Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)(90)

I pushed again and this time his hands found my hips and pushed me back against the fabric of the seat. I felt the hardness of his dick against my leg and knew I was in trouble. I turned my head, pulling my mouth away from his.

“Brandon, stop! I don’t want to do this,” I protested.

“Yes you do,” he insisted as he ripped my shirt open. “I’ll make you forget that old f*ck ever existed,” he growled as he dipped his head and his mouth closed over the lace that covered my nipple.

I closed my eyes, forced myself not to cry and reached for the unlock button on the door.

His hands moved to my jeans just as I opened the door and screamed.

“Help!”

“What the f*ck do you think you’re doing?” Brandon growled, grabbing my legs as I tried to scramble out the door.

“Get off of me! Please! Someone help!” I shouted as he dragged me back.

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

Tears streamed down my face as panic and fear set in.

“Please!” I screamed into the dark parking lot.

I let out a shrill cry as Brandon grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me backward. Then he released my hair, and I fell face down and half way out of the car.

“What the f*ck?” he sneered.

“Motherf*cker, you know what no means? Huh?” Blackie shouted.

Blackie.

My knight.

The man that always rides to my rescue.

I crawled out of the car, stumbling onto my feet and turned around as tears clouded my eyes and I watched as Blackie reared his fists back and attacked Brandon.

“No, stop!” Brandon cried, his pants around his ankles as Blackie bloodied his face with one shot after another. “Shit, I’m sorry! Help!”

I watched in horror as Blackie grabbed Brandon by his ears and threw him onto the ground, wedging a boot between his legs. Brandon wailed as blood poured from every crevice of his face.

“Blackie!” I shouted.

He was going to kill him.

“C’mon motherf*cker, cry for me. Cry like the bitch you are,” Blackie demanded as he pounded the back of Brandon’s skull against the asphalt.

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

“WEEP MOTHERFUCKER!”

There was blood everywhere.

So much blood.

“Open your f*cking eyes. Look at me!” Blackie ordered, as a siren sounded from somewhere close by. I glanced around the parking lot and saw people running from the bar towards us.

“Blackie, the cops are coming! Please stop!” I shrieked.

Stryker and two of the other guys ran up beside him and tried to pull him off Brandon but Blackie wasn’t having it. There was nothing and no one that could stop him.

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

“LOOK AT ME!” Blackie shouted.

This is all your fault.

Look what you did.

I closed my eyes and let out a scream that vibrated through my ears.

Make it stop.

“You see this face? Remember it. I’m the one who f*cking did this to you,” Blackie snarled, just as I opened my eyes and watched him slam the back of Brandon’s head against the ground.

The moment Blackie released his hold on Brandon the world stopped for us.

Two lost souls died.

Two broken hearts stopped beating.

And the higher power writing our story typed the two words you dread.

The End.

One of the cops grabbed Blackie’s arms and forced them behind his back as he lifted his eyes from Brandon’s body and stared at me, baring his soul to me.

I love you.

It was reflected in his sorrowful eyes.

Along with every word scribed of the story of us.

I felt the scream throughout my body but couldn’t hear it all I could hear was the officer read him his rights and confirm it was all over.

Lovers forever.

Blackie and Lacey.





Chapter Thirty-one





I can still hear her pleas for help and the image of her crawling out of the car only for that motherf*cker to drag her back in— it consumes my mind. I close my eyes and I can see the tortured expression on her face as Brantley slapped cuffs on my wrists and read me my rights.

I’ve experienced a lot of shit in my life, felt all sorts of f*cked up things I wasn’t used to feeling…like sorrow, like remorse, but what I felt when I beat the f*ck out of that kid was something entirely different. I wasn’t a man fighting for his club, or an outlaw looking to be a menace. I was a man fighting for his woman and in that instant I was capable of anything.

There was no remorse for my actions.

I’d do it all over again.

And again.

I swore I’d never touch her again, told myself I was no good for her, and she wasn’t safe because of me.

I thought giving her up was the answer.

But watching her with another man, seeing another motherf*cker try to take what was mine, made me realize I was wrong.

I might be a degenerate, a dangerous son of a bitch with a shitload of problems but I love Lacey and there’s not a thing on Earth I won’t do for her.

Not a f*cking thing.