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He spears me with a glare that has me stumbling back into the wall. "This is over. Tonight."
"What? Why? You said-"
"That guy, your boyfriend-"
"He's not my boyfriend! You know why-"
"Almost killed my brother."
A gasp rushes from my lips. I press against my chest to push back the feeling that my heart is about to leap from my body. "How does Drake know Hatch? Wait, why are you guys even here?"
I shake my head as if somehow mixing up all the information will help it to finally align to make sense.
"It's over, Trix."
I jerk my eyes to his at the non-negotiable tone in his voice. "No, it's not."
He takes a step toward me, his icy-blue stare sending chills across my skin. "It is."
"How can you say that? He just came back."
He moves in more until the heat of his breath is on my lips. "It's over."
I grip his T-shirt, shoving him back and at the same time dragging him to me, needing my s.p.a.ce as much as I need to crawl inside him. "It's not over yet. No!"
Lightning fast, he whirls me in front of him, pinning my hips to the counter top from behind me. He grips my chin, forcing my eyes to the mirror, and growls in my ear. "Look at yourself." His eyes are wild, glistening with rage, and his jaw throbs with tension.
Possessive, violent, and breathtaking.
He flexes his hips, pressing mine deeper into the granite vanity until the pinch of pain brings my eyes to the mirror.
My untamed hair is tossed around my shoulders, purple streaks like roadways across the net shirt that displays my naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I blink as my eyes travel lower. Mason's possessive hand is splayed across my bare stomach.
"Is this what you want, Trix?" He jerks my chin. "Look at yourself now. Is this what you want?"
I shiver in his hold, knowing the right answer is no, but holding onto the last thread of hope that I could help bring my family peace and Lana's killer to justice.
He tilts my face up, catching my eyes, and I fight the urge to recoil at the darkness I see in their depths. "I'm done with this. Not doing this anymore."
"What . . . why?"
His hand roams up, stopping at the tender underside of my breast. "Can only take so much. Thoughts of you with anyone else are f.u.c.king torture." He grazes my neck with his fingertips, brushing my hair back. "I know you're doing your best to respect what we have, but I don't give a f.u.c.k anymore. It's not enough." Hot, wet kisses paint my shoulder and neck until he nips at my ear. "You wanna know why this is over? Why I'm putting an end to this bulls.h.i.t?" His breath beats heavy in my ear and he grips me hard. "Because you're mine." His declaration rumbles against my skin seconds before he turns me and drops to his knees.
My hands brace against the counter behind me as he throws one leg over his shoulder. Rough hands grip the thin material of my boy-shorts, pulling them aside.
"Mase . . ." My words dissolve on a moan as he buries his mouth between my legs.
He nips at me with his teeth, punishing me before slashing me with his tongue in a brutal and delicious a.s.sault. I lean back, leveraging as I dig my heel into his back, encouraging him to have his way. Opening myself to his fury. He growls against my over-sensitized flesh, whether in frustration or approval, I'm not sure. I'd take either.
He slides one big hand up the back of my shorts, grabbing my a.s.s so hard it's sure to leave a mark. "It's over." His teeth graze, lips pull, and tongue lashes against me.
I roll my head on my shoulders, trying to stay upright and at the same time wanting to fall into the strength of his hands. No, no, no . . . it's not over. My voice can't find the words as his mouth has robbed me of breath.
So close, the sensations coil deep in my belly. I rock myself against him, joining in the rhythm as his hand at my a.s.s guides me, rewarding me. Loving me even through his anger. Reminding me what I've given him and what he claimed. Proving that I'm his-that he owns not only my heart, but my body too.
I fist his hair, holding him exactly where I need him. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as my o.r.g.a.s.m shreds through me, full-body and overpowering. My thighs quake, and a low whimper of ecstasy pours from my lips. Panting, I breathe through the aftershocks of my release. His tongue moves still, in lazy but purposeful stokes, coaxing me back to earth.
My heart beats to the chant of my soul: I'm his. I'm his. I'm his.
My ankle wobbles on my high heels, threatening to give out. He pulls back, hoisting me up to the countertop and settling between my legs. His arms wrap around me, and his lips kiss a pattern against my neck.
My eyes burn with tears. The combination of seeing him here, having a front row seat to his disappointment then his punishment, and having more questions than I have answers, only intensifies the pain.
A mournful cry falls from my lips as all the years of my searching seem to dissolve in this moment. I don't want to live with this hurt anymore. Don't want to push away my one chance at a happy life. Sick of selling my soul for hope that Lana's killer will be found, I'm tired of pushing Mason away.
"Beatriks, baby . . ." He smooths my hair off my face. "You gave yourself to me, and now it's my responsibility to keep you safe. Those guys, Hatch, they're dangerous, and I'll give you the choice, but if it's not the right one, I'll make it for you." He runs the pads of his thumbs along my jaw, his blue eyes piercing mine. "Walk away from this with me."
He's right. I've prolonged this long enough, and before, when my heart was empty and I had nothing else, it was easy to convince myself that this is what I needed to do. But my heart is full now and my search seems pointless.
I nod. "I want to. I really want to." I hold him close, burying my nose into his chest and breathing in his earthy sweet scent. "I love you, Mason."
"Love you too." He rubs soothing circles against my back. "Hate seeing you here; hate all this."
"Wait . . ." I pull back enough to see him, blinking through the fog of my tears. "How do you know Hatch?"
His eyes dart to the side of me, and I lean over to catch his gaze. "Tell me."
"Caught him and some of his guys f.u.c.king with Drake. Thought they'd kill 'em. Jumped in. They put Drake's debt on me."
"Drake's debt. What did he owe?"
"Drugs."
My eyes narrow as I put two and two together. "So . . . you had to give them drugs?"
"Basically, yeah."
A gasp slips from my lips before I can catch it. "You're a . . . drug dealer?"
"No, I delivered drugs to some a.s.sholes who tried to kill my brother so that they'd f.u.c.king leave him alone."
"And did they?"
He shrugs. "We're here, aren't we? No clue what Drake's dad has in store for him tonight-"
My eyes widen as realization of their earlier conversation finally dawns. "This guy, the one behind the door, is Drake's dad."
He nods. "s.h.i.t with this Hatch guy runs deeper than just an MC. He's in bed with Elijah, who is the worst combination of criminal: greedy, psychotic, and no f.u.c.king soul."
Nausea rolls through my stomach, and the lemon drops threaten a second appearance. I shiver in his arms. "Drake's in deep?"
"Trying to shovel his a.s.s out, but yeah, he is."
I shake my head, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth.
"Whatever you need from this Hatch guy isn't worth you putting yourself in this kind of danger."
He's right. "You're-"
Bam-bam-bam! "Open up!"
My eyes pop wide, and my pulse pounds between my ears. "Oh s.h.i.t. It's Hatch."
Thirty-three.
Mason Son of a b.i.t.c.h.
What started off as being just plain s.h.i.tty has turned into a cl.u.s.terf.u.c.k of epic proportions.
The man, or men, who killed Lana are now tied somehow to Drake's dad? I help Trix from off the counter, make sure she's put back together, and at her nod, swing open the bathroom door.
"f.u.c.k's going on here?" Hatch scowls between Trix and me.
I step in front of him. He's not a small guy, but I've got a good few inches on him if push came to shove. "Where's Drake?"
Hatch stares me down, and the heat of Trix's body warms my back. "He's with Elijah. They're asking for you."
I reach back and grab Trix's hand then move toward the door Hatch motioned to earlier.
"Where the f.u.c.k do you think you're going?"
I turn around to tell the guy to f.u.c.k himself.
"I'm going with him." There's a resolve in her voice that makes my chest swell with pride. She's not intimidated by this guy, which is insanely brave or nave.
"The f.u.c.k you say?" He laughs, the sound like tumbling rocks. "You've been paid to work." His eyes narrow. "Do your f.u.c.kin' job."
She juts out her chin. "I quit."
In a move faster than I'd think possible for a man his size, he grabs her by the hair and pulls her from me. "You don't get to quit-"
I grip his throat, forcing him to release her so he can fight me off. He swings. Lands a solid punch to my jaw that I can't feel through my rage.
"You're a f.u.c.kin' dead man." I pull him by the throat into a flying knee that doubles him over. "Touch her again and-"
"Enough!" A booming voice radiates through the room.
I shove Hatch, sending him stumbling backwards, but he recovers with a glare that says this isn't over. I'm reluctant to take my eyes off Hatch. He could pull a knife or a gun, and the way Trix is clinging to my body puts her in just as much danger.
Hatch glares at Trix. "Understand now why you haven't been f.u.c.kin' me."
She curls deeper into my body and I tuck her in close.
"Hot, but . . ." J.P.'s voice is mocking. "Little trashy for your taste." He's close, too close to Trix. I bounce my gaze between him and the biker trash. "Mason, seems all you touch turns to wh.o.r.e."
"f.u.c.k you." Hate this piece of s.h.i.t. He was a c.o.c.ksucker in high school, and he's a c.o.c.ksucker now.
He grins, as if p.i.s.sing me off is his greatest joy. "Nice to see you again too, a.s.shole."
I contemplate beating the s.h.i.t out of both J.P. and Hatch, but think better of it. Each man has a crew of guys around them demonstrating where their loyalties lie.
He jerks his head toward the office. "Come on. He's waiting for you."
I move to follow him, but his eyes cut to Trix. "Leave the girl."
"No."
His mouth forms a tight line. "I said, 'leave the girl.'"
"And I said, 'no.'"
He tilts his head, studying Trix as she clings to my arm.
"I got her, Mason." I turn to see Santos, who is flanked by Angel and the redhead. All of them look worried, although Santos doesn't seem nearly as threatening as I've seen him in the past. "I'll get her home."
She'll be safe with him. But not home.
I pull her to my front and wrap her in a hug, putting my lips to her ear. "My house. Go."
She stiffens. "No, I'm not leaving you."
A groan rumbles up from my throat. "Please, I can't do this if I'm worried about you. You need to go."
She swings her gaze to Santos and back to me, her chin high. "I'm not leaving. I'm going to wait for you."
I grab her upper arm and yank her. "With who? Hatch?"
She gasps.
"Go with Santos to my house. Don't f.u.c.k this up." G.o.d, why can't she just f.u.c.king listen?
"Mason, man, we don't have all night," J.P. says with a frustrated growl.