Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(54)

“If you ever need us, or not, and just want to shoot the shit or play some pool…give me a call.”

“You mean you might actually pick up the phone if I call?” I jab with a smile on my face. Trying to cut the awkward tension surrounding the foreignness of our bonding.

“We’ll see. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he jokes laughing.

The elevator doors open, and the garage is empty of police.

Shadow leans over and opens the passenger door of the SUV, urging Lip to get in.

“Later, bro.”

“Later,” I whisper.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


Jillian



RIDING ON THE BACK OF ZEEK’S BIKE, his getback whips flow with the wind. My hands wrap tightly around his frame, so tightly I’m not sure he can breathe. So many things are running through my mind as we head to what looks like my place. The pregnancy, me getting my job back, my mother, talking to Alessandra. But most of all, Cross. I have this gut clenching feeling he’ll be back. I’m not easily scared, sure I’ve been frightened the last few days, but the terror rising up my spine is in a category of its own.

Zeek pulls into my driveway, and turns the bike off. Kicking the kickstand, he swings his leg off and holds his hand out to take mine, helping me off.

“Thank you,” I reply.

His face is red, veins protruding on his strained neck. He paces, his nostrils flaring like a pissed off bull.

I bite my lip not sure what to say or do.

“Zeek?” He turns quickly and grips both sides of my face.

“I’ll kill that motherf*cker, I promise. He thinks he can run? I will find him, and I will slit his throat.” His eyes dilate, his fingers unintentionally digging into my cheeks. “Do you believe I’ll protect you?”

I nod, my exhale shaky. Pulling my head forward he smashes his lips to my forehead. His soft lips against my skin searing my heart and soul together. We sit there just like that for a few minutes, not wanting to let the other go.

Finally breaking apart, I unlock the door and freeze. It looks like I’ve been robbed. Wait, no, everything is still here. There are clothes strung everywhere, I lean down to pick up a piece of clothing up that I don’t recognize.

“What the hell?”

“Shit.” Zeek grabs the pair of red boxers from my hand and starts snatching up pieces of clothing thrown around my living room.

“Umm, do you know who this stuff belongs to?”

Jinx meows, skidding on his claws as he sprints into the living room and right to me. Hunching down, I coo at him as he rubs against me, meowing like crazy. He missed me.

“I asked Machete to look after Jinx, I didn’t know he took that as an invitation to stay here.” He runs his palm down his face, looking around at the empty Mountain Dew cans. “I’m really sorry, I’ll call his ass to come clean this mess up.”

I wave my hand at him. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do if he took care of my cat.”

Zeek’s forehead wrinkles. “You sure?”

Standing up I scratch between Jinx’s ears as I bring him up to me. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

He smiles, heading toward me. Using his index finger he rubs the patch of velvet on Jinx’s nose.

“I see Devil cat missed you.”

“He didn’t mean that,” I whisper into Jinx’s ear, as I nuzzle him closely.

Zeek gives a condescending smile. “Oh, but I did.”

Letting Jinx down, putting my hands on my hips I look around the dirty house. It’s going to drive me nuts until it’s cleaned.

Zeek threads his thick fingers with mine, pulling me from the mess. Where his rough palm touches mine, a tingly warmth spreads up my arm. It’s sexy knowing my man has rough hands, it’s masculine. “Don’t worry about the house, we have a lot of shit we gotta work through first, it can wait.”

“Where are you taking me?”

He flips the lights on in the bathroom, sits on the toilet and starts running water for a bath.

“We’re going to take a bath, when we’re both naked and in a tub of bubbles we seem to make better sense of shit.”

He pours in a bunch of bubbles, the sprinkle smelling kind and uses his feet to kick off his boots.

I nibble on my nails, stalling. I know climbing in that bath, everything is going to surface. Things I’m nervous as hell to tread through. Like the pregnancy, and Cross. After everything that has happened, I just want to climb in bed, throw the sheet over our heads, and hide from the world.

Pulling his shirt over his head, he steps toward me. His strong fingers grabbing the hem of the button up shirt that is too big for me, and slides it up over my head. A whimper falls from my lips as the material slides along my grazed arm. The soft fabric feeling like razor blades as it passes.

“It’ll hurt for a while.” His stare is intense, as he looks it over. His fingers trail under the elastic bands of my bra, his eyes looking my breast over before meeting my eyes.

I turn, and he unclasps my bra like a pro. It’s unsettling how quick he is.

Hooking his hands in the waistband of my pants he pulls them and my panties down. When they pool at my feet, I kick my boots off. Standing there naked, a chill runs up my body. I rub at my arms, and look in the mirror. My eyes fall to my midsection. I don’t look pregnant. Zeek’s eyes reflect in the mirror as he looks at what I’m looking at, we’re both thinking the same thing.