Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5) (23 page)

I was going for the rewrite.

Chapter Eighteen

I visited Christine’s grave every Saturday for the last month as a way to repay Blackie for always doing right by me. I knew it meant something to him, that it gave him purpose in a world where he thought he didn’t have any, and every week he missed a chance to bring her flowers was one week he thought less of himself.

The first time I brought the flowers I felt like I was doing something wrong, like I shouldn’t have been there and didn’t have the right. It’s kind of fucked up, visiting the grave of a woman who was married to the man you love. It’s not like they were divorced and fell out of love, they were a tragic love story, a modern day Romeo and Juliet, two people who loved one another but fell victim to corruption.

I know Blackie will always hold a certain love for her.

As he should.

That kind of love doesn’t die, it stays with you, guides you into eternity.

I want that kind of love.

The second visit I felt the same way but as I stared at her name I forced myself to remember the faint images my memory carried of the woman who made Blackie smile. It was my eleventh birthday and my father threw a party for me at the clubhouse. It was awkward being the biker princess when there weren’t any women in the clubhouse and the presents I got that year were just as strange. Wolf bought me a catcher’s mitt and told me boys my age loved girls who played sports. Pipe, the poor bastard, he gave me a Barbie doll. Imagine? I decided I didn’t really want presents after that, and I anxiously waited for Blackie to arrive.

He finally showed up, but he wasn’t alone…Christine was with him and they looked so damn happy. I hated them both. Let me explain, I was an eleven-year-old girl, with a crush on a man, not a boy, and he was married to the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Prettier than my mom, prettier than my favorite actress. I realized then, even at that tender age when a girl notices boys, that Blackie only had eyes for her.

Of course they bought me the cool gift.

A caboodle full of lip gloss and nail polish.

Did I mention I hated them?

The third visit to Christine I talked to her. I told her the truth, confessed my feelings and then I apologized. I apologized for hating her when I was younger and for not getting to know her then. I told her I’d always regret not getting the chance to make a memory with her, something I could compare when Blackie took his trips down memory lane.

By the fourth visit, I knew he was being released and my time with Christine would come to a close. I asked her to watch over him and promised he’d return next week.

I never expected him to find me there.

If he went to the cemetery, found the flowers and wondered who brought them…I’d let him keep wondering.

But he not only saw me, he heard everything I said and for the first time I became his equal. Someone who could relate and understand. I took a chance, despite the doubt my maker tried to impart on me, hoping he wouldn’t turn a deaf ear to me and pleaded with him.

He didn’t argue or makes excuses.

He listened.

A spark of hope was ignited and even though I wanted to stay with him, never leave his side, I walked away and gave him his overdue visit with his smile keeper.

My dad and Reina were having everyone over for dinner, a celebration of sorts, thankful that that he survived. I was on pins and needles after I left the cemetery, worried about how he’d act in front of everyone and prayed he wouldn’t act like a world class jerk. I didn’t think my heart could take another blow, especially, not after sharing a tender moment and the softer side of the man clothed in leather.

He was relatively quiet as he sat beside me, eating the olives I picked out of my salad. He didn’t ignore me or pretend like he wasn’t feeling some kind of way about me. I’m not naïve enough to believe he had some sort of epiphany but I think he thought about the, what if and maybe, just maybe, he walked away from the cemetery carrying the same spark of hope I did.

My phone blew up, reminding me I had made plans with Daniela and Noah to attend this frat party. I hated college parties, especially the type that included sorority girls.

Fake.

Whiney.

Kappa Annoying.

I texted Blackie about twenty minutes ago the address I was at but he didn’t answer me. I hope he didn’t change his mind. He brought me into the bathroom, whispered sexy things into my ear as he slid his hand into my pants.

I glanced around the room at the guys doing keg stands and smiled.

There was no comparison.

Give me my guy over these any day.

“Come on,” Daniela said, dragging me onto the makeshift dance floor. “Standing here in the corner won’t help us nail one of the frat brothers,” she insisted.

“That’s fine with me,” I mumbled, making the best of the situation and joined her. I suppose she needed a wingman. I felt a hand on my waist and spun around to meet Noah’s handsome face.

My best friend was the poster boy for college jock but he wasn’t a jerk like the rest of them. He was sweet, and I hoped pledging didn’t change that about him.

“There’s my girl,” he exclaimed, hitting me with the scent of alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Thanks for coming.”

“And miss your big night? Never,” I teased.

“No, introduce me to your friend,” the guy standing next to him said.

I lifted my head, smiled politely as I took him in. I had seen him around campus before. He might even be in one of my classes, maybe English, I don’t remember…. nor did I remember his name.

“Lacey, Brandon. Brandon, Lacey,” Noah introduced, turning around to glare at his friend. “This one’s off limits, man.”

“She yours?” Brandon questioned with a smile.

“She’s mine,” a voice said from behind me.

That voice.

Those two words.

It all gave me goosebumps.

He came.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulled her against me and glared at the little fuck, watching as he stared back at me, surrendering his hands in the air.

“Didn’t know they were letting parents chaperone,” he laughed.

Kid had a death wish.

“Dude,” the guy next to him warned. I had seen him with Lacey a handful of times. “Don’t you know who he is? Man, read the fucking patch before you go saying something stupid.”

Lacey twisted in my arms, lifting a hand to my face and forcing my eyes to hers.

“Let’s just get out of here, okay?”

I nodded, diverting my gaze back to the little shit who rolled his eyes as Noah whispered in his ear.

She grabbed my hand and dragged me away.

“You look like you’re going to snap his neck,” she commented, over the loud music. Ignoring her, I stepped around her and pulled her through the sea of dicks fist-pumping away, hoping to get a blow job.

Wolf was right.

Lacey didn’t belong here.

She belonged with me, on the back of my bike, in my bed…anywhere but surrounded by a bunch of little pricks who didn’t know how to work their dicks.

I didn’t stop moving until we were outside and standing in front of my bike. I unclipped the chin strap from my helmet, turned around and handed it to her.

“Time for your first ride,” I said, urging her to take the helmet.

She cocked her head to the side, her dark eyes smiled at mine as she raised an eyebrow.

“You did that already,” she teased, taking the helmet as she chewed on her lower lip. Hesitating for a beat before reaching up on her tip toes and pressing her lips to mine.

She pulled back, pulling the helmet over her head and moved to adjust the chin strap but I stopped her, pushing her hands out of the way and did it myself.

“That was nothing, girl,” I promised.

She had no idea what she was in for and that thought alone got me rock hard. The idea of watching her face as she learned how to give and receive pleasure was enough to make me lose my mind.

I would have to muster up whatever self-control I could.

I wasn’t fucked up, the methadone was keeping me straight. I’d remember every goddamn thing about her…the way she feels, the noises she makes, and the look in her eyes when she loses control.

I pulled away from her, patted the seat on my bike with one hand and adjusted my cock with the other. Poor thing was going to suffer for a while. I straddled my bike, revved the engine and waited for her to climb on behind me. After a quick glance to make sure she had her legs positioned right and her feet firmly planted on the pegs I tightened her arms around my middle.

“Where are we going?” She questioned against my ear.

“To heaven,” I called over my shoulder, pulling away from the curb.

Strange words coming from a man who’s been to hell more times than he could count.

But that’s exactly where we were headed.

A heaven where she was mine and I was hers.

After she texted me the address where to pick her up, I excused myself from dinner, told the guys I needed to handle something and without leaving room for questions I took off. I debated for about ten seconds what I would do with Lacey once I had her…it wasn’t like I could bring her to the clubhouse and after Christine died I gave up my apartment and moved my shit into my room at the Dog Pound.

I guess back then I didn’t bank on claiming daddy’s little girl.

So, with no other option, the decision was made I’d take her back to Staten Island and pray to God, it was the right move.

On the Verrazano Bridge she rested her head on my shoulder and I took one hand off the handlebars to touch her hand pressed against my shoulder.

“You okay?” I shouted into the dark night, against the wind and the sound of traffic, unsure if she even heard me.

She squeezed my hand, didn’t even attempt to holler an answer until we were at the toll booth, then she leaned into my ear.

“I’m so much better than okay,” she said.

I paid the toll and rode the expressway, getting off at the Todt Hill exit. As I veered off I questioned my plan and why I didn’t just take her to a hotel. But I knew why...she deserved better than that. She deserved the best I could give and taking her here, opening this part of myself, this was the best I could come up with.

Five minutes later I turned onto a dead end and pulled into the driveway of the last house on the block before killing the engine. I dropped the kickstand and braced myself as I stared up at the house.

“Blackie?”

I turned my head, reaching down to take her hands in mine.

“Hmm?”

“Where are we?”

I glanced back at the house, taking in the appearance of it and how the weeds and bushes grew so out of control, nearly covering up the windows on the first floor.

“Home,” I said hoarsely, clearing my throat before snapping out of the trance I was succumbing to. “Come on,” I urged, giving her knee a squeeze.

She climbed off the bike and remained at my side as I watched her take off the helmet and uncover her hair that was a mess, trying to tame the unruly strands.

I looked at her and was granted the strength I never could find before. I dismounted my bike, took her hand and tucked her against my side as we continued the length of the walkway.

“Careful,” I warned, tipping my chin toward the third step leading to the front door that was warped.

I could feel her eyes on me as I reached into my leather jacket and pulled out the keys, spinning the ring around my finger as I roughly threaded my fingers through my hair and cupped the back of my neck.

“I know you said this was home, but home should be a place you want to go to not somewhere you dread,” she whispered.

I looked at her.

“I want to be here. I want to be here with you,” I assured her. “I never expected to want to come back here or ever bring someone here…until you.”

My eyes lingered on her face.

How could something so perfect be here with me?

How could she be the one who breaths life back into me?

I turned around, fitted the key into the lock and pushed open the stiff door. I watched her step inside and I felt a lump work its way into my throat. I bought this house at a time in my life when Lacey didn’t exist in my world…sure, she was part of my life but she wasn’t my everything.