Page 3 of Vengeance

“I’ll clean it up. Relax,” Waylon says. “It’s not our first rodeo.”

“Make sure to save his eyes for me,” Psycho shouts and turns back to the former couple. “You two good?”

“Yeah,” Chicago says.

They leave, and Kimberly narrows her eyes. “Why does Larry want the guy’s eyes?”

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “I stopped asking those questions a long time ago. I’ve just accepted that his club name fits better than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

“Am I really safe anywhere, Dallas?”

The strong front fades, and he wants nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. “I’ll make sure of it, Kimmy.”

Shaking her head, she walks into the bedroom, taking care not to step in any of the blood Waylon dragged through the house. He stands to follow and finds her staring at the large pool of blood on the hardwood. “Will that come up?”

“We’ve got guys who know how to take care of it. If needed, we can sand and re-stain the floors,” he says. “Pack what you need, and I think we should get you to Griffin’s Beach. They have a nice hotel you can stay in.”

Moving around the blood, she unties the robe and tosses it onto the bed with only one side unmade. No one else was here, which he assumed, but he finds the confirmation comforting.

His eyes glance up to the mirror above the dresser, and he sucks in a breath as he sees her dark red nipples through the see-through lace bodice of her blood-stained nightgown. Her eyes catch his through the mirror, and he doesn’t even attempt to hide his longing. It’d be pointless because the mere thought of his ex naked makes him hard.

“You don’t remember this,” she says, and to his surprise, her fingers trace over her nipples through the fabric, making them harden and even more visible.

Swallowing, Chicago shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

“You’re right. You never got to see it. I bought it for our last anniversary before the divorce. The one you forgot,” she says, her hands falling to her sides. “There’s an entire drawer of lingerie here that you never got to see because the club became the most important thing in your life. More important than coming home, and it definitely became more important than me. Rather than waste them, I wear them for myself. The only times I’ve felt sexy in the last five years are when I wear them.”

“I wish I’d made more of an effort before. To see you in them. I wish I had the opportunity to take them off, too.”

Turning, she takes a step towards him, and it takes every ounce of strength he has not to reach out and touch her. To touch the body he dreams of every night. Even the nights he hated her and blamed her for leaving him, he still wanted her. Only her.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know what else you have under there, and I know how good it looks when there’s nothing covering it.”

Her eyes look down at his fly, and she smirks. “Not even a dead man’s blood on the ground can stop you from wanting to fuck, huh?”

“Wanting to be with you was never our problem.”

“I just figured a dead body would dampen the desire a little.”

Stepping even closer to her, he leans in only millimeters away from touching her and whispers, “Nothing can or ever will put out the fire I have for you, Kimmy.”

“Bullshit.”

He steps back and puts distance between them again, careful to avoid stepping in the mess and smearing it further. “You’re the only face I see when I’m with someone else.”

“Is that what you did when we were still married? Told yourself it was okay because you imagined me when you had your dick inside some other woman?”

“If you think I fucked anyone while we were together, you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

“That’s the problem, Dallas. You disappeared and pulled so far away from me that I don’t think you even knew yourself. And you sure as hell made sure I didn’t know you.”

Nodding, Chicago looks at the floor, his eyes focusing on the dark liquid that looks almost black on the dark stain of the hardwood floors he refinished himself years ago. “Even six months ago, I would’ve responded by telling you that you’re the one who left. The one who gave up on us. But I’ve had a lot of revelations recently. Or maybe they’re called epiphanies. I screwed us up, and I’m the only one to blame for everything. But I will promise you, on our kids, that I never once cheated. There was no one until after the judge stamped those papers I didn’t want.”

“Excuse me?”

“Which part? The fact I never wanted the divorce? Because I thought that was common knowledge.”

---