Page 28 of Craving Her

“You just need to give me a chance. I will show you I can be a good woman for you. We both know you love my body. I could make you happy, Joker. Eventually, I’ll even make you forget the woman that you wanted to claim. You don’t need to take on some bitch just because she’s your Enforcer’s daughter!”

“Jesus, how could I not see how delusional you are. Skylar is the woman I’ve always wanted. She’s not a replacement and you’re not fit to mention her name.”

“I—”

“And if you ever disrespect her or call her a bitch again, they’ll never find all the pieces of you to even bury you, Debbie. That’s the only promise you will ever get from me,” I growl.

“Wheeler?” I growl, calling out the President’s name.

“Yo,” he says.

“Thanks for the hospitality. I’ll be staying tonight, but Skylar and I will be leaving in the morning. I’d rather not have her here where this bitch can spew poison at her—especially since Freeze made it clear to her before I got here that I had a woman now.”

“You can stay, Joker. I’ll make sure Debbie is on her best behavior. Isn’t that right, Debbie?”

Debbie looks at me and I see the anger in her eyes, but there’s also hurt. Jesus. I wasn’t lying; I made it clear with any woman I have been with where I stood. That this is even happening has me on edge. If it’s like this here, then what kind of reception are the twinkies going to give Skylar when she’s introduced as my woman back home? Fuck, suddenly it’s not Bull or Breaker I need to worry about ending what I have with Skylar.It’s her.

I grunt. “Thanks. I’ll talk it over with Skylar and let her decide,” I mutter, and then I walk off before I drag Debbie out of here by the hair on her head just to get her away from my woman.

I have no idea which room Trudy took Skylar to, so I start walking blindly down the hall where most of the bedrooms are. This structure used to be an old beer brewing facility and Wheeler and the men redid quite a bit to make it a nice setup. The walls are a combination of old wood and cinderblock and yet somehow it looks great. I breathe a sigh of relief as Trudy comesout of a door, shutting it behind her. I stop walking and she comes the ten feet or so to meet me.

“You shouldn’t go in there unless you plan on sticking with her this time,” she warns.

“Skylar’s of age now. I’m not going anywhere.”

“She’s been of age for two years,” Trudy counters.

I shrug, not agreeing or disagreeing. “The woman deserves better than me.”

“Then try being a better you,” she grumbles, as if that’s a simple thing to do. “Anyway, take it easy on her. She hides it well, but there’s a mountain of hurt inside of that girl, and it all has your name on it, Joker,” she mutters, slapping my arm as she passes me.

Well, shit.

That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear. It leaves me wondering if Skylar has been telling Trudy all about us. Looks like it might be time to clear the air between the two of us. It has to be done, because I’ve already claimed her in front of one of our sister clubs. There’s no going back now, and honestly, I don’t want to.

I take a deep breath and bite the bullet, walking to Skylar’s door. I turn the knob, but it’s locked. I put my forehead against the door. It’s a good thing she locks it, but damn, I was hoping this would be easier. I should have known that nothing concerning Skylar would be easy. I pull back enough to knock on her door. She doesn’t answer. There’s just silence and I know damn well that she hasn’t had time to fall asleep yet. I knock again, louder this time. “Peaches let me in.” I wait a minute or so and there’s no answer. There’s no one walking around as if to come to the door. At first, I start to get upset. Then another thought hits me.What if she fell or something?The floors in this place are concrete. She might have fallen and hit her head. My woman could be lying on the floor, bleeding and unconscious.Usually, I’m not a man to feel fear, but suddenly it’s firing through me. Pounding on the door one last time, I give it a couple of minutes—okay, maybe just one. When there’s still no answer, I refuse to wait a second longer. If a head wound is bad enough, you could bleed out easily. I’m not letting that happen to Skylar.

I kick on the door. It’s wooden and kind of old. You’d think Wheeler and the boys would invest in better ones. It takes two kicks and me ramming it shoulder first to get it to break off the hinges though, so maybe it was stronger than I gave it credit for. I look around the room frantically, truly expecting to see Skylar unconscious on the floor.

She’s not there.Nope.She comes storming out of the connected bathroom in nothing but a towel, looking like a goddess with water dripping down her exposed skin.

“What the fuck are you doing, Torin?” she snaps, with fire in her eyes that would burn clean through a lesser man.

It might have just scorched a few of my brain cells because the only thing I can get out is three small words. No, notthosewords. These are words that make me sound like the idiot that I’m currently feeling like.

“You’re not dead.”

Skylar opens her mouth to scream a blistering response—of that much, I’m sure. Suddenly, she surprises me by snapping it closed, biting down on her lip as she fights her rage. She turns and marches back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. I thrust my fingers into my hair, knowing anything that I planned to hash out with the woman tonight might have to be put on hold. I should have expected it. Nothing ever comes easy when it has to do with the feelings I have for Skylar Kane.

Fuck …

Chapter 15

Skylar

I storm back into the bathroom because I’m not sure if I want to scream or throw things at him. Mostly, I have this overwhelming urge to slap the hell out of him. I figure doing that wouldn’t be healthy for either of us, so I escape. I suppose there’s nothing to stop him from doing to this door what he did to the other one. If he tries it, I’ll kill him. As I glance around the small—but usable—bathroom, I see several items that I can use as a weapon, including a pair of scissors. I happen to think they’d look lovely buried in his damn balls. Maybe then he’d learn to stay away from brain-dead bimbos like Debbie.

I dry myself off quickly, wishing that I had brought my pajamas in here. I don’t have many clothes here, but I left a few. It’s just things I don’t wear often. I left them in case I didn’t want to go home after dinner or whatever. It doesn’t happen much, but sometimes if it’s really late, I do it. I hate driving in Cincinnati. They’realwaysworking on the roads here, so traffic can be horrible at any time. I alsohatedriving at night. Secretly, I despise it here, but I would never admit that to anyone in my family. I hate everything about living in the city. I really miss Kentucky.