Nitro's Torment (Sydney Storm MC 2)

Heaviness settled deep in my chest at his declaration. I wanted to reach out and touch him, maybe hold his hand, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Duvall wanted something from me I didn’t have to give. Not anymore. Instead, I pulled a slip of paper out of my bag and slid it across the table to him. “I need these charges to either go away or for her to be given a good behaviour bond only.”

He took the paper, his eyes never leaving mine. Searching for something. What, I wasn’t sure. He’d never find it, though. Duvall was always looking for the good in people, the redeemable. I didn’t have much of either anymore.

As I walked away from him a few minutes later, I said, “For the record, you could never have loved my demons, Duvall. If you got a good look at them, you’d run as fast as you could. And I wouldn’t blame you.”

* * *

“Holy fuck, Tatum. Who the hell did that to you?” My cousin, Monroe, stared at me in shock, her heavily made-up eyes glued to the bruises visible on my arms, neck and face.

I grabbed her around the arm as I moved past the front counter of her tattoo parlour where she stood. Pulling her with me, I said, “You need to make me a coffee.”

Her brows arched. “Shit.” She knew that meant I had something to tell her that she probably wouldn’t like. Glancing at Fox, the only staff member there that day, she said, “I’ll be out the back for a bit. Yell if you need me.”

He looked up from the tattoo he was working on, showing me those beautiful blue eyes of his that I could get lost in for hours, and smiled as he nodded. Fox and I had a history of the kind of sex you had when you were lonely or just needed to work the tension out of your body. He was the perfect guy for that, being that he ran from relationships as much as I did.

When I had Monroe alone in her staff kitchen, I closed the door and took a moment to collect my thoughts. “He’s dead.”

She stilled and her breathing slowed. Her long eyelashes did a slow sweep of her skin as she closed her eyes briefly. She then exhaled the kind of breath that felt like it had been trapped inside for years. I knew, because I’d exhaled that same breath. “Good.”

I leaned against the counter, placing my hands on it either side of me. “He did this to me.”

She lowered her gaze to take in the bruises again. “Babe, how are you even opening that eye? It’s so fucking swollen. And how the hell did you go from him beating you to you killing him? Have you got some Lara Croft moves I don’t know about? Why the hell were you alone with him? And did you go to the doctor? I can take you if you haven’t.”

I smiled. Monroe was my person, and she always wrapped me in love. She never failed to find a way to sprinkle some light over my darkness. “Billy called a doctor this morning. Nothing broken and nothing they can do for me. I’ll heal in time.” I lowered my voice, although I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like speaking softly would change anything about what I was going to tell her. “I found him at the casino and went back to his room with him. I would have killed him if things hadn’t turned to shit. A Storm biker saved me. He killed him.” We never had secrets and I knew she would keep this information to herself.

Her eyes widened. She knew this was bad news. Monroe had been around the block a few times with me; she understood how this city worked. “Fuck, the fucking irony. You replace one nightmare with another, and they both involve bloody bikers.” She frowned. “He left you there?”

I shook my head. “No, he took me with him. I know you don’t love Billy, but I’m only breathing today because of my association with him.”

She scrubbed a hand over her face. “Jesus, Tatum.” Pointing a finger at me, she said, “You have to get out of Sydney now. Right fucking now!”

She’d been telling me this for months and I’d been ignoring her, needing to see retribution for Chris’s death. What she didn’t grasp was that now it was too late. “I can’t. Storm have people everywhere, Monroe. You don’t escape them. And they have ways of using family to get what they want. I won’t put you in it like that.”

“Fucking put me in it! I don’t care. I just want this to all stop for you.” Moving closer to me, she said, “Your life went to shit when Randall screwed you over and I just want to see you smile again.”

I took her hand. “I’m safe so long as I don’t talk. And I have no plans to do that. I just would have preferred not to get myself on their radar.”

She processed that and then said, “Do you want to stay with me?”

I tried not to smile. “So you can keep me safe?”

Her smile matched mine. “Smartass. I could, you know. You might be Lara Croft reincarnated, but I’ve got skills.”

Letting go of her hand, I said, “I know. I’ve seen you take guys on. You’ve injured many balls in your life.”

“They all deserved it.” She sighed. “I’m sick of men, Tatum. Why can’t we find the good ones? They have to exist somewhere out there.”

“What’s your definition of good, though? Maybe you’re expecting something that just isn’t realistic.” I was glad to change the course of the conversation from Storm to her issues with men. Talking about bikers was the last thing I wanted to be doing. And Monroe and I were so close that I knew she’d changed the subject on purpose.

“At this point, I’d settle for a few things—honesty being at the top of the list.”

“A-fucking-men. What else?”

“God, I just want someone who knows when to take charge and when to back the fuck off and give me some space. I’m sick and tired of men who want to try to control me, or at the other end of the spectrum, men who don’t have any balls to go with their dick. And a guy who picks up after himself would be fucking awesome. Oh, and a piercing or two. Before I die, I need to be fucked with a pierced dick.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Good luck on finding a man who picks up after himself. I’m sure the rest should be manageable. And if push comes to shove, surely you could just sleep with a guy who gets his dick pierced here.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you, I don’t sleep with customers.”