Page 68 of Bleed Me

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Again, there was so much to discuss with everything I had just been shown, but I wanted to get back to the basics. I craved the girl by my side like starved lungs crave oxygen. We had just buried a brother and moved the possible mother of my child into a place of her own. I needed to be with Justice—to calm me, to ground me, to remind me of what we were sharing and the roots we were growing.

So, with much poise, I asked, “Your place or mine?” I’m so smooth.

Smirking, Justice leaned a shoulder to the hallway where we were alone. “You are so smooth.”

“Dude! I was just thinking that!”

Palm to her face. “Got me a winner.”

Since I was clearly on a roll, I waltzed right up to my woman, spreading my hands across her chest, fingers sliding her vest apart, giving me access to what I wanted to play with the most. With both thumbs in the right spots, I caressed her pert nipples that were poking through her tight white t-shirt. “Need these in my mouth—”

“Giver!” boomed her brother’s voice.

Ah, shit! My hands got all twisted in her vest as I fought to not feel up the trigger-happy President’s sister right in front of him. It was hopeless. The damage was done. Even free of her vest, my hands were screaming, I just played with your sister’s titties!

Lynx smacked the back of my head as he walked past us. “When are you moving this idiot into your room?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned a corner and went on his way.

Justice pulled her vest wide. “Where were we?”

Made. For. My. Motherfucking. Soul!

Due to her room being far more decked out—surround system and badass TV and other amenities, since she had lived there for so many years—and Sapphire now having her own home, I moved into Justice’s room. There wasn’t much to move, but I had gained a surprising amount of clothes and biker boots. Every item I grabbed from a drawer or closet had me thinking of Sapphire. I hadn’t been to one store, yet here I was with plenty. I know she didn’t pay for it, but I never asked. She took good care of me.

Hanging a shirt in Justice’s closet, I teased, “I hope you’re prepared to fill big shoes. I think Saph ironed my underwear.”

Justice opened a drawer and arm-swiped my underwear sitting on her dresser. After stabbing her hand in there to squash all the items tight, her hip shut the door. “Those days are over.”

“So, polishing my boots is not up for discussion?”

“Only if you want me to key your bike.” Not bothering to remove her biker boots, she plopped down on her bed, grabbing her remote. “I hope you like the Golden Girls.”

“The who?” I plopped down on the bed next to her, smirking, reaching for the item that belongs to men.

Clearly not getting the memo, Justice yanked the remote from my reach. “Badass bitches. That’s who.”

Then a song about thanking someone for being their friend started echoing through her surround sound. Afraid, I peered around. “I’m moving the fuck out.”

“I sleep naked.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

A scream in the middle of the night had Justice and I jolting up in bed. We both leaped, grabbing our guns. I tossed her one of my t-shirts and slipped on boxers. She pulled it over her head while running into the hallway. No one had turned on the light, for security reasons, but there was just enough of a nightlight glow from the Barn so that we could all see familiar faces.

When another scream bellowed, we all ran toward the pitiful sound.

In Saint’s room, we found him on the floor, holding Jamie, who seemed to be lost in a night terror, or maybe recovering from one. The gut-wrenching sight had us all lowering our guns. Jamie, drenched in sweat, was wearing a little tank top and pink boxers. Up to this point, I had only seen her in long sleeves and pants, as many of us had. So, seeing her damaged skin—scars on her legs and arms—we didn’t even bother to ask if she was okay. The truth was there for us all to see.

Saint’s eyes were riddled with tears, but that strong motherfucker, he just kept rocking her. Holding her. Loving her. Begging her to open her eyes and see that she was safe.

Instantly, I felt drawn to this kindred spirit. Keeping my distance, to not scare her further, I sat on his bedroom floor. “We’re here, Jamie. We’re here.”

She was sobbing, clinging to the front of Saint’s t-shirt. “Make them stop!”

Justice came to sit next to me. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

I was hoping that was true, whoever ‘they’ were. Was it the brothers Saint spoke of once?