Sinfully Scarred (Reckless Bastards MC 2)

Willingly sharing my body with someone was an act of trust and intimacy that scared the hell out of me. I just wish I’d realized it before now—before another earth-shattering night spent with Cash’s big body wrapped around mine. The man was a master lover, using his entire body to bring mine to unspeakable heights. And he made the most delicious noises when I explored his big, strong body. I woke up and turned to him, and only one word came to mind. More. I wanted—no I needed—more of this man. My body buzzed with need like I just couldn’t get enough of him, and that scared the shit out of me.

Yesterday morning after he kissed me until I was on the verge of begging him to stay, I gave him my number. A way to get in touch with me when he was worried or wanted to come by. Now that he knew why it was a big deal, I knew he’d call even if it was to tell me he was on my doorstep waiting.

I smiled as I thought about how grumpy he got when he was worried because an alpha like him didn’t do vulnerability. It was nice to have someone in my life who seemed to give a damn about me, but it would take some time to get used to. Probably a long time.

Or maybe I was fooling myself, thinking I could have anything that resembled normal after what I’d been through. A guy like Cash would probably want someone with less baggage, less damage. Eventually the nightmares, my hang ups about security and visitors, all of it would grow tiresome. He’d get sick of it just when I was getting used to having him around, and then he would leave. I sighed. Why did the thought of losing him make my heart feel hollow with a dull ache? I didn’t like that shit. Not at all.

I couldn’t get used to this, I had to back away.

No more sleepovers.

No more sex.

No more Cash.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! “No. More. Cash!” I said out loud just to get it through my thick skull.

Yet when he called later that afternoon, I answered halfway through the second ring. Weak, that’s what I was. Fucking weak. “Yeah?”

“What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m already cooking so if you want, you can stop by.” He went silent because apparently, I surprised him as much as I’d surprised myself.

“I’ll be there in ten. Wear something sexy,” he chuckled and disconnected the call.

“Fucking weak, that’s what you are.” I told myself that at least three times before I put the chicken, potatoes, and vegetables in the oven to roast. And though I wouldn’t change my clothes—a girl had to have some pride, after all—the cook time would allow for one more taste of that sweet man.

Fifteen minutes later a knock sounded and I went to the door, ready to give him crap for being late. I paused a fraction of a second before turning the knob as a weird sensation skittered down my spine. But it was too late. I groaned. “What are you doing here, Wagman? And how the fuck do you even know where I live?

“Why, sweetheart, Minxy baby, I came for you,” he said with that smarmy smile that made my stomach turn. “Ain’t you happy to see me?”

I didn’t get the chance to answer because a meaty fist flew at my face too fast to move, and then shit went black.

Chapter Eight

Cash

Minx’s invitation surprised the hell out of me, but I wasn’t one to ask why she had a change of heart. I grabbed a bottle of tequila and her favorite pistachio ice cream and made my way to the small cottage. I climbed the stairs with a smile already splitting my face, ready to kiss the hell out of her, but that all quickly faded away as I caught the door partially open. And was that…blood on the floor?

I pushed it open and called out for her. “Minx, you in here?” I already knew the answer, but I went in and checked all the rooms to make sure she wasn’t hurt in there somewhere. She wasn’t. I pulled out my phone knowing I would need the help of CAOS to get her back. “Mick, get to Minx’s ASAP. Her door was open, and there’s blood on the floor.” I hung up without waiting for a reply.

I went back to the guest bedroom and pulled open the sliding doors that held the surveillance system of the property, going through the footage since I last spoke to her. Already a sick feeling settled in my gut. Wagman knocked and she answered the door far too quickly to have checked first, so I knew she thought it was me, and that was confirmed at the confused expression on her face at her visitor. They spoke briefly and then that motherfucker punched her, right in the face. He caught her before she hit the ground, making sure he felt up her titties as he did.

“What’s up?”

I looked up at Mick feeling more helpless than I had since leaving the Navy. “Wagman. That sorry motherfucker has Minx.” I raked my hands through my hair and paced the room while Mick viewed the video. Hang on, baby, I’m coming, I promised her.

“Let’s ride, Cash!” Mick ordered, breaking my

frantic state, and I followed him out, making sure to close and lock her door. Full of rage and unable to concentrate, I didn’t even know what the fuck to do first. Where would he have taken her? That’s what I needed to know so I could save Minx and then fucking annihilate Wagman.

Mick put a hand to my chest to stop my pacing on the street. “Dante called. He saw Wagman in a truck headed inside a building near the docks. Owned by Lazarus,” he added ominously.

I nodded. “Weapons. I only have my nine and a blade, you?”

Mick grinned. “I got Big Mama”—he smacked his hip affectionately where his .45 was— “a .38, plus a blade.”

I nodded with a wry grin. “That’s all?” He shrugged and stole the keys from my hand before hopping into the passenger seat. “Let’s stop at my place first.”