Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)(3)

I’m a selfish motherf*cker.

A greedy son-of-a-bitch.

I’m a junkie and when drugs no longer do it for me I’ll get high on pain and suffering. My own.

Hers.

And all the faceless men that will one day try to take her from me.

I finished my drink, paid my tab and walked over to the nomads hanging around the pool table, a new group of brother’s that were patched into our charter of the Satan’s Knights. My eyes zeroed in on Stryker’s as his peered back at me questioningly, trying to figure me out. The poor bastard had no idea what he signed up for. None of them did. I said my goodbyes and made my way out of the bar, letting the cool breeze blow over me as I walked towards the parking lot.

I could feel the high start to work me over as I strode to my bike and thought the drugs were finally kicking in but it wasn’t the manufactured shit that called to me.

It was her.

Her voice.

Her cries.

I closed my eyes as they consumed me, pulling me away from my surroundings and into a world where only she existed.

“Get off of me! Please! Someone help!”

So real.

I opened my eyes.

“Fucking bitch. Get the f*ck back here!”

So f*cking real.

My eyes drifted across the lot to where the sounds were coming from and the sobering image of my Lacey struggling to crawl out of a car, screaming into the dark parking lot for someone to help her.

Fuck no.

Hell motherf*cking no.

I felt my fists clench at my sides, my breath quicken and my heart rocket against my chest cavity as my boots pounded the tar of the parking lot. I reached the driver’s side of the car, yanked opened the door and reached for the cocksucker leaning over the console, pulling Lacey’s hair. His f*cking pants were around his ankles and his dick was hard when I pulled him off her and slammed him against the side of the car.

“What the f*ck?” he sneered.

“Motherf*cker, you know what no means? Huh?” I shouted as my fist collided with his jaw. The adrenaline soaring in my veins as I pummeled his face with my fist.

“No, stop!” He cried. “Shit, I’m sorry! Help!”

I grabbed him by his ears and threw him onto the ground, wedging my boot between his legs, crushing his balls.

“Blackie!” Lacey shouted.

“C’mon motherf*cker, cry for me. Cry like the bitch you are,” I demanded, grabbing his hair and slammed his skull against the pavement.

“CRY!” I shouted, lifting him by the ears and crashed his head against the ground again.

“WEEP MOTHERFUCKER!”

Blood poured from his mouth, his nose and the back of his head as his eyes stared back at me wide with terror. I tugged his face close to mine, his blood dripping onto my hands as I leaned close and looked into his eyes that were half closed.

“Open your f*cking eyes. Look at me!” I ordered.

“Blackie, the cops are coming! Please stop!” Lacey shrieked from somewhere behind me.

“Blackie man, you need to get the f*ck out of here. Let’s go,” Stryker called.

Voices surrounded me, yelling at me, warning me, but I ignored them all.

“LOOK AT ME!” I shouted, yanking on his ears until he struggled to meet my gaze.

“You see this face? Remember it. I’m the one who f*cking did this to you,” I hissed, before slamming the back of his head against the ground.

The voices faded.

The sirens faded.

All I heard was the sound of bones shattering and the cries of a man dying.

Someone grabbed me from behind, pulling me off him and yanked my hands behind my back. I tore my eyes away from the body on the floor and took in my surroundings as I felt the cold metal tighten around my wrists.

“Dominic Petra, you are under arrest,” Officer Brantley’s voice sounded in my ear. “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney…”

He continued to read me my rights as my eyes locked with Lacey’s.

Dark and dull, wrecked and ruined. My beautiful innocent Lacey tainted by my selfish sadistic ways, stared back at me. I watched the tears fall down her cheeks, each droplet another mark. Those tears were as much mine as everything else about her was.

Mine.

Always mine.

Leather.

Lace.

Me.

Her.

So f*cking tempting.

So f*cking lethal.





Chapter One





7 Months ago


I’m a masochist, a man who gets off on inflicting pain on himself. I’m my own worst enemy. I’ve f*cked myself more times than any rival club or gangbanger ever could. I had a shaky past with drugs, been trading one f*cking addiction for another since I was a rebellious teenager. So when I offered to be the drug man in an operation Jack Parrish the president of the Satan’s Knights orchestrated with a psychotic gangster, I knew I was sealing my own fate.

“I might not have him where I want him but there’s one advantage I have over him, over you, over everyone in this goddamn club. I know drugs, man. I know their worth and their consequence. I know how to make them desirable and I know how to make them your enemy. I will have Jimmy Gold high on my promise before he or his streets are high on the product.”

What I didn’t expect was that it would all come crashing down so soon. The reputed mob boss, Victor Pastore, got himself carted off to prison, doing a lifetime bid, and the sick f*ck sitting across from me was now in charge of all Vic’s operations.