Not a fucking thing.
As long as she keeps needing me I’ll keep showing up.
Shove me in a cell, handcuff me to a bench and throw away the key but I promise you, as long as I’m breathing…if she needs me I’ll find a way out. I’ll always find a way back to her.
Always.
And right now it’s killing me I’m locked up when I should be holding her, reassuring her she’s okay and this nightmare will go away.
She needs me.
And I’m not there.
I tried to pull my arm free, felt the metal of the handcuffs dig into my wrist as I screamed out in frustration.
She needs me and there is no end in sight.
No way out.
No looking into her eyes and making it right.
There’s nothing.
I don’t know how many fucking times I called Blackie, but that fuck hasn’t answered not one goddamn call. I don’t need this shit, honest to God, I don’t. I’ve got a daughter on the brink of a mental breakdown, a war with the Chinese and a goddamn head that won’t be silenced.
I don’t need to worry my vice president is off the grid on a mission to kill himself and I don’t need the suspicions my mind is feeding me about him and Lacey either. That shit needs to be put to bed.
I needed to concentrate on Lacey, on getting her the help she needs and rallying the people in her life to become a support system because being mentally ill isn’t something that gets fixed instantly with a little pill. It’s a process to even be diagnosed and then when a doctor labels you bipolar they fuck with different medicines until they find one that helps control the chemical imbalance the brain is feeding off.
My little girl has a long fucking road ahead of her and as her father and the man responsible for this shit that’s become her life, so did I, which means Blackie needs to step the fuck up and handle the club.
“Jack?” Reina called, pulling me away from the mess inside my mind and forcing me to focus on the beauty sprawled across my chest.
She lifted her head and my hands instantly went for her hair, threading it through the sea of gold.
“Hmm?”
“You all good?” She questioned, running her hands over my chest as she straddled me.
“I’m good, Sunshine. You make it all better,” I assured as my hands gripped her hips. Reina shut my maker down better than any medication ever could. She took me away from the darkness and reminded me I had life to live and no time to fall into a trap that was created on hypotheticals.
She talked me through the war inside my head and when all else failed, my Sunshine would sing, soothing my soul with her voice and quieting the demon possessing me.
Life was good with Reina in it.
“She will be okay,” Reina whispered, as she caressed my cheek. I reached up, cradled her face in my hands and brought her mouth down to mine. I’m a fucking lucky man.
“When you going to marry me?” I growled against her mouth.
Her lips curved, and she pulled back slightly to look into my eyes.
“Anxious to make me Property of Parrish?” She teased, pressing another kiss to my lips.
Sunshine was my second chance.
A man like me gets a second chance he hangs onto it with everything he’s got.
“You’ve been Property of Parrish, since I first fucking laid eyes on you,” I reminded her. “Time the whole world knows it.”
She laughed, dropping the sheet she had tucked under her arms and granted me the sweetest view. I was about to flip her onto her back and take her another time when I heard the doorbell ring.
I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand.
“That can’t be good,” Reina murmured, sliding off me. We both threw the covers off us and climbed out of bed. I pulled on my jeans, she threw on a t-shirt and we moved towards the stairs, following the sounds of a fist beating down my fucking door.
“It’s probably Blackie all fucked up,” I seethed, hurrying down the stairs.
“I thought he was getting clean?” Reina said behind me.
“Yeah, me too,” I grunted as I reached the front door and pulled it open. Stryker turned around, his expression grim as he rubbed his hands over his short hair.
“We got a big problem,” he said, stepping to the side and revealing my daughter.
“Oh my God,” Reina gasped from behind me, pushing me aside to grab a hold of Lacey. My disheveled little girl stared back at me blankly as black make-up streaked her beautiful face and she clutched Stryker’s leather jacket around her trembling body.
“What the fuck happened?” I roared, grabbing a hold of Stryker’s shirt and pushed him up against the wall. “Why is she with you?”
“Jack!” Reina shouted, wrapping her arm around Lacey’s shoulders and bringing her against her. “Get it under control,” she ordered, eyeballing the broken girl in her arms and ushered her into the house.
I released my grip on Stryker.
“Start fucking talking,” I demanded.
“Look, I don’t know all the details but she left a bar with some guy, the next minute someone comes into the bar screaming there’s a fight in the parking lot. By the time me and the guys got outside, Blackie was beating the fuck out of the guy Lacey was with,” he recounted.
I narrowed my eyes at Stryker, trying to comprehend everything he was saying as he continued to talk.
“Bulldog, it’s bad…real fucking bad. Blackie went fucking nuts and rightfully so the little fuck was going to rape her.”
Everything stopped.
I stepped backward and pinned Stryker with a glare.
“What did you just say?”
“He didn’t get a chance too, man,” Stryker proceeded, cocking his head to the side as he peered back at me. “Did you hear me? Blackie got to him before he could hurt her. Jack, he saved her,” he insisted.
I fell in love with Blackie but you don’t have to get all bent out of shape about it because he doesn’t feel the same way.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“The cops came and arrested him,” he said as I brushed past him and into the house, looking for Lacey.
“Lace?” I called, following the sounds of her sobs and found her in the living room, pacing back and forth in front of Reina.
“It’s all my fault! He’s going to go to jail because of me!”
Can’t order me to protect her one minute and not the next, can’t give me her life, tell me it’s precious then expect me not to put her high on my list of priorities.
“Lacey,” I shouted. “Baby, look at me,” I demanded, as I watched helplessly as she unraveled, and we swapped roles. I was the person on the receiving end of a manic breakdown and she was the one with no control.
“Dad?” She questioned, turning around abruptly to stare at me. “Oh, thank God! You have to take me to the police station!” She ordered, grabbing my shoulders as I stood there unsure how to help her.
“Why aren’t you getting dressed? Did you hear me? You have to take me to the cops, I have to tell them what happened so they can release him.”
“Lacey,” I croaked, my heart breaking as I watched her lose her battle with her maker
“No! You’re not listening! He saved me,” she cried. “He saved me, again!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Brandon would’ve raped me, Dad. Do you understand? Rape! Blackie stopped him and now we have to help him. I have to help him!”
I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around her, looking over her shoulder at Reina.
“Call your doctor,” I ground out, knowing Reina might have better luck reaching her doctor than I would have reaching mine at this hour.
She nodded, starting for the stairs to retrieve her phone.
“Grab my clothes,” I called after her, pulling back from Lacey, I brushed the hair away from her face with the back of my hand and wiped the mascara that ran down her cheek. “Dry your eyes,” I said, blowing out a breath. “Blackie wouldn’t want
you crying.”
I never thought I’d be pleading Blackie’s case to my daughter.
Never.
“I’m going to go down to the station and get it all straightened out,” I promised, already working out what I needed to do in my head. I looked over at Stryker. “Get Pipe on the phone, he needs to meet me at the station,” I told him, in case a judge took pity on our vice president and granted him bail Pipe would need to get our finances in order.
“Okay, well let’s go,” Lacey said, pulling out of my arms.
“You’re not coming,” I told her as Reina bounded down the stairs with my boots, jacket and shirt in her hand.
“The hell I’m not!” She protested walking towards the door. Stryker was quick to block her exit as I pulled my shirt over my head. “The cops need to hear my side I was the one attacked, I’m the one who can make it better,” she cried, digging her index finger into her chest. “Me! I have to make it better.”
“Listen to me! You need to let me get down there and handle this my way. If there comes a time when I need you to talk to the police then I’ll have one of the guys bring you down to the station but for the love of God, Lacey I need you to stay put!”
“Lacey, come on, let your father do his thing,” Reina comforted, taking Lacey’s hands. “He wants Blackie out just as much as you do,”
“No he doesn’t,” she argued, staring back at her. “He couldn’t, possibly.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check and watched on as Reina brought Lacey back into the living room.
“She’s showing signs of PTSD you might want to take her to the hospital,” Stryker suggested, forcing me to turn to him.
“What do you know about that?”
“A fuck of a lot, I was discharged from the Army two years ago,” he replied. “She should talk to somebody.”
“We got it under control,” I ground out. “Now, get your ass over to the compound and rally up the boys. I want Bones here first thing watching out for them. Do we know what precinct arrested him?”
He froze for a second, shrugging his shoulders and twisted his neck from side to side before he answered me.
“The one, two, two,” he replied, pulling open the door.
I shoved my boots on, not bothering with the laces and charged out the door with Stryker on my back. I had the boys meet me down at the police station. Pipe had the bail bondsman on speed dial and Wolf…that crazy fuck, went and pulled the clubs lawyer from his house and dragged him to the station in his pajamas. Riggs wasn’t answering his phone so, I had Bones go over to my house and watch over my girls.
The police love fucking with us, stringing us along and with Brantley heading the case we got nowhere real fast. They were keeping Blackie locked up in a holding cell until he was arraigned but since it was the weekend that wouldn’t be until Monday.
The lawyer was able to get inside and talk to him but when he came back out of the interrogation room he shook his head and added another three grand to the bill. Blackie wasn’t talking, not to him, not to the cops…no one.
He’d talk to me.
I wouldn’t give him a choice.
I needed answers.
There are two things in this world you don’t fuck with when it comes to me and that’s my family and my fucking respect.
Someone fucked with my daughter tonight.
Someone hurt her real bad, violated her and disrespected her.
And someone saved her.
Blackie, the man I trusted with my daughter’s life but never thought to trust him with her heart.
Or her mind.
Chapter Thirty-two
Reina called her shrink and asked for an emergency house call—all I kept thinking was my father told me I wasn’t crazy and I shouldn’t let anyone make me think I was.
What a joke.
It doesn’t get crazier than a house call and a tranquilizer.
I suppose I should be thankful for the reprieve because without the sedative I would still be reeling—picturing Blackie’s face as he was arrested, recalling the blood on his hands.
Or fighting with my father to do something, anything, just make it right. Blackie didn’t deserve to rot in a jail cell over me but for some reason my father is dismissing me and insisting on taking care of it his way
It’s my word that will free Blackie.
I’m the one who was attacked so why am I sitting here with Dr. Spiegel going over my moods, behaviors and introducing her to my fucking maker.
“You seem distracted,” she commented.
“I’m sorry I was nearly raped less than twenty-four hours ago and watched the man I love get arrested. Oh, and let’s not forget I’m crazy,” I said sarcastically.
“You’re not crazy, Lacey,” she said softly.
“Right, says you,” I crossed my arms and peered at her. “What else do you need to know? I think I laid it all out there for you, no? My father was diagnosed when I was five with bipolar disorder. I watched my little brother get killed and was never the same after that. I have the ability to be happy until my mind casts a shadow of doubt and I come crashing down. I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle and I’m exhausted all the time. Sometimes I’ve gotten so deep in my mind that I have even contemplated killing myself because I can’t bear it any longer. I’m ashamed that I’m not normal and I don’t want to disappoint my parents because I’m all they have left. So doc, tell me, are you sure I’m not crazy? Not even a little?”
“Bipolar disorder can be treated, ignoring it is the problem, and you’d be surprised by how many people are just like you,” she affirmed. “We will make it manageable Lacey but you’ve had an emotional few days. Tomorrow, I want you to come into the office and we will do a full work up so we can start treatment. I’d like to talk about what goes on when your ‘maker’ calls to you,” she continued, using her fingers as quotes when she mentioned my maker.
I heard the front door slam shut, and I glanced over her shoulder, trying to get a look at who had walked in but I couldn’t see shit. I turned my eyes back to Dr. Spiegel.
“Are we done for today?”
“That depends on you,” she replied, cocking her head to the side to study me like I was a science experiment or something.
“I’m all talked out, Doc,” I said as I continued to divert my eyes towards the hallway and struggle to listen to the voices talking in hushed tones.
“And you’ll meet me at my office tomorrow?” She stressed.
Damn, how did my father do this?
He has no patience.
Like none.
It was almost comical imagining him sitting in a chair, in front of a shrink firing questions at him. I bet he motherfucked a lot during his sessions.
“I’ll be there,” I promised, rising from my chair. “I appreciate you coming to see me,” I added.
I don’t know if I should be grateful that my family had shrinks on call like this or absolutely terrified that we were all fucked in the head. I’m going to go with grateful since I didn’t feel like I was ripping apart at the seams any more. I was relatively calm, albeit a medicated calm, but whatever works right?
I left Dr. Spiegel in the living room and followed my father’s voice towards the kitchen. I stole a peek and spotted my father hunched over, his hands braced against the edge of the counter as he spoke.
“Just lay it on me,” he demanded.
I looked to Riggs, watching as he pulled off his hat and ran his hands over his hair roughly.
“I went to the hospital like you told me to and checked on the fucking kid,” Riggs hissed.
“Please, tell me the little shit’s alive,” my father interrupted.
“Barely, he’s on life support,” Riggs muttered. “You might want to sit down for this one,” he suggested.
“Just tell me!”
“All right but I warned you,” Riggs grunted. “As I was leaving, I saw the kid’s father arguing with someone in the hallway. The name Boots ri
ng a bell?”
“Boots? That’s the president of the Corrupt Bastards,” my father said, a vein bulging from the side of his neck. “He was at the hospital visiting the little cocksucker who tried to rape Lacey?”
“No, he was threatening the father,” Riggs clarified. “Apparently, they had some deal going on and the father was angry because the deal didn’t include his son winding up in a coma.”
“What deal? Riggs! Get to the point!”
“I don’t know all the details but after the father went on a rant about his son dying because of some debt he owed the Bastards’—Boots told him, his son was never supposed to rape Blackie’s girl and whatever deal they had with him was now off the table,” Riggs words trailed off.
“Blackie’s girl,” my dad drawled as if he was testing the two words out to see how they sounded coming from his mouth.
I swallowed hard, watching as he swiped a hand across the counter and sent everything crashing onto the floor
“Jack,” Riggs tried.
“Blackie’s girl,” he repeated.
“Jack!”
“You telling me my daughter nearly got raped last night because of some shit with a rival club or are you telling me she was attacked because Blackie’s got a claim on my daughter?”
“I think it’s both,” Riggs admitted.
It was hard for me to wrap my head around Riggs’ words. Brandon was just some frat guy who thought his dick was holier than thou. But he wasn’t. His father had connections to another motorcycle club, and he was using me as a pawn to stir up trouble only Brandon couldn’t follow the fucking plan.
If I wasn’t sure I was mentally ill before I’d start to wonder.
As for my father? I hope he took his meds today.
Add the truth of me and Blackie being dumped on my dad and I’d say he was ten seconds away from blowing his top.
“I’ve seen them together,” Riggs blurted.
Goddamn Riggs.
Riggs held up his hands in protest as my father’s head snapped and his eyes narrowed at him.
“Before you kill me, hear me out,” he protested, and I watched as my dad remained perfectly still.
Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5) Page 28