“Anything I can do to help?” Stocks asked, reminding me that although Havoc wasn’t here, I wasn’t exactly alone.
I stood up tall and let my training kick in, wrestling my emotions under control. “I’m fine, thank you,” I lied. “Actually, if you could get me a bottle of water from the fridge in the break room, that’d be great.”
He nodded and left, graciously giving me time to pull myself together. I had no delusions about my parents being saints, but even if they hadn’t been involved in the Kinlan’s crimes, they knew about them. They knew Wesley was involved, and they wanted me to go back to him. They were willing to force me back into the arms of that evil son-of-a-bitch to protect their precious business.
I’d rather rip off each of my fingernails and jam them into my eyes than live with him. I’d rather have the skin flayed from my body for a purse than climb back into bed with that devil.
As I was thinking of all the other things I’d rather do, the bell above the door chimed, and Satan himself walked in.
Julia
WESLEY’S EYES WERE different. Dilated. Peculiar. Crazed. His top lip curled up in a sneer as he marched toward me with heavy steps, his gait purposeful. I had to fight the urge to step back. Way back. In fact, I wanted to run and hide. The instinct felt foreign and strange since I’d never been afraid of him physically. My breath hitched, and my pulse quickened.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I asked, angry at the way my voice wavered. I cleared my throat. “You’re not welcome here, Wesley.”
“Julia?” Stocks asked, stepping into the room. His gaze shifted to Wesley. “Is everything okay?”
“Another one?” Wesley asked with a chuckle. “You sure like to slum with the biker trash, don’t you, you dirty little slut?”
“Hey!” Stocks shouted, approaching. “You don’t talk her like that, motherfucker.”
“Stay back,” Wesley warned.
Stocks kept coming. He made it three steps before a loud THWACK rang out. He dropped my water bottle. As it rolled across the floor, Stocks’s expression twisted with pain and his hands went to his stomach. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he said.
My heart leaped into my throat as I tried to figure out what had happened.
Wesley was holding a pistol with a silencer attached, pointing it at Stocks. I stared from the weapon to my bodyguard, unable to believe my eyes. Stocks wobbled and leaned against the counter. Keeping one hand on his stomach, he used the other to pull himself down the counter toward Wesley.
“You want another one?” Wesley asked. “Just keep coming.”
“No!” I shouted, easing toward my ex with my hands up in surrender. “No. Please, Wesley. He’s… You… Stay there, Stocks. Don’t come any closer. What… what do you want, Wesley? Why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I came for what’s mine.” His gaze raked over my body, making me feel woozy and vulnerable. Or maybe that feeling came from the fact he was holding a gun and had just shot Stocks. “For what’s always been mine.”
I wanted to argue, to scream, to tell him to go jump into the Puget Sound and swim until he reached China, but the gun in his hand, and the look in his eyes, silenced me. Swallowing past my suddenly dry throat, I kept my mouth shut.
“You thought you could threaten me into leaving you alone, but you forget that nobody knows you like I do. I know what you really want. You showed me the way you like to be treated, the way you like to be fucked. You let that filthy biker fuck you like a prostitute, and you loved it. Why didn’t you ever tell me that’s what you wanted? That you wanted me in charge. In control. I get it now, Julia. You thought I was a pussy—that I wasn’t man enough for you—but let me reassure you, I am.” He gestured with the pistol toward Stocks. “Need another demonstration?”
My stomach clenched. “No. Please. I can see that you’re not a pussy now. You’ve proven it.” I needed to get him away from Stocks before he did more damage. “You came for what’s yours? Fine. Take me.”
“Julia, no,” Stocks argued, his voice weak. He was leaning heavily on the counter as blood coated the fingers covering his wound. I wanted to go to him and do something to stop the bleeding, but knew that would be a bad idea. The merciless look in Wesley’s eyes left little doubt as to what would happen if I showed Stocks compassion.
“Who the hell are you to her?” Wesley asked him.
“Nobody. He means nothing to me.” I reluctantly closed the last of the distance between me and Wesley, settling my hand on his arm while my heart tried to pound out of my chest, and my stomach roiled. “Just a bodyguard, and obviously not a good one since he couldn’t protect me. You’re right. This whole thing with the biker was a test. I wanted you to man up and show me how savage you could be. I like it rough.”
Knees knocking, lips dry, I hoped I looked more convincing than I felt.
Wesley stared at me.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Stocks. The color was draining from his face, but he was still trying to move forward. To stop Wesley. He’d die, and I couldn’t let that happen.
Swallowing back bile, I leaned in and kissed Wesley’s cheek. Then I whispered in his ear, “Now take me home and show me how rough you can get.”
I knew I was signing my own death warrant. Wesley would try to take me up on my offer, and there was no way in hell I’d let him. Desire flared his nostrils and darkened his eyes as he wrapped an arm around my waist and tucked his gun inside his jacket.
Relieved, that he’d put the weapon away, I let out a breath.
