Beyond Control(60)

If they thought listening to Dom was the way to get it, they were right...in the very worst way.

He tensed as she approached, but Lex couldn't manage to wipe the anger from her features. "You're in deep shit this time, Dom."

Dom jeered at her, puffing out his chest in a useless attempt to look unconcerned. "Yeah? Says who?"

She slapped the drink out of his hand. "I'm not f*cking around. If Dallas doesn't kill you, I'll do it myself."

"You better watch your mouth, bitch." He leaned close enough for his breath to wash over her, reeking of tequila. "I hear you're not so high and mighty now. Just another piece of ass who doesn't know when to shut up, strip down, and spread 'em."

Rage swelled, closing off her throat. Not at the personal insult, but at his implication--that women were only good for one thing, and worthless for anything else. Worse than worthless. Subhuman, nothing but disembodied parts waiting for his slavering, short-lived attention.

He'd already shed his shoes in anticipation of a fight in the cage. Lex stomped down on the bridge of his foot, then slammed the heel of her hand up against his nose.

He howled and swung a fist toward her, but it went wide. Not because she'd dodged, but because an iron arm had locked around her waist and hauled her out of the way.

Jas and Bren appeared on either side of Dom, sending his companions scattering. No doubt none of them wanted to be associated with the beatdown to come, especially when Dallas's voice tickled Lex's ear. "Lexie love, were you about to throw an ass-stomping party and not invite me?"

Easy words, lazy, at complete odds with the rigid tension in his body. He was playing his part, king of Sector Four, and she found herself going along with it. "Had to. I would have saved his head for you, though. You'll want it when you see Trix's face."

Dallas lowered her carefully to the floor. "Jas? Make sure Dom doesn't get any ideas about moving."

The crowd had gone silent, and Lex looked up. Her eyes locked with Trix's big blue ones, and she motioned her over. "Come here, honey."

The woman's chest heaved, but she obeyed, crossing the room with her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm sorry, Dallas."

He caught her chin with gentle fingers and tilted her head back, angling her bruised eye toward the light. "Only thing you need to be sorry about is not coming straight to me. You work for us, girl. You're protected."

She bit her lip and nodded.

Dallas released her and turned to Lex. They'd known each other so long it was easy to read the silent plea in his gaze. For this night, for this moment, he had to be the king, and he desperately needed her. Not Lex, his lover, or even Alexa.

He needed his queen.

Dallas didn't look away, even when he spoke. "Get in the cage, Dom."

Bren stepped forward, but Lex cut off his protest with an upraised hand. "You heard the man. He's ready to settle this."

Dom bit off a curse. "Fuck that. I won't."

"O'Kane for life," Dallas drawled, the painful edge under the words sharp enough to cut. "You wanted to punch someone, I'll give you someone to punch. If you're one of us, do what you're f*cking told and get in that cage. If you're not, I'll let Bren put two bullets in your head right now. Trust me, he wants to, just to spare me the fight."

Jasper nudged him, and Dom stumbled forward. "Have it your way, O'Kane. I'll kick your ass." He stomped toward the cage.

A queen wouldn't let her king go into a fight without her favors. Lex hesitated for a half-second before curving her hand around the back of Dallas's neck and drawing him close for a quick, hard kiss.

His lips moved against hers, but not in a kiss. In a whisper. "Thank you."

Let them all think the rumors were just that. They'd find no weakness here, no dissension. "Go."

He went, stripping off his leather vest as he walked. The harsh warehouse lights allowed for nothing to be hidden. Not the proud swirl of ink dominating one arm and shoulder, not the scars that marked his chest and back.

He was rough, hard and unforgiving. A force of nature.

And, like a storm, he had no mercy.

The cage door had barely shut when he hit Dom for the first time, smashing a fist into the man's unprotected face. He fought back, but he was no match for Dallas's cold fury.

Lex watched, every breath burning in and out of her lungs. The fight could have been over in a few minutes of brutal punches and well-placed kicks, but Dallas was holding back, almost toying with Dom. Going as much for pain as for victory.

He was putting on a show. Sending a message. Every time Dom staggered to his feet only to be knocked back down, Dallas reinforced the line he'd drawn. You didn't hurt Dallas's women. You didn't touch his people. Not the ones wearing ink, not the ones who worked for him. Because if he'd do this to one of his own men, no one else had a hope in hell of survival.

The fight had started with cheers, but as it dragged on, the warehouse grew still around Lex. O'Kanes watched in solemn pride. The rest of Sector Four watched with a mixture of satisfaction and fear.

Dallas carried the weight of everyone's safety on his shoulders, and he won it with violence and blood, taking one last swing to lay a staggering Dom out before flexing his bruised knuckles.

Dom thudded to the concrete, and Dallas lifted his head to meet Lex's gaze. Frustration. Satisfaction. Heat, as his adrenaline pumped and one sort of arousal melted into another.

He was thinking of his fantasy, the one he'd laid out so bluntly in her bathtub. The one where he celebrated his victory inside her, right there in front of everyone.

Not now, after everything that had happened. But turning away wasn't an option for Lex, either. So she stepped forward and held out her hand. Dallas hopped out of the cage and clasped her fingers. Kissed them.

Then he walked away.

As he neared Jas, he jerked a thumb toward Dom's prone figure. "Strip his cuffs," he said, raising his voice so his words carried back to them. "And then dump him with the trash."

Lex winced. As loathsome as Dom was, stripping tattoos was nasty business. The doctor had lasers, but he saved them for people he liked, or when his work had to be neat. Dom would get acid, and then he'd get turned out into the streets.

"I'll call Doc," Jasper said brusquely.

Dallas took one last look back, and Lex froze. A last look, that's exactly what it was--him drinking in the sight of her, fixing it in his mind because soon it would be gone.

She would be gone.

He turned and slammed through the back door nearest the garage.

Her mind fluttered, struggling to light on why she felt sick inside. She'd known this. The decision had been made. Plans begun. And yet something inside Lex still shrank away from the thought. Her friends, her family--

But that wasn't what twisted a cold knot in her gut. She didn't have to leave Sector Four, or even the O'Kane compound. She could stay right where she was, be as close to any of them as she'd ever been.

But not Dallas.

Her hands began to shake. He'd spent days waiting for her to come around, to tell him it would be all right, but it seemed that now he understood the one thing she needed more than apologies, more than promises.

He was finally letting her go.





Chapter Twenty-Five



The garage was dark, and the slamming of the door echoed behind her. "Dallas?"

A clatter came from the far side, where tools lined a low wooden workbench. Light flared, sudden illumination that offered her the sight of Dallas's back in silhouette. "Go back to the warehouse, Lex." He bit off each word, as if he had to measure them one at a time to keep his control. "I need to cool off."

"I can't." She was drawn to him, always. Unable to walk away. "Are you all right? Your hands?"

His snarl echoed through the darkness. "I'm not f*cking around."

"I can't," she said again, desperation almost choking her. "I can't leave. No matter what's going on between us, you need me here. I'm not just an O'Kane."

Dallas spun, still mostly backlit. She could barely make out his face, only sharp shadows playing over a fierce expression. "If you touch me, I can't promise I'll let you go again. Not right now."

She couldn't go, but she couldn't stay, either. Couldn't push or retreat. Love him or hate him.

Something had to give.

"All I wanted was you." Her voice broke on the confession. "To be as important to you as you were to me."

Silence. Heartbreaking, humiliating silence, until Dallas shifted his weight. "Would you stab me, Lex?"

An exact echo of his words from their horrible, horrible fight. She shuddered. "Only if you make me."

He was still wearing his boots. He hadn't taken them off before fighting Dom, and now he bent and jerked a knife free from the left one. He flipped it around so he was holding it by the blade and offered it to her.