by Nina Levine
I’d stopped washing Nitro’s face as I told him the story. He stood and pulled me into his arms when I finished. I hesitated to embrace him, though, because I didn’t want to hurt him.
Pulling back a little, he found my eyes. “Put your arms around me, Tatum,” he said gruffly.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He gave me a look that told me just to do it, so I did, and he held me tighter. We stayed like that for a long time until finally he let me go and said, “What happened to the guy after that?”
“His parents agreed with mine to keep quiet and not go to the police with what happened. They didn’t want Chris to be charged with assault. Their family ended up moving away after that, and we never saw or heard from that guy again.” I dropped my eyes as I thought about what that assault did to Chris. When I found his gaze again, I said, “The thing was, though, that one of the local gangs took notice of Chris after that. They saw him as a fighter and wanted him on their crew because of his fighting ability. And from then on, he was always tied up with crime and violence and drugs.”
“Fuck,” Nitro swore, his hands cradling my head. “You can’t blame yourself for that shit. He made his choices, and you couldn’t control them.”
“I should have called the police that night, instead of Chris. If it wasn’t for that, he would never have caught the eye of that gang and his whole life would have been different.” I was lost in my memories and thoughts. I’d lived with this regret for years and it had been stirred when Chris was murdered. It almost suffocated me some days. I was convinced it would never let me out of its grip.
Nitro’s jaw clenched. “Regret is a bitch, Vegas. A motherfucking bitch.” He spat his words out as if he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. Like they twisted in his gut and he needed them out to ease that pain.
“Who scares you?” I whispered, my heart beating wildly again. Nitro wasn’t a man who I thought would scare easily, if at all. When he’d thrown that question out there, I knew it was because someone did.
His chest rose and fell hard and fast. “My uncle had this man who did most of his training for him. Joseph would find the soldiers and then William would beat them into submission. He was ex-army and specialised in torture. He programmed us to respond to him with fear.” He stared at me while he talked, almost vacantly, and I could see how much his memories consumed him. How much they still owned him.
And then it hit me.
“Did you see William today?”
His heavy breaths filled the silence. He nodded. “I thought I was done with all that. Thought they had no control over me anymore. Turns out I was wrong about all of it.”
He let me go and I quickly reached for him, managing to hook my hand around his neck, stopping him from moving away from me. “But you fought back today?” His wounds told me that much.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t count for fucking much if simply being in William’s presence causes me to lose my shit.” His face contorted. “I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. I almost fucking threw up.” His voice was ragged, and I read all the things he wasn’t saying in between what he was saying. My strong man cracked that day and he couldn’t make sense of it.
I knew there was nothing I could say that would make this any better. No words would ease his torment. So I simply held my hand out to him and when he took it, I led him to my bedroom.
Lifting his shirt over his head, I pressed my mouth to his chest. He’d taken punches all over his body from what I could see, so my kisses were a whisper across his skin in an effort not to hurt him further. Though there was no wild abandon, my passion simmered deep.
Moving down his body, I undid the button on his jeans and lowered the zip. He hissed as I removed his pants. A moment later, he pulled me back up so our faces were close.
Running his finger down between my breasts, he said, “This looks good on you.”
I glanced down at his shirt I wore. “Yeah, it does. I’m keeping it.”
“Yeah, you should.” He took it off and threw it on the floor. “But you shouldn’t wear it often,” he added while he flicked my bra undone and removed it, too. His mouth closed over my breast and he sucked my nipple between his lips.
I loved the sight of Nitro’s head bent so he could suck and lick my breasts. Running my fingers through his hair, I moaned as he worked his way across to my other nipple. His tender touch was in stark contrast to his fury that I craved. But this other side of him was a side I could love just as much.
He growled deeply as his arms circled my body and he lifted me.
“Wait,” I said, concerned. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself any more than you already are.”
“Wrap your legs around me, because I’m going to fuck you, even if it kills me.”
I did what he said because one look at his determined expression told me he meant every word. Once my legs were around him, he walked me to the bed and placed me on it. He then slid his hands up my legs, hooked his fingers into my panties and pulled them off.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped as he straddled me. His attention was completely on my body, and his gaze lingered on every inch of me. His hands and mouth moved over my skin slowly, as if he was making art on me. He seemed spellbound and in turn, I was too, because this wasn’t the Nitro I knew. And it stunned me that he could be like this, especially after the violent beating he’d taken.
Fucking Nitro was usually like diving into a raging ocean. The beautiful frenzy of it both exhausted and calmed me. I’d never experienced anything like it in my life. Sex had become more than just a physical act with him. Even though it could be furious and brutal, I knew we both used it as a way of dealing with our darkness. It soothed us. If only for that time we were joined as one, we breathed a little easier.
But the way he caressed me was a whole other thing. I’d never been touched like I was priceless and precious before, and that was how Nitro was touching me. It soothed me in a way I’d never imagined possible.
He surrounded me with care.
He wrapped me in devotion.
He breathed life into me.
When Nitro finally entered me, he’d found his fury again, and he fucked me with that rough energy I hungered for. We were a storm and serenity all rolled into one. But it was the storm we both needed the most.
39
Nitro
“The Pretender” by The Foo Fighters
I watched King as he entered the room. He’d called Church unexpectedly, and that always meant he had something to tell us. Something was going down, and I was on edge.
His eyes met mine before he spoke. I didn’t like what I saw there.
Apprehension.
Regret.
Determination.
Tearing his gaze from mine, he looked around the room. His body was rigid as fuck and when he finally announced his news, I understood why.
“We’re not buying guns off Sutherland. We’ll be proceeding with the deal Joseph Lockwood brought to us.”
It was a fucking kick in the gut. The tension I’d been carrying for months finally threatened to snap and I shoved my chair back and stood.
“Why?” I thundered, unable to hold my anger back.
King turned to me. There was no anger there, no glare, nothing. Just a shitload of unspoken apologies. “I don’t trust Dragon. We might be in bed with him over this Gambarro shit, but I don’t want to rely on Sutherland if Dragon’s in his ear. Fuck knows what could happen down the track after we’re finished with Gambarro. Better to build a relationship with another supplier now.”
I pointed my finger at the bruises on my face and body. “Jesus Christ, King, you’ve seen what he’s capable of. I’d rather get in bed with Billy if our only other option is Joseph.”
He ran his hand over his face as he shook his head. “With the amount of guns and ammo we need, that option is off the table. Billy would bleed us dry with what he charges.” He didn’t acknowledge the beating I’d taken, but then o
ur world was full of violence, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, it cut that he didn’t care.
“Fuck!” I spun around and punched the wall, letting my anger flow out of me.
Hyde spoke up. “I’m on board with using Joseph.”
Of course he fucking was. And so, it turned out, was everyone else. The mighty dollar guaranteed that. With the tens of thousands of dollars we’d save buying from Joseph, they all jumped in quickly with their support for the decision.
Then King twisted the knife in further. “The deal is going down today. And Nitro?”
I stared at him. “What?”
“Joseph had one stipulation for this deal to go ahead.”
“What?” Tension punched through every part of my body in anticipation of what his requirement could be. Joseph would surely use this as some way to drag me back to him.
King held my gaze in the way he did when he wanted no argument. “He wants you there.”
My mind raced with what his reasoning for this was. There had to be a trap. There always was with Joseph.
“Nitro?”
My head snapped up. There were so many questions that King was asking me. Was I on board? Would I do what he asked? Were my loyalties with the club? I nodded. “Yes.”
He returned my nod. “We leave in an hour.”
* * *
Joseph’s car pulled into the warehouse and parked next to the truck that had already arrived. He exited the black SUV and walked our way, his gaze not leaving mine.
King stepped forward, meeting him. They exchanged words, but I couldn’t hear what was said. My ears roared as my demons circled so even if I’d been closer, I probably wouldn’t have made out what they were saying. I’d spent the last hour going over and over what Joseph’s goal could be with having me there. I’d come up fucking short, and that only meant my vigilance was extreme.
King raised his arm and motioned for me to join them. I closed the distance without hesitation. If Joseph wanted me there, he wouldn’t see any of my uneasiness. However, just as I almost reached them, William circled around from the back of the truck and came my way.
Fuck.
Sweat broke out on my forehead and my throat turned dry. The nightmares of my childhood screamed to life when I realised he wore the exact outfit he’d worn years ago while drilling obedience into me. Black cargo pants, black tee and black combat boots. The fucking bastard knew it would be a trigger for me, but I was getting better at fighting those goddam triggers. My physical reactions weren’t so controlled, but I worked overtime trying to shut them down.
“William,” I greeted him, holding my body up straight.
Disappointment flashed across his face for a second before he scrubbed it away and gave me a tight smile. “Rhys, we meet again.”
“We do.” Our faces were a mess of violent bruising and swelling, and if his body felt anything like mine, it was in some pain. But there we were, years after I thought I’d never see him again.
“Can we get this done?” King asked with a scowl. He’d pulled me aside after Church and told me he’d do his best to push the delivery through fast so I didn’t have to be around Joseph for long.
I’d seen King’s reluctance to take this deal and in between the words of what he said to me, I’d understood his reasons. I didn’t like them, or necessarily agree with them, but I got why he took this path.
Joseph motioned for William to take care of business with King while he walked my way. Eyeing my bruises, he said, “Your father would be proud of you, Rhys. He never did see eye-to-eye with me about your potential.”
He made no sense to me. “What the fuck does that mean?”
His lips curled into an evil smile. “My brother had such noble dreams for your future. He wanted you to have what he never did. Told me once that you were smart enough to be a doctor or a lawyer or even a scientist. You did love science after all. I was the one who saw you for who you really were. Smart as a whip and able to make decisions on your feet. I knew that with the right training you could lead an army. The fact you’re still fighting me on your destiny, he’d be proud of that.” He paused for a moment and his evil fucking smile grew. “It’s a good thing I didn’t allow him to be around to help you fight me.”
My breathing slowed. “You what?”
He watched me closely with a look of triumph. “Did you think that car crash was an accident all those years ago, son?”
The car crash when I was twelve.
The one that killed both my parents.
The deaths that forced us to live with Joseph.
Motherfucker.
Every emotion I’d ever buried roared in my head. In my body. Through every fucking part of me. He’d taken my parents from me and he’d taken my life, too. Every good thing I ever had died that day. Joseph had extinguished all the light in my life and filled it with darkness instead.
I will kill him.
My loyalty to King and the club shattered. Once we left this warehouse, I would make a fucking plan and I would rip the life from Joseph’s body.
King blurred into focus as Joseph shifted away. Coming to me, he said, “We’re done, Nitro. Time to go.”
I blinked.
Forcing out a harsh breath, I snapped back to attention. Turning, I stalked to the van we’d come in. I didn’t give Joseph another glance, didn’t want to look at him more than I had to. The next time I saw him would be the last.
* * *
I glanced at my phone, looking for a text from Tatum. I’d sent her one twenty minutes earlier and hadn’t heard back. Unusual for her. She never took more than ten minutes to reply.
“You gonna finish that beer or just stare at your phone all afternoon?” Devil asked.
My hand squeezed around the phone and I looked up at him. After I drank what was left in my bottle, I said, “Just waiting on a message.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s fucking obvious. You whipped bastard.”
I stared at the empty bottle in my hand. If whipped was feeling anxious when you didn’t hear from the woman you shared your bed with each night, then yeah, I was fucking whipped. If it was worrying about her when she wasn’t with you, and thinking about her all the fucking time, then I was absolutely, 100 percent whipped. Something I never thought I’d be. And something that scared the shit out of me. Not because I didn’t want to feel that way about her, but because being with me could be dangerous for her. To hold that responsibility in my hands was more than I thought I could handle at times.
I took a deep breath and met Devil’s gaze again. “Yeah, you could be on to something there, brother.”
He grew serious. “I like Tatum. Not that it matters what I think, but a chick like that, who doesn’t take your shit and who stands by you regardless, that’s a chick worth having in your life.”
“You ever had that before?”
“Yeah, but I always fuck it up. One day I might get that shit right.” He jerked his chin at the bar. “You want another beer?”
I nodded, and he left me alone while he headed to the bar. Staring at my phone again, I decided to call Tatum, but as I swiped to dial her number, the phone rang. It wasn’t a number I knew.
When I answered it, a man’s voice sounded. “Is that Rhys Lockwood?”
My gut tightened. No one called me that anymore. Except for Joseph, but this wasn’t my uncle on the line and sounded too formal to be anyone he would associate with. “Speaking.”
“Rhys, it’s Matt Logan here, Marilyn’s psychologist.”
I dropped my head into my hand as fear filled me. “Is she okay?” He never phoned me. This couldn’t be good.
“To be honest, I’m not convinced she is. I just had a phone call from her and she was in such a state that I called an ambulance to her house. This phone call to you is highly unusual, I never do this, but I feel it’s crucial I pass some information on to you.” He took a breath before continuing, “Marilyn saw the man who raped her today.”
The man who rape
d her? I fucking killed that man. There was no way she could have seen him.
“Doc, that’s not possible. That guy is dead.”
“I’m not referring to the recent rape. I’m referring to the ones from when she was a child.”
The room spun.
I gripped the phone so tightly it should have shattered into pieces.
My mind ran in a million different directions.
This couldn’t be happening.
“You’re telling me that my sister was raped when she was a child?”
Silence.
And then—“I thought you knew.”
I was on my feet before I realised it and walking out of the clubhouse. I could hardly process what he was telling me. My need for violence was extreme. I wanted to punch and kick and thrash and scream this injustice out of me.
Not my Lynny.
It was where her darkness came from, and I’d never known. She’d kept this shit wrapped up tight and it had almost killed her. I should have been there for her. More. I should have done more.
“Rhys, are you still on the line?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” The words came out a strangled mess. “Who did this to her?”
Deep in my gut I knew. I fucking knew.
“It was your uncle,” he said quietly, his words full of regret. “I’m sorry you’re hearing this from me. I honestly thought she’d told you.”
I clenched my fists as I made my way to my bike. “What happened today? Did he hurt her?” I would fucking drag his death out for this. I would make him hurt so fucking much for every ounce of pain he’d caused Marilyn.
“No, he didn’t approach her. She saw him outside her house. Apparently, he was sitting in a car looking at the house for a while and then drove off. I thought it appropriate you know this information so you could take steps to avoid him coming near her again.”
