Page 119 of Dizzy

“I mean if you don’t trust me or believe me or whatever, what’s the fuckin’ point?”

“You don’t believeme! I didn’t know about Chaos. I swear. I didn’t know that guy was callin’ me. I met him one time. At a bar. Jed was there. That was before I even came to the clubhouse or met any of you guys.”

“Jed was there?” He doesn’t seem that surprised.

“Yeah. They talked. I thought you knew. He’s in your club.” A chasm opens in my chest. If he’s gonna dump me, send me on my way, I wish he would. I’m tired. I can’t stop the tears, and my nose is stuffing up.

“Baby, stop crying.”

“If you don’t like it, you can fuck off.”

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me.”

“Don’t talk to me like you own me.” Now we’re both shouting, and I start pacing. “Don’t act like I’m the one to blame. I had nothing to do with any of this. You all made this my business.”

“I do own you.” He crosses the room. I lunge for the bathroom, but I don’t have a chance. He throws me on the bed, face down, and pins me.

I buck and flail, but I’ve got so little energy left. And I don’t want to fight with him.

He easily pins my arms with one hand above my head. My jacket bunches up, exposing my bare sides to the air. His weight presses me into the mattress, his leg between my thighs.

We’re both panting.

His hair brushes my cheeks. He smells like woodsmoke and leather. I stop struggling and relax.

“That’s right, baby. Calm down.” His voice is a rumble in my ear.

I can feel his hard cock nestled against my ass. I work my hips, my pussy growing slick with cream. I love this. He’s covering me completely. Except grindin’ against him, I can’t move.

I’m helpless. He can do whatever he wants. I moan.

“Not yet,” he pants. He rises on his knees, flips me onto my back, but he keeps my wrists pinned to the mattress. “We’re gonna sort this out.”

He’s not mad anymore. And that bleak, disappointed look is gone, too. I wriggle, but I can’t get any contact. I whimper.

“I’ll give you what you want, baby. But first you’re gonna give me what I want.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’re gonna be my old lady, you gotta trust me. It don’t work otherwise. You got to know I love you. I’ll fuckin’ die for you, woman. Kill for you. But if you ain’t in this—” His hands tighten on my wrists and his lips turn down. “If you don’t want this, I understand. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Set you up. I’ll—Why you cryin’ now?”

He lets go of my wrists to run his hands down my arms, as if he’s checking to see if I’m hurt.

“You love me?”

“Yeah.” His forehead’s creased in confusion. He has no idea why I’m sobbing.

“You want me to be your old lady?”

“I been sayin’ that.”

“You said I was your woman.”

“You are. Woman. Old lady. Wife. Same difference.”

“There’s a difference.”

“Why are you crying?” He smooths my hair back.

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