Page 54 of Tempting Fate

Zeke’s managed to make use of the small amount of bare skin he had left when we got together to chronicle our life together. Over his heart are bright-blue lilies with the words metukà shelì, or ‘my sweetheart’ in Hebrew, woven through the shading of the petals. It is his most recent tattoo, added when we got engaged, although it’s not that much fresher than the addition to the sleeve that covers his right arm—my favourite of his body art.

When he reaches the spot where I’m perched on our bed, I run my fingernail over the classic alien skull with its tongue hanging out that denotes his road name before I sketch the outline of the female version he had added after I accepted his “Property of Venom” patch. Venom in a leather cut and She-Venom with a crown of blue lilies. Two unfit for purpose creatures stuck in this unaccepting world. Two aliens trying to find a way to exist on earth by hiding inside socially acceptable skin suits.

Which is apt because we both feel a little inhuman, especially when we’re apart.

I have the same image tattooed between my shoulder blades and it always draws queries whenever I wear a tank top. My explanation about the mark that signifies someone as a biker’s old lady doesn’t mean much to civilians, so I usually cut off their line of questioning by pointing out that Zeke looks like a younger, taller, bulkier version of Tom Hardy with better teeth and a haircut from this millennium.

The massive cherub holding the scales of justice that dominates the right-hand side of his torso, from his collarbones to his belly button, is blended seamlessly with lilies similar to those in his chest piece. Although his lower half is covered with jeans right now, I know that his skin is tattooed from his collar bones to his knees, a living, breathing canvas, with only a small patch on his inner forearms and the skin at the front of his neck bare.

A day after our engagement, he informed me that he’s saving the bare skin he has left for the names of any children we’re lucky enough to be blessed with.

I pray I’ll be able to fulfil that dream for him.

“Oglin’ me won’t get you outta talkin’, sweet thing.”

“That’s a shame,” I quip. Flicking the bar through his left nipple—the result of a drunken bet with Slash—I angle my head to smile at him. “Ogling you is in my top five favourite pastimes.”

His lips quirk into the ghost of a grin that dies in a heartbeat. When he sits on the bed next to me, his extra weight causes me to slide into him. Zeke wraps a heavy arm around my shoulder and says, “I’m askin’ you one last time what really went down between you and that piece of shit last night.”

There it is.

The second request.

Even if it’s more of a statement than a question at this point.

My man’s control snaps before I can find the right words.

“Lily, just fuckin’ tell me, please. The truth can’t be as fucked up as the bullshit circulatin’ in my head already.”

His eyes are wide, pleading with me, and I can see he’s hurt by my reticence to talk to him.

Breathing deep and holding it in my chest, I let my lungs deflate in a rush as I lay out the truth without cushioning the blow. “All right, I’ll tell you. After he had me abducted by Hugh and his team of sociopaths, Alex hit me, kissed me, fingered me... I knew he was going to rape me again, eventually, after he’d killed you and as many Shamrocks as he could, so I promised him my submission, stripped in front of him, then let him touch my tits as a distraction while I locked the handcuffs in place, then I shot him twice before I escaped out of the window.”

I yell the last part of my confession at him.

Literally.

Like an unfeeling bitch, I volley the truth as if it’s a landmine.

Of course, the second the words have left my mouth, I’m appalled with myself. I can’t bear to look at Zeke. Not after the shitty way I delivered the answers he sought. Rationally, I know that I shouldn’t feel guilty about my actions yesterday, yet I do. I can’t help it. The knowledge that I submitted to Alex when I’ve always promised myself that I wouldn’t break for him is crushing me.

A sob bubbles from my swollen lips.

I throw myself face down on the bed.

My guilt is so heavy, I can feel it physically weighing me down.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” When he pauses, I peek to the side and see that Zeke is running his hands through his hair. The sound of ragged breathing and his foot bouncing fills the room as he fights to compose himself. After a minute, the bed ceases shuddering from his shaking leg, and he places his hand on my shoulder. “Metukà shelì, you can’t lob somethin’ like that at me, then leave me to fuckin’ work it out on my own… Tell me. Did he force himself on you? God, Lil, it’s obvious that he hurt you.” Dropping to his side, he rubs my upper arm as he whispers from behind me, “I want to know everythin’… from the beginnin’.”

I keep my face buried in our bedspread as I finally tell him everything.

I explain that I was snatched from our front yard after driving home unescorted.

I admit that Hugh tried to assault me before I learnt that Alex was behind my kidnapping.

I detail how he punished me by violating my body with his fingers when I refused to accept his threat against everyone I love.

Swallowing the final vestiges of my dented pride, I elaborate on how I was hidden in the back bedroom with Alex when Zeke knocked on the front door. That it was alarmed and impossible to escape with a madman locked away with me.

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