Page 23 of Darkness

She’s dangerous.

Captivating.

Addictive.

She has the potential to be my undoing, if the threads to this cord haven’t started to unravel completely already.

To her, I’m her captor. A man holding her against her will. The man who let her sister slip away from her grasp and into the arms of pure evil. How can she see me any differently?

Waking up in my arms the way she did probably freaked her the fuck out. Even though it felt all kinds of right to me, it freaked me out, too, if I’m being completely honest with myself. I don’t sleep with women in my bed. I fuck them, then they leave. But Eva isn’t like that.

Sure, I’ve thought about her naked. I’d be a fool not to. She’s sexy as sin, but there’s more to her than her looks. I want to get to know her. I want to save her from everything wicked in the world, including myself.

But I want her.

Everything in me craves her.

I’m no good for someone like Eva. But I will protect her from everything coming our way because she doesn’t deserve the life that was destined for her and Ivy. Neither of them do. I will lay my own life down before I allow either of them to be taken into that world—a world full of torment and danger.

I need to find a way to ensure Eva acknowledges I’m not the bad guy in this scenario.

Even though in every other damn aspect, I probably am.

Chapter Ten

EVA

I’m confused.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be feeling, let alone thinking.

I fell apart last night in Nycto’s arms. He held me. Rocked me to sleep. I never thought, not for a single second, I would ever be as comfortable in his embrace as I was. This entire shitstorm has been a whirlwind. A rollercoaster. Those drugs he dosed me with must have been pretty fucking powerful to make me think anything of him other than the asshole he obviously is—a motorcycle club president working for sex traffickers.

But where would I be if he didn’t take me? Where Ivy is now, I suppose.

My stomach clenches as I sit on the edge of the bed. My mood is falling even more.

Nycto left. I went to the bathroom, and without a word, he left.

I don’t believe his pretty words. He isn’t here to save me. If he were, I’d be walking freely through the clubhouse. I’m not being held locked in his room purely for my own protection. The man doesn’t have my best interests at heart. Nycto must have something in store for me.

He’s lulling me into a false sense of security.

Trying to manipulate me into thinking he’s the good guy.

I won’t fall for it.

A jostling noise makes my head snap to the door. It creaks open, and I sit taller, waiting for Nycto to walk through, but my eyes widen when a tall woman carrying some books steps in. I tense. She appears rough around the edges. Her hair is onyx black, and she has a cluster of star tattoos on her left temple. Her plump lips are perfectly covered in vibrant red lipstick. Her arms are lined with black and gray tattoos, even down to her knuckles. She’s hardcore, right down to the black leather pants and skin-tight boob tube she’s wearing. She smiles, closing the door behind her.

I don’t miss the sound of it locking from the outside as she struts over to me in her clear platform high heels. How can she walk in those things?

“Hi, Eva. I’m Trixie.” Her smooth and velvety voice has a natural calming effect despite her looks.

I remember everything Nycto’s told me about her. Cuban-sandwich extraordinaire, head club girl, and attending culinary school. She doesn’t look like the Trixie I imagined, though I guess I didn’t really picture anything when Nycto was talking about her. If I had pictured Trixie from Nycto’s description of her, this Kat Von D knock-off certainly wouldn’t be it.

Too stunned, I can’t manage to say anything back.

Her lips turn up in the most gorgeous of ways. She appears grunge, punk, and stunning. The way her face lights up like she’s glowing when she beams puts me at ease.

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