by Faye Byrd
“Usually,” he hedges, glancing at Layla. “Anyway, I thought you’d be interested in this.” He lays the morning paper in front of me.
Pacific Shores Meth Lab Explosion
One officer was killed and another wounded as they attempted to serve a search warrant in Pacific Shores early yesterday morning.
That slick motherfucker. This is the perfect cover story, and the brilliance of the idea is there’s no one to dispute him.
Deputy Marcus Chambers of Crescent City was working closely with the Pacific Shores authorities on taking down a suspected meth ring. The Pacific Shores officer involved, William Booker, was fatally shot in an exchange of gunfire between the members of a motorcycle gang known as the Raging Werewolves and the two officers. Deputy Chambers sustained a single shotgun wound before a stray bullet interacted with volatile chemicals inside the building, setting off an explosion. There were no survivors, and the Pacific Shores authorities are working diligently to identify the remains found inside.
“Babe,” I call, motioning her over. “Check out this shit.”
She hands Marianne the carton of eggs and joins me at the table, settling on my lap. I can feel the warmth of her pussy on my thigh, and it’s distracting as fuck. “Holy shit!” she says as her eyes move over the article. “Deputy Marcus kicks ass.”
“Mmm, ass,” I hum, running my palm up her thigh.
She giggles, rolling her eyes, but her face turns more serious as she moves her finger down to an article in the bottom right corner. “This is interesting and a little hilarious.”
Sheriff Dawson Injured in Crash
Our beloved and long time Sheriff, Rodney Dawson, was in an automobile accident on the 101 yesterday just outside of Crescent City. He was off-duty and driving the car of a local nurse, who is believed to be his current girlfriend. According to the auto shop who towed the vehicle, it appears the brake line had been loosened in the days leading up to the incident, and they gave out suddenly as the fluid leaked away. Crescent General has advised that he is in critical but stable condition, and we can expect a slow but complete recovery.
I snort. “Has Mad Dog seen this?”
“I’m not sure,” Mikey says, shrugging.
“I can see how they made the leap,” Randi says, opening the paper and scanning the next two pages. “She was at the hospital with us last night, and it was her car he was driving. It’s probably for the best. Makes the wreck seem unrelated to the Pacific Shores shit.”
“Yeah,” I growl, the urge to re-kill the motherfuckers burning through my veins. “They’d already loosened her brake lines and were just waiting for the accident.” My hand balls into a fist. “The escort wasn’t to make sure she did as she was told but to ensure she died ‘naturally’ when the accident occurred.”
Randi drops the paper to the table and cradles her forehead in her hand. “That’s so fucked up,” she says, her voice shaky. “I’m still angry at Rhonda for helping them, but she had no choice, and to know they were going to kill her anyway … take her away from Katie. My God, Enzo.”
My girl breaks down right then and there, and it’s a side of her I’ve never seen before. She’s raw and open and hurting, and all I want to do is wrap her in my arms and protect her from this nasty fucking world. My world. Seeing her like this makes me wonder if I should let her go, set her free from this life, but I’m entirely too fucking selfish to live without her now that she’s been mine.
“I’m so sorry, babe,” I whisper into her hair as I cradle her sobbing form in my arms. “Shhh. It’s over now, and no one will ever hurt anyone in this town again.”
She nods, sniffling as she tries to rein in the tears. “I know, Enzo. I trust you.” She lifts so I can see her gorgeous face and wipes her cheeks. “I always knew Jack was bad, but I never thought he was capable of the things he’s done in the past few days. There’s no telling where this town would be if you hadn’t shown up here.”
My heart thumps as the truth rocks me. “This wouldn’t have happened,” I say, sighing. “At least not now, not this way.” I brush my thumb along her swollen brow. “Your face wouldn’t be fucked up like this.” I move my hand to her side and add pressure, watching her wince just slightly. “You wouldn’t be bruised and beat up if it weren’t for me. My actions ratcheted up his actions, and our relationship was the icing on the cake. I brought you into this by bringing you into my life.”
“And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She wraps her arms around my neck and fists my long curls, pulling my forehead against hers. “Because I love you, too.”
“I know, babe.” I smirk. “Your body’s been screaming it for weeks.”
“Such a cocky bastard,” she teases.
My smirk falls and seriousness seeps into my tone. “Can you imagine how it felt to have you taken from me without making sure you knew I felt the same?” I blow out a heavy breath, my heart giving a solid thump as I recall the pain of finding out she was gone. “I’m not afraid of anything, but I was terrified I’d never get to tell you how much I loved you.”
She releases my hair and cups my cheeks in her soft palms, her eyes shining. “None of that matters anymore. We’re here, alive, and totally in love.”
“That’s nice and all, but maybe you could face the table so we can eat,” Layla says, setting a plate down in front of me and giving my girl the bitch brow.
Randi sticks out her tongue at her friend, but sadly, she turns to face the table anyway. “Jealous much?”
Layla’s cheeks turn bright red as she looks anywhere but at Mikey. “Not on your life.”
I chuckle and lean forward, opening my mouth so Randi can spoon some eggs into it. Breakfast is fun because it’s full of teasing between my girl and her best friend. They both seem happy, and that’s the fucking best I can hope for after the ordeal they’ve been through.
When we’re done, Randi stands. “I need to get dressed for the hospital.”
“Me too.” I follow her like the sick little lap dog I am.
“You know it isn’t necessary for you to go,” she comments as she leads the way to my room. “Crescent City is safe now, and I know you and my dad aren’t the best of friends.”
I grab her hand and spin her, pressing her against the closed door. “After what I just went through, you’ll be lucky if I ever let you leave my sight again.” I tug at the hem of her T-shirt, tossing it over my shoulder. “I can’t bear the thought of you being away from me.” My lips go to her neck, shoulder, chest. “I’m terrified of losing you again.” She cries out when I sink my teeth into the tender flesh just above her collar bone, her hands wrapping tightly in my hair. “Please say you’ll let me be an overbearing asshole for the foreseeable future.”
“Yessss,” she moans, pushing my head lower.
I drop to my knees, peeling her leggings down her gorgeous thighs. “Are you going to straddle my face? Let me lap that divine pussy?” Her mutterings are incoherent, and I smirk against her skin as I lick and suck my way down her stomach. “Open up for me, babe.”
Of its own accord, her leg lifts and settles over my shoulder, giving me prime access to the most delicious part of her. My mouth waters at the sight of her pale pink flesh spread open and served up to me on a silver fucking platter. As I lean forward, only one word echoes through my mind.
Mine.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Or Is It?
Three months later
A pretty nurse walks in with a beaming smile. “You’re up early, Mr. Doe.”
I want to return her smile, but the bandages make it impossible. No one wants to see my crusted up lips anyway. “Call me J,” I say, my throat tightening as I push out the words. “And you are?”
“I’m Anita, your new daytime nurse,” she says, moving over to place the cuff around my upper arm. “Keshia got a job at a local doctor’s office, which is cushy compared to working the burn unit here at the hospital.”
Taking my blood pressure is a lesson in patie
nce. My entire body is burned in some way, but the worst of it, my head and hands, are especially tender. The spot where the cuff goes is one of the better spots, but moving at all causes my head to throb.
“I’m trying to be easy,” she says when I hiss, her chocolate eyes peering down at me. “This is my first go at it, but we’ll get a routine down soon enough.”
“It’s fine.” My voice is crackly and gruff. I hate the way it sounds, but like every other thing about me, it’s also ruined. “I get better every day.”
“Looks like you have another skin graft coming up tomorrow,” she says, recording the pressure reading on my chart. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m not sure how to feel,” I say, not wanting to express my dire need for this to all be over so I can get back to my life’s mission. “I’m ready to be out of this place.”
“I know this can’t be easy, John,” she says, and I interrupt her.
“Please, just J.”
“Well, J.” She smirks. “What I was saying is that I know this is hard, but I’ll give you the best care possible between now and when you’re discharged to the rehabilitation clinic.”
“What?” Anxiety fills me, and my breaths become choppy.
“It’s okay,” she soothes, talking me down from my near panic attack. “If you want to get back on your feet, you’re going to need their expert help. Besides, where else would you go? Without your memories, we don’t know who to contact to help you.”
“Right.” I take several deep breaths, reminding myself that I can get through this. I must get through this. “Thank you, Anita.”
“No problem.” She smiles sweetly. “I’ll be back to check on you after lunch.”
I watch her leave the room, her plump ass swaying as she goes, and I grit my teeth—or what’s left of them. I may be stuck in here now, but one day, my body will be healed. I’ll be able to walk and talk and function on my own.
And when that day comes, so shall my revenge.
To Be Continued
You can find book 2 here:
His Dirty Girl
Book 3 will be live in September!
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Monster Inside Me
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