Girth kicked his feet again when he didn’t respond and the guy shook his head.
“Yeah. Fuck!” he groaned and clutched his wound tighter.
They were running guns. This was our territory. No one runs guns on our territory. I lunged towards him again and he cowered, bringing his hand up to shield his face from another punch. I fisted the collars of his jacket in my hands and pulled him close to my face, so he could look into my eyes. So there was no doubt left in his mind.
“Go back to your pussy pals and tell them we’re coming for them,” I snarled and then released him. The guy fell tumbling back on the pavement again, but now tried to slide away from me.
“We know about the guns and picking up kids, and if they don’t stop hitting the pawn shop, there is going to be war,” King spoke in a calmer, more collected voice to the guy. He shook his head and King came over to me. We were going to let this bastard go.
“Someone woke up cranky,” Girth said with a laugh, following us towards our bikes now. King was walking beside me, keeping an eye on me.
“You left suddenly from the bar,” King said.
I rubbed the back of my hand on my forehead, realizing that I must have left a trail of blood on my face now.
“I’ve been fucked up drinking. Need to catch up on sleep,” I said, putting on my helmet as I approached my bike. King didn’t look like he bought the explanation, but Girth hadn’t caught on.
“Yeah, get some beauty sleep in ya. Maybe have a mud bath and sip some cucumber water while you’re at it,” he said, laughing by himself. I could still hear him laughing as I rode away from them.
Chapter 14
Ava
When I woke up, it was morning and I recognized the room immediately. It was where I had fallen asleep the previous night, in the arms of a man who had made me feel safe.
Commando was lying next to me, his arm splayed defensively over my breasts and he was sleeping with his lips pressed together in a firm line. I couldn’t help but smile. I remembered everything clearly, every move, every touch, every thrust and I felt a quiver in my belly. I wanted him again.
I moved, his arm slipping over my breasts and that was when I saw his hand. There was blood, dried and caked on his knuckles and a cry rose up my throat. I wriggled up and sat up in bed and he groaned and moved in his sleep, turning his face away from me and towards the window.
I wanted to touch his hand, feel the bruise under my fingertips but I was afraid of waking him. What happened last night? Where had he gone while I was sleeping? An electric shock ran down my spine, when I remembered the look of rage in his eyes. Every time he glanced at the bruise on my arm, that rage returned. For a moment, I wondered if he had found Blaine. How could he? I hadn’t told him the name of my ex boyfriend. Who had he gone out and punched the crap out of? In the middle of the night no less.
I stepped out of bed, and reached for his t-shirt on the floor. I slid it over my head and it fell, oversized and loose over my body. Just a few more minutes. I’d let him sleep for a little while longer…
In the kitchen, I opened and shut the cupboards to look for something to make for him. Everything was empty. The fridge had four eggs in a forgotten carton, and the rest of the shelves were stacked with beers. What did the guy eat? Did he just survive on alcohol and fresh air?
I opened the kitchen windows as I cracked the eggs open on a frying pan. The smell of fried eggs filled the kitchen and a thrill ran down my spine. I was looking forward to seeing his face when he woke up. Placing the fried eggs on a plate, I opened the freezer and thankfully he had some ice. My instinct was to put some ice on his bruise.
Filling a glass with a few ice cubes, I carried the glass and the plate of eggs to the bedroom. I nearly gasped with surprise when I saw him sitting up in bed, the sheets covering his groin and his eyes looking expectantly at the door.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush with excitement. His blue eyes were piercing my soul. His tattoos looked dark and threatening in the morning light.
“I was already awake when you slipped out of bed,” he said and ran a hand through his ruffled brown hair. His stubble looked darker on his jaws, and his biceps bulged as he placed his arms on folded up knees.
I walked towards him, suddenly not sure if I could balance the things I was carrying. He had a destabilizing effect on me, and I felt silly…like a giddy teenager.
“I brought you some ice,” I said and looked at his knuckles. He followed my gaze and I thought I saw a sense of self-consciousness in his eyes.
I placed the plate of eggs on the bed beside him and picked an ice cube from the glass. His hands remained on his knees, and I gently touched his bloodied knuckles with the ice cube. If it stung him, he wasn’t showing it. Commando didn’t make a single move.
r />
I slid the ice cube over his skin, watching as the dried blood began to get wet again.
“You should have done this last night. It would have helped with the pain,” I said and when I looked up, I saw that he was watching me.
He reached for my wrist and my breath caught in my throat. With his eyes fixed on me, he plucked the ice cube out of my hand and instead of dropping it to the ground, he brought it close to my face.
My lips instinctively fell open, my heart thudding against my chest because I had no idea what he planned on doing next.