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Nelle felt her heart shivering. She didn’t know how to explain her life to Slade. She didn’t know if she trusted Slade or these bikers.
“That’s what I thought,” Slade said.
He slammed the door. Nelle swallowed hard.
“Right now, sweetheart, your problems are causing problems for me. For my club. Shootings. Dead women. It all somehow reflects back to us. I’m not a fan of it, but we’ve earned it. It also means we fix it. You could be in a police station right now. Sipping shitty tasting coffee, answering questions.”
“Yeah, because this place is luxury,” Nelle blurted out.
Slade stomped toward her like a hungry giant ready for his next meal. She stepped back a few times, hit the edge of the bed and sat right down. Now staring up at the outlaw.
Oh, fuck,Nelle thought.
“You may not realize how this works, sweetheart,” Slade said in a low, deep voice. “Monte should be ten inches deep in you right now. I called him off and he rightfully wanted to fight me for you. Cyrus stepped in. The fucking President of this club. You may not feel like you owe anyone a thing, but I promise you, Nelle, you owe a lot… a fucking lot…”
Slade inched even closer. Nelle knew his cock—even tucked away in his jeans—wasright there.Almost touching her face.
Is that what I’m supposed to do now? Suck his cock or something? Is that the price of admission for this insane outlaw world?
“I’ll get us a drink, sweetheart,” Slade said. “Then we’ll talk.”
Slade touched under Nelle’s chin with his pointer and middle fingers stuck together. He felt his cock pulsing, wanting her.
Nelle felt a comfortable yet guilty-ridden warmth between her legs. She told herself she needed to be crying over the death of Calista.And the death of Thalia.
Slade with hisI’m going to fuck youeyes distracted Nelle. That was okay. She needed the distraction.
And maybe she needed to be fucked too.
Slade came back to the room with a bottle of whiskey. Nelle sat on the edge of the bed.
“You can get comfortable, sweetheart,” Slade said.
“I’m not sure that’s possible right now,” she replied. “My sisters are dead, Slade. Both of them. My two sisters. I’m the big sister. I’m supposed to protect them. I didn’t do that.”
Slade handed her the whiskey bottle. He touched under her chin again. Nelle hated to admit how sexy this move was to her.And what it did to her. Feeling grief and being turned on at the same time felt wrong in its own way.
“Tell me who you are, Nelle,” Slade said.
“I’m nobody. That’s the truth. Same for my sisters. We just minded our own business. Don’t believe me? I can show you where I live. Above an antique store. You believe that, Slade? That’s what I do. I sell antiques. For some grumpy old man who refuses to sell anything.”
“So how does that work?” Slade asked.
Nelle helped herself to a large gulp of the fire-tasting whiskey. It made her throat feel as though she swallowed glass. She never drank like this. Ever. That meant each second that went by, it hit her head harder and faster.
“I make videos online,” Nelle said. She quickly pointed up at Slade. “Notthosekind of videos, you fucking sicko.”
“Calling me a fucking sicko? Your mind went in the gutter there, sweetheart. Not mine.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t think it.”
“What? Picturing you naked with your legs spread? Your fingers digging deep into your precious cunt?”
Nelle’s face burned hot. She caught herself taking deep breaths. She thought about Slade telling the Chief of Police what to do. And the guy listened to him! That was… power…
“I make videos about the antiques. And based on views and ads and all that stuff, the videos make money. That’s how I keep the old man in business. That’s what I do, Slade. Hidden from the world. So, yeah, nothing to ask me about.”
The whiskey told Nelle she had the perfect story. And she told it perfectly too. She felt so suddenly confident, she stood up from the bed and purposely bumped her body against Slade’s.
