Devil's Love by Kim Jones

Author:Kim Jones [Jones, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780991019878
Published: 2016-11-12T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Maddie

“I’m fine,” I say for the millionth time as I’m dropped off at my car. But just to be sure, Chuck phones Luke and gets the okay, only after he’s convinced by my voice that I’m not drunk. Finally, I’m released from the MC hold and free to drive myself home.

I stop at a drive-thru and order more than I could possibly eat. To top it off, I get a chocolate milkshake that I’m sure contains more calories than any human should consume in a day.

By the time I make it home, the milkshake is empty, all my fries are gone and that’s only the beginning of my despair. In my driveway sits a Harley that I know all too well—Elvira. “Here we go,” I mutter to myself, opening my door and clambering out. Fucking girdle was impairing my motor skills.

“You making house calls now?” I ask when I walk in to find him sitting at my counter. I really shouldn’t be a smart-ass, but my mood has suddenly nosedived. Not giving two shits what he sees, I pull off my shoes, my shirt and my jeans leaving a trail of clothes down the hall.

Slamming my bedroom door, I start working on removing the stomach sucking contraption from my waist. Great. Now I can eat more. Just what the hell I need. I grab a shirt from my dresser, slip a pair of pajama shorts on and remain panty free in an attempt to let my vagina breathe. Poor girl was not only dick deprived, but now I was suffocating her too. Much like how I feel when I see Marty still in my kitchen.

He’s done nothing wrong. I can’t blame him for being smart—or beating the truth out of a man. I predicted it would happen. Just not this soon.

Because I’m guilty and I know I’m on the chopping block, I immediately become defensive. Anger is my best weapon right now, and I use it in full force against him.

“Go ahead, Marty. Ask me the question.” I start in as soon as we lock gazes. To force down the feeling of regret, I think horrible thoughts. I want to make him mad. I want him to be angry with me. Maybe I’ll piss him off enough that he’ll just abandon me completely—again.

Shit. Low blow, Maddie. Even as I think it, I know it’s unfair. I’m angry at myself, and I’m taking it out on him.

“You okay, Maddie? What did you do, Maddie? Are you hurt, Maddie?” I use a different impersonation with every question. Red, Dallas, Luke … They’ve been asking me the same questions for years. No sense in breaking tradition now.

I keep myself busy around the kitchen—throwing things that don’t deserve to be thrown as I vent and avoid eye contact with him. I know he’s watching me from the barstool, probably on the verge of calling in reinforcements to help him deal with my new level of crazy. I don’t give a shit. He can call them all.

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