Free Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5) by Janine Infante Bosco Page B

looked ahead to see the red traffic light in front of us, realizing that was why he stopped and sighed in relief, reclaiming my bravado.
    “Used to be able buy you ice cream and you would shut up for a while,” he grunted, taking the shake from my hand. “What happened to the little Lacey Parrish you could bribe with ice cream and candy?” He muttered as he brought the straw to his lips and took a gulp.
    I grinned widely, watching his throat as he swallowed before he shoved the cup back at me.
    “She grew up,” I said, taking back the shake.
    “Hardly,” he commented, turning his eyes back to the road. I ignored that comment and relished in the slightest quirk of his lips.
    Leather and Lace.
    That was us.
    I felt someone’s hands on my shoulders, shaking me as a familiar voice called my name, interrupting my dream and disrupting my sleep. My eyes fluttered open and locked with the same hazel eyes that starred in my dream.
    “Get up,” he demanded, pulling my arms, forcing me to sit up.
    “What?” I asked groggily, lifting my hands to my head that felt as if it was about to explode. “You came back…”
    “Lace, get up and get dressed,” he ordered. “Now!”
    I stared up at him as bits and pieces of my memory flashed before me. I remembered wishing he wouldn’t show up but knowing it was inevitable. I remembered battling with my maker for control. I remembered the thoughts that filled my head and most of all I remember Blackie. I remembered him holding me. He didn’t turn me away and when I asked him to dance with me, he did. He left but I could tell he didn’t want to, that, it pained him to walk away. 
    I was exhausted from the war within my head and succumbed to sleep easily, falling into a sweet dream of when things changed for us. Well, for me anyway. I like to think after that car ride to Riker’s Blackie began to see me as more than just Jack’s nuisance of a daughter. Still, it wasn’t until last night when I felt he really saw me, the woman not the girl, the damaged soul and not the happy-go-lucky person I portray myself as to the world.
    “Lace, I need you to listen. There’s not a lot of time so you need to snap the fuck out of it and throw some clothes on,” he ordered, glancing around the room, picking up a pair of my mother’s sweats folded in the laundry basket at the foot of her bed. “Here, put these on,” he ordered.
    “What’s going on?” I questioned as I threw my legs over the bed and studied the hard lines of his face and for the first time I noticed the gun he was holding. I stared at the gun for a moment before lifting my eyes to his.
    “Did something happen? Blackie you need to tell me! Is it my father? Did he ever show up after yesterday?” I rambled, hurrying to my feet despite the headache I was experiencing. I still hadn’t heard from my father, for all I know he succeeded in joining Jack Jr. on the other side. I felt the fresh tears sting my eyes, and I lurched for Blackie, grabbing his cut with my hands.
    “Answer me goddamn it! Is he okay?” I heard my gasp immediately follow the question as he dropped his free hand to my hip, his fingers gripping me through the thin fabric of the t-shirt I was wearing. How was it that just a simple touch of his hand provoked feelings throughout my entire body? “Oh God,” I said, glancing down at the gun he held in his other hand. “He found out. He knows about us. Is that it? That’s why you came back,” I reached up, covering my mouth with the palm of my hand as nausea washed over me.
    “For fuck’s sake,” he growled, lifting his shirt and tucking the gun into his jeans, freeing his other hand. He took my face in his hands and bent down so our eyes were level.
    “Get yourself together,” he demanded.
    “Blackie, I don’t care— “      
    “He don’t know shit,” he seethed. “Club is on lockdown which means your sweet ass needs to get to the clubhouse. Now, pull yourself together Lace, and let me