ZEKE (12 page)

“Stay still,” he grunts, perspiration dripping from his forehead. I feel a bead of his violence drip onto my face.

His fingers, like sharp claws, dig deeper into my flesh.

“Fuck you,” I scream, knowing those are the worst two words in the world you can say to anyone. Slate got his mouth washed out with soap for saying them to Jax. I think Dad would be okay with me saying them to this monster, though. I wish Dad were here right now.

But he’s not. I’m all alone here. It’s just me.

Lightning, I need to be like lightning.

“It’s going to hurt more if you fight me,” the monster says as he reaches for my boxers.

“What are you doin’?” I try to push his hand away, struggling to break free.

He’s strong, though. His fingers spear deeper into my shoulder. His big, hard body lands on me, and I feel something, something I don’t want to feel. I lift my hand, and with everything that I have, I strike him under the chin with the pad of my small hand. His body arches, and I lift my knee, making direct contact in the very place that I didn’t want to feel against me. I knee him again and again in the balls. His body retreats with a loud groan.

His guard down, I grab his bent head and lay my body into my hands. I smash his face into the hard linoleum floor. I struggle to my feet. He rolls over onto his back. Ready to bolt, I lift my foot, but before I take my first step, he grabs my ankle ...

I jolt awake. Sit up and punch my chest. The air fills my lungs. “I’m safe,” I say, remembering that I’m home. “I’m where I belong.” I take a deep breath. “It’s just a dream.” I open my eyes to my bedroom and take another shaky breath. “I have come back again to where I belong; not an enchanted place, but the walls are strong.”

The sun streams through the crack in my long, dark curtains. It’s still daylight. I scrub a hand over my face. What a fucking morning. After Lurlene had dropped me off, Rayna showed up at the apartment. The chick had this brilliant idea to lock herself in the basement with Slate. She plans to help get him clean by holding him hostage for a few days down there. Surprisingly, Jax went along with it. Jax and I carried Slate’s flaccid body down to the basement and then boarded up the doors.

After all that craziness, I decided to lay down for a bit and try to catch up on some zzz’s. It’s difficult to sleep next to a girl who you can’t get out of either of your heads. Last night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I wanted to remember every feeling of having Lurlene in my arms. The way she smelled, the soft tickle of her hair upon my face, her lush ass pressed against my cock. And the sounds, those cute little noises she made when she slept, were like a lullaby keeping me awake all night.

Then there was the boner.

Fuck, I reach down into my boxers and rub my blue balls. The woman is killing me. I shake my head. I can’t believe she thought that I didn’t want to fuck her. I guess that I kinda get it. It’s not as if I’ve used any of my moves on her. I’ve made no effort to try to get into her pants. If anything, I’ve struggled not to. She’s right. She scares me. I’m afraid of her, but I get the sense that she’s a little frightened of me too. With my reputation, a woman like her should be. It was smart on her part, crawling into bed with me last night. Somehow, she knew I’d never do anything with Addy right next-door.

Fucking Addy, she scared me too. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The walls start to shake around me as a loud hammering sound echoes through the place. I jump up and run out of my room.

“Jax! Zeke! Come on, you fuckers, open this fucking door!” I hear Slate yell from behind the boarded basement door.

Jax walks into the kitchen in a pair of jeans, scratching his chest. “He’s pissed.”

“Yeah.” I turn back to inspect the two-by-fours as they quiver beneath Slate’s pounding fits. I peek over at Jax and he lets out a laugh, and I start to laugh myself. “Holy shit.” I try to sober, snickering back another laugh. “Jax, that’s some fucked-up shit. Think he’ll ever forgive us?”

“Depends if Rayna can get through to him or not.”

“She’s okay down there, right?”

“Yeah, he won’t hurt her.”

I turn to him. “Ya sure about that?”

“Ya know it’s true.” He leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. “There is such a thing as ‘the one.’ There’s someone out there who we will love until the end of time, and Rayna is that one for Slate. He’d die before he let himself or anyone else hurt her.”

“How do you know she’s the one?” The moment the question leaves my mouth, I’m fully aware that I’m asking more for myself.

How do you know when you’ve found the one? Could Lurlene be my one? If I were in Slate’s state of mind, then who would be the safest from me? Whom would I keep safe against me? Fuck, Lurlene. I’m already doing that shit by not giving in to my feelings for her. I haven’t fucked her yet, for I know that’ll just seal the deal. If that happens, then I’d give her no opportunity to be free of me. She’d love me. I know she would. I see that seal in her eyes; it wants to be broken. She’s longing to open up and let me in. It’s why she got into bed with me last night. She was capable of getting closer to me without the threat of us consummating this relationship. That’s what’s been going on these past few weeks. We’re building something here, something that eventually will need to be finished.

“I don’t know,” Jax shrugs, “but Slate does. Besides, she has her cell. She’ll text if it gets too bad.”

“But what if it’s too late? You know how fucked up he is.”

“Hell, we’re all a little fucked up, but Rayna trusts him.” He looks at me for a few seconds. “And if he knows that she trusts him, then he will trust himself.”

“Does Emmie trust you?” Man, I don’t know where this shit is coming from, but Jax is being pretty damn cool about it. Since he started seeing Emmie, he’s loosened up some. Still, it’s weird to hear my brother talk about love and shit.

“Oh, yeah,” Jax says with a small smile, “and she’s the only woman that I trust myself with.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Let me see if I can explain it in a way that you’ll understand. You know those demons that wake you in the middle of the night?”

I knock my head back, and my body tenses.

“Yeah, I know about the nightmares, Zeke. Well, if I couldn’t do it, Emmie would slay those demons for me. Just like, right now, Rayna’s down there trying to slay Slate’s demons. Women like that are hard to find, especially for guys like us.” He chuckles. “But trust me, there’s one out there even for you, fucker.”

“I don’t want anyone slayin’ my fucking demons.”

“Oh, don’t fight it, little bro. You know she’s coming for ya. Swinging that mighty sword, she’s going to fight for you.” He laughs, setting his hand on my shoulder. “And no matter how hard you try, you’re gonna be defenseless against her.” He pats me on the back before leaving the kitchen.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Where’s Emmie?” I plop down on the sofa next to Rayna.

“Out with Jax. Hey …” She turns to face me hitting the remote to pause the movie that she insists I watch. “What was that all about the other night?”

“What?”

“When Slate was getting his ass kicked in the ring and I begged everyone to stop the fight but no one would until you asked Zeke. It was as if you had some kind of power over him. He was ready to do it.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t have to. Slate managed to spring back.” I smile not ready to indulge Rayna about Zeke’s and my relationship, or lack of since I haven’t heard from him since that night. It surprised me as well that he was going to throw in the towel when I asked him to do it. Jax wouldn’t even do it. “How’s he doing anyway?”

“Oh,” Rayna lets out a long sigh, “Zeke says he doesn’t think that he’s been using, but he can’t be sure. I haven’t really talked to Slate since I locked him up in the basement.”

“You worried about him?”

“No. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do that. He’s a grown man. He has to want to do this for himself. I just wanted to get him clean. Ya know, give him a head start. Now, whatever he decides is up to him.”

“You still care about him?”

“Honestly …” She stares straight ahead at the TV. “I don’t think that I ever stopped.”

I know that was hard for her to admit. I decide to give her a break and look at the paused movie on the TV. “So you’re really going to make me watch this?” I glance over at her from the corner of my eye with a small smile.

“Yes.” She laughs. “Everyone needs to watch
Grease
at least once in their lifetime.”

“Fine.” I stand. “But I’m getting a glass of wine first.” I march off toward the kitchen.

“Get two! Better yet, bring the bottle out here.” Rayna laughs.

Carrying two glasses of wine, I take a few steps back into the living room to find Slate Declan hovering over Rayna. My mouth drops open. I haven’t really met the man yet but up close, like his brothers, he is drop-dead gorgeous.

“Hey,” he says, pointing at me, “Lurlene, right?”

“Yes.” I blink, still standing in the middle of the room with the wine-filled glasses in my hands.

“I don’t think that we’ve formally met. I’m Slate, and I’m real sorry for barging in on you like this.” He scratches his head, the muscles in his arms moving gracefully with the action. “But I think Rayna forgot that she promised to help me with something. Of course, she can help me right here,” he turns to Rayna, pointing at the couch, “or we could go to your room?” He smiles down at her. “It’s entirely up to you.” His head bends, and whatever he’s whispering into Rayna’s ear has her blushing beet red.

“Let’s go to my room,” she says between tight lips.

“Ah…” I clear my throat, trying to remind them that they’re not alone. “I think that I’ll get dressed and go pick up a movie or something.” I look at Rayna, waiting for her approval. Her eyes roll with an apology, but she nods. I place the wine glasses on the coffee table and smile at the man who has my normally calm and collected friend all twisted in knots. “It’s nice to have formally met you, Slate.”

His head turns, and he offers me a huge generous smile. “Likewise.” He twists back to Rayna just as I start to climb the stairs to change.

Five minutes later, I’m in the golf cart, heading straight for JZS. I tell myself it’s for a drink, and who knows, maybe I’ll run into Emmie. If not, there’s always Melody. I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s a friend of Rayna and Emmie. She’s a waitress there, so I have two strong possibilities of finding a drinking partner or, at least, someone to talk with. And if I happen to run into Zeke, well, I’ll deal with it.

I park the golf cart and head into the bar. It’s not too busy. Perhaps, there’s no fight tonight. Looking around and not seeing any familiar faces, I make my way to the bar and take a seat on a stool.

“Hey,” the bartender comes over, “what can I get ya.”

I’ve seen her a few times. Jax introduced me to her. I think her name is Rusty. She’s a manager or something. Jax speaks very highly of her. She has the whole tomboy look going on. Tiny white tee, tight jeans, and not a speck of makeup—she’s cute. “A light beer, whatever you have on tap is fine,” I say, placing my purse on the bar.

“You got it.” She winks before filling a tall glass from the tap. “Here ya go.” She sets the frothy drink in front of me.

“Thanks.” I grab a twenty from my purse and slide it to her on the bar.

“Oh-ho no,” she shakes her head, “this one’s on me.”

“Why?”

“You see that blonde over there.” She nudges her chin.

I glance over my shoulder and spot a pretty blonde with big, bouncy breasts. They’re practically popping out of her low neckline. “Yeah,” I say.

“What about the one in the pink shirt with the short white skirt,” she says, and I nod finding the other blonde. “And then, there’s the brunette with the long wavy hair. The one dancing, see her?”

I turn back to the bartender. “Yes,” I say, confused.

“Over the past few weeks each of them has hit on Zeke Declan and he shot them all down. And I think that has something to do with you. Soooo,” she places her hand on the twenty and pushes it back to me, “this one is on me.”

I stare at her unsure how to respond.

“He likes you,” she rests her forearms on the bar and leans in toward me, “and I don’t think he knows what to do about it. And I’ve known Zeke for three years, he’s a good friend, but I’ve never seen him like this.”

I pick up my beer and take a sip. If I’ve learned anything, when someone is talking and you want to hear more about what they’re saying, it’s best just to be silent and let them talk.

“I mean,” she stands up and smacks the bar with her hand, “when he saw you here the other night talking to that guy who nearly kicked his ass in the ring—that big bearded guy—I swear, I didn’t think Zeke Declan owned the emotion but hot damn, he so was jealous. He was ready to kill the guy.”