After our shower, Dornan takes me back to the clubhouse on the back of his bike.
Riding with Dornan just feels wrong. I don’t feel free in the wind; I feel trapped, like a butterfly encased in glass. Fluttering my wings feebly, only to keep hitting them on my invisible fortress.
Only this fortress of mine is of my own making.
I shouldn’t complain. But I’m impatient. It’s been almost a month and so far I’ve killed Chad, kissed Jase twice and screwed Dornan enough times to make my head whirl. I wonder what my father would think of me right now, and then I squash that thought, because he’d be horrified. He’d be beside himself.
His little girl killing, and fucking, and lying.
It still kills me when I think that he died trying to save me from this life.
A week passes with no nasty surprises and no stabbings. Just a lot of sitting in Dornan’s room, waiting for him to be there, and a lot of laying on my back, being fucked. Every day of my life is starting to feel exactly the same, a veritable groundhog day for vengeful whores.
I learn to bite my tongue and not answer back, as impossible as it is for me. Jase is barely around, and when he is, he won’t look me in the eye.
That makes me very, very sad.
I am laying on Dornan’s bed one afternoon, headphones in, bopping my head, listening to the Revenge playlist that Elliot made for me. I’m at “These Boots are made for walkin’” when Dornan bursts in to the room, yelling into his phone.
“It was fucking them!” I hear him growl into the phone, his low voice reverberating in the confined space. “I saw their warehouse. Barrels of pure meth stacked to the ceiling, and they’re the ones importing this shit through the shipping yards.”
I turn down the music, intrigued, but continue to bop my head like I can’t hear anything he’s saying.
“They’re our enemies. Of course they want to fuck me over.”
The person on the other end of the phone says something and Dornan seems placated for the moment.
“Tomorrow we ride,” he says. “Assholes think they can fuck with my kid? My club? I’ll burn that motherfucking warehouse to the ground with them in it.”
He throws the phone down, his entire body tensed. I remove my headphones and slide them under my pillow, along with my pink iPhone. He’s seen it, knows I have it, but I don’t flash it around in case he tries to take it from me.
He sits on the end of the bed and pulls his black boots off, dropping them by his feet. I slide over, placing my hand on the back of his leather cut, testing his reaction.
When he doesn’t push me away, I crawl onto his lap and straddle him, running my fingers through his short black hair. My leg is much better and though it still hurts when I move like this, it’s bearable.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, turning my head to the side a little. I stare straight into his dark brown eyes, almost the same color as his pupils, and I’m struck by how different they look to Jase’s. The colors are all the same, but the look in their eyes is poles apart. One says gentle, and the others scream predator.
I put my hand between us, rubbing the spot where Dornan would normally be hard at the mere sight of me. But today he’s not, he’s too distracted and he is the one with revenge on his mind. He pulls my hand away and lets it fall between us, smiling.
“You’re a doll, trying to make me feel better.”
I shrug. “You can talk to me, you know,” I say. “I can listen as well as fuck.”
He laughs, and for once the sound is light, without intent. It’s…normal. I am shaken as I try to assign that seemingly innocent laugh with the monster lurking inside.
Don’t ever let your guard down, I think to myself. Last time he was sweet the fucker stabbed you.
“I’m sorry about your leg,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “It was a bad day. Burying Chad…you’re not supposed to bury your own kids, you know? They’re supposed to bury you.”
Wait… he’s apologizing? To me?
I nod, suppressing a smile. “I know.” I’ll bury you, no problem.
“What did Mariana do that was so bad?” I ask him.
He sighs. “Bitch tried to take my son and leave. Fucked my best friend. Stole enough fuckin’ money from this club to ruin us.”
So she was having an affair with my father.
“I’ll never do to you what she did, Dornan.”
I’ll do worse.
He runs his hand through my hair, his mind elsewhere, and I smirk as I realize what he’s yet to confirm.
I’ve got him.
The son of a bitch is starting to love me.
“Pack a bag, baby girl,” Dornan says abruptly. “A couple days we’ll be gone. You’re riding with me, and when we get there you’ll be riding me with that sweet pussy of yours.”
I fight the innate urge to roll my eyes and smile instead. “We’re going on a trip?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t offer anything more, and I don’t dare ask where, even though I’m dying to know. I hate surprises.
“Should I pack for cold, or hot?” I ask, hoping the question is neutral enough. “I want to look nice for you.”
“Hot,” he says. “We’re going inland.”
Right. It’s a big fucking country. We’re going east somewhere, I guess. That’s a lot of states.
“Baby girl.”
“Yeah?”
Put something pretty on. One of those dresses of yours that shows your titties off. Tomorrow we ride, but tonight, we party. Maxi’s birthday’s tomorrow.”
“What did you get him?” I ask.
A slow smile spreads across his evil face and I see that glint in his eye that always means trouble.
“I got him two virgins,” he says. “Never been fucked before.”
“Wow” I say, smiling even as my heart drops and I die a little more inside. “You’re a generous daddy.”
He fists my hair roughly, his lips touching my cheek. “I need something from you, too, baby girl.”
My stomach roils.
“Anything for you,” I say sweetly.
“These girls, they’ve got zero experience. And Maxi…he’s impatient. I was thinking you could be there to…guide them, I suppose.”
My eyes light up. “Of course. What a great idea.”
It’s a fucking brilliant idea. My smile is so big that I’m worried my face might break.
“You’re such a good daddy,” I say, staring up into his face. “I’ll give him the best birthday he’s ever had.”
I think of the package Elliot got for me, wrapped in cellophane and tied with twine.
I think of how I’m going to take Maxi so high, he’s going to come crashing back down to earth in a cataclysm of blood and pain.
“It’ll be beautiful,” I whisper against his chest.