Page 54 of Caught Up

And while I wanted to break free more than anything, as of right now, I wasn’t ready, didn’t have something to fall back on, had no plan in place for how to deal with the fallout of severing ties with my old man. Which meant I had to say yes.

By heading our oil operation for Lorenzo, I’d be taking on more responsibility than ever, more risk. My head would be on the chopping block if we got caught, and I’d be the one spending my life behind bars.

Heat crawled up the back of my neck as my temper reared its ugly head. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rage. I wanted to flip this fucking table over and beat my father to within an inch of his life. But I had to keep myself in check, had to keep him from growing even more suspicious of me than he already was.

Dad tipped his head sideways, gaze narrowing, a grin spreading over his face that looked more like a baring of teeth. “I can trust you with this, right, son?”

I had no choice but to agree, so I forced myself to return his smile. “Of course.” The lie tasted like ash in my mouth, like the ruined embers of my dreams. “I won’t let you down.”

18

Junior

Irevved my motorcycle, mergingin and out of lanes as I raced across the city. Lauren had been brave enough to give me a second chance, and I was already fucking it up by running late.

This was why I’d never pursued a serious relationship before; I knew I’d end up disappointing someone. The fact that it was Lo I was disappointing felt unacceptable, made me even more convinced that if I had any chance of gaining some sort of normalcy, I needed to get the fuck out before Dad dug his claws any deeper than they already were.

Up ahead, the light turned yellow. I gunned it, racing through the intersection just as it changed to red.

The wind buffeted me. I kept my head on a swivel to avoid the cars and pedestrians in my path. If Lauren didn’t forgive me for standing her up, there’d be hell to pay, fuck the consequences. I was pissed at Dad before, but now that I’d put a little space between us, that anger had morphed into rage. I felt trapped, cornered, like some wild animal with no chance of escape.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge thoughts of my father, trying to unsee the look of triumph on his face when I told him he could trust me. This anger of mine was a problem, and I didn’t need it infecting my time spent with Lauren. She was too important, too special.

I parked right outside the club this time and headed toward the front door, handing my helmet and jacket over to the coat check while the hostess scanned my member card. As soon as her handheld device flashed green, I snagged a mask off her desk and strode into the lobby.

Lauren sat front and center at the bar, a gorgeous woman on one side of her and a familiar man on the other. My mood plummeted right back into rage. It was the samecollegiate-lookingmotherfucker I’d seen sniffing around her before.

I stalked toward the trio, feeling eyes on me. People at the bar started to turn like they’d felt the vibes in the room shift, Lauren turning with them, the smile on her face faltering when she caught sight of my expression.

“Oh,” she said, “you actually ca—”

I cut her off with a kiss, going into it hard, shoving my way between her legs, hands on her face so I could hold her at the right angle. She tasted like champagne and strawberries, and I was pissed I hadn’t been here to watch her consume them.

The mask dug into my face, but I ignored it, too focused on how stiff Lauren was in my grip, her body radiating tension. I slanted my mouth over hers and stroked my tongue across her lips, begging her to let me back in, telling her with my touch how sorry I was. Her palms hit my chest, and I had just enough time to brace myself against getting shoved away before her fingers curled into my shirt and she pulled me closer instead, her mouth falling open on a jagged inhale, the first stroke of her tongue like heaven against mine.

“Woah, hey,” the guy beside us said.

I broke the kiss just long enough to tell him to get fucked and went back to claiming Lauren like some sort of goddamn caveman. Sure, I’d been late, but that didn’t mean I’d forfeited. It didn’t mean the vultures circling Lo could descend in my absence.

Was it my best moment? No. But it also wasn’t my worst, and from the way Lauren kissed me back, she didn’t seem to mind all that much. I kept going, dropping a hand to pull her leg around my waist, fitting my hips against hers so she could feel howfucked-upI was for her, how hard she made me.

“Where?” I demanded.

“Upstairs,” she said.

I scooped her off the barstool and carried her toward the stairs. She clung to me, our chests pressed together, her arms at my neck, legs around my waist. Her dress was short, so I hooked my forearm beneath her ass, tucking the hem of it in place to keep her from flashing the room.

If people had been surreptitiously watching us before, they openly gawked now. Let them. Everyone inside this building needed to know who they’d have to deal with if they went after Lauren. Dropping all pretenses, I let the menace and aggression I felt creep into my expression, my eyes daggers, my sneer a promise of violence, even as I cradled Lo against me like she was the most precious thing in the world. People tore their gazes away when I met them, and it should have been a warning sign that I needed to check my fucking temper, but all I felt was dark triumph, my blood humming, soul baying like a wolf claiming its kill.

Mine.

I carried Lauren upstairs, so distracted by how she felt in my arms that I was blind to where we were going.

She tugged on my sleeve as we were passing a door. “In here.”

I turned right, and she released me with one arm to press her card against the lock. The second it clicked open, we were in. I was desperate to taste her again, to drop her onto the nearest flat surface and—wait, where the fuck had all these people come from?

My body jerked to a stop as I took in the room around us. The voyeur room, to be exact. Or at least a carbon copy of it with the same bed and pillows and chair.

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