Page 46 of Biker's Prisoner: Property of Bucky

“Okay.”

“Good,” he says. “And I want something in exchange.”

I season up the fish with thyme. Adobo. A little paprika. Salt. Black pepper. A little fresh thyme that I crush beneath the base of the knife.

“What do you want, Ruger?”

He doesn’t mind long, extended silences. But I won’t act like I used that silence to think things through. I just barely get myself to calm down, because I have a feeling that I won’t like what he wants.

“Few things,” he says. He’s so close to me. So goddamn close. I can smell him – and his armpits. I hate that they smell good to me. That after my first night sleeping next to him, Ruger’s smell is like heaven. My stomach lurches from guilt.This man killed a woman.

“I need you to tattoo something small for me on your body. Then, I need you to tell me the names of the men you need me to kill. Once I have their names, I need your cunt.”

He says it like it’s a normal thing to ask. I drop the knife. Ruger reaches around me with his long ass arms and catches the knife. He edges me out of the way with his hips and begins mincing garlic. His ass has been watching me much closer than I thought – and now, he’s just awaiting a response.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ruger

Iwatch her body react to me before she says anything. Zayna the teacher. That means she’s smart, which means she has it in her to trick me. To use me up like Darlene did. Except… that’s not gonna happen again.

“Do you really think you should say that type of stuff in front of a baby?” she says, glancing at Eden in her chair.

“Eden can’t talk. She doesn’t speak English yet.”

“You could at least make an effort for her first word not to be the c-word.”

I close the distance between us. I’m done chopping up that garlic, and the smell just reminds me of how goddamn good Zayna is in the kitchen. Her food makes me horny and impatient. I edge closer to her, hoping she catches my subtle hints and appreciates my work with the garlic.

Zayna chops her little green vegetables faster and then sprinkles them over the fish. Frankly all the different variations on hunger happening inside me are getting confusing. Zeus barks as the scent of fish reaches his sleep spot. Zeus rushes over to sit at Zayna’s feet, forcing her a little closer to me.Perfect.

“Okay,” I whisper. “So long as you give me what I want. Let me put Eden down and we’ll talk over dinner.”

Zayna looks over at me with disdain and a little curiosity.

“It won’t be long.”

“Okay.”

I kiss her cheek. The first time I’ve done something like that in a while. She looks away from me and back at her fish dust preparation while I take Eden to lie down for a bit. She gets a fresh diaper change and a little time on my bare chest. She likes doing that because of how warm I am, and I like sleeping next to my little baby girl.

Eden curls her little hands up on my chest as I hold her there. She has thin wisps of blond hair. I can’t tell who she looks like – probably the asshole who fucked Darlene. Doesn’t matter. None of that matters anymore. She makes a soft noise and the weird sensation I felt the first time I held her gets stronger.

“I love you,” I whisper. And part of me thinks this baby is the first thing I ever loved. And that the woman in the kitchen might be the second. What I feel for both of them is different – different from the other and different from anything I might have ever felt in the past. Eden doesn’t hear me, because she is fast asleep. She smells like baby oil and a new diaper. I kiss her little head and she doesn’t wake up.

I hope I don’t screw you up.

My mom and dad screwed me up. I know that much. And I know that from the first time I held Eden, I wouldn’t do the same. Zayna wants me to kill – fine. I have no qualms about killing. But I need my assurances that the risk will be worth it. That all I have to do to get my traditional American family is kill three men.

Easier than what I did abroad. Easier than what I did to Darlene. But still. I need to be sure that if I do this for her, Zayna will stay. I set the sleeping baby down and walk out to the kitchen. Zayna has a little timer for that salmon. She made me get her this strange device from Amazon – I had it delivered tothe post office and sent my cousin to pick it up – that cooks rice quickly.

She even cooks food for Zeus, who eats as fresh as we do.

“Eden’s sleeping.”

Zayna casts a tense glance in my direction. “Twenty minutes until dinner.”

“Twenty minutes to talk.”

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