by M. Never
“Oh, sweetheart, our dinner is here.”
“Show me.”
My mom flips the camera and exhibits the glorious piece of steak and asparagus bunch sitting on her plate.
“That looks amazing.”
“It smells amazing. We were supposed to have so many wonderful meals while you were here.”
“I know.” I frown slightly.
“There’s still time. We’ll book you another plane ticket,” Gerard chimes in.
“Sorry, not happening, Pops, she’s staying with me.” Ky plants a protective kiss on my head, and my mother nearly melts. At least she approves.
“Little Darlin’, what I said still applies. If he doesn’t treat you right, he’ll have to deal with me,” Gerard continues with the threats.
“I think I can take care of myself.”
In this situation anyway.
“We’ll let you two eat. And have some wonderful dinner conversation.” I can’t keep a straight face. I wish I was a fly on the wall to hear what they have to say. Gerard especially.
“Okay, sweetie. I love you. I’ll call you later, and we’ll talk some more.” My mom nods hopefully. Pressingly is more like it. I have a feeling we are going to have a very long, involved chat
“’Kay,” I agree. “Mom, make sure you take a bunch of pictures of the Eiffel Tower. Oh, and the L’Arc de Triomphe. Oh, and that little cafe we love getting lemon chiffon tea at.” I beg dreamily. Maybe I’m going to miss visiting Paris more than I realized.
“I promise, sweetheart. All of it.”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
“Ah, before you hang up.” Gerard motions to my mom to give him the phone. “Ky, you may be my kin and all, but I’ll kill ya if you hurt her.”
Ky huffs. “Well, gee, thanks, Pops. It’s great to talk to you too after all this time.”
Gerard scoffs a bit. And luckily it’s more amused than agitated. It’s fascinating watching them finally interact.
“You look good, son.” Gerard winks at me. Maybe he isn’t as pissed as he originally let on.
“You look older,” Ky makes no qualms about talking trash.
“Glad to see things haven’t changed much.” Gerard bears his pearly whites.
“Oh, things have changed a whole hell of a lot.” Ky chews on the inside of his cheek. “It’s good to see you, though.” They’re making nice. Which makes me very happy. And relieved. No more bloodshed to worry about in the house. “Go have dinner. We’ll talk when you get back.” Ky nestles up against me.
Gerard nods, concentrating heavily on his son. His blue eyes full of a manifold of emotions.
“’Night, son.” Gerard’s tone is stern, yet affectionate.
“Oh, hey, Pops, one more thing. She’s a sweet ass ride.” Ky winks at his father.
Gerard turns red as a tomato. “Ky, you better be talking about the fucking car.”
Click. Ky hangs up on him.
“You’re so mean.” I exclaim.
“I know.” He chuckles manically. “Did you see his face? I wish we took a screenshot. I’d blow it up and hang it behind the bar.”
“My mom heard that dirty little joke.”
“Pfft. She’s married to my father. She’s heard a hell of a lot worse.”
“Not about her daughter. Hopefully.” I smack his stomach.
“Aw, don’t be mad,” he pacifies me. “It’s all in good fun. And it’s the truth. You’re one fucking hell of a ride.” Ky tilts my head back and kisses me. He’s so lucky I love him, or I’d punch him out for that comment. “Now that that’s done. I’m totally ready for you to ride me.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“I bet you are.” We both laugh.
“Breakfast be damned.”
“I can live with that.” I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck, picking up exactly where we left off. Getting hot and heavy right in the middle of the kitchen.
Ky manhandles me, taking every and all liberties with my body. Not one inch is off limits. He gropes my breasts then my ass, licks my lips then my neck, bites my collar then my thigh.
“You going to go down on me right here?” I rest back on the edge of the counter as his mouth works its way north from my knee.
“Why not? We’re the only ones here. I can take you wherever, whenever, however I want.” He brings his face to mine. “You belong to me. You said it last night.”
“Screamed it was more like it,” I mutter under my breath.
“Damn right, baby.” Ky lifts me off the stool and plops me onto the island counter. “And I plan to make you scream it again. Now spread your legs. And let me eat.”
“Kiss me first.” I appeal, utterly lovestruck.
“Snow, I plan on doing that, too.” Ky leans in, and I’m washed away by the first firm press of his mouth. Jesus, I’m powerless against him. His tongue teases its way under my loose-fitting shorts before he shifts the material over enough to lick me with no obstacles in his way.
“Oh, oh, oh,” I twitch with each hard slash of tongue, my pussy throbbing from the ambush of ecstasy.
“Fuck, that sounds so hot.” Ky spies up at me as he eats me for breakfast right on the countertop. I watch his mouth close over my clit, and the concentrated sensation forces me to drop my head back and mewl. “You look so fucking hot,” he spreads my thighs farther apart, splaying his fingers across my kindling flesh. I dig my hands into my hair and pull as Ky continues to feast, my muscles pulling tighter and tighter with every maddening ministration of his tongue.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I grab onto the back of his head with one hand and hold on tight, panting and squirming and pleading.
He moans against my pussy in a gluttonous way. “On me. You, come, all over me.” Then he stands, ripping open the fly of his jeans. Shoving them down, he grabs me chaotically and guides the head of his shaft straight to my soaking wet entrance. We both gasp as he penetrates me, his cock thick and hard and eager.
“Damn, Snow,” he grunts, circling his hips in a furious motion. The pressure and the angle are so good, so precise, the orgasm that’s hovering comes in for a crash landing.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” I jerk upwards with each powerful plunge of his cock into my flooding heat, coming in a frantic array of passionate sounds and fervent gestures. I’m shaking all over, clawing, scraping, and scratching at Ky, gripping onto him for dear life as his cock sharpens and swells, stabbing into me like a meaty knife. He grunts animalistically when he comes, his thrusts turning lazy and fitful while his body spasms. The masculine features of his face twisted with a titanic amount of pleasure.
“Mmm,” he clutches my cheeks and kisses me sloppily, dazed from desire. Drained, he catches his breath by resting his head on my heaving chest. “See. I promised I would kiss you.”
“Kiss is not a strong enough word to describe it.” I run my fingers through his hair, sated, satisfied and feeling utterly sublime.
“Why do you still have clothes on?” He complains.
“Because you to were too distracted to take them off.”
“We need to rectify that. Now.” Just as he goes to slide off my shorts, the doorbell rings, and we both jump.
“Holy shit. Gerard just sprinted across the pond to kill you.”
“Shut it. That senior citizen couldn’t run across The Lion’s Den parking lot. Stay put.” He pops a kiss on my lips. “I’ll get rid of whomever it is.”
My very large, very hot, very intimidating boyfriend walks across the expanse of the room. He’s a dark constitution amongst all the light. Just like Gerard. And just like his father, he fits. Right here in this house, in my life.
I watch Ky, overly invested. He speaks to whomever it is for a good, long minute before he says, “Kira, we have company.”
A man I don’t recognize follows Ky through the house. He’s dressed similar to Ky, black T-shirt and jeans, and is carrying a yellow file folder. The man’s T-shirt has a logo on it, though, the
same angry bomb that was on Ky’s hat with words that read “Baumer Mafia.” His hair is dark, and so are the thick-rimmed glasses on his face.
“Kira, this is Hawk,” Ky introduces us. “He’s the one who came over and looked at the alarm.”
“Oh, right.” I put my hand out. “Nice to formally meet you.” I dangle my feet on the counter top.
Hawk just nods. Not very social I take it. Or maybe he just isn’t a fan of me. He’s giving off some serious hate vibes. I pull my arm back, dissed.
“Slash, can we go someplace private and talk?” He’s all business.
“Is it about the club?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Then Kira can hear.”
Hawk rubs the back of his neck. “I still think we should talk in private. It’s about that situation you asked me to look into.”
“The situation with Kira and who’s stalking her? That situation?”
“Yes, exactly that,” Hawk responds, miffed.
“Then Kira should definitely hear,” Ky makes up his mind. My pulse flies one-hundred-and-eighty miles an hour at the mention of the word stalking.
“Suit yourself. You’re the Prez.” Hawk throws the yellow folder at Ky. “Read it.”
More curious than a cat, Ky picks it up and inspects its contents.
His face scrunches as he reads, “Diagnosis: post-traumatic stress syndrome, depression, early onset of psychosis, with instances of hallucinations and delusions. Attempted suicide.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Where the fuck did you get that?” I hurl myself across the counter at Ky, trying to grab the folder out of his hand.
He steps away faster than I can move. “Kira, what is this?”
“It’s . . .” I began to hyperventilate. “It’s . . . my past.”
Ky looks at me like he’s never seen me before. “Attempted suicide? And what exactly is psychosis?”
“It’s a mental disorder,” Hawk feels compelled to explain.
“It’s not a disorder,” I snap. “It’s a symptom.”
“Of a mental disorder,” he patronizes me.
“No, I don’t have an illness. And I haven't had an episode in years.”
“Ya sure? Cause you’re sure selling it hard to my Prez over there that someone is after you.” Hawk makes it clear he thinks my claims are bullshit.
“Someone is.”
“Really? Has there been any more spooky incidents? Any more freaky feelings that someone is following you? Has the alarm even tripped on its own lately?”
I swallow hard, running through the last week. No, none of those things have happened recently.
“Maybe Ky scared whoever it was away?” I try to rationalize.
“Maybe there was no one to begin with,” Hawk tries to throw me under the bus.
“There was. I know it,” I push. I’m not crazy. Someone was following me.
“Not far as I can tell,” Hawk disagrees. I want to punch him in his smug face. “Far be it from me to deny help to anyone, but when something seems off, I dig in deep.”
“And you decided to dig into me?” I hiss. I feel violated. That file is my personal record. My cross to bear. It should have been my decision when and where I told Ky about it. Not have it dumped all over the table like a barrel full of rotten fish.
“She’s been playing you the whole time, bro.”
“I have not. “I strongly deny his accusation. “Why are you trying to poison him against me?”
“Because he’s my Prez, and one of my best friends, and it’s my job to protect him.” Hawk gets in my face.
I want to break his glasses right off his nose. “You’re an asshole.”
“Enough.” Ky inhales a deep breath. He’s quiet for way too long. “Kira, I’m going to ask you once.” Something strange sparks in his eyes. “Have you been playing me this whole time?”
The question nearly breaks me. “No.”
“Were you ever going to tell me about this?” He waves the folder in the air.
“Of course I was. I just needed to find the right time. I needed to trust you.” I fumble over my words, panic threatening to choke me.
Ky’s gaze turns as dark as a thunderstorm. “You needed to trust me?” he repeats coldly, chillingly so. “And when exactly was that going to happen? ’Cause from what you’ve been spewing out of your mouth, you trust me already.”
“That’s not how I meant it,” I backpedal.
“Then how the fuck did you mean it?” He turns on me.
“Ky, please don’t get like that.”
“Get like what? Pissed off? Feel played?”
“I didn’t play you, I swear,” I insist. “Why would I? What would be in it for me?”
“Entertainment.” He tosses out a ludicrous response. “Something to buy your time until you went to Paris.”
I shake my head insanely. I can’t even believe what he’s accusing me of. And so easily. It’s like he’s a stranger.
“Bored, rich girl plays with the dumb biker? Stupid, simple Neanderthal.”
“Stop.” My eyes water uncontrollably. “That’s not true.”
That person I thought I loved is gone. Just poof, like a puff of smoke. The man who was mistrusting, mean, and jaded taking his place, reemerging with a vengeance.
“I don’t know what the fuck is true anymore,” Ky gripes.
“We are.” I try to grab his arm, but he jerks it away.
“Are we?” His eyes are hollow, void of any admiration.
“Yes, of course. I never lied to you. I never deceived you.” Images of last night play through my mind. We broke so many barriers. Overcame so many obstacles. And now everything, our entire relationship, is on the line because one of his jerk-face friends is here accusing me of shit. Shit he knows nothing about.
“It doesn't feel that way.” Ky peers down at the folder in his hand. I start to suffocate. He doesn’t believe me. Maybe, he doesn't really want to believe me.
“I can’t be with someone who deceives me, Kira. It makes me look weak and makes me vulnerable. And I can’t afford to be either of those.”
I’m grasping at straws, trying to rapidly figure out a way to convince him I’m not lying, or deceiving him. That I love him.
“Ky,” my voice breaks.
“I gotta go.” He steps back, and I’m left in shock. What is happening? How is it all falling apart so fast?
Ky walks to the front door with Hawk right behind him. “So that’s it?” I yell with fury. “You’re just going to walk away, just like that?”
“It’s what needs to be done.” Ky doesn’t turn around. Chicken- shit. He can’t even bring himself to look at me.
Angry tears drip down my cheeks. “Gerard knew what was going to happen the whole time, didn’t he? He knew exactly what you were capable of. You’re a traitor.”
“You fucking leave my father out of this,” Ky turns and explodes.
“You were right about one thing.” I wipe my wet face.
“And what’s that?” He sneers.
“You are a coward.”
Ky stares me down like his eyes are two rocket launchers ready to fire.
“You have no idea who I am, Kira. You can’t accuse me of shit.”
“Oh, I know exactly who you are . . . ” I contest. “Fucking no one.”
Hawk pulls at Ky as he tries to rush toward me. “She ain’t worth it, bro. Leave her in her fucking palace, and let’s be out.”
Ky hesitates, our eyes fixated on each other, the connection red hot.
My heart is breaking into a million little pieces right now, and he doesn’t even fucking care. No explanation is allowed to be had. Just BAM! You’re trash, no matter what we pledged to each other last night.
He told me he loved me not a half-hour ago, made love to me not ten minutes ago, the smell of sex still potent in the air, and now he’s just walking right out the door. Not a flying fuck about me to found.
My limbs feel weak, but
I won’t break, not in front of him. Not in front of anyone.
Ky and Hawk walk directly out the front door without a second glance, and once I hear their motorcycles pull away, I fall to the ground, sobbing inconsolably.
The pain is like a blazing sword cutting straight through my chest. I fight to catch my breath, but the hiccups are stealing all my precious oxygen.
I cry harder as I find myself at a loss. Alone, abandoned. My world is spinning, and I don’t know how to stop it.
I look out the back of the house, and the glistening pool catches my undivided attention. I crawl across the smooth travertine to the patio.
With what little life I have left, I fight to stand. I see my reflection in the surface of the water. It isn’t the first time I looked like this. A fucking mess. But there’s one thing that always helps me heal. I step off the edge and submerge myself into the blue. I need the quiet. I need the solitude. I need the reprieve. I need the whole world to just fucking disappear.
I need to fucking disappear.
I close my eyes and find sanctuary at the bottom of the pool.
Alone, abandoned, and yet again at another loss.
16
Ky
I’M A FUCKING TRAIN WRECK.
Kira’s hollow eyes keep haunting me.
I broke her fucking heart and mine in the process.
I haven't stopped drinking since I walked into The Lion’s Den last night.
I want to be numb. I want to forget. I want the ghost of the only woman I ever loved exorcised from my life.
No one is left in the bar except Popeye, Hawk, Breaker, Vet, and Harley. They’ve been babysitting me. I haven't spoken a word about Kira. Just sat here and tossed back shot after shot with a bottle of Wild Turkey keeping me in excellent company.
I’m a fucking dick.
I’m a deserter.
No man left behind, my ass. I’d be court-martialed if I was on the battlefield.
Walking out of Kira’s house yesterday felt like a warzone. I didn’t even entertain the idea of letting her explain. I formed my own conclusion, and ran with it. I’m good at that. A pro, really. I believe what I want whether it’s the truth or not. It’s my biggest downfall. My most unjust flaw, all for nothing in the name of perception. To uphold my stature and shield me from vulnerability. If you don’t allow anything to hurt you, nothing ever will.