Burned(Devil's Blaze MC 2)(36)

“Hi,” she whispers with a giggle. A fucking giggle!

I practically pull her away from the damned table. She’s been walking better today, but she stumbles twice as I pull her. I don’t give a fuck. I want her to do her business and then get her the fuck away from that asshole. Then, if I don’t change my mind, I’m going to spank her ass so red that she won’t be able to sit down for a fucking month without crying out. Damned cock tease. It was bad enough when it was me she did that shit to, but I will not have her trying to get another man’s attention. Fuck no!

I open the door to the one-stalled bathroom and practically shove her inside. “Get done. You have five minutes tops, then I’ll come in after you. If I have to do that, Katie, you won’t like it,” I threaten, slamming the door shut.

I wait against it. I wait longer than five minutes, which makes me a liar. But, motherfucker, I need to get a hold of myself. She’s been in there a good ten minutes when I hear her gasp, followed by a loud noise I can’t really describe. I start banging on the door. “Katie, you need to get your ass out of there or I’ll break the motherfucking door down. We need to get going.”

“I don’t like the way you’re talking to that girl,” the trucker from earlier says.

He’s standing in front of me, apparently taking it on his own to follow us back here and check on Katie. Well, hell, it looks like I’m going to have to beat the asshole down. I’m not worried. I’m pretty sure I can take him… until two of his butt-buddies join him. The three of them look at me like I’m next on their list of things to fuck up.

If I survive this shit, I’m going to strangle Katie.





I think I’m losing my touch. I gave that trucker enough of an invitation that he really should’ve walked over. He didn’t. That’s Torch’s fault too, since he looks pretty damn formidable. Well, if you discard his damn t-shirts.

Shit. I have to get away. I have to.

There’s a tiny fucking window in here that is way too small for my ass, and he’ll give up waiting on me at any moment. I try to push it open, but it’s not budging. My finger snags on the rusty metal handle and it stings like hell. It starts bleeding right away. I’ll probably die of tetanus and it’ll be all the asshole’s fault.

I take a deep breath and try to look around for something, anything, that can help me get away from him. As if he can hear my thoughts, he pounds on the door, yelling. I ignore him. I have to think.

That’s when I hear him. A second voice; I’m almost sure it’s the trucker. Now’s my chance. I need to make sure when I come out that I get him completely on my side. I can’t take the chance that Torch will talk the Trucker into his side. The man has a golden tongue… in more ways than one.

I look in the mirror above the sink. I look down at my Black Crowes t-shirt and mourn losing it. I pull at the collar. Luckily, I had already taken scissors to it and made it into a V cut. I hate the round collars that most t-shirts spout; it feels like it chokes me, and Lord knows I’ve had that feeling enough—I don’t need it from my clothes. I rip it so it falls down on my shoulder, enough to show the silky red bra beneath, because let’s face it, men get distracted by boobs. Satisfied with that, I muss up my hair just a little. At first, I grieved losing my blonde locks. The longer I have this dark color, the more I like it. I doubt I’ll ever go back. Not to mention, I like looking different from Bethie. With that done, I look a little roughed up, but it’s not enough. I need signs of violence. Torch is talking to the trucker. I need to hurry before the trucker leaves.

I take a deep breath, make a tight fist like I learned in self-defense class, then hit myself along my jaw and the corner of my mouth. Jesus. Okay, that hurt, but I know I’ve pulled my punch some. I don’t really like pain. Isn’t that ironic? After three more punches, I can see the red inflamed skin. Eventually, it will swell. That’ll work, except for…

I take my ring off. It’s a small diamond surrounded by pearl petals so that it looks like a daisy. It was a gift from Bethie during our first Christmas together after she found me. I use the diamond to cut the corner of my lip. It doesn’t bleed much, just a little bit. It’s enough though, because I’m about two steps away from joining the crazy train now. I use the blood from the finger I cut earlier and smear extra along the bottom of my lip making it look like it’s bleeding a lot. One last look in the mirror and then I walk to the door.

“She’s my woman,” I hear Torch say.

“Didn’t look to me like she wanted to be your woman anymore.”