Sicko(60)

“Simple, really.” Jade drifts in from behind me, but I don’t shift. I mentally count to twenty in my head to stop me from rearing forward and ripping Wicked’s throat right out of his neck. Breathe in and out. Jade continues. “I know how to keep secrets from him now.”

She picks up her phone from the sofa, and I watch as her fingers grasp around the black case.

Perfect white manicure. Simple, clean, yet knowing exactly what to do with it. The only thing worse than an innocent woman is one who knows exactly how to use it to bring evil to their knees. I don’t know why the white sticks to me, but it does. It catches my attention mainly because Jade is anything but the purity she’s trying to proclaim painted on her nails. It’s a statement.

“Shall we go?” she adds, and I finally stand, making my way to Wicked.

When everyone is out of earshot, I grind my teeth and lock him with my glare. Wicked is a tank, and he knows how to fight and hold his own, but make no mistake, I can fucking take him. You give a man something worth fighting for and he’ll fight to the death. Jade is fight bait for me. You hang her sexy ass up in front of me and I’ll kill anyone who dares come near her.

“If we’re going to have a problem where she is concerned.” I smirk as I lean into his ear, my eyes falling to his shoulder. “Tell me now. I’d rather get blood in this room than at my house.”

Wicked steps backward, his dark brown eyes searching mine. He nudges his head out of the room. “Chat.”

I bring up my fingers to stop the rest of the room. “Give us a second.”

Once we’re out in the foyer, Wicked turns to face me. “First of all, fuck you. I never do anything without a fucking reason, you know that, second of all, you’re fucking blind when it comes to her. She is your blind spot. Anywhere she is, everywhere else, no longer exists Royce. It makes you fucking dumb. She makes you fucking dumb. I am here to make sure you’re not always fucking dumb.” I watch as his mouth moves and have to physically hold myself back from punching him square in the jaw.

“Not blind, brother, I’m fucking focused. You hang that girl over anything that you think I can’t kill, fuck, or fight, and you can bet your bottom dollar that I will slaughter, wreck, and knock out. She isn’t my blind spot.” I chuckle, running my finger over my bottom lip. “She’s the fucking switch to my rage. She is what makes me fucking crazy. She is what I rip for. So I’ll ask you one more time, and brother or not, I will fucking murder you.”

Wicked shakes his head, running his hands over the back of his neck while clenching his jaw. “Royce. I am not your enemy. You trust me. It’s why you all let me into L’artisaniant.”

I pause and think over his words. Mainly truth. I do trust him. I trust him a lot. “Trust isn’t something that I can negotiate where Jade is concerned.”

“Damn.” Wicked’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man not want, but need a girl so bad in my entire life.”

“You must be new here.” It was a joke, but it was mainly true. Though I have known Wicked for years, he has never witnessed how I am with Jade.

His hand comes to my shoulder. “Brother, trust me. Anything I do with her, or for her, is for your benefit.”

My eyes narrow. “Don’t go near her.”

“So, you want her?” he tests.

I chuckle arrogantly. “Motherfucker, you are asking the wrong questions.”

“Well, what am I supposed to ask?” If anyone else had said those words, I would have smacked the shit out of them, but it’s Wicked. I have to warm to him being around Jade.

“Not that.”

“Why?” he asks, and now I know he wants to get hit.

“Because there’s no do I want her or does she want me.” I drag a puff of my cigarette until smoke drifts out of my nostrils. “There’s just her and I and no one else.”

Wicked nods. “Noted. I won’t go near her like that, but I do want to find out what she’s hiding.”

He isn’t alone with that.



Later that night, after we rode back to my house and I made sure Jade was in bed—fucking asleep—I called church in my living room. I need to vent about what I found out tonight, and maybe while airing out the new facts, I piece some of the puzzle back together.

“Why don’t you just tie her to the bed, and either fuck her to tell you, or torture her?” Gypsy states.

He’s young. I know that. I constantly have to fucking remind myself of this fact or I’d kill him and then have a problem with Lion. “Because that’s not her.”

Gypsy runs his fingers through his One Direction styled hair and shrugs. “Just a suggestion.”

I shake my head. I’m proud of how much he’s growing and adapting to the life he’s surrounded by. He was shit out of luck the second he left Lion’s ball sac, though.

Lion leans over, resting his elbows on his knees. “She needs to tell you who he is. There’s a reason why he is bringing her to your sex club.”

“Why you gotta say it like that?” I jest, winking at Lion. He’s never seen the details of L’artisaniant that most see. With Lion, it’s black and white. You either fuck or kill.

Lion chuckles low, running his hand over the thick stubble on his jaw. “Because that’s what the fuck it is.”