Revenge (Page 69)

“He doesn’t know what happened to me. When he looks at me, he doesn’t see the damaged, broken girl. He sees the scars and knows I’ve been through something, but he wasn’t there to witness it.” She returned her gaze to Dalton.

There was no hiding the pain in his eyes.

“You can’t move on with us because we’ve seen you at your most vulnerable?” he asked.

“You’ve seen me when I didn’t want anyone to see me. I see the way you look at me, Dalton. You may think you want more, but when you look at me you still see that ten year old girl.” She stopped to lick her dry lips. Talking with Dalton about his feelings had always left her uncomfortable. For a man, he always needed to talk. She hated talking. “I’m thirty years old.”

“Whizz doesn’t know you.”

“But he doesn’t treat me with kid gloves. Yes, he knows something bad happened in the past, but he wasn’t there to protect and save me. When he looks at me, he sees a woman he desires.”

“Do you really think he’ll see you that way when the truth comes out?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care what he thinks. I love you like a brother, Dalton. I’ll never change my thoughts or my feelings.”

Staring out of the window she wondered what Whizz was doing right that second.

“Danny doesn’t trust you,” Dalton said.

“I’m not going to go talking to Whizz in my spare time. I don’t want him to find out the truth from me.” She had thought of going to the clubhouse and finding Tiny and talking to him. Each time she thought about it, she was overcome with regret. Whizz wouldn’t be the same with her once he knew the truth.

This was her problem.

“Lacey, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

She didn’t have the first clue what she was doing, and the last time she saw Whizz was a testament to that fact.

“Fine, I’ll leave you to it.”

Lacey watched Dalton leave her room.

You’ve got to tell Whizz before someone else does.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the glass. If she told him who she was then she risked him hating her.

The Savage Brothers deserve this.

She was torn in two between doing the right thing by the club and following her heart. In her mind she went back twenty years to the man holding her down while he took what he wanted. He wasn’t the first man to use her, nor was he the last. Opening her eyes she stared at her reflection. Twenty years had passed since that moment. She was stronger, harder, and alive. That was the main thing for her. She was alive to see another day.

Whizz may be the first man who gave her an orgasm, or made her feel anything but anger, but he wouldn’t be the last.

You’re lying to yourself.

She wasn’t going to give up her club for a nice bit of cock. Even as she thought the words, she knew it was wrong. Whizz was a lot more than a willing body.

****

Whizz sat at the bar in The Skulls clubhouse. He couldn’t get the scent or sound of Lacey out of his head. She’d come around his c**k as he pummeled inside her. Resting his head on his hand, he stared at his fingers. He’d stroked her clit, and she’d cried out so well.

Get her out of your head.

“What’s on your mind?” Killer asked, taking a seat. He was holding his son as Kelsey helped to clean away the mess.

“Nothing.”

“You don’t look like you’ve got nothing on your mind. In fact, you look like you’ve got a woman on the brain.” Killer turned his son and placed his head over his shoulder. “Any vomit will go down my back.”

“Dude, I don’t know how you can stand to have a kid vomit on you.”

With kids being pushed out left, right, and center, Whizz had seen too much vomit and baby shit to last him a lifetime. Sure, they were all cute and sweet, but he really didn’t want to see anything more than he already had.

“He’s my son. You’ve just got to learn to love all things baby.”

Whizz dropped his hand to his thigh and turned toward the counter. He was sipping a soda as he thought about Lacey.

“Come on, Whizz. You can talk to me.”

Releasing a sigh, he looked at his friend.

“I met a woman at the café a few weeks ago,” he said.

“That’s great. Who is she?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know who she is.” He’d checked the databases, but nothing came up matching her description. She didn’t carry identification, and she’d not given him any other clue as to who she was.

“Seriously? You don’t have a f**king clue who she is?”

Whizz shook his head. “I only know her first name and the fact she has blue hair.” He loved her blue hair. She didn’t dye her hair to get attention. When she sat across from him in the café, he didn’t get the sense that she wanted attention. She was reserved, quiet, and she was broken.

Like you. She’s broken just like you.

Only, Lacey didn’t look at the scars and ask questions. She knew he was going through crap, and yet she was more interested in something else.

“Blue hair.”

Killer was trying to show an interest.

“Look, there’s nothing I need to talk about. I like her, but nothing is going to come of it.” He thought about the fact he’d f**ked her without a condom twice. The last thing he wanted to think about was where he’d f**ked her the other night.

Sitting on a bench in the graveyard hadn’t bothered him at the time. He’d gotten her tits out and loved watching her take his cock.

“I’m sorry, man. You’re not exactly forthcoming with the details. Are you keeping stuff to yourself?” Killer asked.

“No. You know, I’m going to bed. I need to get ready for what Tiny wants me to do.” He used their current predicament to get out of the way. Talking about Lacey with his friend seemed wrong. He didn’t want to share her or what they’d done together.

Going upstairs to his room, he sat on his bed and stared at the blank computer screens. He didn’t want to look her up on the net anymore.

You can’t have her.

Running fingers through his hair, he moved toward his selection of weights. Picking one of the smaller weights up, he started to work on his arms.

“When I’m done with you, no woman is going to want to f**k you.”

Alan’s voice echoed through his mind, drawing him away from the present. He fought the memory as hard as he could.