Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)(26)
“Yes.”
“You about over the whole Jack being Danny’s brother thing? I mean when you get the f*ck out of here you’re not going to hold some sort of grudge over the man’s head are you?”
It was time for me to pass the torch to Reina. It was time for her to battle Jack’s demons with him, it was her job to wear down his maker.
“I’m over it,” Reina stated “I don’t like being lied to, but…” she attempted to shrug her shoulders.
“I love him,” she whispered.
Love.
It keeps us holding on.
Even when we don’t know we’ve got it.
Even when we don’t know we have a little left in us to give.
It’s one of the divine gifts.
One of the few.
“Hold onto that, what you feel for him, it’ll help,” I said.
She stared at me silent for a moment before she spoke.
“What are you holding on to?” she asked hoarsely.
I looked away as Christine whispered all the words I never knew I needed to hear.
Let me go Blackie.
It’s time.
It’s not too late to change.
Change your life.
You did it once before.
You did it for me.
Change your life.
Do it for her.
But mostly, do it for you.
You.
“Which question do you want me to answer? Where I went after I dropped you off or what I’m holding on to?” I asked, finally.
“Something tells me both questions have the same answer,” she said, softly.
“Yeah,” I agreed, diverting my eyes to the floor.
A memory flashed before my eyes, the same memory I struggled to remember this morning when I held Lacey in my arms and she asked me if I remembered the first time she called me Leather.
I don’t know why the memory came now, but it did and when I needed it the most.
“Lace? Oh we’re doing the nickname thing?” She said mockingly, like a true smart ass. She was insisting I take a sip of her milkshake. “Fine. C’mon Leather, live dangerously,” she teased.
“Leather?” I asked.
“Leather and Lace. You and me,” she affirmed as she smiled at me.
That smile.
Man, I was gone.
She had the power to heal me, even if it was only temporary.
I lifted my eyes back to Reina’s.
“Leather and Lace,” I whispered.
Because the idea of me and her—it was all I had left.
The door opened, jarring the both of us and we turned our eyes to one of Jimmy’s men. He carried a leather pouch tucked under his arm and knelt before me. He unzipped the bag and pulled a vile out, followed by a syringe.
Lace.
Her.
He roughly grabbed my outstretched arm and tied a band around it.
“Don’t,” Reina yelled. “Can’t you see he’s not a threat to you people? Why are you doing this to him?”
I turned my head to Reina, but all I saw was Lacey’s face. My angel with the sweet smile and sad eyes.
“It’s all good, Reina,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek.
“Leather and lace,” Reina whispered as the needle pricked my skin.
I closed my eyes and remembered dancing with her, holding her close as we blocked out the rest of the world.
A world where there was no maker.
A world where there were no drugs.
And Jimmy f*cking Gold didn’t exist.
The heroin took over.
Fight.
For her.
“Leather and lace,” I slurred, fighting with every fiber of my being to get those words out.
Her.
Chapter Eight
I used to think drugs took me to heaven, and if I’m being honest, when shit gets rough, I look for the easy way out. I’ll hit the bottle and think I’m escaping hell. The truth is drugs are my hell; they numb the pain for a while but if I don’t stay high all the time eventually I wake up, the numbness fades and the pain is only intensified. It’s not just the mental pain that is worse but it’s the physical pain which wasn’t there before the drugs, but is present now. A pain so severe you forget about the original demons that haunt you and lead you to the drugs, a pain that tears through you and makes you wish were dead. It’s a pain you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.
Well, maybe that isn’t entirely true.
I wish worse for Jimmy Gold.
A whole lot worse.
I’d like to cut his dick off and feed it to him as he bled out.
I hear his voice and decide that I’d rip the cocksucker’s dick off with a pair of dirty pliers.
“Should we give him another hit?” One of his men asked.
Him? He’s going to get his eyes ripped from their sockets with an ice cream scoop, or maybe a melon baller. Fuck that, I’ll carve them out with my knife.
“Not yet,” Jimmy murmured, crouching down before me as he took my face in his hands. “Time to give your president a message,” he said, slapping my cheeks. “Take the cuffs off him,” he ordered to the man standing behind him.
One of the first times Jack found me f*cked up he smacked me across the face and told me to stand up. I remember thinking it was physically impossible and refused. You don’t refuse Jack Parrish. Ever. He pulled me to my feet, holding me under my arms until I found my balance.