The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)(41)

“Oh, God,” she whispers loudly, throwing her head back in ecstasy. I stop and wait for her reply. “You,” she says, trying to ride my hand.

“That’s right,” I agree, pulling my finger from her and slamming my cock back in its place, the contact making her moan, it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

She wraps her legs around my hips and meets my thrusts with her own, the tightening in my balls returning as I continue to slide in and out of her.

“I’ve always loved you,” she moans, her voice soft with pleasure. I feel her walls squeeze my dick like a vise as her light moan heightens to a full-out animalistic growl. With that, my knees begin to tremble as my balls tug and I come. I come so f*cking hard. I feel like my dick may explode. I growl at the empowering feeling of release and collapse onto her chest, our bodies heaving from the exertion and emotional rollercoaster we put each other on.

I lift myself from her body and roll over onto the dead grass.

We lay there out of breath, staring at the blue sky and passing clouds, when my phone rings.

“Shit.” I dart up, looking for my jeans. I find them inside out and thrust my hand into the pocket to pull out my phone.

“What’s up?” I question, trying to steady my breathing.

“It’s Babs,” Bull says.

“What about her?” I ask a little irritated at his vagueness.

“She’s in the hospital.” I look at Dani who senses something is wrong by the look on her face.

“What happened?” I question, still looking at Dani.

“Hit and run. Get your ass to the club, now,” he commands before hanging up.


Dani

The ride to the clubhouse is quick and hurried. I can feel the tension building in Shadow’s arms the closer we get. Apparently, Babs is in the hospital from a hit and run. I can’t believe it; this world is turning to crap. Shadow reaches back and places his hand on my leg, claiming me as his. I can’t help the smile which runs across my face. Feeling this connection once again with Shadow is the best Heaven Hell has to offer.

We pull into the club and hop off the bike. Looking around, I notice a lot of bikes and cars all parked randomly across the yard.

“Let’s get in there,” Shadow says, pushing me by the small of my back.

Walking in the club’s doors, I spot the girls by the bar. I notice Cherry crying and sniffling on a bar stool as Vera sits on the other side, smoking a cigarette. Vera’s not crying but you can sense her unease by the look on her face. She has this scowl that narrows her whole face downward.

“I’ll be out in a bit,” Shadow states, giving my butt cheek a slap as he kisses me passionately, not caring the whole club sees his display of affection. I hate how I feel on cloud nine as a terrible situation is unfolding in front of us.

“Looks like you and lover boy are back to good graces,” Vera smarts as she blows cigarette smoke into the air.

I just give her a kind smile and sit next to Cherry. She is slumped forward with her hands in her strawberry-colored hair, which is acting as a curtain, shielding her face from everyone.

“It’s so awful,” Cherry whines, turning toward me. Her eyes are red and puffy while mascara is smeared down her face.

I rub her back and give a half-smile. “She’s going to be okay,” I reassure her.

“She’s in a f*cking coma. How is she going to be okay?” Vera spits.

“She’s in a coma?” I ask shocked, hearing that information for the first time.

“They found her in the street with bags of chips everywhere in a mangled mess. She’s got a heartbeat, but is in a coma,” Vera explains, lighting a cigarette with a cigarette.

“Shit,” I say, thinking about poor Babs.

“You know who did this,” Cherry declares, looking at Vera.

“Shut the f*ck up, Cherry. You don’t know shit,” Vera demands, slamming one of the cigarettes in an ashtray.

Cherry slumps forward again and begins to sob. I give Vera a confused look as she stares back at me with an angry one.

“Who?” I ask, curious who Cherry thinks did this to Babs.

“Nobody,” Vera snaps.





SHADOW


“So, we don’t know who hit her?” I ask Locks across the table and everyone looks at him, waiting for his reply.

He looks at the floor. “I don’t know, probably just some drunk not paying attention,” he responds casually. I can’t help the look of uncertainty on my face. Why isn’t he freaking out, screaming for the blood of the person who did this to his ol’ lady?

“What did the cops say?” Bull asks, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Oh, you know, the same bullshit they tell everyone,” Locks replies, rubbing his beard.

“Which is what?” I push, irritated.

Locks looks at me, his blonde and white speckled mustache twitching with irritation. “That they will do their best.”

“Who found her?” Bobby asks.

“Some passerby,” Bull answers.

“Any video surveillance around the area?” Old Guy wonders.

“Yes. But it only shows a white car speeding like a bat out of Hell. Can’t see anything but a white blur,” Locks rambles, his voice wobbly with excitement.