Page 46 of Demon

“Bet you haven’t touched it since Ivy’s been here.”

I know he’s right. I have been different while Ivy and Sammy have been here, but I’m not going to tell him that.

“Jett!” Sammy is running toward me. I crouch down, and she launches herself at me and hugs me. There’s this strange sensation in my chest. I peer up at Axle, who’s flashing me a shit-eating smile.

I get some paper and pencils for Sammy, and she starts drawing pictures at the dining room table. Twitch walks in and hands her laminated paper. I look at the pages. He’s printed the alphabet, numbers one to twenty, and her name. “Here, Sammy,” he says, then gives her a marker. “You can use this to trace them. To, you know, get ready for school.”

Her face brightens as she stares at the paper and then looks back at him. “Thank you, Uncle Twitch.”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “That’s okay,” he replies softly and walks out.

It makes me realize that I’m not the only one who’s enjoying Ivy and Sammy’s company. “I’ll just be in my room if you need me,” I say to Sammy, then go upstairs. When I get to my bed, I fall on my back and bounce slightly from the movement. I think back to Axle’s comment about my knife, and he’s right... I haven’t been touching it at the clubhouse. At times, I’ve forgotten about it. I feel the need to hold it only when Ivy’s in danger.

I have a fascination with knives. Like I’ve always felt more comfortable holding the handle of a knife than a gun, and it’s obvious why, but stabbing people who deserve it is still socially unacceptable. Joining the MC has given me a purpose—getting justice. I’ve been desensitized to violence for a long time. Torturing or killing someone who hurt the people in the club or the club’s ol’ ladies brings my monster peace.

It isn’t long until I’m back in the hospital parking lot and I’m walking toward the hospital entrance. I scan the parking lot first, searching for the Lincoln and then checking the perimeter. A few people glance at me with wide eyes and a woman veers off to walk around me, but nothing’s out of the ordinary.

Once inside, I search for Ivy in the cafeteria. I don’t go to her floor because I don’t intend to interfere with her job. She loves it and works hard, so who am I to interfere with that? Just my presence seems to upset people. I look around. She’s not down yet, so I grab a seat at a nearby table facing the elevator so that I can see when she’s coming.

Fifteen minutes later she walks out. She glances around the cafeteria until her eyes find mine and she flashes me a wide smile. It’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her being happy just to see me, and it makes my throat constrict as if a noose is around my neck. I enjoy her animated facial expressions—they’re fascinating to me, considering I have to fake mine.

She takes a seat. “How’s your morning been?”

I think about the club meeting. It’s been a shit morning, but I keep my cool, my expression unreadable. “All right. How was work?”

She shifts in her chair.Does she know what’s going on?

“What’s up?” My voice is colder than I had intended.

She flinches but forces a smile, and I don’t like it one bit. She reaches over and slides her dainty hand over my tattooed one. I study her. Her eyes are darker underneath. “Didn’t you get much sleep last night?”

She snorts. “Are you saying I look like shit?”

I’m honest. “I don’t think you could ever look like that.”

Her cheeks flush. “Yes, I’m tired. This shift is going to be a big one, but at least I get to sleep in tomorrow. Well... that’s if Sammy lets me.” She has a few days off before she starts her full-time shifts again.

She leans forward, hope spread across her face. “So, we’re still going on a date tomorrow?”

My chest swells. Date? The foreign word rattles in my skull.

She must see the expression on my face because she says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put a label on it. I meant just to spend time together, me and you.”

I nod, out of my depth, still confused about why such a pure soul would want to associate with me—a monster—alone. I can’t deny the pull between us, even though it’s to her demise, but she’s persistent and has made it clear she sees something in me that makes her want to spend time with me.

Maybe she wants to save me... fix me... If that’s the truth, she’s wasting her time because I’ve sinned too much to be saved. But after spending time with her and Sammy, I’m starting to realize that I want them in my life. Ivy’s my morphine—she makes my pain go away and my life tolerable. I don’t want to give that up, so I’m going to try to do what she asks of me.

That night, after I pick her up from work, she falls asleep in my truck. I watch her. She looks so peaceful, but my cock is hard and all I want to do is screw her again. When we arrive at the clubhouse, I exit the truck, go around, open the door, and gently pull her into my arms. Her sweet scent makes me groan internally. She stirs but doesn’t wake, so I carry her small body through the house. We draw a few odd stares from the men, but I ignore them and go up the stairs.

I stand between our doors, knowing I should be taking her to her and Sammy’s bedroom, but I just can’t do it because the thought of her in danger makes me manic and I need her... I need her to tame my monster. I need to feel her body against mine to make me more at ease. She has my dick so hard and my psyche so fucked-up that I should be in an asylum, wearing a straitjacket. Possessive thoughts have been invading my brain all day.

I take her into my dark room and close the door with my foot. Even though the only light is the moonlight filtering through the window, I can see her sleepy eyes open at the sound. I lay her down on my bed. She blinks a few times, then looks around. I grab a fistful of my shirt, rip it off, and send it to the floor. I yank my jeans off. She bites her bottom lip as she eyes me up and down. When her eyes land on my dick, I stroke it, then move to her.

“But I haven’t had a shower yet.” Her voice is soft with embarrassment.

“Like I give a fuck.” I’m salivating at the thought of taking her again, so I lean over her and crash my lips to hers to prove I want her. The soft little moan from the back of her throat shoots straight to my cock. I get back up and she lifts her hips, so I pull her pants and underwear down. She pulls off her top and bra, exposing those perfect tits.

I get back on top of her. My fingers are aching to touch her, so I run a hand around her side, then her stomach, amazed by the softness of her flesh. She stiffens. I pause. “What’s wrong?”

---