“Stay alive,” I answer. “And you can’t do that if you’re out there getting stabbed.”
She snorts. “Jesus Christ, Tyson. That is such bullshit, and you know it.” She angrily shoves her shorts down her legs, unsnaps her leotard, kicks off her shoes along with her fishnets, throwing them to the floor. Standing naked behind me, I turn to look at her.
My eyes drop to the fresh wound on her side. Gavin said her stitches would dissolve, so she doesn’t need them removed, but it’s still red and bruised. Walking over to the bed, she yanks back the covers and crawls into it. She jerks them up to cover her body and glares at me with her arms crossed over her chest.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a sigh.
“This is what you want me to do, right? Wait here naked for you?” She arches a dark brow, and I fist my hands. “Why don’t you just tie me down and leave me here until you’re ready to use me.”
“Laikyn,” I growl, irritated with her and myself. She thinks that way because that’s the way I’ve treated her.
“That’s what I’m good for.” She shrugs. “Except don’t knock me up.” Giving a rough laugh, she adds, “Because I’m not good enough to birth Tyson Crawford’s child.”
“Lake!” I bark.
“But my sister was,” she goes on. “She was good enough to fuck and knock up.”
I run a hand down my unshaven face. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have forced me to marry you.” She shrugs. “Then you’d be free to fuck whoever you want.”
I want to rush over to the bed, wrap my hand around her neck, and strangle her. Tie her to the bed and leave her there while I go to work, knowing when I return, she’ll be begging me to fuck her. But I can’t. Not now.
So instead, I turn and exit the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me, and head to my office.
LAIKYN
He turnedand walked out of the bedroom. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Or why I fucking care. After I saw him kill that guy down in the basement, I wanted a fight. Something about the way he killed him for me makes me question everything.
It wasn’t like when he killed Walter because he touched me, or Collin because I sat on his lap. It was … different. It wasn’t adon’t touch what’s mine. It was ayou hurt what’s mine, and I’m going to make you pay for it.
I hate how much it made me feel loved. Violence does not equal love. A Lord kills for his fucking oath, that doesn’t mean he loves it. But I’ve never seen a Lord hate what he does. They’ve been conditioned from a young age to accept torture and death as their life. Their grandfathers did it and they watched their fathers do it.
In a world full of evil, they are taught to be the best.
So I tried to piss him off. Afraid he’d know that I saw him downstairs. That I might think he actually cares about me. It’s stupid, really. To think he’d care what I feel anyway.
Getting up, I hear my phone ding. I open it up to see it’s a text.
BLAKELY: Hey, girl. How are you doing today?
She and Ellington have both been texting me ever since I was stabbed. I’m guessing Tyson told Ryat and Easton what happened. Then they told their wives.
ME: Good.
What else is there to say?Hey, I’m doing great. Just got fired from my job and now I’m pretty much on house arrest because my husband thinks someone wants to kill me. But he hasn’t told me that. I just overheard him while he was killing a guy.
It pings again.
BLAKELY: That’s great to hear. Let me know when you’re feeling better and want to get out and about. I’ve still got to do some shopping for the babies, and I owe you a lunch.
Biting my bottom lip, I try to think of how to respond to her. I can’t go out and be seen with her, or anyone for that matter. Not after what I heard that guy say to Tyson earlier. I can’t put anyone else in danger. Ryat already threatened me. I’d never be able to live with myself if anything happened to her or the babies because of me. I’d let Ryat kill me if I was the reason something happened to his wife.
I start to type back a response to tell her that I’m not sure I’m ready to go out just yet but stop myself. My heart beginning to race. “Shit!” I never told Tyson about the pictures on my other phone that’s in my locker.
Hurrying out of bed, I throw on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top and then run downstairs. I run into the locker room and unlock it. Yanking the door open, I freeze when I see the phone isn’t in there.
Where the fuck did it go? I know I put it back in there after I charged it long enough to come on. It’s been ten days since I saw it. I haven’t been in here since then.
