What happens when a finger painting prodigy hitches a ride from a disfigured biker? Why chaos of course!
Quirky, oddball Georgie is anything but normal. For years she hasn't only suffered from a lack of filter but she also has "episodes." She can't...
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Everything ruthlessly bulldozes through me. The whirlwind of information Adonis shared and Dana showing up. The hardest part for me to get over is how my appearance here has caused nothing but trouble.
Usually that's my staple and I own it.
Not this time.
There's movement in the living room and Dana shrieks out, "What the hell?! I help you and that's what I get?"
Adonis's low voice hits me hard in the chest as he growls out, "That's not a form of payment you're getting... ever. There's only one woman I want to kiss and she isn't you."
My retinas burn and I take a deep breath. It's not his fault but Dana's mouth on his has literally opened up a part of me I didn't know existed... a jealous hulk.
I'm in my head which is a dangerous place for me to be, but at this point I don't care anymore.
"You alright, Tater Tot?"
When I turn I'm met by Bones, not Adonis. "Peachy."
He sits on the seat in the kitchen and I narrow my eyes at him causing him to lift his hands up. "Hey, I'm not the enemy here, I promise."
I shake my head and turn back to looking outside the window above the sink. I feel sick and dizzy probably from lack of sleep and this blasted kitchen. All hope of reverting back to myself for that one glorious moment has been squashed again. The fight for my sanity and spunk is back at full force.
I hate her.
He chuckles. "I bet you do. Don't blame you either."
I slouch down and put my head into my arms. "He pushed her off."
"Yeah, he hadn't agreed to that term of payment. He's devotedly yours, babe. You can blame me for needing her assistance. She was closest and loyal to the club despite everything," Bones explains. "Payment for her help was letting her back around."
I bite my tongue from lashing out my thoughts and taste blood. I'm losing it. Swallowing the iron down, I realize that I need a distraction or else I may wind up going all Norman Bates and shoving a steak knife repeatedly into Dana.
"What was he like before?" I ask.
He shifts in the chair as I tear my eyes away from the sunrise and dig in the cupboards for a baggy. "He wasn't someone you'd want to be in the same building as. You probably would've walked the opposite way if you had seen him. Scared and timid."
"Is that how everyone sees me? Because I'm small I'm timid and scared? Sorry to break it to you but I'm not. In fact, I can't remember that last time I was actually scared of anything."
Besides myself.
Bones examines me, but doesn't answer my questions, knowing they weren't aimed at him. Instead, he continues. "He was cold, ruthless, calculating."
