Provoke

by Missy Johnson

  "Wasn't expecting you in today." Finn stood near the roller door, attempting to clean grease from his hands with an old rag.

  "Yeah, well, things change," I muttered, setting myself up in front of an old Harley that needed an oil change and a service.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Why wouldn't it be?” I shrugged.

  “I don't know, you just seem a little off,” he said.

  I stood up and wiped my brow with my forearm. I could really use a friend to talk to. The guys were my buddies, but it wasn't like we sat around and shared secrets. We’d known each other for years, but it was a case of meet up and relax, play a few games of pool, drink a few beers—typical guy stuff. We didn’t do feelings and shit.

  I struggled to open up to Leet, let alone Finn.

  “Just having a few problems,” I muttered.

  Finn nodded. “Fine, but if you need to talk, I mean, you can tell me anything, yeah?”

  “Yeah, thanks man,” I said, smiling awkwardly. The thing was, I couldn’t ask his advice on anything without going into a shitload of detail.

  I resumed working on the bike, unsuccessfully trying to keep my mind off Leeta. After busting my third oil filter, Finn shot me a look.

  “Dude, maybe you should go home and relax or something.”

  “That's the problem. I can't relax.”

  “Yeah, well, no offense, but all you’re doing here is breaking shit.”

  I threw the spanner down on the ground, wincing as it bounced across the concrete floor. He was right—I fucking knew that—it was just that the last thing I needed was somebody telling me what to do.

  Fuck. Maybe I shouldn't be here. I stood up abruptly, sending the milk crate I'd been sitting on flying backwards.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Have it your way. I'm gone.” I ignored Finn’s protests and stormed back out to my bike.

  For the next hour or so, I just rode. I was heading nowhere in particular, and it felt good.

  Why hadn't I thought of that first?

  There was no better way for me to clear my head than on my bike—especially finding an unused back road somewhere, where I could take my helmet off, do a few burnouts, and just let off some steam. This is what I needed. I already felt better.

  Parking my bike, I jumped off and sat down on a grassy patch beside it. It was as good a time as any to try and think out my next move. I couldn't think straight around Leeta. Never could. I knew I didn't want her to be any more involved than she already was. If anything happened to her because of me, I’d never forgive myself.

  But I also knew how stubborn she could be.

  I gripped hold of a few blades of grass between my fingertips, and tugged them from the ground. Lifting my hand above my head, I let the blades fall, watching as they slowly floated towards the ground, not really knowing where they would end up.

  That was kind of how I felt—like I was free-falling without a parachute, with no idea how long it was until I hit the ground.

  #

  I got to my feet and picked up my helmet. I had to get back there. I could put it off facing her for a while, but not forever. The last thing I wanted was to get into another fight. What I wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before—which was ridiculous, considering I'd built our whole relationship around lies.

  I shook my head. What she’d ever seen in a fuck-knuckle like me, I would never know.

  Chapter Ninteen

  Mace

  “Hello?”

  I knocked gently on the door before entering the room. Tim's car was gone, which was good, because I sure as hell couldn't handle him right now. I was on edge enough as it was.

  I shut the door and took in the complete silence. I didn't need to check the bedroom or the bathroom. I knew she was gone.

  “Fuck,” I cursed. Fuck me and my overreactions. Fuck me for keeping things from her. Fuck me for ruining the only good thing in my life. Fuck everything.

  I walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. And fuck this piece of shit motel for not having a minibar. I slammed the door shut and headed for the bedroom. Throwing myself down on the mattress, I buried my face in the pillow. I was wrecked. I hadn't slept in days, and it was starting to show. I was no good to myself at the moment, let alone her. I needed to pull myself together. I needed to fucking sleep.

  I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Picking up my phone, I found her number. My finger hovered over the call button. But then I hesitated. She wasn’t here for a reason. The least I could do was respect that. Closing my eyes, I pictured her face. Her smile. Everything about this woman I loved. How could I make her see that?

  A few hours later I woke up, feeling worse than I had before. My head ached like a jackhammer was pounding through it, and the anger I felt at the world had doubled. Kicking back the covers, I grabbed my stuff and left.

  Sitting around here feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to fix anything. If I wanted to change things, then I was going to have to work at it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Leeta

  After he dropped me home, Tim insisted on sticking around for a while. The last thing I wanted was company. I wanted to have a long soak in the bath and spend some time with Marcus who, judging by his full plate of biscuits, had been well cared for while I was away. My heart swelled at the thought that Mace had stopped in here and topped up Marcus's food bowl.

  I mean, how cute was that?

  Tim finally left, but only after making sure I had eaten a proper meal. His version of a proper meal? Takeout pizza.

  I was so damn tired. I hadn't slept properly in days, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I walked into the bathroom and ran the bath, sprinkling some bath salts into the water. I undressed, discarding my clothes on the floor, not bothering to put them in the hamper. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I carried it back into the bathroom.

  Stepping into the hot water and lowering myself under was equivalent to experiencing the best sex I’d ever had. That’s how exhausted I was: I’d take a bath over an orgasm. Maybe that was my age showing.

  I took a sip of my wine and closed my eyes.

  “Leet? Are you here?”

  I sat up with a start, sending water and wine splashing everywhere.

  What the hell is Mace doing here?

  “I'm in the bathroom,” I yelled out.

  Seconds later, he appeared in the doorway. “I meant I'd be out in a minute,” I said tersely, trying my best to cover myself.

  He cocked his eyebrow, the ghost of a smile on his face.

  “It's not like I haven't seen it all before.”

  “Yeah? Well, I haven't decided whether you’ll ever get to see it again,” I snapped back.

  “Fine,” he said, shaking his head as he walked out of the room. “Do you want a drink?”

  “Yes, can you get me a wine, please?”

  I stepped out of the bath, grabbing a towel off the rack. I wrapped the soft material of the towel tightly around my body. After drying my hair and my face, I walked out into the living room just as Mace walked towards me, carrying two glasses of wine. I raised my eyebrows.

  “What?” he asked. “I drink wine.”

  “Isn't there any beer?” I smirked

  “That's not the point,” he said, narrowing his eyes. He took a sip and raised his eyebrows.

  I chuckled. I set my glass down on the coffee table. “You want to know what Tim had to say before you stormed out?”

  He winced. “Look, I'm sorry about that. I just needed to clear my head, you know? That’s why I came over—to say I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment. “And I might have been a little angry you showed him the video.”

  “How else was I going to see if he could help us? Besides, it's not like he's seen you naked. He'd have no idea that was you,” I pointed out.

  “That’s not the point,” Mace sighed. “How do you think it made me feel having him watch that?”

  “How do you think
it makes me feel?” I asked softly.

  He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “I don’t know what else I can say, Leet. I love you, but you have to be ready to forgive me or nothing I say will make a difference.”

  He was right. I did have to be ready. And I wasn’t yet. Would I ever be? I hoped so. I really did.

  #

  After Mace had left, I climbed into bed. It was only just after eight, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to be back in my own place. I stroked Marcus, who had decided he was sleeping next to me on my bed. I was okay with that; I liked having him around.

  My phone rang. I reached for it, expecting either Tim or Mace.

  “Hello?”

  “Leeta.”

  My blood froze. Ben. I had completely forgotten that I’d emailed him in the midst of my ‘I’m dating a rapist’ breakdown.

  “Ben.” My voice came out kind of like a breathless gargle. I cringed, slapping my hand over my face. If there was someone I didn’t want to speak to right then—or ever—it was Ben.

  “I got your email. I was surprised to hear from you. After the last time—”

  “Yeah, let’s not go into the details, okay?” I said. I instantly felt bad about snapping. I had contacted him, after all. The fact that he was shocked to hear from me after he’d called me—his fiancée—to unchain him from the hotel bed his ‘friend’ had cuffed him to after robbing him was hardly surprising.

  God, the image of walking into that room was something I never wanted in my head again. Unfortunately for me, it was hard to think about Ben without picturing him naked and cuffed to that bed with a belt clasped tightly around his neck and his dick in a cuckhold. I shuddered.

  “You said you needed my help? Anything, Leeta. Whatever I can do . . .”

  “No, I’m actually all good now, thanks.” I groaned internally, wanting this whole conversation to end. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now. Please. Forget I contacted you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mace

  Parking in the visitor’s lot at the prison, I laughed to myself. Twice in one week? God, I must really be in trouble. But I wasn’t there to see Dad this time; I was there to see my brother.

  And Dad couldn’t find out about it.

  I went through security and was led toward the visitors’ area by a guard.

  “Hey,” I said once we were out of earshot. I hadn’t met this guy before—bribing a guard you didn’t know was always a huge risk. “Say I wanted to meet my brother somewhere a little more private? Could you hook me up?”

  The guard stopped and turned, staring at me though narrowed eyes. Just when I thought I was going to get hauled off into my own cell, he nodded.

  “I could help you out . . . but you need to understand the risk in that for me.” I pulled out a fifty. He nodded. “Follow me.”

  I nodded at the guard as he ushered me into a small, dark, closet-sized space.

  “Wait here,” he said, locking me in. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I sat down on at the small metal table that occupied the centre of the room. It was little more than an interrogation space. I glanced at the mirror that stretched along the length of the wall. Was it paranoid of me to wonder if there was anyone behind there, watching me? How the fuck was I supposed to speak to Cash here?

  The door opened and Cash walked in. He said something to the guard, who nodded and left us alone. I narrowed my eyes at my brother.

  “What?” He shrugged. “I just asked the guy to leave us alone for a few minutes.”

  “So, you’ve got this whole place wrapped around your finger, huh?”

  Cash smirked as he approached me. He set his hands down on the table. “What do you want, Mace? Don’t tell me you’re fucking things up already.”

  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I grumbled, running my fingers through my hair. I hated that I needed help. I hated even more that it was Cash I was asking. He laughed and sat down while I scowled at him.

  My brother was a scary-looking dude, with tattoos covering both arms and half his body. He was tall—a good few inches taller than me—and had the body of a weightlifter.

  “So what? You stick to the plan and find these fuckers, and I’ll do the rest.” Cash shrugged.

  Yeah, because it’s all that fucking easy.

  “Mace,” he sighed, shaking his head. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”

  “You don’t get it,” I growled, smashing my fists down on the table. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through the last few months. You think finding these guys is fucking easy? You think I enjoyed helping those sick fucks get their rocks off? You think I enjoyed cheating on Leet?” I stopped, swallowing hard.

  It wasn’t worth it. He would never understand. We may have been brothers, but Cash had lost the ability to empathize a long time ago.

  “That’s what this is really about.” Cash laughed, stretching his arms behind his head. “Your chick. All you care about is her, and not fucking up what you have.”

  “Just leave it,” I warned him. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to him badmouth Leet. And they wondered why I never visited.

  “No, I’m right, aren’t I? Fuck family. Fuck Anna. You care more about this courtroom chick than you ever did about us.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it,” I growled, getting to my feet.

  Anger pulsated through my veins. Who the fuck was he to sit there and judge me?

  “You fucked up your own life, and you resent the fact that I still have one. That’s why you’re so insistent on being the one who fucks these guys up. You want to give them a reason to lock you up for good, because you’re too much of a pussy to get out and make something of your life,” I spat, my eyes level with his.

  He laughed bitterly. “That’s why you involved Dad, isn’t it? I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why you had gone to him, but that’s it, isn’t it?”

  I backed off, flexing my shaking hands.

  “He is in here for life. He is never getting out. You still have a choice.” I turned around and banged on the door. The guard came in immediately and escorted me out. I glanced back at my brother, who was sitting down, holding his head in his hands.

  Nothing I said was going to get through to him. I knew that, but at least I’d tried.

  #

  Was there any chance she was going to forgive me?

  She wouldn’t be helping you if there were no chance. Leave it; stop pushing her into giving you answers she’s not ready to give.

  It was great advice. Only, I rarely listened to my own advice.

  I jumped off my bike and took my helmet off, tucking it under my arm as I walked up to her front door. I knocked. I could hear her thumping around inside as she ran for the door, swinging it open. I breathed in sharply, wetting my lips as my gaze ran over her short light-blue skirt and white tee. I felt my cock harden as my eyes fell on her stiff nipples, which were on show through the thin fabric.

  “Hey.” She stood aside and let me in. I walked past her, my finger ‘accidentally’ brushing past her smooth thigh. “Any news?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t planning on telling her about my visit with Cash. I let myself into her living room, with her following behind me, and walked right over to the couch, which I sank down into.

  “Make yourself at home,” she said, her tone dry. The edges of her lips twitched. I shrugged. Was there a point in making all this more awkward? She grabbed two cans of soda from the kitchen. “So, are you here for a reason?” she asked, handing me one of the cans.

  “I just wanted to check on you.”

  “You could’ve done that over the phone.”

  “Okay. I wanted to see you.” I spoke bluntly.

  She sighed, sitting down the other end of the couch, tucking her legs up under her knees. “Mace . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  I waited for her to continue, but nothing came. Shifting in my seat so I was facing her, I rested my arm along the back of the couch,
studying her.

  She was nervous; I could tell by the way she kept wetting her lips and fidgeting with her fingers. Nervous about what? Me? My eyes fell on her nipples again, which were still stiff as fuck. Maybe she didn’t trust herself with me? I could work with that.

  I held out my hand, motioning for her to take it. She hesitated, but did.

  “What are you doing, Mace?”

  “What? I’m holding your hand,” I said, my fingernails drawing circles on her soft skin.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” I asked, pulling her toward me. She whimpered as I kissed her lips. My fingers stroked the side of her face as I kissed her again, my mouth crashing against hers. She kissed me back, then pulled away.

  “Mace, this is not giving me space,” she groaned, her hands slapping her forehead.

  “I know, I’m sorry. Take all the time you need.”

  She shot me a look.

  “What?” I said, spotting my phone on the floor. I bent down to retrieve it, figuring that it fell out of my pants pocket. I half listened to Leet muttering as I checked my emails.

  Shit: another email. Another job.

  My heart pounded as I clicked it open. I swallowed, my throat rougher than sandpaper as I read the words over and over.

  Brunette. Slim. Feisty. I want a fighter. Wednesday. Nine p.m.

  Feisty. Had last time given him a thirst for something more violent? That’s if it even was the same guy. It was too hard to tell. The emails always came from a new account, and the details I was supplied with were minimal.

  “Mace?”

  I glanced over as Leet threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “See? You’re not even listening to me. That’s exactly what I mean.”

  I handed her my phone, watching her mouth drop as she read the email.

  “So, what now?” she demanded.

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to say it.

  Her eyes darkened. “No way, Mace. Not again. I swear, if you want there to be any chance of us getting things right . . .”