Desolate Souls (Forgotten Souls MC, #1) (26 page)

“A night on the town, huh?” she smirks, taking a step back from me. “I think I’d like that.” She walks past me, her scent overpowering me as she heads towards the house, only pausing to look over her shoulder to ensure I am following. “Let me clean up and we can head out,” she says before pushing through the back door. “Make yourself comfortable. I won’t be too long,” she calls out before entering the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Stepping inside the house is always a shock to me. Each time I am here, something has changed. Alana has gone out of her way at fixing the place up, from repainting the walls to adding personal touches throughout the house to give it a homier feel. Deuce loves having her here, and who could blame him. The place hasn’t looked this good in the entire time I have known him. Plus he enjoys Alana’s company.

On the few nights a week he spends at home, he and Alana have become extremely close and both have opened up to one another about their pasts. Not so long ago, I would have been jealous of the time they share together, but now I embrace it. The bond they have formed gives me a sense of peace. Alana is filling a void that has existed in his heart since he lost his sister, and Deuce has become the brother Alana always wanted. It is a win-win situation and in no way takes away from what Alana and I have.

She still has not uttered the three words I desperately want to hear, but sometimes words aren’t necessary. There is no doubt in my mind that Alana loves me and that we will spend the rest of our lives together, but first she has to overcome her fear.

Watching as her father killed her mother has had a lasting effect on her. Instead of seeing the scenario for the abusive situation it was, she chooses to block it out. Her focus is only on the end result – two people she loved, gone forever.

Deuce was the one to discover the number of calls placed to the police and I have read each of the reports that resulted. Alana’s father was a drunk that beat his wife, plain and simple. Her mother was probably too afraid to leave him, so she endured the beatings. Maybe she did it out of fear of losing Alana. No one will ever know.

The police report from that night was an eye opener. Alana’s recollection of events was accurate, but there were several details she must have blocked out. The investigator that arrived on the scene was meticulous in his descriptions, down to Alana laying on top of her mother, covered in blood, crying out for her to wake up. Reading it was difficult, but what was even more devastating was seeing her father’s intentions.

Investigator Thomas was able to deduce that Mr. Jacobs fired the first shot, killing his wife instantly. He then turned the gun on Alana, although she has blocked that memory out, and fired one shot. Thankfully he missed, unbeknownst to him, before turning the gun on himself, ending his own miserable existence. Investigator Thomas surmised that at the moment he fired that one round, Alana had thrown herself on her mother, and believing he had ended the lives of his wife and daughter, then turned the gun on himself. It is only speculation, but it fits.

Since I have known Alana, she has equated love with loss. First, she lost both of her parents. Her belief was reinforced when Mary, the foster mother we had for some time, passed away. Alana had loved her, as we all did, and it completely devastated her.

I have to get through to her, but I don’t know how. Deuce says to give her time, and I have been doing just that, but my patience is running out.

“You could’ve turned on the TV,” Alana says as she enters the room.

I turn, looking over at her and feel my cock begin to harden. Alana’s hair is down, falling in loose chocolate waves past her shoulders. The red halter dress she is wearing hugs every curve of her perfect body. Beautiful does not even begin to describe the vision standing before me. She is absolutely perfect. “Wow,” I manage to say, my mouth agape.

“I figured I needed to look the part if we’re going clubbing,” she giggles, walking towards me. “Does it look alright?”

Swallowing hard, I nod my head slowly, unable to say the words that echo in my mind.

“You still want to go, right?” she asks, the smile on her face vanishing.

“Of course,” I manage to choke out. “It’s just...” I stop myself from saying the first thought that comes to mind. She has made me rock hard in a matter of seconds and I don’t want her to misinterpret my raging hard on. I want her, of that there is no doubt, but with Alana there is more than just a physical attraction. As if she can read my mind, her eyes lower to my crotch, causing me to inwardly cringe.

“We can wait a few minutes until your issue... is rectified,” she says, keeping a straight face.

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “You sure have a way with words,” I mutter.

“Would you have preferred if I told you to go jack off in the bathroom so we can get on with our evening?” she giggles.

“Fuck you,” I chuckle, rising to my feet, ignoring the discomfort as my jeans compress my rock hard cock. “Let’s go have some fun,” I say, reaching my hand out to her. She takes it without hesitation, smiling up at me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold your hard on against you,” she says, jabbing my side before turning and heading for the door.

Jerking her back against me, I turn her in my arms, gazing down into her bright blue eyes. “You think you’re being funny?” I ask, trying hard to have a serious look on my face, but failing miserably.

“I know I am,” she retorts, raising her brow at me. She slowly bites down on her bottom lip in an attempt not to smile, the sight making me even harder.

Taking in a deep breath, I fight the urge to take her right here and now. I know she wants me as much as I want her, but she has to make the first move. With everything that has happened, it has to be this way, but waiting is becoming harder.

“I guess we better get going,” Alana whispers, her eyes reflecting that she is fighting her own desires.

“How does Greek sound?” I ask, grasping her hand tightly in mine as we head for the front door.

“I’m game for pretty much anything,” she says from behind me.

As she climbs on the back of my bike, pressing her body tightly to mine, all I can imagine is having her legs wrapped around my waist as I pound my stiff cock into her drenched pussy. Even through my cut, I can feel the heat between her thighs, making me want her even more.

Pulling out of the driveway and onto the open road, I push aside my own desires and concentrate on my goal. Alana’s happiness is all I have ever wanted and now that she has that, it’s time to focus on us spending the rest of our lives together.

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“H
ow many of those are you planning on having?” Jax asks in amusement as I drain the last of my lemon drop.

“That depends,” I say, licking my lips. “Am I buying or are you?”

Shaking his head, he waves over at a waitress who quickly rushes over. The club may be packed, but with Jax in the room, we might as well be the only ones here. He has been the center of attention since we walked in. Maybe I should be jealous, but there really is no need because his eyes haven’t wandered from me all night.

“What can I get for you, hun?” the over attentive blonde asks, her eyes locked onto Jax.

“Another round for me and my girl,” he says with ease. I love when he calls me his girl, because deep down I wish I did belong to him. Jax treats me with respect and showers me with attention. When his arm is around me, I feel safe and wanted, one of the best feelings in the world. And when we kiss, time stands still. There’s only one thing missing, and I’m hoping if I play my cards right, that will all change tonight.

The blonde glances over at me, turning up her nose in disgust before turning and giving Jax an award winning smile. As soon as she walks off, I burst into a fit of laughter. “You do realize you’re a chick magnet, don’t you?”

“Well you’re a dick magnet, so I guess we’re even,” he chuckles.

Fair enough. While Jax has been getting an overabundance of attention from the fairer sex, I’ve been ogled by nearly every creep in the room. From the looks of things, he is as accustomed to it as I am, but for different reasons. Suddenly I am overwhelmed with thoughts of the past and my chest begins to tighten. “I have to use the restroom,” I say, standing abruptly. Quickly I rush from the table, not giving Jax a chance to question me.

Pushing through the restroom door, I stop when I reach the sink. Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply, trying to calm my nerves.
You can’t keep doing this to yourself.
I have said the same thing to myself over and over, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Whenever I start to forget, everything comes crashing down on me, and I am beginning to think I will never be able to truly move on.

Opening my eyes, I look at my reflection in the mirror, the image staring back me is not the one I have grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. Gone is all happiness. Instead I see the terrified girl crying over her mother’s dead body, the young girl begging for mercy as Phil takes her innocence, and the young woman who used her body in unimaginable ways because the man she had befriended had manipulated her into doing so.

“You’ll never make him happy,” I turn at the sound of an all too familiar voice to find Trix standing in the doorway. “I’ll give you credit, you sure know how to pick ‘em, but Jax will never love you.”

“What do you want, Trix?” I turn my attention back towards the mirror, blocking out all emotion.

“Actually, I saw Jax out in the club and knew you wouldn’t be too far from him,” she says, letting the door close behind her. “I know you don’t like me, Alana. You’ve never hidden that fact.”

“And neither have you,” I say, raising my brow.

“Fair enough, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you fair warning. Jax is bad news.”

I fight the urge to burst out in a fit of laughter. Trix of all people is trying to tell me that Jax is a bad person. “Really?” I say sarcastically.

“He can lay on the charm, make you fall for him, but in the end you’ll end up just like the rest of us. Jax is a great lay, the best I’ve ever had, but he isn’t capable of falling in love. He’ll hurt you, just like he did me and every other woman who’s fallen for his bag of tricks.”

This time I am unable to contain my laughter. “Jax wouldn’t hurt me.” I know this for a fact and he has proven it time and time again.

“He’s too hung up on the past to be bothered with someone like you. In fact, I bet you he’s out there lining up his next booty call. That’s who the real Jax is. He’ll give you a taste and then when you’re hooked, he’ll send you packing. It’s always the same story, just with a different lead lady, and I guess you’re his next victim.”

“Thanks for the warning Trix, but I think I’ll be fine,” I say, pushing past her as I head for the door.

“Keep telling yourself that Alana, but in the end you will be alone. He will break your heart and you will have no one!” she shouts out from behind me.

Biting back the tears that threaten to fall, I push my way through the doorway and into the hall, her words cutting me to the core. She has vocalized my greatest fear without even knowing the effect it would have on me.

As I round the corner, I spot Jax standing at the bar and my heart breaks at the mere sight of him. Shaking my head, I turn and head for the front door without looking back.

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