Coming to, I see before me June and Professor Prescott tied in chairs. I have tape in one of my hands, and a knife in the other. They’re yelling at each other, completely oblivious to me being here.

Pulling myself off the counter, I look around noticing I’m in their house once again, it’s so clean I feel dirty.

“You take advantage of young girls!”

“They want my dick! They want my affection. Unlike you! All you can think about is yourself!”

“Maybe if you actually had a dick, that would change! The only affection you have in your body is for the sight of money, and you know it!”

“Maybe if you would just let me love you, I wouldn’t have to treat women like objects! Fucking girl from girl behind your back just to feel something inside. You think I like that?”

My heart constricts watching them fight. Hearing the professor refer to me as an object. I was his object. A toy.

“Is that what I was?” I interrupt as I look the knife in my hand over. They both shut up and look at me with wide eyes. “Was I just an object to you? Another cum dumpster waiting on the sidelines?” I quip with a light shrug. I play it off, but inside I’m cracking, I’m falling apart.

I can’t tell if I’m sad or angry. I feel what I feel, hurt, but in the background, I hear Harley in my head screaming in anger at the professor. It causes my hand to shake, the knife in my hand a tempting tool to end the professor’s game.

“We didn’t fuck,” he informs dryly. As if he didn’t stick his penis in me we had zero connection; no feelings were involved. My eyes fall to the floor. Was everything in my head, was there never a connection. Maybe I wanted one so bad, I made it all up in my head.

“You told me you didn’t love her, but you didn’t want to love me either.” I flick my eyes from the floor to him

“What did you expect, a diamond ring? You’re not wife material, babe,” he scoffs before crossing his shiny black shoes over one another. He sounds like one of the dumb boys at the college.

My heart falls to my feet in shards of heated passion. No one to love and nobody to care for me. Thunder claps against my rib cage as I try to breathe through the raging sea inside my chest. My palm begins to sweat as the knife in my hand burns into my skin. Voices in my head telling me to use it, to hurt him like he hurt me.

I drop it and gasp for air.

Looking up through my bangs, I cannot contain all of the feelings combusting in my chest like a giant firecracker going off on the Fourth of July. I run at him, tackling him to the ground. Falling to the floor the chair splinters into a million pieces.

June is screaming in fear and I’m so angry so sad and full of loneliness… I let the voices take over and the black bleeds into visions of chaos and blood.

Pulling up to the house of the professor I hear Harley screaming from inside. Slamming the car in park, I jump out, not bothering to shut the door behind me. Running across the lawn, I head inside the house with my gun drawn.

Stepping inside, my boots leave muddy prints behind, and I whip my gaze and gun to the left and right. Finding nothing, I head further into the house.

Coming into a kitchen, I find the governor’s daughter tied up in a chair screaming as she rocks the chair back and forth. Right beside her on the ground is the professor tied up and trying to fight off Harley.

Harley. I let out a small breath seeing her alive. Beating the shit out of the professor, but alive. I lower my gun and head toward her.

Harley freezes from pummeling the teacher and grabs a high heel next to his head. I hurry to her just as she screams so loud my ears ring, and the point of the heel cracks into the side of his skull.

The sound of shoe and skull one I’ve not heard before I stop. My eyes flicking from Harley and the man on the ground. Did she kill him?

The professor stills beneath her, blood spilling from his head and filling the shoe.

“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath.

“NOOOO!” June screams, her makeup and tears chapping her face. Rocking the chair hysterically, she tries to get to him. But it’s too late, he’s dead. The heel of the shoe is dug into his skull so far there’s no pulling it out. Harley blinks a couple of times, her hands clasping the shoe. I know that look. She’s just coming to, Farrah must have been in the light.

Wait? Did Farrah kill the professor? Shaking my head of the thought, I quickly rush over to her and gently lay my hand on hers holding the heel lodged in the man’s head, urging her to let go of the shoe. She begins to shake, a whimper spilling from her lips as she looks upon the dead man.

“Did- did I kill him?” she whispers with a shaky voice.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let go,” I coax her. It was both of them, they both killed the professor. The first time ever that Farrah and Harley worked together.

She looks up at me with wide ocean colored eyes. Her green irises looking darker with her soul set in panic.

“No, I need to know. Did I?” she begs me to tell her what happened. “All I remember is my arm striking down as I blinked from the darkness.” She begins to cry, piecing the puzzle back together.

“TELL ME!?” she demands in a hysterical voice. “This was supposed to be my kill, not Farrah’s!

I snake my arms around her tightly, trying to contain her panic. Her head falls back, her eyes closed as she cries through her mental pain.

“You both did it, babe,” I whisper to her. She falls silent in my hold and I squeeze her tighter. Fuck, to feel her against me and to know she is okay and safe… it’s a fucking relief. Her skin is clammy, her heart racing so fast I’m surprised she’s not passed out.

She looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. Blood smeared on her right cheek and a lost look gazing at me for help. When she comes forward from being in the light of Farrah, she’s confused and vulnerable. Often times, dangerous. Only I can control her.

“Stay still,” I tell her. My go-to phrase for warding off the echoes in her head, the guilt panging in her chest at what just happened.

“Can you feel my heart beat against your back?” I whisper softly. She closes her eyes and nods. Her wet lashes fluttering along her face. “Can you hear only my voice?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, the hysteria in her voice slowly fading.

“The chaos and the voices can’t be heard if you stay still and let me have you,” I remind her, tugging her closer to my warm body.

She opens her eyes, her hands clasping my leather cut with a death grip.

“Benji? I love you,” she reveals softly.

I freeze. The clocks in the room stop ticking and my lungs seize to take in air.

“What?” I ask. I heard her, but I need to hear it again. I’ve chased this woman far too long to hear her confession as a mere whisper.

“I love you,” she repeats, this time with more strength than before.

“Fuck, I love you too,” I breathe heavily. Grasping the nape of her neck, I take her lips to mine. The smell of blood, leather, and her scent of bubblegum filling my head.

Her lips a perfect match to mine, my hands pull her dainty dress over her head and throw it in the corner with reckless abandon. She wraps her legs around my waist and her lips eagerly kissing all over my neck. One of her hands slides along the wooden floor guiding her back to the floor, the other pulling me on top of her.

Her body is rushing with adrenaline and need. The rush to fuck and feel something rather than face what just happened her only mission.

My jeans a little loose, I shove them down to my ankles, and she tugs my briefs down far enough for my cock to spring free. It’s hard and throbbing. Veins protruding around it and the pulsing sensation is so intense I’m ready to tear into her sweet pussy. I don’t give a fuck if the wife tied to the chair is watching and there’s a dead guy, feet away from us.

I’m taking her now.

Spreading her legs her sweet cunt drips, ready for me.

“Say it again?” I demand.

“I love you. Love me!” she pants, reaching forward she fists my cock and I thrust inside of her.

“Fuck yes.” I push through gritted teeth. Propping myself on one elbow, I use my free hand to grasp her bare thigh, pulling her closer to me. Needing her skin touching my skin, wanting to feel her wrapped around me. Her pussy is tight and warm, it’s like fucking heaven between her legs.

Anywhere else is hell and even though I’m a bad man… I’m not to her.

Her eyes are closed as she rocks back and forth on the cold floor with every thrust. Her cheeks flush, and hair of brown and pink splay around her like a dark angel.

“Excuse me?” the wife says with disgust. “Are you guys serious?”

“Shut up!” Harley yells, pleasure thick in her voice causing her to sound raspy.

Gently I cup her neck as my dick pulses inside of her. This bitch is mine, she said it herself. She gave herself to me, and my next step is going to be taking that fucking gavel from her old man.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

Looking between our heated bodies, I watch as my cock slides in and out of her pussy lips. Her wetness coating my dick. Her pink cunt, squeezing, and milking my length so fucking good.

“You like that cock?”

“God, yes.” She rocks against me.

Her face scrunches, her body tensing as she’s about to come. Her fiery eyes look up at me, her mouth parting as she tenses beneath me. The sight of her coming undone unravels me and I swirl my hips as I rock into her harder. My cock pumping every drop of cum I have to offer right inside of her.

Out of breath, she looks directly at me. Her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Her tongue slides along her lips, wetting them.

She glances at the wife and her cheeks turn the brightest shade of red from embarrassment. So lost in the moment, she didn’t really think about fucking in front of a stranger.

Quickly, she uses her elbows to sit up, shyness creeping into her eyes. I shimmy off my cut to help cover her and to keep her warm, as I lean over and grab her dress I threw in the corner.

Pulling my jeans up, I risk taking a glance at the wife. She’s so red in the face it’s humorous.

“Sorry, we could have fucked in your bed, but when the moment hits… it hits,” I chuckle.

“Brother?” Harley and I look to a familiar voice.

Viper stands in the doorway with a gun in his hand, looking like the fucking police. His blond hair a mess as if he’s been running his hands through it anxiously. He’s wearing his cut and a black shirt with holes all in it. His jeans the same.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” My brows furrow in question.

He whips his gun in my direction and when he sees me, his shoulders relax and he lowers the .45.

“Fuck, man.” He’s angry. “I’ve been trying to call you. You had me scared to death something fucking happened!”

“How’d you find us?” Harley asks, standing up. Now fully dressed.

He points to me. “Dipshit’s, phone.” I scowl at him. He looks down at the dead body and then to June. “Fuuuck.” He looks amused. His eyes bloodshot and dilated from drugs.

“Seriously, why are you here?” I ask again.

He shakes his head, his hand raising to rub at his chin.

“Word has it you went rogue, brother. Grudge is telling everyone you went against code and shit. I knew it wasn’t true, so I had to find you, make sure you were still breathing.”

Biting my bottom lip, I point at him at a loss for words. Grudge is going against me and it stings.

“It’s not true,” I clip. Raising my hand, I rub at my chin, staring Viper down. He has to know I would never turn my back on my club. Grudge, yes, but not my club. Grudge is playing a dangerous game trying to throw me under the bus. He wants to get rid of me because he wants to get rid of Harley because she’s a threat to him. But with me around, that will never happen.

“My dad… he’s forgotten the creed of our club,” Harley whispers, the sadness in her voice makes my chest constrict. She’s tough, but I hate that she has to be that way.

I raise a brow and rub the back of my neck as I look the group over. “We’ll deal with him when we get back to the club.”

“What are we going to do with her?” Viper asks, nodding his head at June.

Looking at her, I exhale a deep breath. Taped to the chair she continues to look at her dead husband, the high heel still sticking out of his head morbidly.

“Use her as bait,” Harley insists, her voice now with confidence. “Her dad did fuck us over, you already got this far, might as well play it out, babe.” I approve. Harley needs this. She needs to see what we do on runs, see if this is where she wants her place in the club to be.

Harley steps over to the professor and digs in his pocket a second before pulling out a black phone. Her hand shakes, and she keeps her head as far away as she can from the dead body. I can tell just by looking at her, she’s not ready for this kind of shit. She wants to be a part of the club, but when it comes to this shit… she’s not going to be around it. Not if I can help it.

I know she won’t sit behind the counter and sling drinks to the boys, and I don’t want her to, but I also don’t want bloodshed on my woman’s hands. She deserves better than that.

“What are you doing with that?” Viper looks confused.

Ignoring Viper, Harley takes a picture of the scene before us. June taped to a chair, her hair and face a fucking wreck. A broken chair splintered all over the floor next to her, and her husband dead in a cold pool of blood. A black and red heel sticking out of his skull. His eyes are open and mouth agape.

It’s pretty fucking gruesome looking.

The clicking noise makes June look away and she continues to weep.

“I sent the picture to the contact governor, texted him told him to pay up or she’s next. He’ll know who he needs to pay,” she informs, handing me the phone.

My mouth goes slack with the wits of this bitch, she’s constantly surprising me. I put it in my pocket and run my hand over my sweaty forehead.

“I bet he owes a lot of people money,” Viper scoffs, crossing his arms.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” June huffs. “How much could he possibly owe for you to do something like this?” Her wide glossy eyes fall to each one of us. “You’re all animals. Fucking animals!” She begins to lose her shit.

“Doesn’t matter how much he owes, it’s about the respect.” My tone dry.

She rolls her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Turning away from her I look to Viper.

“Until the dad pays up, take my car, Harley, and this bitch back to the club. I have a mess to clean up,” I inform. In a neighborhood like this, it’s only a matter of time before someone gets nosy and calls the cops.

“Wait, you want me to go without you?” Harley looks at me with confusion wrinkling her face. Her eyes wide, and mouth parted beautifully. I don’t want to be away from her either, but it’s safer this way.

“Yes, it’s not safe. The governor could retaliate or the cops could show up. I want you at the club. I’ll be there soon after.” I toss her my keys and she catches them with confused eyes. “Follow Viper back to the club.”

“What about my stuff at the dorm?”

“You mean your gun?” I glower at her, and her face falls.

“I’ll get everything. Nobody will know you were even there,” I tell her. I’m not good at a lot of shit, but making people disappear is one thing I excel in.

“But this is my mess, I should help,” Harley insists, ignoring June.

Grabbing her by the neck, I kiss her on the forehead.

“I’ve been cleaning up your messes since we were kids, Harley.”