Page 7 of Taming the Demon

Darrow’s jaw tightened and he nodded. No use in fighting with Slade or with Cyrus. At the end of the day, Darrow knew he was maybe just as guilty as Fitz at this point.

He thought about Mara right now. In his bed, but not like that. Mara had almost goddamn fallen asleep in the bathtub last night. With the amount of wine and Xanax in her system, she would have easily drowned…

Darrow knocked at the door a few times, calling her name. When she didn’t respond, he had no choice but to open the bathroom door to check on her. When he did, he found Mara sliding down into the water. There were still some bubbles, ironically somehow placed directly over her tits.

Darrow saw skin, plenty of skin. It was very obvious that Mara had a nice chest. T-shirts and hoodies and other tops proved that several times. But now standing there, seeing her body in the bathwater…

More than once Mara had offered herself as some form of payment for her safekeeping at the moment. That only came when she was even more messed up than she was now.

Darrow grabbed a towel and opened it wide. He called out Mara’s name, loudly, making her wake up. She looked at him with her hazy wine and Xanax laced eyes. Her eyes filled with tears. Her teeth chattered. She grabbed for the edge of the bathtub. She also bit her bottom lip.

“You’re going to fucking kill yourself like this,” Darrow said.

That was the only time he spoke out about Mara’s current rituals.

“Get yourself dried off and get into my bed and sleep,” he said.

Darrow kept thinking about that moment last night. Fucking around with a member’s old lady…? An inked up woman? Bad enough he was housing the wife of the rat who put Priest into a fucking coma…

“Hey, are you here?” Slade asked Darrow.

Darrow rubbed his jaw and nodded. He pointed at Maggie. He needed a shot of whiskey.

Never once before had he thought about ruining his life for a piece of ass. But now with Mara in his bed… Put it this way—Darrow wasn’t going to sleep on his own fucking bed for the rest of his life.

Put a man and woman together, both of them with a secret, and it only seemed natural and instinctual for them to eventually become drawn to one another. Add to that the fact that they both secretly had wanted one another foryears… It was like dumping gasoline onto a fire.

Darrow downed his shot of whiskey and exited the clubhouse. Outlaws weren’t the good guys, and they never would be. They lived by a different set of rules, laws, and a different kind of justice. Darrow looked at it this way…

If he was going to get his head cut off by the club he loved, at least it would be after fucking someone as beautiful as Mara.

The stripper groaned as she drove her thong-laced ass down against Darrow’s bulge. He slapped her ass. She groaned. Then he pushed her away. She stumbled forward and spun around, running a hand through her half blonde, half neon green hair. Her large, fake tits barely even moved.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m working,” Darrow said.

His cock ached inside his jeans. The stripper, pissed off, stormed out of the private room. Darrow stood up and looked to his left at Slade.

“Since when do you turn down free pussy?”

“Time and place,” Darrow said. “What the fuck are we doing?”

“Waiting,” Slade said. “Give it a second or two.”

Exactly three seconds later, Chief Dick Rundle came stumbling into the private room. The crooked cop was still trying to zip his pants and fasten his belt. Cyrus entered the room behind Chief Dick.

“Oh, Christ,” Chief Dick said.

“Look at your hair,” Darrow said. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Motorboating a set of tits so big they could be a cruise ship,” Chief Dick said.

“Is that supposed to make sense?” Slade asked.

Chief Dick hurried to run his hands through his hair to fix it.

“You know, if Priest were here, he would have dragged you in here by your dick,” Cyrus said.

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