Lauren

 

It was almost midnight by the time I finished the paper and turned off my laptop. Michael had spent most of that time in my bedroom talking to god only knew who. When he wasn’t in there, he was pacing through the kitchen, looking over at me with a mixture of irritation and desire. I couldn’t tell if he was still pissed about my lying to his detective or if he was pissed because he wanted me to hurry up so he could get in my pants.

 

Personally, I wanted to hurry up to let him get in my pants. He’d taken the liberty of removing his shirt and boots, walking around my apartment in his jeans and a wife-beater. Every ripple of his arms and abs was easily seen. The more I watched him pace around, the wetter my panties got at the idea of peeling that damn tank off him and getting a good look at his body.

 

I tried reminding myself that I wasn’t going to be his fuck toy anymore, that we couldn’t have a physical relationship because he wouldn’t ever be able to have more than that with me. I tried, but my body wanted his and my mind agreed to ignore my earlier decision.

 

Tucking my laptop away to charge, I padded my way to my bedroom. Michael stood at the window looking out while on his phone. “Kelly, just pass along the message. Yeah. No, I won’t be in the garage tomorrow. I’m busy tonight. Good night, Kelly.”

 

Who the hell was Kelly? I went about changing into my pajamas, pretending to not have heard his conversation. When I turned back around from the dresser he was facing me.

 

“Done with your paper?” His gruff voice put me on edge.

 

“Yep. All done. Get all your calls made?” I tried to put a smoothness to my voice, but couldn’t tell if I had succeeded or not.

 

“Yeah. Tony didn’t have much for me, but said Prez just started drinking, so by the end of the night, he should get something.”

 

“Good. You’re not going to work again tomorrow?”

 

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m going in the afternoon, just for a few things while you’re at class.”

 

“Ah. Okay. You don’t have to babysit me, Michael. Really.”

 

“Are you working tomorrow?” he asked instead of acknowledging my statement.

 

“No, it’s Friday. I told Asya I was working so you wouldn’t have to turn down her invitation for dinner.”

 

“Yeah. Maybe we can hook up with them after all this mess is over with, but we can still go out, do something fun. A movie or something.” He moved over to me, taking the pajamas from my hands. “If you want to, that is.”

 

“You sure you don’t have plans with Kelly?” That could have been subtler, but my nerves were on edge.

 

He laughed. “Kelly isn’t the sort of girl you take to a movie.”

 

“Oh. I see.” I tried to grab my nightgown back, but he held it out from my, just out of my grasp.

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

“She’s one of your fuck toys. Like me. Just a plaything until you’re bored.” I reached for the nightgown again, but he threw it across the room.

 

“What was it I said about you using that word?” His voice dropped, his eyes darkened.

 

“Does she have the same rules?” What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t know.

 

“Kelly doesn’t have any rules. She’s not mine.”

 

“Not anymore, right? Got bored with her, did you?”

 

“Are you jealous of an old flame, Lauren?” The right side of his mouth cocked up in a half grin.

 

Of course I was, but why.

 

“Kelly, wasn’t mine, not like you are. She was a toy, yes. One that she wanted to be, and still does, I’ll be up front about that. But I’ve never given her the idea we were anything more than that.”

 

“Just like us, right? When you figure out who was trying to hurt me, you’ll go away again. Disconnect from me. That’s what you’ve made damn clear.”

 

“Watch yourself, Lauren.”

 

“Oh, I am. See, I’m not okay with being your fuck toy, or fuck buddy, or whatever you want to call it. If you are going to stay here tonight, you can crash on the couch.” I stepped away from him and pointed to the door.

 

“I don’t think that’s what your body wants.” His smooth voice told the truth, but it wasn’t my body that needed him to go. I was going to lose him again, I knew that, and how much that hurt when it happened depended on how much I let myself fall for him. “You aren’t my fuck toy, Lauren.”

 

“Then what are we doing? You’ve already put an expiration date on us. So just go sleep on the couch, don’t make everything harder than it has to be. Better yet, just go home. You can come back in the morning if you want to take me to school, but just go.”

 

“You know what? Fine.” He pushed past me and barged into the living room. He found his boots and pulled them on, not looking at me while he tied the laces. His jaw tensed as well as all of muscles in his back. He grabbed his shirt from where he’d tossed it on the couch and pulled it on over his head, messing up his hair in the process. “You want to be a big girl, take care of yourself and not take any help from me, fine. I’m not having this same fight with you again and again, every fucking time you get it in your head I’m just going to disappear on you one day.”

 

“Get it in my head? You put it in my head. You did that, you disappeared on me.”

 

“And I explained why. I told you—”

 

“You gave me a load of bullshit. Protecting me? From what, the big bad man you became?” I couldn’t stop the words as they flew from my mouth. “I’ve seen more than you think, I’ve done more than you know, and not a single bit of that makes me less worthy of something great. So if you think that because you were in jail, because you took a wrong turn in your biker club, that it would make you less worthy of a connection with another person, then you are as dumb as everyone said you were in high school.”

 

His jaw clamped shut and his nostrils flared. Without another word, he yanked open my front door and left, slamming it behind him. I heard his booted steps down the stairs, and the outer door slam, too. When I heard the rev of his motorcycle I hurried to the front window. I ducked behind the curtain when he looked back up at my apartment, as though second guessing his leaving. He shook his head, cursed loud enough for me to hear it through the glass and took off down the street.

 

Well, hell.

 

***

 

I half expected to find Michael on my doorstep the next morning, but I didn’t. Instead, I found a note taped to my door.

 

What makes you think you can just walk away without paying what you owe? Drop the internship, and get back to work.

 

My breath caught in my throat and I crushed the note in my hand. Tanner had been right. I really hated when he was right.

 

If Michael had been there, he would know what to do, and would take no time taking over the situation. But he wasn’t there. He left. I’d thrown him out.

 

Make one mistake, and it can live with you forever, even if you try shaking it. The note proved that to me. I hadn’t shaken it, hadn’t left it behind me.

 

I needed to get to school, so I tossed the note into my bag and started off toward the bus stop. The long ride to school, even in the heat, would calm my nerves by the time I got there. I would need to call Tanner. He’d have an idea of how to get a hold of him. Maybe he could intervene, to talk him off the damn ledge.

 

I still didn’t understand what the internship had to do with the note, but it was obvious Michael had been right about that. Someone wanted me off that internship bad enough to conjure up old ghosts.

 

I had no debts, owed nothing to anyone. But that didn’t mean people didn’t still think they deserved more than they got, and those people were dangerous. I needed Tanner. I needed Michael, too, but I ruined that pretty good. Instead of just taking what he could give, I pushed him for more than he could. Of course he ran away; it was what he did best when he felt caged in.

 

Class went by in a blur and I missed pretty much everything the teacher said. If Michael were right and his club were involved, and the Fallen were involved, that meant Tanner might not be able to get the information I needed, or protect me. His hands didn’t reach into those pockets. He stayed away from the bikers. When Colton had approached me, Tanner warned me to stay away, but I didn’t listen. Colton hadn’t hurt me. Being honest, I’d have to admit it was the fact that he reminded me of Michael that made me go out with him. The overprotective nature, the interest in my safety, but he lacked Michael’s care. Colton didn’t give a crap if I were safe or if I were happy; he only cared about not letting other men near me.

 

Caleb hadn’t been much better, except he only wanted to know where I was so I couldn’t walk in on him cheating on me. That plan didn’t always work for him, though. Tanner hadn’t warned me about him; instead he’d laughed about him. Such a weakling, he’d said when he ran into us one afternoon.

 

“Hey, Lauren.” Pierre slid into the seat beside me in the lecture hall. It was then I realized class had ended. The majority of the students had filed out already. “Look, I know I’ve been a little…irrational about the internship. It’s just, well, look, we both know I deserve it more than you. We both know how you managed to get your spot in this program, and how you pay for your tuition. That little shelter and maid job you have can barely pay your rent, so let’s not beat around the bush anymore.”

 

I wanted to get up, to walk away from him, but his hand clamped down on my knee. Keeping me where I was. The last of the students left the hall, letting the door bang closed behind them. “Pierre.”

 

“No. No talking. Just listen. You don’t seem to be getting the hint. You don’t deserve to be in the top, not when you whored your way up there.”

 

“I didn’t whore my way anywhere.”

 

“You think I don’t know. That’s cute. You aren’t the only one with connections, the only one who knows people in dangerous places. That internship is mine. Drop it, or the warnings will get a little more personal. Maybe your mom could convince you.”

 

“My mom.” My heart raced. “Touch my mom, and you’ll die,” I whispered, unable to get my voice to raise to where I wanted it.

 

“I won’t. Please. I don’t get my hands dirty, but if you don’t start wising up, I’ll have to tap those resources I told you about.”

 

“Why do you want this so badly?” His hand started tightening on my knee, squeezing it to the point of sharp pain.

 

“Why do you? Because it’s the best damn position in the city. But is it worth your mom getting hurt? Or you getting hurt? You need to remember what trash you really are and step back in place.” He leaned toward me, his nose brushing against mine. “Too bad you didn’t work for that friend of yours.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, and I yanked away, earning another hared squeeze to my leg. His nails dug into me. “You could have made some good cash.” His tongue jutted out of his mouth and ran along my jaw.

 

“Pierre.” I tried to move out of my chair, but his other hand gripped my hair, holding me exactly where he wanted me.

 

“Maybe if I fuck you, I’ll want to give up on the opportunity of a lifetime, what do you think? Would you do that for me? Give me that pussy of yours in exchange.”

 

My stomach turned at his touch. He dragged my head forward, nodding it in response to his absurd suggestion. “Is that a yes? Such a good whore.” He laughed. “It’s a good thing you wore that pretty sundress today, easier for me you see, not to have to tear off your pants.”

 

“Get the fuck off me.” I pushed against him, but he was heavier than he looked and all it earned me was a yank of my hair.

 

He reached over and pulled at the top of my dress, popping off several buttons and opening it until my breasts popped out. “Ah, that’s what they look like.” He moved his hand off my knee, and grabbed one breast, squeezing it just as hard. I yelled out from his nails.

 

He yanked my hair again. “Yell like that gain, and I gag you.”

 

The door behind us flew open, and before he could look behind him to see who was there, he was being pulled off me and thrown to the ground in the aisle. I pulled my dress together and stood up, grabbing my things to run out. It took one look to see it was Michael. He was on top of Pierre, pounding his fist into his face.

 

“Don’t kill him,” I yelled, and Michael stopped mid punch to give me an incredulous look.

 

He focused his glare back on Pierre. “Touch her again, and you fucking die. You got me?”

 

Pierre smiled, showing his bloody teeth. “Fuck you.” It took one more punch from Michael to knock him out.

 

I slumped back into the seat, holding my dress closed. My body quaked, and the spot where his nails had dug into my knee had started to bleed. Michael left Pierre and came over to me, looking at the small cut on my leg, then took in the sight of my dress.

 

He didn’t say a word. He just pushed my hands away and buttoned what could be buttoned back up, mostly covering me up. He wiped the hair from my face, and looked me in the eyes. I needed his touch at that moment, his lips to cover mine, to let me know I hadn’t completely ruined us.

 

“Let’s get you home.” He helped me stand and took my bag from me. When we came to where Pierre lay unconscious he pulled me to him, capturing my mouth beneath his. Not gentle, but not demanding either. Exactly what I needed. I belonged to him.

 

He wrapped his arm around my waist and walked me up the last few steps to the doors. The students for the next class started to trickle in. A girl screamed, and someone flew out of the room, running down the corridor, but Michael just kept walking with me slowly toward the parking lot.

 

How many times did this man have to save me? After all the years I took care of myself, gotten myself into crappy situations and managed to get out of them on my own, why did he still need to save me from men like Pierre?

 

I let him help me get into the cab of his truck and shut the door, leaning against the window and not caring about the heat in the truck. He drove us back to his house, and I didn’t argue. I didn’t want to go back to my place, where that note had appeared, where the reminder of how much danger I was in, how much danger my mom could be in, all because I’d gotten that internship.

 

No, it was more than that. It was because after I couldn’t find Michael, I’d met up with Tanner, I’d worked for him. I ran messages, packages, anything really between him and his associates. I didn’t know who they were or what the messages said. I didn’t know anything. Tanner wouldn’t tell me even if I asked. It was my innocence. People trusted me. And because I’d earned enough money to pay for college, and because Tanner pulled strings to get me into the architecture program, I had people out for me. I’d taken what wasn’t mine, reached for things outside my grasp.

 

And now I’d pay.