Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Tonight I’m just a normal girl celebrating her best friend’s birthday, trying to forget she has a broken heart, and a broken mind. I grabbed the beer in front of me and laughed on cue when one of Daniela’s friends made an attempt at a joke. It didn’t feel natural--laughing, or even smiling and that was probably because I knew what made me smile and what it felt like to genuinely laugh at something.

  I knew happiness.

  I’d felt it.

  And all this is just a cheap imitation of the real thing.

  I miss him.

  I miss him so much and when I freed myself from my silence I wished he was there. He should’ve been there. He’s my person. The other half of me that was put on this earth to make me whole.

  “Oh my God,” Daniela cried, elbowing me as I brought the beer to my lips, causing me to nearly spill it down my shirt.

  “What?” I asked, shoving her hand away and taking a sip.

  “Are all the men in your father’s motorcycle club fucking hot as fuck?”

  She couldn’t have been talking about Mack, I don’t care how turned on girls are by the bad boy…that man was downright scary. I turned my head in the direction she was staring and saw Riggs walk into the bar, flocked by four men I had never seen before—all of them wore the Satan’s Knights patch on their leathers.

  Riggs’ eyes found mine, and he started for our table.

  “Oh my God, they’re coming this way! How’s my hair?” Daniela rambled as she played with her hair, pushing it over one shoulder.

  “Well look who it is,” Riggs crooned.

  “Riggs,” I acknowledged, bringing the bottle back to my lips.

  “Does your father know you’re here?”

  “Who’s her father?” The man wearing camouflage pants asked. He wore a leather a gray t-shirt underneath his leather jacket and a pair of dog tags dangled from his neck. His caramel colored eyes were pinned to mine, and he flashed me a smile full of mischief.

  “Why don’t you call him and tell him,” I challenged Riggs.

  “Stryker, this is Lacey…,” Riggs introduced. “…the Bulldog’s daughter.”

  “And I’m Daniela, no relation to the Bulldog,” she chimed in from beside me.

  “Shit, she’s Jack’s daughter?” Stryker asked, tearing his eyes off me.

  “I’m not Jack’s daughter,” Daniela offered.

  “She’s not just Jack’s daughter,” Riggs muttered, looking back at me. “Does he know you’re here?”

  “He don’t care where I am or if I’m even breathing,” I sneered.

  “I’m Deuce, this is Linc and the guy with the tattoo of a snake crawling up his arm is Cobra,” Deuce told Daniela as he took a seat next to her.

  Ladies and Gentleman we have a charmer on our hands.

  I rolled my eyes and looked back at Riggs.

  “Look, Mack is outside and I don’t need another babysitter,” I said hastily.

  “Is that why they call you Cobra? Because of the snake tattoo?” Daniela asked.

  “No,” he muttered.

  “Tell her why everyone calls you Cobra,” Stryker taunted as he threw an arm around his shoulders, swiped the baseball hat off his head and messed his hair.

  “Dude, you’re stomping all over my game,” Deuce argued, eyeing Daniela. “How

  ‘bout a drink darlin’?” His voice had a twang to it, making it clear he wasn’t a Brooklyn native.

  “Mack’s not outside, Lacey,” Riggs informed me, pulling me away from the distraction Stryker, Deuce, and Cobra provided.

  “Guess it’s a good thing you’re here then,” I replied as I pushed back my chair and stood up. “I’m going to get a refill.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for Riggs, or any of them for that matter. They all reminded me of Blackie. I made my way to the bar and ordered myself another beer before digging into my pocket for some money.

  “I’ve got it,” the person behind me said, stretching his arm around me and slapped a twenty on top of the bar. I glanced over my shoulder and saw it was Brandon. “Consider it my attempt at a truce,” he smiled.

  “A truce,” I repeated.

  “I shouldn’t have insulted your boyfriend,” he clarified, stepping around me and taking the beer from bartender and handed it to me, clinking his bottle to mine. “I was jealous and out of line.”

  I studied his features for a moment and decided he looked sincere enough. I tipped the neck of the bottle to his.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking a sip of the beer.

  “Friends?” He asked. “I mean I don’t want him to show up and beat the fuck out of me for buying his girl a drink,” he explained.

  “We broke up,” I replied, wondering if we were even officially together. “You’re safe,” I mumbled, watching as Daniela walked away from our table with Deuce and the rest of the guys to play pool. Minus Riggs. He probably went to call my father.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Brandon said, taking a swig of his beer.

  I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

  “No you’re not,” I accused.

  He brought the bottle down and smiled at me.

  He had a nice smile.

  Not nearly as nice as Blackie’s.

  “Maybe not,” he admitted. “I’m starving, why don’t we order some wings and you can tell me all about it.”

  “How about we stick to wings and beer and leave the rest out?”

  “Deal,” he said, pressing his hand against the small of my back and guiding me back to the table me and Daniela had been sharing.

  By the time we finished the food and Brandon ordered another round of beers the bar was packed and I was actually having a half-way decent time. Brandon was funny and had me laughing which was a breath of fresh air after all the crying I had been doing over the last month, especially the last twenty-four hours.

  I turned my head slightly, still laughing when I spotted Blackie standing by the door staring at me. The laughter died as I closed my eyes and prayed my mind wasn’t playing with me.

  Not tonight.

  Please not tonight.

  I slowly opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I continued to stare at him.

  He looked ragged, like he was wearing himself thin and had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he leaned against the wall and continued to stare at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My ears fell deaf to whatever it was Brandon was saying and I struggled to stop myself from standing up and running to him.

  I was pathetic.

  I saw his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath before he finally turned his head and walked straight toward the bar, ignoring me as he passed our table.

  “Are you okay?” Brandon asked, jarring me from my thoughts and away from Blackie who turned his back to me as he took a seat at the bar.

  “Fine,” I croaked, turning to look at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see him is all,” I explained as I reached for my beer bottle and pushed it aside because it was empty. I snatched Brandon’s and tipped my head back, guzzling the ale hoping I’d forget Blackie ever walked into the bar or into my life.

  “Easy,” Brandon murmured against my ear. “Don’t let him get to you,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he continued to speak against my ear.

  Riggs walked up next to Blackie, and I watched as they downed a couple of shots. Riggs turned around, waved at me and I returned the gesture with a glare.

  I bet he called him when he realized Mack wasn’t here.

  For someone who is always bitching about me and Blackie and whatever the hell you call this thing between us, he’s always throwing himself in the middle.

  Blackie glanced over his shoulder at me or maybe at Brandon but quickly turned back around and shook his head.

  “Hey,” Brandon said, placing his index finger under my chin and forced my eyes to his. “Let’s dance,” he suggested.

  Dance.

  I remember the first time I heard Stevie Nick’s song Leather and
Lace and how certain I was that the song was written for me and Blackie. At the time I never thought him and I would ever dance to it but I’d listen to it every now and then and hoped one day we would.

  And then that day came.

  “Listen to the words.”

  You’re saying I’m fragile I try not to be

  I search for something only I can’t see

  “Will you dance with me?”

  He wrapped his arms around me without question and danced with me, to my favorite song. A love song about a girl who is fragile yet tries not to be and a man who never thought he was good enough.

  Go on and tell me that song wasn’t written for us.

  Lovers forever, face to face

  Stay with me, stay

  I need you to love me

  Give me to your leather

  Take from me my lace

  You can’t, can you?”

  I looked back to the bar and watched him push back the stool and make his way through the bar towards the restrooms. I diverted my eyes back to Brandon.

  “How about a raincheck on the dance? I have to use the ladies room,” I said as I stood up.

  I didn’t wait for him to answer me and took off in the same direction as Blackie. The door to men’s room was closed, so I leaned against the wall across from it and waited for him to come out.

  Face to face, me and him, leather and lace.

  When he didn’t emerge right away I started for the door, prepared to open it and walk right inside to pull him away from whatever self-destruction he was no doubt engaging in. Why after everything, after the way he hurt me, did I still want to be the one who healed him?

  I know why.

  I love him.

  And I still believe he loves me.

  The door opened as I reached for the knob and we walked right into one another. I lifted my head and met his gaze, recognizing the warmth in his eyes before they quickly turned cold and uninviting.

  “How long are you going to pretend I don’t exist?”

  My voice was so low I wasn’t even sure he heard the question until he stepped closer, the scent of his cologne assaulted my senses, weakening me and making me copy his footsteps until we were a breath a part.

  Hold me.

  Tell me it was all a lie.

  Tell me you love me as much as I love you.

  Let me be your queen because you’ll always be my king.

  “Until you disappear once and for all,” he seethed, glaring at me, shattering the hope reborn in my heart.

  Then he was gone.

  Like a phantom.

  All he left behind was tears in my eyes and the scent of his cologne.

  What’s it going to take for you to realize he doesn’t want you?

  I get it.

  I finally get it.

  I wanted to go home, climb into bed and wait for tomorrow. I stepped out from the darkened hallway and scanned the bar for Daniela but she was nowhere in sight. I made my way back to Brandon who was exactly where I left him and playing on his phone.

  He lifted his head and smiled at me when I reached for his hand.

  “Can we get out of here?” I pleaded.

  “Sure,” he said instantly, reaching into his pocket for some cash. He glanced at the check, threw a few bills on the table and continued to hold my hand as he led me to the bar. He stood behind Blackie and called over his shoulder to the bartender.

  “The bill is on the table,” Brandon said.

  I saw Blackie twist in his stool and quickly I turned my back to him, unable to withstand another blow to my heart.

  Goodbye Blackie.

  I let Brandon escort me out of the bar into the parking lot and toward his car. He opened the car door for me, held it while I climbed in and then bent down so he was level with me. He lifted his hand to my cheek.

  “Anyone who lets you go is a fool,” he said, softly.

  I stared at him for a beat and then I was consumed by the need to feel something, anything other than pain and confusion. I wanted to erase Blackie from my mind and my heart and had no idea how to do that. But here was Brandon, and he wasn’t looking at me like I was nothing, like he wished I’d disappear.

  I reached for him, wrapping one arm around his neck as I leaned and pressed my lips against his. The instant our mouths touched and his tongue pried my lips apart I felt like I was having an out of body experience.

  He broke the kiss, closed my door and jogged around the car. Once he was inside he locked the doors and leaned over me again. I didn’t have a chance to ask him why or even object because his mouth crashed over mine.

  I became lost in my mind, comparing the way Brandon sloppily kissed me to the way Blackie expertly did. This wasn’t making anything better, just making me miss him more and feel cheap and worse than that, made me feel like I was going against my heart.

  I heard him drag the zipper of his jeans down and I quickly pushed my palms against his chest but he pressed himself against me and shoved his tongue deeper inside my mouth.

  I pushed again and this time his hands found my hips and pushed me back against the fabric of the seat. I felt the hardness of his dick against my leg and knew I was in trouble. I turned my head, pulling my mouth away from his.

  “Brandon, stop! I don’t want to do this,” I protested.

  “Yes you do,” he insisted as he ripped my shirt open. “I’ll make you forget that old fuck ever existed,” he growled as he dipped his head and his mouth closed over the lace that covered my nipple.

  I closed my eyes, forced myself not to cry and reached for the unlock button on the door.

  His hands moved to my jeans just as I opened the door and screamed.

  “Help!”

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Brandon growled, grabbing my legs as I tried to scramble out the door.

  “Get off of me! Please! Someone help!” I shouted as he dragged me back.

  “Fucking bitch. Get the fuck back here!”

  Tears streamed down my face as panic and fear set in.

  “Please!” I screamed into the dark parking lot.

  I let out a shrill cry as Brandon grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me backward. Then he released my hair, and I fell face down and half way out of the car.

  “What the fuck?” he sneered.

  “Motherfucker, you know what no means? Huh?” Blackie shouted.

  Blackie.

  My knight.

  The man that always rides to my rescue.

  I crawled out of the car, stumbling onto my feet and turned around as tears clouded my eyes and I watched as Blackie reared his fists back and attacked Brandon.

  “No, stop!” Brandon cried, his pants around his ankles as Blackie bloodied his face with one shot after another. “Shit, I’m sorry! Help!”

  I watched in horror as Blackie grabbed Brandon by his ears and threw him onto the ground, wedging a boot between his legs. Brandon wailed as blood poured from every crevice of his face.

  “Blackie!” I shouted.

  He was going to kill him.

  “C’mon motherfucker, cry for me. Cry like the bitch you are,” Blackie demanded as he pounded the back of Brandon’s skull against the asphalt.

  “CRY!” He shouted, lifting him by the ears and slamming his head against the ground again.

  “WEEP MOTHERFUCKER!”

  There was blood everywhere.

  So much blood.

  “Open your fucking eyes. Look at me!” Blackie ordered, as a siren sounded from somewhere close by. I glanced around the parking lot and saw people running from the bar towards us.

  “Blackie, the cops are coming! Please stop!” I shrieked.

  Stryker and two of the other guys ran up beside him and tried to pull him off Brandon but Blackie wasn’t having it. There was nothing and no one that could stop him.

  “Blackie man, you need to get the fuck out of here. Let’s go,” Stryker called, turning his eyes onto me.

  “LOOK AT ME!”
Blackie shouted.

  This is all your fault.

  Look what you did.

  I closed my eyes and let out a scream that vibrated through my ears.

  Make it stop.

  “You see this face? Remember it. I’m the one who fucking did this to you,” Blackie snarled, just as I opened my eyes and watched him slam the back of Brandon’s head against the ground.

  The moment Blackie released his hold on Brandon the world stopped for us.

  Two lost souls died.

  Two broken hearts stopped beating.

  And the higher power writing our story typed the two words you dread.

  The End.

  One of the cops grabbed Blackie’s arms and forced them behind his back as he lifted his eyes from Brandon’s body and stared at me, baring his soul to me.

  I love you.

  It was reflected in his sorrowful eyes.

  Along with every word scribed of the story of us.

  I felt the scream throughout my body but couldn’t hear it all I could hear was the officer read him his rights and confirm it was all over.

  Lovers forever.

  Blackie and Lacey.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  I can still hear her pleas for help and the image of her crawling out of the car only for that motherfucker to drag her back in— it consumes my mind. I close my eyes and I can see the tortured expression on her face as Brantley slapped cuffs on my wrists and read me my rights.

  I’ve experienced a lot of shit in my life, felt all sorts of fucked up things I wasn’t used to feeling…like sorrow, like remorse, but what I felt when I beat the fuck out of that kid was something entirely different. I wasn’t a man fighting for his club, or an outlaw looking to be a menace. I was a man fighting for his woman and in that instant I was capable of anything.

  There was no remorse for my actions.

  I’d do it all over again.

  And again.

  I swore I’d never touch her again, told myself I was no good for her, and she wasn’t safe because of me.

  I thought giving her up was the answer.

  But watching her with another man, seeing another motherfucker try to take what was mine, made me realize I was wrong.

  I might be a degenerate, a dangerous son of a bitch with a shitload of problems but I love Lacey and there’s not a thing on Earth I won’t do for her.