Page 57 of Deserter

Celia.

I’d gotten used to ruling with intimidation and threats. When that didn’t work, I’d resort to violence. Breaking people was easy enough, once you knew their weakness. Unfortunately, she’d become mine.

By the time I realized that she held it all, I was already too far gone and in too deep to care. I hadn’t even minded when she showed her claws and fought back; in fact, I looked forward to it. She was the only person in the world who could raise a hand to me and get away with it.

Now, I would’ve given anything to get inside her fucking mind.

Wolverine had pulled me aside at the gathering and by the time he’d wrapped it up, she was gone again. I’d spent the remainder of the weekend, holed up in the clubhouse with a bottle of tequila and a bag of blow, hoping to self-medicate her out of my system.

The rage had been steadily building until it coursed through my veins. It took everything to sit in this chair and listen to these men drone on about what assets they could be to my club.

The Mexicans had raised the price on ephedrine, forcing us to look elsewhere to stay on top of the demand for crank and still turn a profit. The guys across the table swore they could make the same thing, using cold medicine and diet pills. Given the fact that my cooks had resorted to paint thinner and battery acid, I was open to suggestions.

One began explaining the cost breakdown, and I returned to thoughts of Celia. I deserved an explanation for why she was running away. I’d given her honesty when she asked for it. I didn’t know what else she wanted from me. Just like the stories she loved so much; love was a myth.

A tragedy just waiting to happen.

I wasn’t even sure I was capable of the emotion.

So, I’d offered her sex, thinking it’d be enough. Any other woman would’ve jumped at the opportunity, but the fact that she hadn’t only made me want her more.

“Grey?” Comedian looked to me with a shrug.

“I’ll accept your terms on a trial basis. You produce something that’s better than the cartel’s, you stay. If not, you’re out. We’re done here.” I rested my chin on my fist and stared straight through them as they scrambled toward the door like cockroaches when a light was flipped on.

“Nice job, Pres.” Comedian slapped me on the back. “You doin’ alright?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the wall in front of me. The room cleared out, and I slipped back into memories of Celia on her knees in front of me. I’d have her there again.

Since she’d graduated, it had been hard to nail down a schedule for her. I hadn’t fucked her in a month, and it was starting to get to me. I’d had plans to remedy that at the gathering, but she was long gone before I ever got a chance.

“Grey.” Wolverine waved a hand in front of my face and sat down. “Need to talk.”

“You talk too fuckin’ much, old man,” I snapped, expecting him to flip me the bird or at least invite me to go fuck myself. Instead, he shook his head and looked down at the table.

I leaned forward, instantly on alert. “What happened?”

“It’s about Celia.”

At the sound of her name, I was out of my chair and over to him. “Start talking,” I demanded.

“When she got sick at the gathering, Lucy had her take a pregnancy test—she’s knocked up, Grey.”

I nodded along until his words sank in.

Pregnant.

It was why she’d taken off during the gathering. I’d known the risk of fucking her bare but hadn’t let it stop me.

“Is she okay?”

Wolverine pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a controlled breath. “She’s a seventeen-year-old girl who just graduated high school and found out that she’s pregnant by a man who kidnapped her. I’d say she’s doing fuckin’ fantastic.”

“A fuckin’ no would’ve worked, old man,” I bit out. “I’ll give her a few days to let it set in and go over there.”

I had no fucking idea what I was going to say, but I’d figure it out. The weight lifted off my chest and I fought a smile. She couldn’t run from this.

Celia Cross was mine forever now.

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