Page 33 of Tempting Fate

Resembling a goldfish, he glares back at me, apparently mute, his lips parting and meeting without sound emerging. I offer him a shrug, then scoop up the keys to the handcuffs from the carpet where he tossed them after he let me go. When my plan was formulating, I was worried that he would stash the keys back in the drawer. It would’ve foiled my plot from the outset, but he was too lost in his own omnipotence to see his mistake, so I took the universe’s compliance as a sign to commit to my plan.

When I dangle them from my fingers and giggle, Alex snarls at me, “You’re going to regret this when I get hold of you. Enjoy your little power play while it lasts, Jezebel. There’s no way for you to leave.”

Rather than engage with him because I’m a little afraid that he’s right, since I haven’t actually worked out the next step in my plan yet, I concentrate on remaining out of Alex’s reach while I strip off the expensive jewellery that he put on me and cover myself with the t-shirt and boxers he gave me to wear. Once I’ve slid Zeke’s engagement ring back onto my finger and pulled my necklace over my head, I start poking around the room.

I check the shuttered window.

It’s locked tight.

Ducking into the bathroom, I discover that it’s windowless.

Anxiety begins to build, so I splash water on my face to calm myself. The reflection that greets me in the mirror does little to console me, my swollen eye and the dried blood crusted around my injuries don’t exactly imbue me with confidence.

Despite that, when I step back out into the bedroom, I have my game face solidly in place. Spinning with an energy sapping combination of worry and indecision, my mind seeks comfort. My thumb moves my engagement ring back and forth on my finger as Alex regards me with antipathy from his perch on the bed. I do my best to return his perusal with contempt. Knowing that it won’t take much to dent my flagging hopes of escape, I decide to take charge of the situation. Safely out of reach, I sight the handgun directly between Alex’s eyes.

The way he recoils is a boon to my fading assurance in my capabilities.

My tone is mocking as I say, “Oh, don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you if you promise to leave me alone once I leave here. Otherwise, I’ll have to come after everyone you love, one by one.”

Alex rolls his eyes as I paraphrase his threats back to him. “Why would I do that now that I know how well you can prick tease? That was some strip tease, angel… I can’t wait to see what you give me next.” I swallow down the bile that enters my throat with his reminder of what I just did. Of course, he sees my reaction and uses it against me. “How are you going to explain that little show to your biker scum?”

Doing my best to act unaffected, I shrug.

“Maybe Zeke and I should get together and exchange notes,” Alex continues. “He can tell me how it feels to fuck my sloppy seconds, and I can ask him what it’s like to live with the knowledge that he’ll eventually lose you to his best friend.”

My mouth engages before my brain can warn me not to buy into his game. “You’re disgusting.”

“Maybe so,” he tells me with a sneer. “But I’m still right.”

“No, you’re not.”

It’s clear that Alex doesn’t agree.

He grins as he heightens his attack. “Everyone with eyes knows you’ll end up with Slash.” I frown at Alex’s insinuation about me and Zeke’s best friend before deciding that he’s just messing with my head. “At least you have something in common with the blond Goliath. He’s educated. Wealthy. Successful. What can Zeke offer you? He’s about to be an orphan… I don’t think a bloodstained VP patch and a run-down hobby farm are much use to a girl like you.”

Deciding that it’s time to fight fire with fire, I set him straight. “Alexander, darling... how have you not worked out, after all this time, that you had Zeke’s sloppy seconds?” As he digests the meaning of my taunt, I aim for his uninjured thigh and shoot. He screams. I force myself to giggle even as fear continues to dog me. Alex knots the bedspread around his newest bullet wound. “You see. You never had the privilege of being my first, no matter what you tell yourself… Zeke and I snuck away to his hotel room during my eighteenth birthday party. He was my first, and he would’ve been my only, if you hadn’t attacked me later that night... Let me tell you, though, I thought about him the entire time you were inside me, and I made sure he eradicated every memory of your touch as soon as the doctor gave me the all-clear to fuck him again.”

My parting shot is a lie.

It took me almost six months to physically recover and months longer than that to stand even the slightest touch. Alex’s attack broke my body and my psyche. Careful handling by Zeke and lots of love and support from Slash, Toker, Nadia, and my brothers have helped lessen my triggers, but I still flinch if they approach me without warning. I remain broken, even if, through some instinctive ability, Zeke knows how to stop me from spiralling too far nowadays.

Not that my unorthodox coping strategies are any of Alex’s business.

Torment flickers across his face before he schools his expression into a sneer, “What’s your point? You’re my Jezebel… my whore. He might’ve stolen your first time from me, but I’m the one who’s inside you. It’s my voice in your head. My hands that broke your body. My essence that courses through your veins. I live in your mind, in your heart, in your soul… it’ll take more than Zeke’s dick to get me out.”

During Alex’s vile tirade, I hear a tiny knock on the window behind me, two metallic raps, a pause, then another muted bang. The familiarity of the code shocks me, and I flinch when it happens again. Alex lapses into silence, turning an interested gaze on me, so I do the only thing I can to distract him from realising that his hideout is about to be overrun with bikers.

I raise the handgun and fire at him again.

Alex shouts, then he clamps his lips together and twists to peer at the wall behind him. I didn’t shoot him this time. The bullet instead lodged in the plaster next to his head. When Toker bangs on the window again, I cover up his knocking with a loud, sadistic laugh.

If my cousin is here, then Zeke and Slash are, too.

My pulse pounds with unadulterated hope.

“Don’t stress, two bullet wounds are enough for me,” I taunt Alex. He’s frowning, his gaze searches my face as I tell him, “Can’t have you bleeding out—it’d ruin Zeke and Slash’s plans for you. There’s a lot of hanging around involved.”

I give Alex a cheeky wink that turns his face red with rage. Pausing when I hear further noises outside the window, I twirl the handgun around my finger, mimicking Toker’s favourite trick, then I offer Alex what I pray is the last skerrick of my attention in this lifetime.

---