The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Lacey pulled out of my arms, pushed her hair back before looking between all of us.

  “What?” I asked, knowing she was debating on whether to tell us something.

  “It’s Daniela’s birthday tonight, and I promised her I’d go out,” she said, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Don’t you think you had a long day?” Connie questioned.

  “I think I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders and for just one night I want to be a nineteen-year-old girl who isn’t mentally ill. I want to be Lacey. Tomorrow I’ll be the girl who goes on lithium,” she said, turning her eyes back to mine.

  Sometimes I think God gave me a daughter just to soften me.

  “Have fun,” I muttered, as Connie stared daggers at me and Lacey smiled at me.

  “Thanks Dad.”

  “But Mack goes with you,” I added. “And if you start to feel a certain kind of way you call me.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured.

  “Yeah, you will,” I agreed.

  She leaned in and kissed my cheek, then her mother’s and lastly Rob’s.

  “Thank you guys,” she murmured hopefully. “I’m going to go get ready.”

  I watched her hurry up the stairs and waited until she was out of sight to turn to Connie and Rob.

  “You really think going out is a good idea?” Connie questioned as she crossed her arms against her chest.

  “I think she’s been cooped up dealing with this on her own for a long time and having one night to be carefree is good for her,” I argued.

  “He’s got a point,” Rob chimed in.

  “Fine,” Connie said reluctantly. “So you’ll call the doctor in the morning?”

  “Yes, get her an appointment as soon as possible,” I affirmed.

  “There’s one more thing,” she started, glancing at the stairs again before lowering her voice and continuing. “Blackie.”

  “What about him?” I asked as I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering where she was going with this.

  “You should call him and tell him what’s going on with Lacey. She cares a lot about him, Jack and whether it’s a crush or not I don’t know but I do know she can’t afford to be confused by her feelings for him.”

  “A crush or not? Of course it’s a crush, you going to tell me otherwise?”

  “I’m telling you to talk to Blackie and let him know what’s going on. Until we have this under control it’s in her best interest if he stays away from her. She can’t handle having her heart broken when she’s trying to mend her head.”

  I remained silent for a moment, processing that my daughter might have genuine feelings for Blackie and wondering what his part in all this was.

  “I’ll talk to him,” I ground out before turning toward the door. “Call me if she needs anything,” I added before I walked out the door.

  As I started for my bike I grabbed my phone about to dial Blackie when my maker decided to menace me.

  I told you but you didn’t want to listen.

  You stupid prick, you’re too blind to see what’s been in front of you.

  He looks at her differently.

  He notices things about her you don’t.

  He’s protects her better than you ever have.

  He becomes alive when she walks into a room.

  How’s it feel motherfucker?

  To know I’m right and you’re wrong.

  “Everything okay, Prez?” Mack asked, pulling me away from the war inside my head and back to the present.

  “Where’s Blackie?” I questioned, the voice of doubt fresh in my mind.

  “Not sure. Want me to call him?”

  “Can’t order me to protect her one minute and not the next, can’t give me her life, tell me it’s precious then expect me not to put her high on my list of priorities. I’m not made that way and you of all people should know that, understand it, because it’s the sole reason you asked me to look out for her all those years ago…you knew I wouldn’t be able to turn that shit on and off so, don’t ask me to now.”

  What the fuck did I do?

  I lifted my eyes to Mack’s.

  “Nah, I’ve got this,” I hissed.

  There’s only one way to shut the motherfucking voice down and that’s hearing the truth. I needed Blackie to tell me my maker was fucking with me. I needed him to confirm he was nothing more to Lacey than Blackie, her protector.

  Nothing more.

  Because heaven help everyone if my maker was right.

  Chapter Thirty

  I stared at my house and took another hit of the joint I was smoking. After I saw Lacey across the street from the liquor store I rode my bike for hours, fighting against the need to pick up the phone and call her.

  I wanted to hear her voice.

  Hear her say my name.

  I reached for my phone and saw three missed calls from Jack. I couldn’t bring myself to call him back because the truth was I was resenting the man. How fucked up is that? I was hating on my chosen brother because I fell for his daughter because I broke a code and I couldn’t take responsibility for it.

  I already hated myself for my past and needed someone else to hate for my present and my future.

  I hated Jack because I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.

  I hated Jack because he’d never let me have Lacey.

  I hated Jack because he kept her safe.

  I hated Jack because I had to give her up.

  I flicked the end of the joint into the street, started my bike up preparing to get the fuck out of there and away from that goddamn house, when my phone rang.

  Mack.

  Something twisted inside me.

  First three calls from Jack and now the prospect I had on Lacey was calling me. I quickly accepted the call and dreaded the news on the other end.

  “Talk to me,” I demanded.

  “Black, I really hate to do this shit but I got a call from my sister and my mother’s being rushed to the hospital,” he blurted. “Lacey’s at Kettle Black on 3rd Avenue with one of her girlfriends. Should I call Jack or one of the other guys?”

  “No,” I said, ripping my engine. “I’m on my way.”

  I disconnected the call, shoved my phone into my pocket and peeled away from the haunted house of memories.

  I should’ve sent someone else, but I was a greedy motherfucker who needed to see her.

  I wouldn’t touch her.

  I wouldn’t even look at her long enough to notice me.

  Yeah, right.

  Today was a win for me, finally freed from my secret and granted a sliver of hope by the two people who brought me into this world. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be and my parents are much stronger than I give them credit for. I thought finding out I was sick would break them but it didn’t. I should’ve known better. I should’ve realized my father is Jack Parrish and nothing brings him down, not his mind, not his grief and not an illness he can’t control.

  And my mother?

  She was married to my father, endured a lot of shit being his wife, she’s a strong breed too.

  I am their daughter which means their strength lives within me and I need to reach deep inside and pull it to the surface.

  I need to make this illness my bitch.

  Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow I am Lacey Parrish the girl who kicks her maker’s ass.

  Tonight I’m just a normal girl celebrating her best friend’s birthday, trying to forget she has a broken heart, and a broken mind. I grabbed the beer in front of me and laughed on cue when one of Daniela’s friends made an attempt at a joke. It didn’t feel natural--laughing, or even smiling and that was probably because I knew what made me smile and what it felt like to genuinely laugh at something.

  I knew happiness.

  I’d felt it.

  And all this is just a cheap imitation of the real thing.

  I miss him.

  I miss him so much and when I freed myself from my sil
ence I wished he was there. He should’ve been there. He’s my person. The other half of me that was put on this earth to make me whole.

  “Oh my God,” Daniela cried, elbowing me as I brought the beer to my lips, causing me to nearly spill it down my shirt.

  “What?” I asked, shoving her hand away and taking a sip.

  “Are all the men in your father’s motorcycle club fucking hot as fuck?”

  She couldn’t have been talking about Mack, I don’t care how turned on girls are by the bad boy…that man was downright scary. I turned my head in the direction she was staring and saw Riggs walk into the bar, flocked by four men I had never seen before—all of them wore the Satan’s Knights patch on their leathers.

  Riggs’ eyes found mine, and he started for our table.

  “Oh my God, they’re coming this way! How’s my hair?” Daniela rambled as she played with her hair, pushing it over one shoulder.

  “Well look who it is,” Riggs crooned.

  “Riggs,” I acknowledged, bringing the bottle back to my lips.

  “Does your father know you’re here?”

  “Who’s her father?” The man wearing camouflage pants asked. He wore a leather a gray t-shirt underneath his leather jacket and a pair of dog tags dangled from his neck. His caramel colored eyes were pinned to mine, and he flashed me a smile full of mischief.

  “Why don’t you call him and tell him,” I challenged Riggs.

  “Stryker, this is Lacey…,” Riggs introduced. “…the Bulldog’s daughter.”

  “And I’m Daniela, no relation to the Bulldog,” she chimed in from beside me.

  “Shit, she’s Jack’s daughter?” Stryker asked, tearing his eyes off me.

  “I’m not Jack’s daughter,” Daniela offered.

  “She’s not just Jack’s daughter,” Riggs muttered, looking back at me. “Does he know you’re here?”

  “He don’t care where I am or if I’m even breathing,” I sneered.

  “I’m Deuce, this is Linc and the guy with the tattoo of a snake crawling up his arm is Cobra,” Deuce told Daniela as he took a seat next to her.

  Ladies and Gentleman we have a charmer on our hands.

  I rolled my eyes and looked back at Riggs.

  “Look, Mack is outside and I don’t need another babysitter,” I said hastily.

  “Is that why they call you Cobra? Because of the snake tattoo?” Daniela asked.

  “No,” he muttered.

  “Tell her why everyone calls you Cobra,” Stryker taunted as he threw an arm around his shoulders, swiped the baseball hat off his head and messed his hair.

  “Dude, you’re stomping all over my game,” Deuce argued, eyeing Daniela.

  “How‘bout a drink darlin’?” his voice had a twang to it, making it clear he wasn’t a Brooklyn native.

  “Mack’s not outside, Lacey,” Riggs informed me, pulling me away from the distraction Stryker, Deuce, and Cobra provided.

  “Guess it’s a good thing you’re here then,” I replied as I pushed back my chair and stood up. “I’m going to get a refill.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for Riggs, or any of them for that matter. They all reminded me of Blackie. I made my way to the bar and ordered myself another beer before digging into my pocket for some money.

  “I’ve got it,” the person behind me said, stretching his arm around me and slapped a twenty on top of the bar. I glanced over my shoulder and saw it was Brandon. “Consider it my attempt at a truce,” he smiled.

  “A truce,” I repeated.

  “I shouldn’t have insulted your boyfriend,” he clarified, stepping around me and taking the beer from bartender and handed it to me, clinking his bottle to mine. “I was jealous and out of line.”

  I studied his features for a moment and decided he looked sincere enough. I tipped the neck of the bottle to his.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking a sip of the beer.

  “Friends?” he asked. “I mean I don’t want him to show up and beat the fuck out of me for buying his girl a drink,” he explained.

  “We broke up,” I replied, wondering if we were even officially together. “You’re safe,” I mumbled, watching as Daniela walked away from our table with Deuce and the rest of the guys to play pool. Minus Riggs. He probably went to call my father.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Brandon said, taking a swig of his beer.

  I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

  “No you’re not,” I accused.

  He brought the bottle down and smiled at me.

  He had a nice smile.

  Not nearly as nice as Blackie’s.

  “Maybe not,” he admitted. “I’m starving, why don’t we order some wings and you can tell me all about it.”

  “How about we stick to wings and beer and leave the rest out?”

  “Deal,” he said, pressing his hand against the small of my back and guiding me back to the table me and Daniela had been sharing.

  By the time we finished the food and Brandon ordered another round of beers the bar was packed and I was actually having a half-way decent time. Brandon was funny and had me laughing which was a breath of fresh air after all the crying I had been doing over the last month, especially the last twenty-four hours.

  I turned my head slightly, still laughing when I spotted Blackie standing by the door staring at me. The laughter died as I closed my eyes and prayed my mind wasn’t playing with me.

  Not tonight.

  Please not tonight.

  I slowly opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I continued to stare at him.

  He looked ragged, like he was wearing himself thin and had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he leaned against the wall and continued to stare at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My ears fell deaf to whatever it was Brandon was saying and I struggled to stop myself from standing up and running to him.

  I was pathetic.

  I saw his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath before he finally turned his head and walked straight toward the bar, ignoring me as he passed our table.

  “Are you okay?” Brandon asked, jarring me from my thoughts and away from Blackie who turned his back to me as he took a seat at the bar.

  “Fine,” I croaked, turning to look at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see him is all,” I explained as I reached for my beer bottle and pushed it aside because it was empty. I snatched Brandon’s and tipped my head back, guzzling the ale hoping I’d forget Blackie ever walked into the bar or into my life.

  “Easy,” Brandon murmured against my ear. “Don’t let him get to you,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he continued to speak against my ear.

  Riggs walked up next to Blackie, and I watched as they downed a couple of shots. Riggs turned around, waved at me and I returned the gesture with a glare.

  I bet he called him when he realized Mack wasn’t here.

  For someone who is always bitching about me and Blackie and whatever the hell you call this thing between us, he’s always throwing himself in the middle.

  Blackie glanced over his shoulder at me or maybe at Brandon but quickly turned back around and shook his head.

  “Hey,” Brandon said, placing his index finger under my chin and forced my eyes to his. “Let’s dance,” he suggested.

  Dance.

  I remember the first time I heard Stevie Nick’s song Leather and Lace and how certain I was that the song was written for me and Blackie. At the time I never thought him and I would ever dance to it but I’d listen to it every now and then and hoped one day we would.

  And then that day came.

  “Listen to the words.”

  You’re saying I’m fragile I try not to be.

  I search for something only I can’t see.

  “Will you dance with me?”

  He wrapped his arms around me without question and danced with me, to my favorite song. A love song about a girl who is fragile yet tries not to be and a man who never thought he was good enough
.

  Go on and tell me that song wasn’t written for us.

  Lovers forever, face to face.

  Stay with me, stay.

  I need you to love me.

  Give me to your leather.

  Take from me my lace.

  You can’t, can you?”

  I looked back to the bar and watched him push back the stool and make his way through the bar towards the restrooms. I diverted my eyes back to Brandon.

  “How about a raincheck on the dance? I have to use the ladies room,” I said as I stood up.

  I didn’t wait for him to answer me and took off in the same direction as Blackie. The door to men’s room was closed, so I leaned against the wall across from it and waited for him to come out.

  Face to face, me and him, leather and lace.

  When he didn’t emerge right away I started for the door, prepared to open it and walk right inside to pull him away from whatever self-destruction he was no doubt engaging in. Why after everything, after the way he hurt me, did I still want to be the one who healed him?

  I know why.

  I love him.

  And I still believe he loves me.

  The door opened as I reached for the knob and we walked right into one another. I lifted my head and met his gaze, recognizing the warmth in his eyes before they quickly turned cold and uninviting.

  “How long are you going to pretend I don’t exist?”

  My voice was so low I wasn’t even sure he heard the question until he stepped closer, the scent of his cologne assaulted my senses, weakening me and making me copy his footsteps until we were a breath a part.

  Hold me.

  Tell me it was all a lie.

  Tell me you love me as much as I love you.

  Let me be your queen because you’ll always be my king.

  “Until you disappear once and for all,” he seethed, glaring at me, shattering the hope reborn in my heart.

  Then he was gone.

  Like a phantom.

  All he left behind was tears in my eyes and the scent of his cologne.

  What’s it going to take for you to realize he doesn’t want you?

  I get it.

  I finally get it.