Page 37 of Renascence
I resist the urge to ride straight to Emily’s, heading home instead for a shower since I’ve been on the road all day. However, I do call her the moment I get in.
“Hi,” she answers, her voice low and sultry.
“Hey, darlin’.”
“How’d it go?”
“We’ll talk about it later. I’m coming to get you in about thirty minutes. That good?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ready.”
“Cool. See you in a bit.”
Before my shower, I head to my room in the back to check on my babies. It’s locked, constructed to keep them in. It would be a shame for them to get out, and then I get killed by my own pets or some shit. Well, not all of them are my pets. Some of them are for occasions like today, when I need to hurt. Or when I need to kill.
I’m no saint. The first man I killed is so far in my rearview mirror, I can’t even see him. I’ve had to end lives for my country and my club. Most of the guys in the MC think of themselves as basically good guys who have to do bad shit occasionally. Me? The Army trained me, but I like the taste of blood. I thrived in the war. Maybe I was working off all the angst and anger from my childhood and teenage years, but I loved it. I have no regrets about the lives I’ve taken for the MC because there’s a reason for those deaths. They died so I could live. So my brothers, myfamilycould live.
I inspect the glass terrariums in the room, making sure everything’s okay. I once told Raven I had twelve snakes and that’s why my road name is Venom. If she saw this room, she’d freak. There are actually twenty, and I was given that name because it’s my preferred method of killing.
Doom, the first snake I ever got, slithers to the front of the terrarium when I approach. I open it, carefully lifting him out. He’s a ball python, and I’ve had him since he was a snakelet.
“Hey, boy. What you been up to?”
He curls around my arm, forked tongue darting out. I slide my fingers over his skin, loving the silky smooth feeling. I’m always at home in this room, and tonight’s no different. How ironic is it that one of the places I feel safest is a room filled with snakes?
Chuckling, I make another sweep of the room.
Snakes get a bad rap. Even in the Bible, they’re depicted as evil—the serpent who got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden. They’re not dangerous, just driven by instinct. They’re what humans would be like if we didn’t let emotions cloud our judgement. Hell, their brains aren’t even developed enough for emotions; they simply don’t have the cerebral capacity. Sometimes I wish humans didn’t either because feelings only get in the way. They live by their own rules. While they tolerate captivity and handling, they can’t be trained. They bend to no will but their own. Just like me.
Contrary to popular belief, they’re not cold-blooded. They can regulate their body temperature to suit their environment. Adaptability. Another thing I strive for. If I can’t adapt, I get the fuck out; shed the situation or location like a snake sheds the outer layer of scales when he’s outgrown it.
Just like I did my old life.
Standing in front of the display case in the corner, I admire my gun collection. This room is forallmy snakes, including the Colt Python, Anaconda, Diamondback, and King Cobra. I’d love to carry around that Python with the eight-inch barrel, but my Beretta 92 FS is more discreet.
One final glance around, and then I place Doom back in his terrarium. After locking up, I hop in the shower, more than ready to see Emily. I wash my hair, putting it in a ponytail before getting a few good spritzes of cologne. After all, every woman likes a man who smells good. I pull on jeans and a T-shirt, strapping on my Beretta before covering it with my cut. Hurrying to my bike, I crank it up and make my way to Jeff’s house.
I only have to wait a few seconds after knocking before Emily comes to the door. This time, she’s dressed for the back of my bike—jeans, boots, a plain white tee, and a leather jacket. She bites into her bottom lip, blushing as her head falls forward. Her hair is in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, she’s not wearing a stitch of makeup, and yet she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever set eyes on.
Fuck.
Without a word, I take her hand and tug her close. The aroma of fresh peaches tickles my nostrils. When her face tips up toward mine, I waste no time in claiming her lips. Emily moans, immediately opening for me. Her arms curl around my neck, body leaning in to mine. I slide my hands around her waist and under her clothes, pressing my palms to the bare skin of her back. She shivers, a soft whimper coming from her.
Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside her.
Hear her scream my name.
Tonight. That’s definitely fucking happening tonight.
“Hi.” She smiles up at me when I finally come up for air.
“Babe.” It’s all I can say, lightheaded from all the blood rushing to my dick. My voice is little more than a grumble, low and gruff.
Her green eyes widen, twinkling up at me like she’s discovering a new wonder. After being with a dickhead like her ex, a man who shows her how much he wants her is probably alien to her. I allow her to lock up, then take her hand, leading her to my bike.
“Did you eat already?”
“Yeah.”
