Page 16 of Tick Tock, Boom!

But with him? There were no terms. Just heat and hunger and a voice that wrecked my reason with every word.

His voice. His hands. The way his eyes ate me alive like I wasn’t human, like I was made to be chased down and ruined by him alone.

I groaned. I hated him.

But I hated myself more.

Because deep down, I wanted to run so he'd catch me.

* * *

The fourth night,I didn’t complete my shift at Velvet Chains. The frustration had settled in first, and with it came the sadness.

I told Mercy I had a cold and had to leave. She didn’t push. Maybe she saw it in my eyes, that haunted look, the same one she’d seen on so many other women when they’d been used up and left behind.

Still, she lingered near my locker, arms crossed, platinum hair cascading over one shoulder, that sharp glint in her eyes softening just for me.

“You’re not sick,” she said, voice low and warm. “You’re heart-sick. Big difference.”

I gave a tired half-smile, leaning against the cold metal. “Guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”

“You’re not,” she said simply. “I told you not to fuck around with these men, Nat,” she said, her tone suddenly sharp, eyes locked on mine. “They’ll only tear your heart out and leave you bleeding with a smile on their face.”

She sighed and gave me a gentler look, brushing a piece of hair from my cheek. “But don’t take too long, okay? This place misses you more than you think. I miss you more than I’m willing to admit.”

I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure you just miss someone to bitch about corsets with.”

She smirked. “That too. But also… this is your space. Your power. Don’t let some guy mess that up.”

My stomach twisted. She caught it.

Mercy stepped in close. “Is it because of the biker?”

I didn’t answer, not directly. Just let my gaze fall to the floor.

“Damn,” she whispered. “Itishim.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand. “You’ll figure it out. Just don’t let him break you before you do.”

An hour later I was dragging my tired body up the three flights of stairs and into the tiny apartment that still smelled like old leather and motor oil.

I was bruised emotionally and physically while everything inside me felt torn.

And that’s when the door swung open hard, slamming into the wall. My heart jumped as my father stormed in, wild-eyed, running his fingers through his hair in desperation.

“Where the hell have you been?” he barked, tearing through kitchen drawers.

I stayed frozen in the kitchen, watching him. "I just got home. What are you doing?"

"Looking for something," he snapped. "I stopped by the bookstore today. They said you don’t work there anymore. Care to explain that?"

My stomach sank and I said the first thing that came to my mind. "I got fired."

He turned to me, expression twisting. "Fired? When were you going to tell me?"

I crossed my arms. "I didn’t think it mattered."

"Everything you do matters, Natalia," he growled. "You want to act grown, fine. But I’m still your father, whether you like it or not. We do need a cook down at the clubhouse. I’ll bring you down, you can start tomorrow."

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