Page 14 of Property of Necro
Rolling my eyes, I snort again. Laying it on thick isn’t necessary. I am here for a job, whatever the job may be. Sure, I could assume that Dark lied to Rot, and I’m here for intel. But my gut tells me, what it’s been telling me all along—something’s off. With no information on the club, no instructions on what I’m supposed to dig up, and the fact that their president uses sign language and Dark knows I do, too… It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Dark lied. Why? I don’t know. But if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck. That duck has some explaining to do. Had he just asked me to do this, I would have still said yes, maybe, possibly.
Now that I’m sitting in the den of bikers, cuddling up next to one, I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do. When there’s a task to focus on, I’m good to go. Without one, what’s the point?
Sighing, I close my eyes and rest my head against the slab of smooth wood at my back.
Why am I here?
What now?
I’m… lost.
There’s no other word to describe it.
What’s funny is I felt that way my entire life, until I was rescued by the Sacred Sinners and given a place among the sisters.
They’re my steady. My home. The comfort I know I can return to after a long job. After I sow my wild oats with men who never truly know me beyond the physical. It’s a lonely life. But it beats living with my mother, my uncle, or Ted.
Ted was the worst.
He still visits me in my nightmares. I can still smell him—nicotine and mint.
Rot squeezes my thigh. “What’s wrong?”
Everything.
Nothing.
Fuck.
I don’t know.
“We didn’t pierce the other women,” Rot throws out when I don’t reply. “I didn’t even know they were gonna do that.”
“Sure. Sure,” I mumble, not knowing what to believe.
“Coffin’s our club piercer. He’s a… well… It doesn’t matter what he is. You’re still the first woman he’s ever pierced on the altar. I haven’t gotten a chance to ask them why. But I’m gonna find out.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble. What’s doneis done. I now have three fresh piercings to tend to, and as someone who’s never had a single one, not even her ears, it’ll take some adjusting.
“How’s your neck?” Rot turns on the bed and tilts my chin to check my throat.
It hurts. Not horribly, but tomorrow’s a new day, and I’m sure it’ll suck then when the bruises form on my pasty flesh. Rot knocked me the fuck out. Not that I mind. I’m kinda into that stuff and other things, too.
He gently brushes across the tender spots. A growl rumbles in his throat. “I fucked up.”
I wave him off, not wanting him to fuss. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. You’ve already gotta worry about these healing.” Rot caresses my tender nipple.
I suck in a sharp breath and swat his hand away. “Really. It’s fine.”
Shaking his head, the biker frowns, spares me a final glance, and slides off the bed. Opening his dresser, he extracts a black t-shirt and throws it at me. It lands on my thighs. “The guys are gonna be pissed you’re wearin’ that. The women we have don’t wear clothes.”
“Seriously?” Why does it matter if they wear clothes?
“Yeah. We don’t like ‘em. Even if the other brothers can’t touch, they love to look. But since we’re already breakin’ all the rules, put the damn shirt on.”
Fingering the edge of the cotton, I hesitate. “I don’t wanna cause trouble.”
