“What the fuck do you mean ‘what’? Enough’s enough, man. Look at the fucking state of your hands.”
I look down at them. And sure enough, the wrapping’s soaked with blood.
“Fuck.”
“Go get cleaned up. If they need stitches, I’m taking you to the ER.”
“They won’t need stitches,” I grunt.
“Yeah, we’ll fucking see.”
“I thought Havoc was gonna convince Lil to take over the clinic.”
Capone shrugs, so I let it go. Right now, I don’t care. Turns out I don’t care much about anything anymore.
I start unwrapping my hands as I head to the changing room, the blood drying and the fabric sticking to my skin. The sting doesn’t register. Not anymore.
The asshole follows me.
“Planning on holding my dick for me?” I snap, pulling off my T-shirt as I reach my locker.
“Even if I swung that way, you’d be the last dick I’d be interested in.”
I ignore him and strip off the rest of my clothes before grabbing a towel and heading to the showers. Turning the water on, I stand under the spray and tip my head back, letting it wash over me. It doesn’t matter how many showers I take, though. They never wash my sins clean.
When I’m finished, I turn off the water and dry myself, wrapping the towel around my waist. Walking back to my locker, I curse when I see Capone still there waiting for me.
“Did you just come to watch, or did you actually want something?”
He grits his teeth as I get dressed and then pull my cut on.
“Something’s going on with Havoc.”
I look at him sharply. “Like what?”
“Don’t know. Not my business unless he makes it that way. But he and Tink are heading up to see Hannibal. They’re taking Circus and Kruger with them,” he adds before I can ask.
“Probably something to do with Lola.”
“You don’t know that.”
I snort. “Trust me, it’s always fucking bitches causing issues.”
He shakes his head, looking pissed. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are anymore.” He turns and walks away, finally.
I slam my locker shut and grip my hair in frustration. I know I’m being a dick, but I don’t know how to be anything else rightnow. I’m just pissed—pissed at Legs, pissed at myself, pissed at the whole fucking world.
I storm out of the gym, past Capone, who ignores me, and head over to my bike. Climbing on, I start the engine and ride to Au. I’ve been opening up late because, without Legs, I don’t have anyone to open. I could grab a prospect, but with Dice still recouping, we’re down a man. I’m hoping the two new recruits will help.
I open the door and stand there for a minute as a million memories slam into me. Legs sitting behind the counter laughing, Legs bent over my desk with my dick inside her. Legs walking around with a duster in her hand, putting out new stock, smiling when I walk in. She’s everywhere I look, burned into every corner, and I fucking love it just as much as I hate it.
I swear to fuck I can still smell her. I don’t know if it’s real or if I’m losing my goddamned mind.
Shaking my head, I throw my backpack in my office, which is a fucking mess now that she’s gone, and slam the door shut. I head out front and wait. An hour passes before my first customer comes in, and by then, my thoughts have been eating me alive, and my patience is shot.
A woman walks in, and for a moment, I freeze. She has her head down as she looks for something in her bag, her long blonde hair covering her face. I stand up and hurry around the counter.
“Legs?”
