by K. L. Savage
“What the hell were you doing in the middle of the desert?” Tool asks her.
I sag against the wall, soaked with sweat, and slide down until I hit the floor. I’m exhausted.
Jessica gives one last twirl, and when she sees me on the ground, she runs over to me, sliding on her knees across the floor. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that. It’s a secret.” She runs her hand over my cheek, and I hum, loving her touch. But then just as quickly as she appeared, Jessica is gone.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Chloe asks, her brows furrowed in that cute confusion she gets when she comes back from the dark. “You’re bleeding,” she gasps. “We need a first aid kit.”
“Okay,” Tool laughs, then lets out a breath that’s half chuckle, half sigh. “What the hell was that? And what do you mean it’s a secret?”
“What secret? What are you talking about?” Chloe doesn’t turn around to ask Tool.
“You said you were dancing in the desert, and I asked why, then you said you wouldn’t tell me, because it’s a secret.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” she muses, taking the first aid kit from Reaper. She lays her hand on my shoulder and she inhales a sharp breath. “You’re burning up and you are sweating buckets.”
“Yeah, when I come down from an episode it’s like I got hit by a bus,” I say, fighting the need to sleep for three days.
“An episode?” she questions, lifting a perfectly groomed brow at me. “You have something to tell me.”
“Everyone has something to tell me! I’m confused as fuck and no one is giving me answers,” Tool gripes. “I nearly died because of your ‘episode’. I deserve to know. And you better share you secrets. Secrets don’t make friends here, they bring war. So spill.” Tool mumbles something else under his breath as he strides to the kitchen. He turns on the faucet and washes the blood off his screwdriver. “Everyone deserves to know the shit we are getting into.”
“Tool, that’s enough. I’ll let you know what I want you to know,” Reaper snaps. His boots clobber the floor as he strolls over to me, his cut gleaming in the living room light. When he gets to me, he squats, pushing my leg to the side to get a better look at the wound.
“Hey, be careful with him,” Chloe says, smacking Reaper’s hand.
He chuckles. “Sorry, my mistake. I’m used to a lot worse, is all. You okay, Uncle Zain?” he asks me.
“Yeah, that’s not what hurts,” I reply. My head feels like it’s going to explode, like a bull with horns is ramming against my skull.
“Tool is right, Zain. Until I have all the information on you and everyone you live with, I can’t help you anymore. I won’t risk the life of my members. Okay?”
“I know.”
He turns to Chloe, who ignores him and stares at me, grasping my hand harder the longer Reaper stares at her. “Why don’t you know the secret?” he asks.
Her eyes dart to the side and her chest rises and falls with quicker breaths. “I need to know.”
“Chloe, it’s okay,” I tell her as she cleans the screwdriver puncture in my leg with rubbing alcohol. “You can trust him.”
“But can I?”
“Damn it, Jessica,” I grit my teeth and thud my head against the wall.
“You just said her name was Chloe.”
“Surprise,” Jessica laughs. “I’m her better half, Jessica.” She holds out a hand toward Reaper and he reciprocates with a slow handshake.
“Chloe,” I say her name again, and Jessica whirls her head so fast her hair twirls just like she does when she dances.
“You’re always wanting her.”
“Chloe,” I growl at Jessica.
“Heads up, Chloe doesn’t know the secret. I do. And I’ll make sure to protect us. I’m never going to say a word. That you can count on. The both of you.” She lets go of Reaper’s hand, and when those hazel eyes land on me, I know it’s Chloe. “So sorry, I don’t know what secret you’re talking about, but I do have a split personality. The other can be real bitch, so sorry in advance. Or so I’ve heard anyway,” she mumbles, giving Reaper a grim expression. She tears my new pajama pants to make room for the bandage and sticks it on. “There. All done.”
“Holy hell, you lot are going to put us through the ringer. What a mind fuck,” Reaper glowers, then rubs a hand down his face. “Okay. That’s fine. Everything is fine.” He takes a deep breath and lowers his hands to the ground, then up toward the sky as he exhales, and repeats the process until he is settled.
“I know we have a lot to talk about, but do you care if it waits? I’m exhausted, and I really need to sleep. After a manic attack, I get into a depressive slump. It’s natural.”
“Yeah, if you need anything, let me know. I’ll be hiring a nurse. Today. Whether you like it or not. You understand?” It’s not a question, but an order. I know that even if I fight him on it, I know he will go and hire a nurse anyway.
“Part time, okay? We need our freedom.”
“We’ll see. We will finish up some restorations today. You rest. I’m going to go check on Porter to see if I want to kill him or not.”
“Tongue won’t like that, Prez,” Tool pipes up. “If someone is going to kill his brother, it should be him.”
“Goddamn it, this fucking world just keeps spinning faster. I mean, who the fuck else deals with shit like this?” Reaper kicks the screen door open and lets out a frustrated howl-like sound. “Damn it!” He kicks the beam, then hops on one leg. “That hurt! My god, I knew I should have worn my steel-toed boots today. Damn everything to hell. Everything. All of it.”
Tool snickers as he watches Reaper, then schools his features when we catch him. “It isn’t often he feels like this. I like to experience it.”
I have a feeling Reaper would kill him if he found out Tool laughed at him.
“Come on.” Chloe wraps her slender arm around my waist. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Are you going to stay with me?” I ask, using the wall as leverage to stand up.
“If you speak truths,” she says, carrying some of my weight as we walk back to my bedroom.
Truths.
In some ways, they are nearly as bad as lies.
At least in a lie, you get what you want. In truths, you’re usually left alone with guilt and regret.
I can’t lie to Chloe.
All I can do is hope she accepts me like I’ve accepted her.
All of me or none of me.
It’s only my heart at stake.
All eyes are on me as I help walk Zain to his bedroom. I feel like we are never going to make it out of that damn room with how much time we spend in it. I have more questions than I do answers right now, no thanks to Jessica. I’m already making enemies because of her. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get on a biker’s bad side, especially the President of the club.
Most of my life has been hectic because of Jessica. I remember when I was a teenager and I started having blackouts. It caused so much turmoil between me and my parents. I wouldn’t remember anything about a conversation I had with them, which apparently usually ended up with me cursing them or sneaking out. It wasn’t me, it was Jessica.
I only remembered waking up in my bed the next day. They would say it was an excuse. I was making things up so I wouldn’t have a punishment, but I was truly lost. Eventually, my parents got tired of my antics and sent me to a therapist.
That’s when my personality named herself.
It took me ages to accept the fact I had someone else inside my head. I didn’t want to be crazy. I wanted a normal life, but that wasn’t in the cards for me, even with medication. My parents felt terrible for treating me so harshly whey they found out I had been telling the truth. I really didn’t remember cussing them out. I don’t remember sneaking out and doing god-knows-what, because it wasn’t me.
I’ve learned to live with her. What choice do I have? And I’ve yet to find a person that likes Jessica. She’s a floozy little bitch that only exists to m
ake my life more complicated. Well, there is Zain. I’m not sure what his intentions are. I’m not sure if I’m a joke or a challenge to him, but I like that he likes me.
And not just me. Her too.
For some reason.
“Thank you,” Zain says as he unwraps his arm from my waist and falls to the bed. His face is pale, his shirt is soaked from sweat, and he has dark circles under his eyes. It’s like he ran a marathon, even if it only lasted ten minutes.
“I’ll draw you a bath. Consider it me returning the favor from last night.”
“Are you going to join me?” he asks, his voice raspy and delicious as he pushes into an up-right position.
“I… I don’t know. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I know it doesn’t really matter because of Jessica, since she showed off our body like it was meant to be on display in some mall—”
“—You are meant to be on display, but not for everyone to see, Chloe. Just me. I’ll admire you, but I won’t touch you, not until you’re ready.”
“I don’t know you,” I say. That’s a good reason not to get in a tub with a stranger.
“Let’s change that, sweet girl. I’ll take a quick shower instead. You and I can put on a movie in here since I don’t have cable.”
“What about everyone out there?”
“What about them?” he asks, limping by me to get to the bathroom.
“I… well… you…” I stumble over my words to try and find a good explanation and point to the door. “I think it’s the right thing to do. I’m a stranger.”
“This isn’t the place to give a damn about the right thing, sweet girl.”
“There is always a place for the right thing, regardless of circumstance.” He looks at me over his shoulder, those sultry brows soaking into me like a warm fire on a cold night. I’ve missed nights in front of the fireplace at home with my parents. The desert nights are cold, which make a perfect reason to light a fire.
He straightens and slips off his shirt, then his torn pants, and I gasp when I see him naked. I glance away as quick as I can, my cheeks as hot as a summer Vegas day. There is no doubt that he is a good-looking man. And big.
Everywhere.
I cross my arms over my chest and hear him chuckle before he steps into the shower stall, the frosted glass blurring out his body enough that I can breathe and look his way again. He has his hurt leg out of the stall door, so it doesn’t get wet. I leave him be instead of talking to him. Being around Zain gets me flustered and nervous.
I’ve never been good around people. Jessica is better at that. She’s outgoing and fun, while I’m introverted and quiet. I never had friends in school, especially when I started blacking out. Apparently, while Jessica was fun, she wasn’t too likeable.
Go figure.
And then I was the crazy girl.
My mom pulled me out of school eventually, and I finished high school being homeschooled. The majority of my life has been this narrowing tunnel, and I’ve been jogging toward the end where the damn light is, but it gets further away with every step I take.
Jessica is the tunnel.
My sanity is the light.
I walk away and take one last look at him in the shower, a parting glance. Jessica must have rubbed off on me a bit. There’s a corner of the stall that isn’t frosted, and I can see everything. He has a hand against the beige tile of the shower stall, his head dropped, and the water beats down between his shoulder blades. I take a step forward, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The water uses the divot of his spine to flow down his body. My eyes follow the river until I’m staring at his bubbled butt. I almost squeak when he turns around and tilts his head back so he can get it wet. I cover my mouth with my hands and ravage his body with my eyes.
Hell in a handbasket, he makes it hard to resist him when he’s as hot as the flames he was born in.
Zain’s body is strong, thick, and hairy, just like a man should be—a real man. He is nothing like Dr. Washington, my therapist. He was one of the only men I had been around besides my father, and I had grown so attached to him that I fell in love with him. I don’t find myself missing him though, so it must not have been real love. Zain makes me feel more than Dr. Washington ever did, and I saw my therapist three times a week for so many years I lost count.
I devour Zain with my eyes, holding a hand over my heart, feeling it thump wildly against my chest. He shakes his head and runs his hand down his face, then his neck, and runs his fingers through his chest hair.
I want to do that.
My fingers twitch to touch him, and when his hand wraps around his thick cock and cups his heavy orbs, a gush of liquid lust wets my panties.
It’s erotic. Even if he is covered in suds, he’s still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.
But what’s his fight? What does he fall victim to? It’s obvious he does. You don’t have really high highs and then crash and burn for no reason.
It takes crazy to know crazy. Maybe that’s why I’m so comfortable around him.
He turns around again, giving me his back, and I take that moment to rip my eyes away from the rolling muscles and hurry to the bed. My nipples are hard and the space between my legs is throbbing with heat. I feel so foolish for being like this. Just because I’ve never been with a man before doesn’t mean I’m a prude.
Why would I want to be with anyone that didn’t understand me or accept me? I had enough rumors going around when I was in my teens. I didn’t want to be the ‘crazy girl’ guys conquered because they made a bet with their friends.
There were a few close calls, but Jessica swooped in and saved my ass.
“You okay?” he asks.
I’m startled when I realize I’ve been staring at the floor. When I divert my attention to Zain, he tucks the towel around his waist.
I gulp.
Listen, not only am I a woman, I have another woman living inside me. It’s like a double dose of lust and arousal all at once.
His cock.
Is there.
Pressing against the towel.
I can see the outline of it. All of it.
Including the helmet of the head.
“You keep looking at me like that, we won’t be talking, sweet girl. And I have a feeling, you’re the type that needs to talk before you spread those legs.”
“I will not be spreading my legs for you or anyone. You be careful with how you talk to me.” I try to sound stern and offended, but I’m breathless and winded.
Especially when he closes the distance between us and tilts my head back. He stares down at me, his jaw set hard. The exhaustion in his eyes is still there but enflamed with rage. Zain’s hand lands on my leg and I take a second to see if he tries to move up my thigh, but he doesn’t. There is a skull tattooed beneath his knuckles, with butterfly wings on either side. It promises death and beauty all at once, which seems fitting, considering he holds the complex nature of both really well.
Zain is a concoction of misnomers and contradictions, but still, I yearn for the deranged brew to course through my system. Maybe he’s poison; and will kill me slowly or maybe he’s the best damn thing I’ll ever have.
He grips my chin, and the hold is tight, almost punishing, and his thumb rubs against my bottom lip. The air cools against my teeth before he pops my lip into place. “Make no mistake, Chloe, you’re going to spread your legs for me. It might not be today or tomorrow—” His lips are a fraction of an inch away from mine, sucking the air out of my lungs “—But I will find myself inside that virgin cunt of yours. I’m going to own it just like I’m going to own you, because you’re mine, sweet girl. All fucking mine. And if you even try to leave me, I will throw you in a padded room. I’m obsessed. And a man like me, a man of my condition, it is much more intense than someone normal will ever feel.”
“So—” I flick my tongue out and taste the tip of his thumb. A hint of soap is lingering on his skin. “—I need to be afraid of you.”
“Yes,” he teases
my lips with his.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to be afraid of you?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head, tickling my mouth with his beard.
“Why me?”
“My mania chose you.”
“What’s mania?” I’m almost afraid to ask, but just because I have a mental disorder doesn’t mean I know all of them.
He crawls over me, causing me to lay against the mattress. “Periods of extremely high moods or elevated excitement. My sex drive—” he grabs my ribcage and kisses the middle of chest “—increases. The need to release the energy becomes paramount.”
“Tell me more,” I say as he hovers over me. I’m surprised Jessica hasn’t taken over since he admitted to wanting to lock me away, but I don’t think she’s afraid of him or she would have made herself known. I’m going to trust her.
Something I’ll never say again.
I lay my hand against his cheek, then run my fingers through his beard. “I want to know everything, so I understand you. I think it’s fair. You’ve seen the other side of me, and you’ve seen me naked. Those are two things I don’t share with people.”
“I can remedy both of those right now,” he jokes, his hand flying to the tie of his towel. “I’m kidding.” He lays his hand on my hip and slides it up my side, outlining the sides of my breast. “I know what you want.”
Zain doesn’t say it with excitement. I mean, no one likes talking about the part of them that makes them imperfect. He slides off me, landing on his side, and props his head up on his chin. “What do you want to know, sweet girl?”
I mimic his position and rub my fingers across his skin, tracing the devil on his arm. I don’t know why I like it so much. Maybe it’s because I think it fits him so well. “What happened with Tool?”
