Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(47)

He could do this. He could touch her and it would only be about her and him and no one else. Just her, just him…just her…

Fuck.

He spun away, cursing, and headed for the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he stripped off his clothes, stepped inside, and stood under the spray of hot water, his eyes squeezed shut, wishing, praying for the strength to put his family back together.

Preacher might be the biggest dick to ever walk the earth, but he’d been right about one thing. If he took off, left in the middle of the mess Frankie had made of his club, everything would fall to ruin in his wake.

He had to fix this shit.

He just didn’t know how.

Deuce had never been any good at cleaning up messes. Usually he just ignored them, moved the f*ck on, and eventually forgot about them. Or at least tried to forget about them. There were some he’d never been able to let go of. The biggest one being the beautiful woman sleeping on his side of the bed. Eva had been the best mess he’d ever made and now…

He was still making a mess of things between them.

Then, as if she knew, as if she could feel how badly he was aching for her, the shower door clicked open and Eva stood naked before him. His eyes skimmed her body, her heavy breasts and perfect curves, and he hardened instantly, wanting her.

“Can I join you?” she whispered.

He nodded, moving aside to let her in and she stepped inside, filling the small space he’d allowed her.

They stared at each other. Her looking up at him with those big gray eyes filled with pain and confusion and so much wanting, and him, looking down at her, watching her hair flatten against her cheeks and shoulders as the water poured over her.

“I f*cked up, Eva,” he hoarsely blurted out. “I got into it with your old man. I was feelin’ shitty and pissed off and I tried to f*ck some bitch but—”

He never saw it coming.

Eva’s fist slammed into his jaw with an audible crack and his head whipped right.

“Fuck,” he muttered, cupping his jaw.

“You f*cking piece of shit!” she screamed, spinning around and kicking open the shower door.

He lunged for her, grabbing hold of her wrists as he propelled them both across the bathroom. Belly first, he pinned her up against the wall and bent his head to her ear.

“I couldn’t do it,” he growled. “I didn’t even want to.”

“You’re never going to stop!” she cried, struggling against his grip. “You’re never going to change!”

“I didn’t f*ckin’ do it!”

“Did you touch her? Did she touch you?”

He fell silent and closed his eyes. “Baby,” he rasped. “It was only—”

Eva went screaming crazy in his grip, thrashing and kicking and shrieking nonsense at the top of her lungs.

“STOP!” he roared, trying to keep a good hold on her but they were both wet from the shower, and Eva managed to twist a hand free of his grip. She spun around, her hand flew through the air and he had only enough time to flinch before her palm cracked down on his cheek and already sore jaw.

“Motherf*ck!” he yelled, grabbing for and missing her hand. She slapped him again, this time, on his ear.

“You wanna hit me?” he roared, curling his hand into a fist as she continued slapping and shoving him. “Then f*ckin’ hit me, EVA! FUCKIN’ REALLY HIT ME! FUCKIN’ HURT ME, BITCH. FUCKIN’ HURT ME!”

He slammed his own fist into the side of his head and he swore he felt his brain do a goddamned backflip.

He hit himself five more times, swift punches, each to his face, one right after the other, bam-bam-bam, before he realized Eva had fallen silent, staring up at him with tears streaming down her face.

“It’s never going to end,” she whispered. “Is it?” Reaching up, she cupped the side of his cheek and ran the pad of her thumb under his eye. “We were doomed from the start, weren’t we, baby?”

Years of heartache and pain grabbed hold of his balls and twisted like a motherf*cker.

“No,” he growled, slapping her hand off him and grabbing her face, squeezing her cheeks. “You ain’t leavin’, don’t even think it.”

She tried to shake her head in protest and he squeezed harder, refusing to let her interrupt him. “Shut up and listen to me,” he demanded. “Everything’s all f*cked-up right now but that don’t mean it’s always gonna be that way. Shit’s been bad before and we figured it the f*ck out, didn’t we?”

When she didn’t respond, he glared at her. “Didn’t we?”

She nodded.

“Yeah, we f*ckin’ did. And we’re gonna do it again. I’m gonna fix it, Eva. I came home tonight to start fixin’ it and I’m tellin’ you that I didn’t f*ck the bitch. I couldn’t f*ck her, not when all I want is you, darlin’.”

He watched more tears pool in her eyes and spill over.

“I’m gonna fix it,” he said fiercely. “And then I’m gonna fix it again and keep on fixin’ it until the bad stops outweighin’ the good, until there ain’t nothin’ but good left.

“You feel me, Eva?” he asked, releasing her face.

She nodded again. “Promise?” she whimpered in a small child-like voice, full of pain and desperation that gutted him straight to his soul.