She looks away. “I wanted a drink.”
“Bullshit,” I argue and she huffs. When she remains silent, I add, “Adam called me?—”
She gives a rough laugh, getting to her heels. “I fucking knew it.”
“Eve—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She walks toward the door.
“Where the fuck are you going?” I bark, pushing off the dresser.
“The bar?—”
I grab a hold of her upper arm and yank her back, cutting her off. “No, you’re not.”
“Let go of me,” she growls, trying to push me away.
I shove her onto the bed, and she tries to kick me, but I manage to push her leg out of the way, grab her arm, and flip her onto her stomach. I graspboth of her arms and pin them behind her back. “What the fuck is wrong?” I demand.
Adam told me, but I want her to open up to me. She has about other parts of her life, why not this? Did he mean something to her? He said that she didn’t remember, but maybe she lied to him. Maybe she thought it meant something to him and when he explained it didn’t, it hurt her.
She softens under my hold, but I don’t fall for it. Instead, I hold her in place. If I let go, she’ll try to hit or kick me. Worse, I haven’t checked to see if she’s carrying. She might have a gun strapped to her chest for all I know. I don’t want to get shot tonight.
I lean over her body. “Eve?—”
She rises up and slams the back of her head into my face. I let go of her and stumble back as my vision is momentarily taken away from me. It doesn’t matter how lightly you get hit in the nose; it always makes your eyes water.
“Fuck,” I groan, cupping it to see if it’s bleeding.
The sound of the door slamming shut tells me she’s gone to the bar, because I’ve got Tyson’s car keys in my pocket. I guess she could hitchhike, but I’d put my money on her over any unlucky bastard who offers to give her a ride.
She’s still feeling emotions from the drugs that fucking bastard dropped on her thigh. I’ll have to fuck it out of her later. Tied up tightly with her cunt and ass stuffed should change her attitude quick.
I don’t follow her. Instead, I go to the bathroom and turn on the sink, grabbing a towel and getting it wet before holding it to my face. Glancing up, I remove it to look in the mirror, and I’m surprised that it’s not bleeding. She didn’t hit me as hard as she could have.
Good one, angel.
I smile, turning the water off and tossing the towel into the sink. My girl wants to play. I’ll make sure to play with her.
Exiting the room, I go to Tyson’s trunk and pop it open. “Bingo.” I smile to myself, reaching in and grabbing the bag. You can always count on a Lord to have the essentials on him at all times.
Closing the trunk, I make my way back into the motel room. I pull out my cell and go to my music. Seconds later, “Even If It Kills Me” by Papa Roach fills the small room.
I throw the bag onto the bed and unzip it. I’ll be ready to play with my girl when she gets back.
SEVENTY
EVERETT
“Can I have a bucket of ice?” I ask, sitting down at the bar as “Comedown” by Bush plays on the old speakers.
The bartender looks at me oddly, and I want to roll my eyes. Where the fuck is Missy when you need her? Probably still passed out at Adam’s house after getting punched in the face last night.
“Sure.” She finally nods, and I go to get cash out of my clutch but realize I left it in the motel room.
“Fuck,” I hiss. I could go get it but decide not to. He’s going to choke me out the moment I step back into that motel room.
Joke’s on him. I’m looking forward to it. The longer he simmers, the more pissed he’ll be.
