Page 32 of Bound by Desire
I can barely shove down the lump in my throat. Trying to ease a bit, I take her in my arms and kiss her cheek. “I need to get out of here for a bit, but I’llbeback.”
“Promise?” she asks, pulling back and looking intomyeyes.
“Promise. But you gotta let me go rightnow,okay?”
Tears fall from her eyes. “Okay,” she whispers as my father rounds thecorner.
“Deacon Alexander!” heroars.
I pay him no mind. I kiss my mother on top of her head then exit the building, not stopping to talk to anyone. Not bothering to evenblink.
I hop in the truck, peel out as quickly as I can, and drive. That’s all I can do—drive.
Even after an hour on the road, the anger still burns inside of me. Nothing like the stench of death to put things in perspective. Fuck, but I don’t want to be here. However, it’s not looking like I have a damn choice.Motherfucker.
I need to punch something hard and for a long time. The tension inside me needs to come out. I know exactly who togoto.
Steering the truck that way, thoughts run rampant of my mother beingsick.Sick?
An ache grows in my cold chest, feeling like a thousand knives stabbing me at the same time. She’s a good woman. Always has been. She did a great job raising Emery and me. Too bad I had to go fuckshitup.
The notion that she’ll have to do radiation, chemo, or lose parts of her body is the coldest fucking douse of water I’ve ever felt in my life. Yet, I hate it here. Okay, maybe not here, but I do hate the thoughts of being here in this town. Hell, the way I was flat-out accused of hitting Austyn was a punch to the gut. Like I’d ever hit her. It pisses me off they think so little of me. Then, to ask if I’m still using. They have no fucking clue. Not one clue. Staying here will be a problem. I just know it. Not just family shit,either.
The anger builds as I turn into the gym I came to four years ago when I needed to get away from my family and let the rage that burned insideescape.
Parking and hopping out of the truck, I make my way to the door and swing it open. The sounds of grunts and strains echo throughout the space as I move to the front desk where a tiny little girl, who can’t be more than eighteen, sits. Her eyes gleam as I step forward. Considering the anger coming off me, this is surprising. Most would want to get as far away from me aspossible.
“Can I help you?” She rises as she asks the question, her tight as hell bra stretched thin over her tits. So much so her nipples point directly at me. Not to mention the flat abdomen that leads to shorts that I’m pretty positive are underwear. No matter where I go, this is the shit that comes along—women eager enough to fuck me here on the desk if I’dletthem.
“Charliehere?”
“Yeah, he’s training someone. Let me get him.” She gives me a wink as she strides around the desk, making sure to sway her hips a bit more than she needs to. She’s super thin, which is fine, but a big man like me likes to have something to grab on to. She’d do for an after-fight fuck, butnothingelse.
I follow her as she moves, seeing Charlie sparring with a very attractive female. Blonde hair pulled back into a knot on top of her head, and I swear I see some blue in there. Her back is to me, and what a fine ass she has. Round and full, giving my hands somethingtogrip.
Charlie holds up his arms as the woman strikes each of them, going back and forth. They both have sweat glistening their bodies, but damn hers is sexy asallhell.
She turns, still swinging away, and it takes me a moment, but … that’s the woman from the clubhouse. What the hell is a club momma doing here fighting? A woman like her could hold her own to just about anyone. Most of the time, the mommas in the clubhouse are there for protection of some sort. This woman doesn’tneedthat.
The woman from the counter calls into the ring. Charlie holds up both of his hands, and the bombshell stops. There’s conversation I can’t hear going on. Then, when the petite woman points in my direction and Charlie sees me, a wide smile comes acrosshisface.
Bombshell woman’s eyes grow round at seeing me, so she must have been paying attention at theclubhouse.
Charlie holds up one finger and starts to come my way, taking the paddles off his hands as he moves. The old man still looks the same as when I came here regularly. He used to tell me that he let me come free because it was better than me going out and fighting on thestreets.
“Deke?” he asks with a wide smile on his face, holding his hand out to me, whichItake.
“Charlie, good toseeya.”
“Shit, boy. What, fouryears?”
“Lookin’ like that. I need to let off some steam. Can I use one ofyourbags.”
His eyes turn curious. He knows about me, my family, the Ravage MC. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if he knew about my time in Grayson, as well. The man knowshisshit.
“Sure thing. You in townforlong?”
“No clue yet. Justfamilyshit.”
