Page 59 of Scarred Sacrifice
“Kiss me,” I pant. He lowers his lips to mine, increasing his speed as he slams into me. I let go, and as my walls clamp around him so tight, he groans as he kisses me through it. I whimper against his mouth as he swallows my moans of pleasure. With our bodies connected pressed together as we both climax, we are saying what neither of us is willing to actually say.
We showered together,we ate, we talked, laughed, and now we are both laying in my bed watching Naked Gun together. I look down at Nyx’s head on my lap, feeling his breaths eveningout and as he softly snores, letting me know he’s asleep. I look at the clock. Three hours.
I shift carefully, letting his head flop down on the bed. I wince. “Sorry,” I whisper. “You left me no choice.” I place a soft kiss on his temple before quickly getting dressed. I grab my pad and pen and write him a quick note.
Nyx,
I know when you read this you’re going to be confused and pissed, but I had to do this. You were going to sacrifice yourself for your friends while trying to protect me and my club. I couldn’t let you do that, because I’ve fallen for you. There. I said it.
I couldn’t save my mom, but I can save you and do what I promised her. Don’t stop fighting, and don’t stop protecting those who need it.Show no weakness. Fight the wars no one else wants to fight. That’s what I’m doing. I won’t stop protecting women, my club, my family, and now you. Henry started this war on women, and I plan on ending that today. I won’t let him take you or anyone else I love away from me.
Forgive me.
Sparky x
P.S. I only gave you a small amount of roofie. You should be awake in around an hour.
I tear the page out of my notebook and place the folded bit of paper on my pillowcase before placing one last kiss on Nyx’s lips. I walk out of my room and make my way down to the storage room, quickly and quietly as not to disturb anyone. I grab two handguns, some ammo, and a couple of grenades, and load them onto my body vest. I bend and check the inside of my boot, sliding out my blade. It’s the same blade I killed my mom’s boyfriend with. I check it before sliding it back in its place and walk out, my heels clicking against the hard floor. I stop at thebar and reach over, grabbing Eden’s bike keys I put there and throw them the opposite side of the room, watching them land somewhere behind the couch. Before I walk out towards the shed, I pause, noticing the van. I pull my blade out and stab the tyre before walking to the shed. I swing my leg over my bike and start her up.
“You better be watching over me, Mom,” I mutter as I pull on the throttle and speed out of there. I speed through the now quiet streets to the Hive, and once there, I park up and quickly enter.
The girl we hire on reception stands. “Er, it’s too late for visitors,” she stutters.
“I know, I make the rules,” I snap as I approach. “It’s important. What room is Isabella in?” I ask.
The woman frowns, confused. “We don’t have anyone of that name.” She shakes her head.
I sigh. “Show me the list,” I demand, holding out my hand.
She places the list in my hand and my eyes scroll the names on the list until I spot the name. The name Eden always uses as her pseudonym in bars: Anita Lay. I roll my eyes. She’s such a dork. I walk up the steps to Isabella’s room, and knock on the door quietly, so not to disturb anyone else. The last thing I want to do is cause any trauma to the women here.
The door opens and Isabella’s eyes go wide. “Morrigan, what are you doing here?” she asks. I push through the door, mindful that I don’t have much time.
“It’s urgent, as in life and death situation,” I state.
She notices my vest. “As in you’ll be the one causing death?” she asks.
“Hopefully.” I shrug. “I need to know, where would your dad go if he was hiding? If the CIA was on to him and he had prisoners,” I press.
Her eyes go wide. “I, erm.” She paces, her hand on her head. “The boat,” she breathes.
“Boat?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, he has a boat down at docks. His friend owns the docks. He leaves his boat there so it’s free and undetected,” she says with hope in her voice.
“Lance Walker,” I mutter.
“Yes, that him.” She nods.
“Thanks,” I say as I go to leave.
“Wait. I take it the weekend didn’t go as planned?” she asks.
“No, it didn’t,” I mutter as I leave, running out the building back to my bike. I speed off and head to the docks, thankful that I can reach it in time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NYX
