Torn by the Devil: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Broken Wings MC) (Satan's Outlaw Sins Book 3)

by Sophia Gray

  My hands covered my cheeks. My face was so warm. I couldn't talk. I could barely even think. I couldn't have heard him correctly. Yes, that was it. I had misheard him.

  But deep down, I knew I heard him right, but I just couldn't accept it. Pax never would've done that. His father was mistaken. Pax might kill pedophiles, but he never would have killed a person for money. Never ever. That was just wrong. That was evil. And Pax was a lot of things, but he wasn't evil.

  The silence stretching between us was awkward and uncomfortable. I wanted to get up and run out of the clubhouse. I just wanted out. I needed fresh air to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating.

  "A…" My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. It burned, and I winced at the pain. "He's a contract killer? Pax is?"

  "He was." Pax's father frowned. Lines etched deeply into his forehead, aging him significantly. "Didn't he tell you? I thought you knew. He made it sound like you two were really close. I didn't think anyone could be that close with him without knowing about his past."

  "I…" Once again, I was unable to talk. Was I sad? Angry? Upset? All three, maybe. I didn't even know. I hadn't felt this lost since I had first come to in the hospital.

  "Do you know what that means, his being a contract killer?" his father asked quietly. He was looking at me with sympathy in his eyes, and it felt so strange to see sympathy in Pax's eyes. Pax had looked at me with all kinds of emotions in his eyes but never sympathy. Could he even feel sympathy?

  I couldn't nod or shake my head or anything. I did and I didn't want details. But it would be better to know, right? Knowledge was power and all that jazz.

  He wrung his hands. "Maybe he would rather you not know," he muttered.

  I glowered at him. "It's a little late for that now, don't you think? Go on and tell me the rest of it. I… I need to know. I can't… Just tell me. Please," I added imploringly.

  "This is just going to make him angry with me all over again."

  "Should've thought of that before you started talking to me," I snapped. Immediately, I felt badly. "I'm sorry. I just…"

  "You had no idea and it's a lot to take in. I understand. Believe me, when I found out… I didn't handle it well at all. It almost ensured we wouldn't have a relationship. I mean, can you imagine learning you had a son who was nineteen years old, meeting him, and then learning he was a contract killer?"

  "He told you right away?"

  "Yeah. I think he wanted to make sure I wanted nothing to do with him since he wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn't blame him for being upset. If I had been there for him, his life would've been so different. No foster father, no molestation, no blackness growing inside of him. He never would've killed a single person. He could have had a chance at a normal life with a rewarding job could've made a real difference in the world."

  "He thinks he is making a difference," I said bitterly. "Killing pedophiles at least."

  It wasn't blackness inside of Pax. It was darkness. A sickness. A disease. It was impossible to expect that he wouldn't be carrying scars from what happened to him, but to react this way, to channel his emotions into such despicable acts, that was wrong.

  Saving him had been my goal. Maybe that wasn't possible anymore. Maybe he was already lost to the darkness; too far gone. I sure as fuck didn't feel like I was light enough for myself, let alone for both of us.

  A rewarding job. Would Pax ever consider a real job? I wanted one myself. Maybe I should focus on myself first. Get myself situated with a job and maybe even start beauty school before I tried to straighten out his life.

  If he even wanted his life straightened out. If he didn't, there was nothing I could do to help him.

  "As bad as that is, killing pedophiles, I do understand where he's coming from," his father said. "Exacting justice as a means of trying to cope."

  "Killing people is killing people," I countered. How could I have tried to excuse him for being a monster, a murderer?

  "You may be right, but if you want to stay with him, you might not want to tell him that."

  I grimaced. What the hell? Just keep him happy and look the other way? What about my happiness? We should be doing everything to work together, to make each other better people. Wasn't that what people in relationships did? Yeah, I watched a ton of romantic comedies in the hospital in between my therapy sessions, so maybe I had a slightly warped sense of what a relationship should be, but I wanted more from us, for us than just out-of-this-world sex. We could be more than that, right? We could still have a future, right?

  I wasn't so sure anymore. Trying to think back to the cove was impossible. We had been happy then, but he had been keeping a secret from me and I hadn't truly known him. Would he ever open himself up to me so I could see who he really was? He couldn't hide himself from me. Too much about my own life was a mystery. I couldn't have him be one too.

  His father sighed and rubbed his head. "You're right. I told you this much. I might as well tell you the rest. Pax killed men as a contract killer for the mob."

  As if that made it better. The mob. Not only had he killed for money, but he had been a hired gun for the mob!

  And that was when it hit me. I could remember Pax explaining this to me. I couldn't remember how the conversation started, but I remembered we were in this room. I think… yes, the more I thought about it, the more the memories came flooding back. Pax had been so cold and callous about it all. For a moment, I was lost in the recollection…

  ***

  "It was in the past," Pax said, as if that would excuse his actions.

  "The past never leaves us. It's a part of us. You can't just say it was in the past and expect that not to mean anything!" I shouted. It was late at night and we'd both been drinking. Everything had been fine and dandy until we had started talking about the past. Our lives before we had met, and for some reason, Pax decided to share about the worst part of his life, the worst job more specifically.

  And he was acting as if it was no big deal.

  "I don't want to hear any more." I covered my ears with my hands. "I don't want to hear excuses."

  "You've more than tolerated my killing pedos," he said loud enough for me to hear despite my hand muffs, loud enough that others would've been able to hear if they were here. Tuesday nights were reserved for the two of us. The bar never drew a crowd on Tuesday nights, and sometimes—most of the time—we wanted time to ourselves, so Pax had decreed that on Tuesday nights, his boys had to be elsewhere and no customers were allowed in either.

  I didn't even want to acknowledge him. I should get up and leave, but my stomach was so nauseous from all of the rum and cherry cokes I'd drank, that I was afraid jumping up and rushing away would be too much. I held my silence, my hands still over my ears.

  "Allie, come on now. I—"

  "I know you dated other women before me, no big deal, but how many of them knew and accepted what you do?"

  His eyes were thick with the haze of alcohol, but he wasn't drunk. He never got that far. Since the last guy I dated had been an alcoholic, I appreciated that Pax knew his limit. But seriously? Killing for money? It didn't matter that he didn't do it now. That was insane!

  "None of them knew. I never told them." His voice was clear and didn't slur at all.

  I drained the rest of my almost full, drink. I, on the other hand, was drunk. "Did you think they wouldn't want to be with you if they knew?"

  "I knew they wouldn't understand. I thought you might."

  "Really? Who is going to understand that? You want me to just think it's all good that you don't kill for cash anymore, that targeting only pedophiles is so much better. Come on now. Don't be naïve, Pax."

  His eyes darkened. "I'm a lot of things, Allie, but naïve isn't one of them."

  "Then is it just stupidity?" I snapped. We'd fought before, but never like this. We were like a fire, burning hot, fast, and fierce but extinguishing just as quickly. We'd always fall back into bed and mend our differences horizontally. Or vertically. Or whic
hever way. This time, though, felt different. I just didn't see how common ground could be reached. It would've been better if I had never known. Ignorance was bliss, wasn't that the saying? "Why did you have to tell me?"

  "Forgive me for thinking you might be strong enough to handle it." He glowered at me.

  "Oh, so now it's my fault. Not strong enough. Give me a break." I climbed off the barstool.

  He grabbed my arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

  I jerked myself free. "Don't touch me."

  "Allie…"

  "Pax, I need space."

  "Space? Where are you going to go?"

  He was mocking me? What the hell! "I—"

  "You don't have a job. You—"

  "I have money saved up. And just because I'm not currently employed doesn't mean I can't get another job. Or do you think I'm not strong enough to get another job either?" If only I could shoot lasers out of my eyes. He was being such an ass!

  "I suppose you'll go running back to sissy."

  "Don't talk to me about Marie," I warned him.

  "Oh, I know she talks shit about me all the time. She doesn't even know me."

  "Imagine what she would think about you if she did," I said coldly.

  "Allie, come on. Sit down. Do you want another drink? Just stay here. You can take the bed, and I'll sleep—"

  "Pax, just stop." We never interrupted each other so much before. Neither of us was respecting the other enough to just listen, and we were almost talking at each other instead of to each other. I just didn't really care about what he had to say. "What else have you been hiding from me?"

  His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. I waited for him to deny it, to claim there was nothing else, but silence descended.

  "What else is there?" I ground out. Every second that passed sobered me up a little.

  "Nothing." But he wouldn't look at me. Pax never talked to me without facing me. Never.

  "Sure. I'm outta here. Don't bother calling me. First thing I'm gonna do is change my number. Don't bother looking for me. Not unless you want a door slammed in your face. Don't bother even thinking about me. Got it?"

  He swallowed and shoved one of his hands into his pockets. "Allie, please. Don't do this."

  "It's already done." I started to walk away.

  Pax grabbed me, whirled me around, and kissed me. It was so full of yearning and desperation I wanted to cry.

  But he would not sway me with his sexual charms. My mind was made up.

  "Thanks for the goodbye kiss." I turned around and left. At the door, I hesitated. I looked back to see Pax standing there, hands back in his pocket, rooted in the spot. For how angry he'd been during our argument, I expected him to look pissed.

  He didn't. If anything, he looked lost.

  ***

  I shook my head and returned to the present, which was just as shitty as my trip down memory lane. My memory was coming back, at least a little bit, and God! I wished I was still in the dark. That—learning about his previous job—was the reason why I had left Pax the first time. And, damn, it was reason enough to leave him again. Even if he had stopped being a contract killer, he was still a killer and the chances of him ever changing were looking bleaker by the second.

  All of the pain and anger I had felt toward him came rushing back, and I was trembling. I just wanted to scream at Pax, to rip into him, to leave him and never look behind me ever again.

  I was devastated, broken, and betrayed. Pax was a killer. For real. There wasn't any way to excuse what he'd done. Killing for money was just wrong. Even killing pedophiles was wrong. The time for excuses was long gone. Wrong was wrong, plain and simple, and I had been the naïve one to ever think differently.

  Pax was not the right man for me. Not for Allie. Not for Jasmine. Not today. Not ever. Never again.

  We were done.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pax

  Hours had passed since I'd left the clubhouse, not even bothering to eat breakfast first. I grabbed a protein bar and ate it at a red light. I drove around so much, I had to actually stop and fill up my bike. Considering how considerable the miles per gallon were, that was saying something.

  But for all the miles, time, and questions asked, I failed to track down the asshole I was after. I was hot, sweaty, and frustrated as I drove back to the clubhouse. No solid leads. Not a fucking one. Not even a ghost of one.

  Nothing could make me angrier at this moment. I just wanted to shoot something or ride off and never come home. My hands were shaking as I turned onto my street. Twice, I had almost slammed into the back of a car. Right now, I wasn't safe to be on the road. Hell, I probably wasn't safe to be around period.

  I almost hit the curb as I parked. I slammed the door open and stormed inside. Most of the guys were in the front room, but I didn't want to see them. I needed Jasmine. Needed her naked. Needed to be inside of her. Something had to start going right for me, and there was no one else I wanted to turn to, ever.

  She wasn't in the kitchen or the dining room. Maybe she was upstairs in my room. On my bed. Legs spread. Playing with herself. Wet and waiting for me. The erotic images flashing through my mind was enough to have my cock get hard instantly.

  But then I saw her. And she was sitting next to my father in the bar.

  I just stood there, in the doorway, watching her when I noticed the horror on her face that quickly turned into rage. Only one time before, had I seen that expression on her face.

  She knew. Fuck it all. Could my father do anything else to completely fuck up my life? That rat bastard!

  Before I could do anything, even think about how to handle this, she glanced over and stared right at me. She jumped to her feet and stomped over to me. "What the hell, Pax?"

  Really? Nothing we had shared since she had come back into my life as Jasmine, her second life, our second chance, mattered? It was going to be the same fucking thing all over again, I just knew it. I really didn't need this right now. I couldn't have my life fall apart again. Maybe it wasn't fair for me to hang up so much of my life on this one woman, but I loved her, loved her as much as I could. My life was a shithole before her, and it was a shithole without her. With her, though, my life almost felt as if it had meaning.

  "What the hell, Jasmine?" I mocked. Probably not a good idea to poke the angry bear with a stick, but I wasn't exactly thinking the clearest, still bent over the complete lack of leads on the pedo and now being thrown back into hell again.

  "I can't believe you didn't tell me the truth." Jasmine narrowed her eyes, lips pursed, hands on hips.

  "I never lied to you." I crossed my arms and stared down at her. Damn, that shirt was tighter on her than I thought it would be. Fuck, I could not risk being turned on right now. Focusing on my anger and frustration was enough to get my cock to calm down.

  "You kept me in the dark!" she shouted, her voice cracking. There was pain in her eyes and I hated seeing it there, knowing I was the source of it.

  My father remained seated at the bar, silent, which was for the best because while I wouldn't hit Jasmine, I had no problems pulling back and punching him. But her yelling and my raised voice were causing some of the guys to come investigate the cause of the noise. An audience. For our fight. Wonderful. Why couldn't we just go back to how it used to be when we were happy. We could even resume some of the traditions we'd had back when she had been Allie. Our Tuesday nights together. Mondays we had always gone out for dinner. Friday nights we go clubbing. What a fucking incredible dancer she'd been. One time, we even had sex in the corner. We had gotten so turned on by our gyrating we couldn't wait to go home to finish. Although we had gone for round two and three once we did get back to my bedroom…

  I shook my head to clear away the memory and refocus on the present, as hellish as it was.

  "No one shares everything," I said, but even I knew this angle wouldn't help. "Secrets—"

  "Are poison. Secrets ruin things. Secrets do not lead to trust, and without trust, the
re can't be a relationship." She shook a finger at me. Hell, even pissed off, she looked beautiful. Her eyes were shining, and that saucy tilt of her head…

  I couldn't lose her. But I hadn't known how to keep her before and I hadn't figured I would ever tell her about this part of my life again, so I hadn't bothered to think of how to keep her now.

  Why had I told her in the first place? If she hadn't left me, she never would've been walking on that road. She never would've been hit. She never would've lost her memory. She'd still be Allie; She'd still be mine.

  But I had told her. That night had replayed in my mind so many times…

  ***

  I threw back my drink, enjoying the burn of the alcohol. Allie looked particularly fine tonight. A tight little black dress hardly covered her breasts and her ass, and I just wanted to rip it off of her. But not yet. We had time. The night was young.