by R. E. Bond
I scowled, yanking my shoes on as I tried to refrain from stabbing him.
Mr fucking know it all didn’t know shit.
Diesel just wanted a friend, what was wrong with that?
“Is it that hard to believe they respect me? Or is it that I’m making friends and not gluing myself to you guys all the fucking time? You know what happens when people try to control me, Lukas. You can’t tell me who I can or can’t be friends with.”
He groaned as if the argument was my fault.
“Damnit, babe. I’m not trying to fight with you. I just…”
“You just said I’m acting like a fucking whore!” I suddenly exploded, clenching my fists angrily and fighting the urge to throat punch him.
I should’ve done it to make a point.
He gritted his teeth, watching me with irritation.
“I know how crews work is all I’m saying, Aurora. You’re getting too fucking close.”
“Close? I’m basically all the way in,” I shot back angrily, moving to storm past him but he grabbed my arm gently.
“What does that fucking mean?”
I felt slightly happy as I spoke, knowing it would piss him off.
“It means they want me in. All the way in.”
“Skeet knows about this?” He snapped back at me, but I just glared at him, not understanding why he even started the stupid argument to begin with.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong by hanging out with Diesel.
“He knows, but he’s a little pissy about it,” I replied curtly, yanking back from him and walking downstairs, making sure to stomp my feet a little harder than necessary.
Yeah, I could be a petty fucking brat when I wanted to be, but fuck him.
Jensen watched me with concern when I stormed in, Lukas behind me as he continued to argue with me.
“You can’t be all the way in! You’re a woman for starters, but you’ll get yourself fucking killed! Is that why Slash is up your ass lately? He’s been sucking you into this bullshit?”
“Back off, Lukas,” I warned, but he kept going like I knew he would.
“Fuck no. You think Skeet’s going to just welcome you into the crew with open arms? You know he hates you being around it with one foot in the door, let alone two. Ever since you offed Liam, you’ve started losing your mind, Rory. Do you understand what happened? You actually fucking murdered someone for Slash. The same guy who beat you in front of Skeet who couldn’t do shit about it. Slash is going to get you killed or thrown in jail, and for what? Some free coke? Or is he giving you something better than coke, huh?” He growled, the room falling silent as my face fell.
My hand cracked across his cheek hard, echoing through the house as I seethed at him, moving back to stop myself from giving him another one.
“Fuck you, Lukas.”
Jensen stepped between us, lifting his hand to run his thumb over Lukas’s reddened cheek, making me snort.
“Fuck you too, Jense. He fucking deserved that.”
Lukas glared at me, hurt and anger in his eyes.
“Do you not see how fucked up in the head you’ve gotten? You just hit me over nothing.”
Oh, hell no.
“Nothing? You called me a whore for no reason, all because you can’t control me!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air with frustration.
“You don’t belong in a crew. Are you stupid? You’re going to get killed! Stop being a crazy bitch and just take the advice for once in your life!” He suddenly yelled back at me, his words fuelling the fire inside me.
He did well not to startle as I grabbed him and shoved him back into the wall, but I saw the fear as it flickered in his eyes when I pulled my knife out and held it against his throat.
I tried hard to keep my shit together, but he’d overstepped big time.
“You think I’m a whore? Someone you can control whenever you please? News flash, Lukas, you can’t control shit. You don’t trust me to make the right choices around Slash or his crew? Fine. You and I are fucking done.”
He sneered at me as Jensen tugged me back gently before I could actually cut him, but I shook free from his hold and gave him a scowl.
“I’m going, I’ll see you later.”
Jensen met my gaze with a sorry look on his face for appearing to side with Lukas.
“See you tonight, yeah?”
“Fucking doubt it,” I snapped, turning and leaving the house to wait by Diesel’s pickup.
He wandered out behind me almost instantly and climbed into the driver’s seat, but once we were out of the driveway, he glanced at me with uncertainty.
“You alright?”
“Don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered, lighting a cigarette and taking an angry drag.
Lukas was the least likely to ever call me a whore, so I was more rattled than I would’ve been if Caden had said it instead.
I knew Lukas wasn’t going to be happy about it all, but he didn’t have to be mean either.
“All good,” he answered with a shrug, turning his attention back to the road as he drove.
We reached the old road and I let out a frustrated breath, not being able to contain my anger any longer.
“I’m sick of being babied all the fucking time! They’re all doing it now, and it’s starting to piss me the fuck off. They wonder why I want to kill assholes in my spare time!”
He glanced at me again with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s good that you have protective boyfriends, babe. They don’t want to see you hurt.”
“No, they don’t trust me. They all thought I was screwing Slash at one point, just because he was around. Now I’m hanging around you, they seem to think I’m acting like some crew whore. Lukas’s words, actually.”
“I heard,” he mumbled, turning into the driveway and parking next to the shed.
I went to climb out but he stopped me, giving me a small smile.
“Look, you guys have apparently all gone through heaps of shit since you all became friends. They love you, so I don’t blame them for worrying. Make up your mind carefully about the crew, yeah? We only want you in if it’s what you actually want. Regardless of what you decide to do, you’re always welcome here, okay? Family and all that.”
“I know, I’m just suffocating in my own emotions. I’m caged in, and we all know what happens to an animal when they’re cornered,” I sighed before climbing out and following him into the shed.
Skeeter seemed pissed off for seeing me there again, but he watched me silently as I followed Diesel to the bar, taking the bottle of whisky as Diesel handed it me.
Slash chuckled as he walked out from the office.
“Morning, Killer. Thought you were snuggled up between your gentle lovers?”
I sneered at him, downing a few large mouthfuls of whisky before flipping him the bird.
The humour died from his face and he frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, the usual. I’m a fucking whore and all that. Morning Skeet,” I replied, making sure to point out that I knew Skeeter was fucking glaring at me.
Slash kept frowning with confusion, but Skeeter grunted.
“Morning. Why are you here? Again.”
“Do you want to cop a mouthful this morning too?” I growled, watching as he raised an eyebrow.
“Not particularly, but if you keep scowling at me like that, I’ll give you a fucking mouthful and break your jaw with my dick. Where’s Jensen and Lukas?”
“Jensen’s probably kissing Lukas’s face better.”
“What happened to his face?” He asked slowly, glancing at Diesel curiously as if he was going to spill all my secrets.
“I happened,” I spat, chugging into the bottle before lighting a cigarette and stalking into the back room, Skeeter hot on my heels.
He locked the door and turned to me, a softer look on his face than I’d seen from him in a while.
“Baby girl, talk to me. What happened?”
I sat in S
lash’s chair and put my feet up, dragging on my cigarette as I watched him for a moment before speaking.
“Lukas thinks Slash is dragging me into the crew, then started an argument about the fact I’m hanging with Diesel today. Apparently, I’m starting to look like a crew whore. So, I slapped him, held him at knife point, told him we were done, and then I left before I could actually fucking stab him.”
“Lukas said that? The soft one?” He asked with surprise, pissing me off to see amusement flicker on his face.
“Yes, so now I’m really fucking pissy.”
He smirked, moving towards me and lifting me so I could sit on his lap.
“You’re always pissy, but it’s true about the shit with Slash. He’s…”
“Fuck you too then,” I growled, pushing to my feet and heading towards the door.
I wasn’t going to put up with his shit too.
“Donovan, sit the fuck down and cut it out. You know I don’t want you any further in this shit than you already are. I’d prefer it if you took a step back to be honest,” he said sternly.
I turned and glared at him, my fists clenching.
“Has anyone thought about what I fucking want?”
His jaw clenched as he leaned back in the chair like king shit.
“You don’t even know what you want.”
“Don’t I? I’d like my boyfriends to back the fuck off for starters,” I gritted out, but he just shrugged like the cocky bastard he was.
“We don’t always get what we want, babe. You of all people know that life isn’t fair.”
“Obviously. You guys were always up for a party, dirty dancing and getting high and naked together, but all of a sudden you’re freaking out and trying to drag my ass to church to confess my sins and shit. I’m getting fucking sick of it.”
“If you hate it so much, you know where the door is. Deep down, you know you’re not happy, regardless of what people do for you. You were pissed off not all that long ago because I wouldn’t walk away from the crew, remember? Don’t act like you actually give a shit about my crew, Rory. It’s getting old real fucking fast.”
“You’re just pissed because Hunter thinks I’m fucking interesting. That’s why you’re being a jerk,” I argued, his eyes darkening as he scowled.
“Leave Hunter out of this shit.”
“Why? We talk about all my shit, so let’s talk about yours for once. I love a good, friends to enemies story.”
He shoved his chair back, angrily throwing the ash tray across the room, the glass shattering on impact.
“You don’t fucking know shit, Aurora!”
“No? Let’s see if I have it right, yeah? You and Hunter were like brothers. His brother died so he took over the Devils. Shit went down, you got shot, then he walked away and left you there. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but…”
His hand clamped around my throat as he shoved me hard into the wall, hearing the wall crack on impact.
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Make me, Skeeter. Fucking make me,” I taunted, the anger in his eyes blazing.
His grip didn’t loosen as he spoke in a low voice.
“Like I said, if you aren’t fucking happy, you know where the door is.”
“Problem is, seems like it’s my fucking door,” I managed to force out, knowing I’d taken it to far.
He slammed me into the wall again before he shoved me away from him with a glare.
“Is that right? You think because my crew wants to fuck you that you’re higher up than me? You’ve snorted too much cocaine, Aurora. You’re fucking delusional.”
“Your crew likes me around because I don’t put up with shit and they know I’d have their back if shit went down!” I shouted, a grunt coming from him.
“Who fucking told you that? Slash?”
“No. Diesel did.”
“You fucking him now?” He sneered, shoving me back as I went to hit him.
I tripped, landing on my back and sliding along the floor from the force as I continued to glare up at him.
“Wow, you too, huh? Go hang out with fucking Lukas. I’m done with this shit.”
I could feel my walls coming up, and he was lucky I didn’t have a gun, because I’d shoot him in the fucking leg at least.
“Which shit? The truth?” He snarled as I got to my feet.
I laughed lightly and shook my head.
“No. This shit, Skeet.”
“You want to leave me? Again? Be my guest, Aurora. Be my fucking guest.”
My heart ached as I swung at him, catching him by surprise as my fist connected with his eye.
“Fine. Fuck you, Skeeter Maddox.”
He snatched the whisky from the desk, throwing it against the wall before getting in my face.
I felt the sharp point of his blade poking into my side, alerting me to just how much I’d pissed him off.
The tip of the blade pushed through my skin, but not enough to cause damage.
I glared up at him, gritting my teeth as I leaned into it more to show him I didn’t give a fuck.
“Like it or not, you can’t fucking control me. You can’t scare me into doing as I’m told, so give it up. You’ll never win against me in this argument, and I can see that’s what pisses you off the most. You know you can’t pull me into line, and you hate that, don’t you?”
“Win fucking what? We both lose, you stupid fucking bitch,” he snapped, pulling his blade back before I could seriously hurt myself.
I went to snatch it and use it against him, but he shoved me away, my face smacking into the wall in the process.
It hadn’t been hard enough to break my nose, but it started bleeding pretty quickly.
I fumed silently for a second before glancing over at him, watching as regret flickered in his eyes.
The blood dripped down my face, but I didn’t move to stop it as I kept my eyes on his.
He stepped forwards and I instantly put a hand out to stop him from touching me.
I didn’t give a fuck if he was sorry or didn’t mean to.
I knew that already.
“Don’t touch me. I meant it when I said fuck you. Stay the fuck away from me.”
Anger filled his eyes again as the wall slammed down to remind me of the asshole he really was.
He yanked the door open, slamming it behind him as he left to show me just how mad he was.
Childish bastard.
It sounded like a gun going off in my head as the silence hit, and I finally glanced around the room at the mess.
I started picking the glass up, not realizing the door had opened until a hand rested on my shoulder.
I glanced up to find Slash behind me with concern on his face, even more so when he noticed the blood down my face.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine. Do you have a dustpan? I…”
He waved me off and helped me to my feet.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get one of the guys to sort it out. C’mon, I’ll find you something to clean your face up. Did he punch you, or what?”
“He pushed me away and I hit the wall. I’m fine, it’s not broken.”
“Alright, I’ll still find you an ice pack to stop the swelling,” he tsked, making me wince as his hand rested on my back and pain shot through me.
A serious expression crossed his face as he looked me up and down.
“What else hurts?”
“Slash, I’m fine,” I argued, but the sharp pain in my back started throbbing more as the adrenaline from the fight faded away.
Skeeter and I were totally going to kill each other one day.
“What. Fucking. Hurts?” He dragged out firmly, giving me no choice.
I was tired of fighting with people, so I sighed in defeat.
“My back and my shoulder.”
“Give me a look,” he asked gently, turning me to lift the back of my shirt, a curse leaving him after a second.
His hand skimmed over my tender skin, causing me to
wince again as he sighed.
“Let me sort you out. C’mon.”
“The fuck does that mean?” I asked wearily, the fight with Skeeter finally taking it out of me.
I wanted a hot bath and a goddamn nap.
“It means you’re bleeding,” he muttered, leading me into the main room and over to the sink by the bar.
Skeeter was gone, so I relaxed and sat on the chair that Slash placed in front of me.
He lifted the back of my shirt again and I angrily yanked it over my head, ignoring the fact that the other Psychos were in the room.
“Want me to clear the guys out? I need to unlatch your bra to clean it properly, and…”
“I don’t give a shit, Slash. I really fucking don’t,” I snapped, feeling bad for taking it out on him.
He didn’t seem fazed though as he gently unlatched my bra and grabbed a clean cloth, soaking it with warm water to start cleaning me up.
I ignored the sharp stinging as he dabbed at it, another curse coming from him.
“What?” I questioned, wishing I’d just stayed at the bar with Diesel to begin with.
I just wanted to have a quiet day with a few drinks, was that too much to ask?
“I don’t want to hurt you but I’m going to have to. You have glass in there,” he replied, making me snort.
“Get it out then.”
“Donovan…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it out myself when I get home,” I seethed, moving to yank my shirt back on, but he halted me and cringed.
“I can’t just dig around in there without seriously hurting you, babe.”
“It’ll hurt more when I just start hacking at it with my blade myself. Either you get it out, or I fucking do,” I threatened, knowing he wasn’t going to let me.
“Fine, but you have to sit still,” he warned, pissing me off.
It wasn’t even mid-morning and I was ready to go back to bed.
“I fucking am!” I shouted, calming slightly when his hand rested on my bare shoulder.
“Hey, I’ll get it, okay? Sorry.”
I sat still, wincing as he dabbed at my back again so he could see the glass properly.
He wasn’t kidding.
It hurt like a bitch to get it out.
Skeeter
