Page 49 of Locke

“Who the fuck are you tellin’?”

“Let’s get back then.”

Chapter 25

Kiki

I just… I needed out of there. I couldn’t be at the clubhouse anymore. I wanted out. I needed to breathe. I need to be as far away from him as possible. I needed the space.

So now I’m at a bar, drinking away the hurt, the pain. I hate him. No, I don’t. I don’t hate him at all. In fact, I think I love him. It’s all too much.

“That’s a lot to drink for a girl your size,” I hear a man’s voice next to me. I smirk and shake my head.

“I’ve had more.”

“You’re not driving home like that, are you?”

“What is it you want? I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I’m just trying to enjoy what’s left of my night,” I tell the man. I glance over at him now, but shit, he’s blurry. Maybe I have drunk too much.

“I was just making small talk. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he says, with a tight smile, although he looks more embarrassed than anything.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be such a bitch. Just a rough night,” I explain.

“I understand that. Anything I can do?”

“No. I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” I slide off my stool and stumble to the back, where the bathrooms are. I walk in and lock the door behind me before handling my business. My headis spinning from the amount of liquor I’ve been drinking, but I shake my head and walk out of the bathroom. As soon as I step out, a hand covers my mouth, but I still try to scream. Nothing comes out as I’m dragged out the back door. I kick and fight as much as I can, clawing at the man’s hand. I dig my nails into his flesh as he pulls me back against him.

My shirt is ripped down the front, and my chest is exposed. I start to turn and run as soon as the asshole releases me. I don’t make it far when he shoves me roughly against the brick wall of the building. My head bounces off the brick, and things go blurry.

I’m thrown to the ground and the guy standing over me smirks.

“Spike’s missed you,” he says with an evil grin in place. Nausea rolls through me, and I close my eyes to keep from throwing up. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. The next thing I know, the asshole is ripping my shorts down my legs. I kick them hard, trying to aim directly at him. I try my hardest to fight the asshole off me as I squirm on the ground, and thankfully, this time, when I scream, something comes out.

“Help!” His hand comes over my mouth, and I take it as a sign. I bite down into his flesh, and he screams, ripping it away from me.

“Help me!” I scream once more. My vision is still hazy at best as the asshole comes back at me. He strips out of his clothes in record time and then kneels at my side. As he grabs my thighs and pries them apart, I hear a growl that sends a shiver down my spine. I close my eyes tightly, knowing that everything is going to be okay now.

“You fuckin’ put your hands on my girl?” Locke yells. Before I know it, the hands are yanked off me, and I hear the commotion of Locke handling that asshole.

“Shit, Kiki. You okay? Did he … fuck!” Hodge asks as he kneels next to me. He lifts my head and rests it in his lap while we all listen to Locke yelling and snarling.

“You fuckin’ tried to rape her?” he roars as I hear the thuds of his fists pounding the guy.

“Stop him. He’ll kill him,” I beg Hodge.

“He’ll get what he deserves,” he answers me as he sits back and pulls his cut off before pulling his shirt over his head. He quickly and gently slides it on me before grabbing my shorts and helping me back into them. When I look over, all I see is blood. Blood on Locke, blood on the brick building. Just … blood.

“Stop him,” I beg the guys, but no one listens to me. Hodge helps me to my feet, keeping his arm curled around me to keep me steady, when Locke’s eyes flash to mine. His fist is raised, ready to punch the asshole again when something must click with him. He drops the guy from his other hand, and he thuds to the ground before he turns to me.

He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looks at me. Then he takes the few steps needed to reach me and cups my cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“This isn’t your fault,” I argue. He brushes his fingers across my cheek before he leans down and rests his forehead against mine.

“We need to get out of here,” Remy tells us, but we need this second. Both of us do.

“It is my fault, and if anything would have happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself, Kiki. Fuck, baby.” Then he presses his lips to mine, and everything else slowly fades away.

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