Page 72 of Tick Tock, Boom!

Because no matter how much my heart screamed for him…no matter how much I wanted to believe he had suffered as much as I had, I couldn’t love the man who took everything I once held dear.

Even if he still held my heart.

Even if a decade had passed.

Even if his son was asleep in our home, waiting for me to return.

TICK TOCK

Iwalked up the familiar porch steps to the blue door that was once chipped. The once crooked screen door, which had been hanging by a thread, due to a night of drunken stupor where I’d leaned her against it and kissed her long and hard, was now upright and repaired, unlike myself. I stood there for a moment, helmet under one arm, my other shoulder still sore as hell from the shot she’d given me.

Fucking woman.

And yet here I was, knocking on her door. I heard movement, a shuffle from behind the door, and then she was there, framed in the doorway like every goddamn fantasy I'd tried to bury. Hair messy, eyes guarded, lips pursed into something that should’ve said fuck off but just made my dick ache.

I let my eyes roam up her bare legs, her toenails were the color of cherries, and her skin was lightly tanned. She wore the shortest shorts and the tightest tank top. She made my mouth water as she woke up every single nerve cell in my body.

"God, you look good enough to eat," I practically groaned. My neediness showing.

Control yourself.

"So, you’re ringing bells now?" she asked, arching a brow and ignoring my greeting.

I gave her the grin she hated to love. "Better than being shot at again. You fucked up my arm."

She shrugged, unimpressed. "I thought you said you deserved it."

"I did. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell."

We stared at each other. Long. Hard. Something raw swelled between us. Ten years of pain and want all pressing against the silence.

"Can I come in?" I asked finally.

She hesitated, hand tight on the door, but then she stepped aside. "Don’t touch anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I muttered as I walked past her.

The house smelled like lemon and cinnamon and something uniquely her. I looked around, tried to picture her living a quiet life here, away from the blood and the chaos. It didn’t fit. She was too fiery, too much fury, too much fucking mine.

"So," I said, leaning against the wall. "You always shoot your guests?"

"Only the ones dumb enough to sneak through my back door," she said.

"I wasn’t sneaking."

"You weren’t invited either."

"You’ve got good aim. Where’d you learn to shoot like that?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Wolf Stone."

I let out a slow breath. "That son of a bitch. Him and I will have words."

She smirked, crossed her arms over her chest and brining her tits up to peak over her top. "Oh yeah? I’d love to see what you have to say to the President of the Hellbound Lovers."

"You defend him real quick. Why’s that?" I growled, jealousy surging hot through my veins.

"Because he saved my life," she said, voice tight. "And Gabriel’s."

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