Page 220 of Falling in Reverse

Bay squeals out in surprise, cowering closer to me, her balled-up hands sandwiched between our chests. “Hold on to me with your thighs,” I whisper to her, hinting that I’m having a hell of a time, holding her wrist, weight, and keeping my cock nestled between her thighs. “Did you like that?” I say, loud enough to her and everyone else listening. “I don’t like sharing. Especially when I know this pussy is tight...your ass would be glorious.”

“Get off—” A distinct whizz of air cuts her off, along with the crack of a gun, and I smile.

My prayer has been answered.

The ruckus of shock and surprise from the assholes present is the only distraction I need to drop Bay to her feet, then yank up her shorts, before pulling her to the ground for fake cover against the fender of my car.

“Alright, baby”—I glance over my shoulder to find AKs and Glocks aimed and going off in the direction of the shot—“this is goodbye for now.”

“Reeve, you?—”

“Stay in South Shore until you hear from me.” I meet her eyes, which are now dark against the lack of light. With everything in me, I long to see them, how they read, and how much she hates me at the moment. “And I’m going to apologize again…because he’s not ready for you to see him yet.”

Her brows immediately furrow, and I don’t double-guess, check, or procrastinate just like I have before.

Even if I have to physically hurt her, which is the last fucking thing I’d ever want to do, this is life or death.

This is a game.

This is her life, and I will not allow it to be taken.

“Who?” Bay’s question is laced with confusion. Her soft voice and heavy pants fill my ears, and my chest tightens into a taut ball of this is it.

Goodbye, Bay.

“Wait in South Shore.”

“But—” My fist flies into Bay’s face so hard it hurts my knuckles, but not any more than the ending of our story that was just blooming.

I can keep telling myself that knocking her out is the only way she’s getting out of here without being passed on to someone else after my fake raping session and that’s true. However, it’ll never hold.

I catch Bay’s head before it falls mercilessly to the unforgiving ground and pluck my cell from the top of my ride, knowing I’m not a target in this shootout.

“Thanks, brother,” I tell Torin, who’s surprisingly still on the line.

“She alright?”

“Pissed…” I glance down at her unconscious and peaceful face, a strand of raven hair carelessly lying on her forehead. “But fine.”

“Good…you good?”

My nostrils flare, because I’m not, but I’m not going to make this into something. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t call the men off yet,” Torin replies. “Let him have his fun with a couple of them before you do. He’s upset.”

I bob my head, even though he can’t see it. I don’t want to leave her, but I have no right to be around when she does come to.

“He’ll take her home.”

Right.

She’s in good hands now.

Better than mine, at least.

Because my fantasy of touching her will never play out like it has a million times in my head.

Bay Astor and I, we’re fucking done.

to be continued…