Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5) (41 page)

“I’ll tell you what your motherfucking fate is…it’s riding alongside me. It’s sitting at the left side of my table and being the fucking soldier you signed up to be. That is your fucking fate, Blackie. Your fate is your place in your club, it’s the patch sewn into your cut, not this shit,” he growled as he glanced around the visitor’s room.

“The club needs you on the outside,” he seethed as he leaned back in his chair and stared back at me.

“And you?” I challenged. “Where do you need me?”

“That depends on how you answer the next question,” he replied, propping his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Riggs spotted the father of the kid arguing with someone you know pretty fucking well,” he said pointedly, pausing to chew on his lip before slapping his palms against the table. “Boots.”

“Boots was with the father of the kid that tried to rape Lace?”

Everything inside me went numb as I stared at Jack waiting for him to answer.

“Apparently, they had a plan. The Corrupt Bastards have an online gaming site and the father owed the club a nice chunk of change. Boots was going to squash the debt if his kid got close to Lacey— “      

“Listen to me, you got to shut Boots down,” I cut him off, leaning over the table. “You hear me? You need to put that motherfucker down before he gets to her,” I demanded, pushing back my hair and zeroing my eyes onto his.

“Tell me why,” he ordered. “Tell me why Boots is going after my daughter, Black,” he whisper shouted, leaning his body further over the table. “Say it!” he growled, through clenched teeth.

Game over.

I leaned forward, met his gaze head on and gave him the truth that’s been suffocating me.

“Because she’s mine,” I seethed, waiting for his reaction but he kept his face like stone as he stared at me. “Boots knows, he’s been watching us for months.”

“Months.”

“He’s been watching me since I was in the hospital,” I confessed. “I was going to tell you but then I went up to meet with him and he knew. So, I broke things off with her. I made it ugly so she’d hate me and stay away from me, hoping that Boots got the message she didn’t matter,” I paused. “He saw me love her, and I needed to reverse that shit.”

“Love her,” he hissed.

“Love her,” I confirmed. “Now you got what you wanted from me, time for you to get out of here and take care of him. You do what you got to do to keep her safe,” I demanded. “Or you get me the fuck out of here so I can do it… your choice.”

Jack lifted his head, his dark eyes pierced mine and watched him morph into the Bulldog as he lunged for me, pulling me by my prison garb over the table.

“You motherfucker!” He roared as the C.O.’s moved quickly through the visitor’s room and pulled the alarm. “You put a claim on my daughter behind my back and then you fucking toyed with her head!”

“Only reason I fucked with her head was to save her goddamn life. Trust me man, never wanted to let her go. Never!”

The correction officer’s pulled him back, forcing him to release his hold on me.

“You have no idea what you did,” he hissed, fighting against the guards. “Had a fucking doctor come to my house and diagnose my daughter a manic depressive and you go and fuck with her head,” he growled. “This is over! You! You’re done. I’ll be waiting for you on the other side Black… me, the motherfucking Bulldog.”

He always had the last word.

This time his parting words had the ability to wreck me.

Manic depressive.

My Lace.

“I came here, hoping someone, anyone, would see me.”

“I see you.”

“You see what I allow you to. No one sees the real me,”

No.

Why didn’t I pay closer to attention?

I threaded my fingers through my hair, tugging viciously on the ends before slamming my head against the metal table as they buzzed Jack out of the visitor’s room.

I came clean and gave him the truth… my truth, I loved Lace.

And in turn he gave me her truth.

My Lace was battling a disease she had no control over, and all the while she was trying to better me she was suffering in silence. I should’ve been the one helping her, giving her whatever she needed, supporting her the way she tried to support me.

I was always looking to save her.

I never thought she needed to be saved from herself.

I never wanted to inflict that type of pain on her. I wanted to hurt her, yes, make her hate me because hating me kept her away and kept her safe. I never would’ve done it if I knew what my words could do to her.

I’ve seen Jack go over the edge time and time again, sometimes it’s a great big event that pushes him other times it’s nothing. When the maker comes out and play there’s no rhyme or reason.

“Petra, let’s go,” one of the C.O.’s demanded, grabbing my arm and pulling me onto my feet.

She needs me and I’m not there.

She needs me to right everything wrong I put in her head. She needs to know she’s more than what I let her think she was… she was fucking everything. She was my heart.

“Let’s go!” he pulled my arm again, but I kept my feet firmly planted on the ground.

“I want my phone call,” I demanded.

And one more chance.

Chapter Thirty-four

I took three strides, swallowing up the floor space and braced my hands against the cement wall, breathing heavily as I tried not to scream in frustration. The cell door slammed shut behind me, echoing off the bare walls confining me to my memories.  I cursed the day my demoralized self, had noticed Lacey as a woman. A goddamn woman with a tiny waist and hips meant to hold onto as I bent her over and appreciated the sweetest ass I ever laid eyes on. Not to mention tits that could make any man lose his mind.

It was so fucking easy to lose my mind and forget my morals.

Morals I still wasn’t sure I had in the first place.

I curse the day she stopped being Jack’s daughter and became the object of my desire and my affection because it was all over from that point forward.

I was too wrapped up in consuming her and feeding off her light to notice she was crying out for help. That night she came to the Dog Pound she wasn’t a girl looking for a man to pay her attention and take her virginity. No, Lacey was looking for someone to help her, someone to share her pain with.

I waited for the C.O.’s to change shifts and then asked to use the phone. Things were different than they used to be, now you used your commissary money to make a call instead of calling collect and hoping it was accepted. 

The officer who brought me down to the call room was all right. He wasn’t a ball buster and didn’t give two fucks about anything but punching a clock and bringing home a paycheck. He wasn’t on a power trip, just a guy who worked as a correction officer because the city finally called his ass and offered him a job.

“Take your time,” he said, turning his back and giving me some privacy.

“Thanks, bro,” I called, picking up the phone and leaning my head against the wall trying to debate on what the fuck I would say. I wasn’t even sure I should call her after everything I said and everything I did. Being so close to Jack all these years I knew firsthand how delicate someone’s mind was when they were mentally ill. After a while I learned Jack’s trigger points and could avoid them. Lacey was different, for all I knew I was the trigger point, the thing that set her maker off.  I wasn’t sure if calling her would cause her more harm than good.

Then I picked up the phone and dialed the number of one person who could help guide me and wouldn’t turn her back on me. All I had to do was remind her of three words and a promise I made when we were dying.

I waited, listened patiently as the phone rang and then her voice reached me. It was strange how a familiar voice could make you feel the repercussions of your actions and remind you of life on the outside, life beyond the prison cell.

“Hello?”

“You made me promise if we lived I’d tell you what Leather and Lace meant,” I rasped, clearing my throat to mask the emotion in my voice.

“I’m still waiting,” Reina said softly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” I swallowed. “It’s me and Lacey. It’s Lacey, she’s my Lace. She’s the face I pictured when we thought we would die. It’s her face I hung onto and wished to see again,” I admitted, letting out a ragged breath.

“I know,” she confessed. “I’ve known since the hospital she was your reason, your why and your purpose,” she added.

“Jack was here,” I started. “I told him the truth, Reina. You might want to prepare yourself for that ride,” I warned.

“Blackie, you didn’t call me to warn me about Jack,” she coaxed.

“No, I called you because I didn’t know who else to call. I’m stuck here when I should be there, with her, helping her through this shit. I’m calling you because I need to know she’s okay. I’m calling you because I need you to remind her I’m here and I’m begging her to hang on to those three words. I’m begging
you
to help me remind her of them.”

“I’m sure she’d want to hear them from you and not me,” Reina said.

“I don’t want to upset her,” I rasped.

“Blackie, you want a reminder? Here’s a reminder. You told me to hang on because Jack needed me. You told me he loved me and I was the one who fixed him, made me believe I had to get back to him because I was what he needed most in this world,” she recalled. “Now do yourself a favor and make the call because the one thing Lacey needs most right now is hearing your voice remind her of everything she knows in heart but is too weak minded to hang on to.”

I remained quiet as I soaked up her advice.

“Are you there? Did you hear me? She needs you,” Reina called. “And in case you need another reminder, something to force you out of your own hell and bring you back to her, let me give you what you need to hear too…Leather and Lace. Make the call Blackie, and make it right, make it count,” she challenged.

“I hear you,” I assured. “Thanks, Reina,” I added huskily.

“Just returning the favor, my friend,” she replied.

Make it right.

Make it count.

I could do that.

Today was a big day for me. It’s my first day back at school and the first day I took the Lithium the doctor prescribed. Now, it’s a waiting game to see if it works or if we will have to adjust the dosage or possibly try a different medication. I’m confident that I’m going to kick my maker’s ass.

Surviving the rest of this semester? That I’m not so sure about.

“Everyone’s staring at me,” I whispered to Daniela as we walked to the campus store. I know my treatment with Dr. Spiegel is helping because I would be having an anxiety attack right about now, wondering what everyone was saying behind my back.

I knew they were talking.

I just didn’t care.

Let them talk.

“They’re not staring at you,” Daniela insisted. “And even if they are it’s not because of anything you did but because Brandon fooled everyone,” she added.

I don’t know how true that is either. I overheard some girls talking in the bathroom. They think I’m the bitch who had her daddy’s motorcycle gang beat the fuck out of Brandon because I didn’t want to go down on him.

People talk.

They always do.

Even when they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.

After I overheard Riggs tell my father what he heard at the hospital I confided in Daniela, because sometimes you just want to talk to your girlfriends and not a shrink. She admitted that when she was making plans for that night, Brandon asked her if I would be there. Of course that led to a crying session with Daniela, where she blamed what happened to me on herself for a good two hours.

The truth is, it would’ve happened anyway, even if she didn’t invite him or tell him I was going.

He’s still in the coma and every day he doesn’t wake up things become worse for Blackie. I wish I could see him or speak to him especially after what Riggs told my father. I wanted to thank him for what he did. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and I wanted to tell him about everything that was going on with me.