Page 122 of Beautifully Shattered
My face falls. “You want to get off to a picture of my humiliation?”
“This isn’t humiliation.” He turns the screen to me, and even though I don’t want to see myself like that, I can’t look away.
For a beat, I’m speechless.
Yeah, I’m standing with my pants down, my lady garden fully on display, but hell, with the rage on my face and the dark eye makeup that I’ve been wearing like a brand this week, and the way my blonde hair is a little tousled… I think… I look hot.
“Do you see it, Angel? How fucking hot you are?”
I nod, even though I don’t mean to.
“So, no humiliation, but your throbbing little pussy will have to wait to be worshipped until I’m done punishing you.”
And with that, he turns, unlocks the door, and walks out.
I growl out in protest, hearing his chuckle echoing back at me as he leaves me needy and aching for his touch.
I want to cry.
But fuck him. I can just get myself off. I don’t need him.
The sound of car doors opening makes me stiffen.
“He wouldn’t dare,” I snarl to myself, and when I hear the car doors slam shut, I realise, he absolutely would leave me behind.
I hurry, dragging my panties up and yanking my pants into place, and bolt out of the bathroom, hearing the Landy roar to life as I fumble to zip my fly while running.
24
The vans turn right ahead, and we follow in my Landy, while the rest of my MC, on their hogs, hang back, not wanting the rumble of our motorcycle pack to alert the Satan’s Rebels of our approach.
My gaze meets the fury still burning in Abbey’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and I shoot her a wink, earning me an eye roll for my trouble.
I could’ve left her with my ma and sisters, safely locked away with thirty Marx security guards watching over her. And maybe I should have. But, as much as I don’t like the idea of her being put in harm’s way, I can’t deny her need to be involved.
She blames herself for the lives lost. For Darla and Nessy getting taken. She wants to help. She wants blood. So, I’ll just have to work harder to make sure no one touches what’s mine.
“Riggs to Sarg.”
The crackleof the radio breaks the silence inside the car, and JD picks up the receiver.
“Speak,” JD grunts, making his voice deeper, trying to impersonate me.
I glance sideways at him to see his fucking beaming smile, and I shake my head.
“I don’t sound like that.”
My Angel snorts in the back seat, and when our eyes lock in the mirror, she’s smirking.
“We have confirmation from Moore. The gate is unlocked. The guards are out cold. We’re a go.”
“Roger that. Let’s move,” JD grunts deeply again, and this time, I can’t help but chuckle.
“It’s uncanny how much you sound like him,” Jols snickers.
“Nah. It’s not whiny enough,” my wife fires back, shooting me a wink this time in the mirror.
“Yeah, I agree. I’ll try to make it a little more nasally next time,” JD says in all seriousness.
