to get to you. I wasn’t going to let it happen.”

  Saliva flooded my mouth, and I clenched my hands into fists, relishing in the sound of my knuckles cracking under the pressure. “How?”

  Her eyes flashed with something, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. “There was a message on the back of the picture—”

  “Do you have it?” She shook her head, and I pushed, “Where is it? What’d it say? Goddammit, Celia! Just fuckin’ tell me!”

  I’d take Manny to the brink of death and then bring him back. Maybe I’d do it over and over again.

  “I wonder if she’ll cry when I break her in…”

  My nostrils flared, and she watched in silence as I began pacing the room. “Motherfucker!” I growled. “I’m gonna rip his dick off and force it down his throat. Then, I’ll move onto his hands—one digit at a time.”

  “It should be me—”

  “Absofuckinglutely not,” I bit out. “Ain’t lettin’ him breathe the same air as you ever again. Call Molly, tell her you need to be picked up.” I crossed my arms over my chest, signaling the end of our discussion.


  Her mouth fell open. “Don’t you treat me like a little girl! It’s too late. I’ve seen your world, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget it.”

  Lust flooded my veins as I thought of all the ways I could prolong death, keeping the gangbanger alive for as long as I saw fit. It didn’t matter which god he prayed to, by the time I was done with him, he’d be begging for my forgiveness… for my mercy.

  “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you don’t make the rules, darlin’. You’re lucky I’ve got work to do, or I’d be takin’ a hand to your ass and haulin’ you out of here myself. What do you say to that?”

  “What do I say?” she spluttered. “Go to hell, Grey! That’s what I say to that! You can’t just lock me away like I’m helpless!”

  I absolutely could and would if it came to it. No one would ever touch her or my girls again. She began working her panties back up over her hips, but not before I saw the wetness clinging to the inside of her thighs.

  My girl still wanted me.

  The real me.

  That was all I needed to know. The rest was just details.

  Chapter Twelve

  Grey: 2005

  I stepped into the dark room with a wide grin. “You know what today is, amigo?”

  Manny watched me with bulging eyes from the wall he was propped up against, arms tied up behind his back. A rope ran from his bound wrists and up over a metal beam near the ceiling, keeping him tethered like a leash. It must’ve been a bitch trying to find a comfortable position. If I had to guess, I’d say he wasn’t getting much rest.

  “C’mon,” I prodded. “Don’t get shy on me now. No guesses? Fine, I’ll tell you. It’s the first day of spring! You believe that shit? Time flies when you’re having’ fun though, right? How long have we been doin’ this now—three months?”

  When he stayed silent, I kicked him with the toe of my boot before tugging the rope, hoisting his body up into the air. His arms hung suspended behind his back, transferring all of his weight to his shoulder sockets. He groaned and expelled a stream of snot from his nose before fighting to take a breath.