Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(56)

After the movie finally ends, I blow my nose and try to get a handle on my ugly-cry face. Reluctantly, I pull myself from his clutches, my body instantly cooling.

“Oh, my gosh, that was just so sad.” I rest my head on his chest, and I can literally hear his heartbeat speed up. The whole time during the movie, I could feel him becoming antsy. Him sitting down and watching a movie, I don’t think he’s ever done it. Doing something so normal, and calm… It’s killing him.

I sit up and start rubbing the heels of my palms under my eyes. “Gah, I hate those kinds of movies.”

He stretches his arms and yawns.

“It was –”

“I mean, if I were that woman, I would haunt his ass. I would be so furious he let everything go to shit,” I interrupt.

He scowls.

“I don’t think that he let everything go to shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was head over heels. Had his heart broken. You can’t replace that kind of love, obviously. He was stuck in time. He couldn’t go backwards, couldn’t go forward. He had to learn how to live again. To make time resume its normalcy.” His eyes flash with something unfamiliar before scowling. As if he didn’t mean to open up to me. How can he say stuff like that and not be taken by someone?

“Have you ever been in love?” He untangles from me and exhales, irritation and anxiousness radiating off him in waves.

“Why do we keep coming back to me and my life? I thought I said it was off-limits.” His tone carries a bite to it that takes me by surprise.

“I guess because I feel like I don’t know you.” I know what his file says, but I don’t know anything past that. “I want to know what makes you the way you are. Why you’re so brooding and pissed off all the time.” I shrug.

We sit in silence, my eyes avoiding him. I like him, I do. But I need more than what he’s giving me. I want to know what makes Zevin Deluca. Why he’s so angry all the time, and what makes him happy.

“It’s better that you don’t know. It’s safer.”

“You know, if it’s trust that’s the big issue, I can assure you that I’m not going to repeat anything. It wouldn’t do any good anyways. I’m sleeping with you, which is a conflict of interest. It’s inadmissible in court. Plus, everyone’s scared of you anyway, so they would turn a blind eye.”

He runs his hands through his hair, sweat building on his forehead.

“That’s not the point… I just can’t,” he murmurs.

Pissed off, I stand. I’m jealous those club bitches get to know more about him than I do. Furious because even though he’s here with me, I don’t feel like he’s really here.

“So, you can have sex with me, be that controlling * you are, but you can’t tell me anything about you? It’s not fair.”

“I’m just going to go.” He stands, and I feel my face turn red.

Is he serious? He’s just going to leave?

“What? Why?”

“Because I can’t do this!” he yells, little vessels popping from his forehead. Anger slams forward, devouring my senses.

“Fine. Go!” I stomp toward him, shoving him in the chest. Even with all my might, my push only makes him take a step back.

“You better watch it.” He lifts a sharp brow at me.

“Or what?” I shove him again. “You’ll handcuff me again? Kill me?” I know I’m pressing my luck, but I don’t care. I’m pissed off. I hate him, and I want him. He makes me crazy, and that, most of all, makes me go mad.

“Fine,” he grits. Turning, he strides into my room and starts putting his clothes on.

“We can’t do normal. Look at us, we can’t even sit down to watch a movie together. Something couples do all the time.” A half-laugh, half-cry spills from my lips as I pull on my bangs in frustration.

Ignoring me, he steps around me, grabs his cut and leaves.





ZEEK


I ride through town, the fresh air just what I need. My mind is racing, my emotions like a game board that’s been overturned. I’m everywhere. I don’t feel like I can play house; I’m not bred to do that.

Sitting there watching that movie, I nearly came undone. I became anxious, needing to f*ck, or kill. Do something.

Then when she started asking me questions, stepping over that last boundary, I could feel the walls closing in.

Maybe it’s because even though I care for Jillian, she’s still law enforcement, and talking to her about me or the club steps over that line that is scarred into my soul.

It’s a rule I killed my own blood for breaking. I’ve not only broken the rules thus far, I’ve literally thrown the f*cking rule book out the window.

To step over that last one, though, it’s going to take some time. Otherwise, killing my own father would’ve been in vain. Becoming who I am today would’ve been for nothing.

But worst of all, if anyone catches me with her, they’ll torture her.

She’ll be another one I care about that I burned, and it will be my fault. I’m not sure I can take hurting someone else I care about.

I need to tread lightly, at least until I can figure out how to get my club separate from my uncle. Once I do that, I will kill that motherf*cker. It won’t be slow. It won’t be humane. It’ll be animalistic.