There’s not enough therapy in the world to reverse the severe damage that’s been done to him by this point in his life. He had a horrific childhood that was so bad that the club was a better option than his home or the shitty streets of Halo.
“I said a lot of things as a kid. Stop treating it like it’s gospel,” I point out.
“You were smarter as a kid than you are now, because now you’re trying too fucking hard to fit in with the normal people who have normal problems,” he sleepily murmurs.
“I know, right?” I ask, even as my own eyelids get heavier.
His arms tighten around me, and he kisses the top of my head so affectionately that I almost question if I dreamed it.
“It’s okay to be fucked up, so long as we understand our damage,” I murmur as it all gets darker and darker and…
Chapter 20
RUSH
I’m going to start shooting people if one more person tries to break through my door while Kara is sleeping soundly against me. I have her right where I fucking want her, and they’re trying to mess it all up.
“Rush, I just want to talk,” Sledge says from the other side of the door, his voice muffled by all the things I’ve added to block the door.
Kara stirs, her arms tightening around my middle, as her leg slides up higher on my waist so that she can move in closer.
Some light bickering erupts, everyone trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Drex is the crazy motherfucker who took in a good girl, who prostituted herself out during a desperate financial crisis her family was suffering. And he enjoyed every fucking second of it until he somehow managed to make her think she was in love.
Sledge fucked a manipulative bitch, who led him around on a metaphorical leash, and he kissed her ass until he killed her for being a manipulative bitch.
Axle is dating a straight-up crazy ass mafia chick because no other woman can tackle the gruesome amount of scars that are coupled with his non-existent personality, and he’s the most normal of the bunch.
Don’t even get me started on just how fucked up Snake’s shit must be for him to have ever loved a homicidal lunatic like Sarah/AJ.
Kara gives a little sigh before she nuzzles my neck, unconsciously moving closer to me the louder the bickering outside the door gets.
Finally, they abandon their pointless endeavor, and I lower the gun before reaching behind me and tucking it back into the hidden compartment on my piece-of-shit headboard.
I grab a handful of her ass to use as leverage to drag her practically on top of me, and she comes willingly, even in her sleep.
I glare at the door when a shadow passes under the crack, but the wise person keeps on moving.
People are fucking ridiculous.
They’re the reason I’m having to resort to such extreme measures. All they had to do was leave me be.
I kiss the top of her head again as my eyes finally get heavy. I have little alarms set to go off just in case the door moves even an inch. It makes it easier to let my guard down.
Chapter 21
KARA
I wake up when Rush mutters something in his sleep that has me lifting my gaze to his peaceful expression. A small smile tugs at one corner of my mouth when his arms tighten around me.
I’ve lost my mind if I’m even a little bit flattered by his crazy antics. It’s weirdly romantic, though, because he wanted to sleep. That’s it.
I knew he was insecure back then, but I had no idea how rough it was now that he’s a slightly terrifying adult version of himself.
Now that I know he’s apparently missed me in some very disturbing capacity, at least I understand the damage I’m working with.
He kisses my head in his sleep, and my heart does weird things for the broken guy under me.
Just as I start to kiss him to wake him up and see how to get through to him, using my body in any way necessary, something slams into the door.
Loud alarms wail, and Rush bolts to his feet with a gun in his hand so fast that I can’t register where the hell it magically came from.
“Don’t shoot them,” I hiss as I tug at his arm.
He grabs me and jerks me to him, tucking me against his back.
“Pete’s sake, none of them are going to hurt me or take me away, if that’s why you’re pointing a gun,” I assure him, but he smirks as he keeps the gun pointed at the door.
“Whoever crosses the threshold first will end up with a bullet in their kneecaps. The second one will end up with a bullet in their feet and hands. The third will end up fucking dead most likely, because I’ll be really pissed about everyone trying to control a situation that doesn’t need controlling,” he warns them.