Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)(7)

“Your old man ain’t here, go home,” I clipped, peeling my eyes off of her as I walked around the bar, sniffling from the coke and itching for a drink. I pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf before reaching for a glass and filling it with the amber liquid. I placed the bottle on top of the bar and lifted the glass to my lips, knocking back the liquid in three gulps.

I set the empty glass down and she was in front of me, her eyes bored into mine and as much as I wanted to look away I couldn’t.

“Lace, I’m not in the mood, so why don’t you go on and tell me what you need that way you can get the f*ck out of here,” I slurred, watching as her eyes widened at the tone I took with her.

Fuck.

I ran my fingers roughly through my hair, teetering on the edge of insanity, hating the way she was looking at me.

Quit looking at me like I’m something when I’m nothing.

“What’s the matter, Lace? You didn’t know your favorite Knight got down like this?” I sneered.

“Oh, I knew,” she quickly said, pulling out one of the stools before she took a seat.

Great, she was sticking around.

“I never saw it firsthand before is all,” she added, softly as her teeth dug into her bottom lip and continued staring at me.

I leaned over the bar, so she could get a better look at me and see how truly f*cked I was. I wanted to scare her, to make her run the f*ck away from me before I lost the little control I was hanging onto.

“Get out of here Lace, run the f*ck away and don’t turn back,” I warned her, leaning back and refilled my glass.

“I have nowhere else to go,” she whispered.

Her broken voice and the words she uttered forced me to look back at her and through my hazed eyes I noticed the pain in hers. Lacey was the girl who lit up a room with her smile but, staring at her now, seeing how tortured her eyes were, made me wonder if the smile was a mask. And then Jack’s voice worked its way inside my head, reminding me that today was Jack Jr.’s birthday and he went off on a mission to wallow in his own misery.

“If Lacey comes around or calls…”

“Shit,” I mumbled. “Buying her an ice cream cone and pretending the world is a giant playground don’t work no more for her.”

He smiled proudly. “Girl’s all grown up.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

God or whoever the f*ck was responsible, made it real f*cking hard for me to ignore Lacey had grown up. He gave her a f*cking body that made you want to drop to your knees and worship. Jack would’ve shot me dead if he knew the thoughts that sometimes ran through my head or the way I couldn’t help but look at her.

She was f*cking beautiful.

And sweet, so goddamn sweet.

Fucking lethal was what she was.

Wasn’t that what I was looking for?

“Your pretty little face doesn’t belong here,” I grunted, reaching across the bar to tuck a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

I was jonesing.

Not for drugs, not even alcohol.

I was jonesing for her.

For Lace.

I snapped my hand back, tore my eyes from her as I walked around the bar, taking a seat next to her. She lifted my glass to her lips and took a sip, cringing immediately.

“How do you drink that?” She asked in between coughing, shoving the glass back at me.

“Why the sad eyes?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?”

“Cut the shit,” I clipped, reaching out for her again, this time lifting her chin with my index finger.

Touch.

I wanted to touch her.

I needed it.

I shook my head, raging against the need, trying to convince myself that it was the drugs f*cking with me. I wanted to believe that deep inside me I was a good guy, that I had morals, maybe not many but enough to know touching her was f*cking wrong.

So f*cking wrong.

“You know what today is don’t you?” She asked, looking away for a moment before she turned back “Yeah,” I muttered, staring at her lower lip as it quivered slightly. “I know. Is that why you’re here? Checking in on your old man?”

She lifted her eyes to mine.

“No,” she whispered.

“Then tell me why.”

She remained quiet as she studied my features. I opened my mouth to speak, but she shook her head, cocking it to the side as she laid her hand on my thigh and leaned close.

“Does it ever go away?” She asked barely audible.

I glanced down at her hand and closed my eyes as it burned a hole in my jeans, lighting my whole body on fire.

Drugs man, they’ll f*cking ruin you.

Wreck you.

Destroy you.

I shoved her hand away, narrowing my eyes at her.

“What are you doing, Lace?”

“I asked you a question,” she said, her hand closing over my wrist. “Does it ever go away? Tell me it goes away Blackie, tell me this isn’t it,” she whispered, her eyes pleading with mine.

“Does what go away?”

“The pain,” she replied, tightening her hold on my wrist as she peered at me. “It doesn’t,” she said, answering her own question. “Look at you,” she added. “The pain never left you. It’s written all over your face, it’s there, alive in your eyes but the rest of you is dead.”