Page 85 of Ricochet
Drowning.
Drowning.
Drowning.
Another fucker I wanted to trust, yet couldn’t. Another asshole who left me when I needed him. The shithead who pretended I didn’t exist when I asked for his help.
He can fuck off too, along with all the deities, Nightingales and my own family.
I stepped next to Kieran, my blood fucking boiling at the mere sight of him. There he was, a masked expression on his face, his eyes raking over my body. Another fucking asshole who only saw that, my body.
He took a step closer, and another, and another, until he stood face-to-face with Kieran, that cold, bored look pissing me off. He lazily looked at the three of them before settling back on me, moving from the initial bane of my existence toward the place where I stood.
“Hello, Persephone. We meet again.”
Four Years Ago
Why wasI standing in front of a store I didn’t know, in a town I’ve never been to, freezing my ass off?
Well, my beautiful friend thought it would be a good idea to go somewhere that nobody knew who we were to buy a fucking pregnancy test. It wasn’t as if I didn’t tell her already, I would go and get it myself and nobody would say a word. My father wouldn’t care even if he knew, and Theo was too busy being an uptight prick to care if somebody knocked me up or not.
But nooo, oh no, she had to have her way and pull my ass here at the ass crack of dawn so that we could “catch the sunrise” and “go on a bonding road trip”.
The only type of bonding I wanted to do for the last couple of days was the one where I stitched Kieran’s mouth to Cynthia’s pussy, so that they could be bonded for fucking forever.
I wasn’t sure if I was sad, angry, heartbroken or murderous anymore. Probably all of those, but one feeling remained the strongest.
Fucking murder.
To say that I was feeling stabby lately would be an understatement of the century. Just yesterday Ava had to talk me out of going to Ventus City and having a “talk” with Kieran. Both her and I knew it would’ve ended up bloody.
And for fuck’s sake, how long does it take her to buy a pregnancy test. She’s been inside the store for at least half an hour, and the circulation in my fingers stopped working about fifteen minutes ago. Did I mention I didn’t wear appropriate clothing for this time of year?
I was contemplating dragging her out, when the black motorcycle pulled up across the street, right in front of the store. Was I more interested in a man riding a bike than the bike itself? Maybe. Okay, most probably, but those thighs straddling the black machine had me thinking about a thousand ways in which he could be using them, and suddenly the ice-cold water I’ve been gulping down wasn’t cold enough. The December air wasn’t that cold anymore, and sweat settled at the back of my neck, regardless of the wind slapping me from both sides.
The town was overflowing with tourists this time of the year, it being the festive season and all, but even the annoying screams coming from a group of kids nearby couldn’t divert my attention from the scene in front of me.
I could almost feel the rumble of that bike between my thighs; the way those vibrations would go through my body, the adrenaline I would no doubt feel… I was blatantly staring at the man as he turned off the ignition, and sat there for a second, staring at the store in front of him. He wore a leather jacket with some sort of a logo on the back, and I could only assume that he belonged to one of the MCs from the area. His face was hidden beneath the black helmet, and even from across the street, I could feel the energy emanating from him.
Danger.
Power.
Both of those things pulled at my insides, and I had the sudden urge to cross the street and talk to him. I wanted to, no, Ineededto know him. The mere sight of this man calmed the storm raging in my head, and the only thought I had was seeing him, meeting him, and feeling that motorcycle between my thighs.
Well, a motorcycle and other things.
Kieran was just a back thought in my mind, and my sole focus was on this man.
My head snapped to the right side at the same rumbling sound, and I saw two more bikers approaching him. Surprisingly, seeing them did nothing to me. I admired their bikes, because God knew I wanted to have one myself, but there was no other reaction.
My eyes kept traveling to the imposing figure who decided to take permanent residency in my head. As soon as the newcomers parked behind him, they got off their bikes and started removing their helmets, and dear Jesus, Mother, Mary and Joseph.
If anyone ever asked me how I imagined the Princes of Hell looked like, well, voila. I’d point them in their direction.
All three of them wore identical jackets, all three of them dressed in all black. The blond man had his hair pulled into a bun, and even from this distance, I could see the array of tattoos gracing his face. The second one stood a couple of inches shorter than him, smiling at whatever the first one said.
When I finally looked back at the man that pulled my attention, our gazes clashed and I realized he’s been watching me this whole time, while I’ve been too busy ogling the other two.
