Seize Me
Page 10
“Angel, c’mere baby.”
I wish he would stop using that voice on me. It’s not fair. When I reach him, he picks me up bridal style. As we walk back towards the building, he crouches down and grabs my bag. He passes everyone when we’re back inside without saying a word to them and takes me up the stairs to his apartment.
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“I can spare a few minutes,” he grumbles. “We need to get this blood off you.”
I can tell he actually doesn’t have the time, but for some reason, the likeable Braxxon is back. I’m going to enjoy him while I can because there is no way I’m coming back to this hell. I want to kick and throw things like a child because for the first time, I have this incredible chemistry and it has to be with someone like Braxxon. Someone who isn’t beneficial for me. Someone whose touch is more than what I felt with Allen. I seriously need to get far away, like abyss far.
“You can’t leave right now; the club is going under lockdown,” he answers as if he were reading my unspoken rant. Of course, it is. He sits me down on the toilet and reaches over to turn the shower on. He shifts back to me and lifts the shirt up.
“Prez.” Someone knocks on the door.
“Dammit.” He looks at me with something like regret in his eyes. “I gotta go. Take a shower and get some rest.”
And just like that, he’s gone yet again. The water makes me sick to my stomach as it washes my best friend’s blood off me. I would much rather take a bath right now, but I’m in a bachelor clubhouse apartment where the guys bring women back to screw. There is no welcome mat laid out for me here or for any other women for that matter. I grab a towel hanging next to the shower when I finish washing. I quickly dry my hair with it and toss it to the floor. I am not in the mood to be a particularly neat person. I climb into his bed and lay there staring at the ceiling.
I deserve so much more than this kind of life. I’ve been here; I’ve done all this before. This isn’t the place for someone trying to start new. These guys are criminals, and they screw girls as if they can’t get enough. I huff and wrap myself tightly in the sheet. These next few days can’t go by fast enough. So many things have gone wrong, not to mention Rich is going to be furious when he finds out Lana took a bullet. Maybe I need to move again. I wonder if I can get Lana to go with me. I don’t think I could ever leave her. A tear escapes my eye as my thoughts run rapid through my mind. Why does Braxxon have to be from this kind of world? Why the hell this damn connection? I must’ve been some horrible person in a past life. There is no other explanation.
Everything starts frustrating me. No wonder I’m a nut job. My father certainly did a number on me. My thoughts are even crazy and make no sense.
This stupid world is so unpretty.
I wake to Pyro shaking my leg. I groan and stretch, not realizing my entire front is exposed. He smirks at me, and I kick at him.
“Hazel’s awake and asking for ya,” he says and stands straight back up.
“Thank you; I’ll be down in just a second.”
He nods and leaves, allowing me to get dressed.
I dig through my bag and start cursing myself repeatedly for bringing slut clothes to wear, thinking Lana and I would be casino hopping this weekend. I’m gonna look just like the rest of these muffler bunnies that hang out in this shit hole. At least I wore tennis shoes on the way here. I don’t wanna be walking around in this club with nine-inch heels on. I grab my little black strapless dress and slip my feet in my white converse. I don’t bother with makeup because I’m stuck here and my best friend has been frigging shot.
Edging slowly down the stairs, I hear tons of voices. This is lovely. I try pulling my dress up more, but it’s no use. Right now I’m wishing what I wore yesterday didn’t stink with sweat. Just because I dance, and I’m naked most of my nights doesn’t mean I like bitty bopping around in nothing when I’m off work. Every woman deserves to dress up for dinner, girls nights out and even casino prowling, but I’ll be damned if I wanna look like a free meal for these guys.
I find Lana sitting at the bar with a sling on. Looks like the good doctor on their payroll did an excellent job because she’s laughing at something one of the prospects is whispering to her.
“Hey slut, you scared me this morning,” I mumble.
Her stoned eyes move to mine. I know she feels guilty for getting shot, but it wasn’t her fault. Lana is the only one who knows everything, and I mean every single detail of my past life.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers rubbing my arm with her uninjured hand.
“It’s not your fault. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been shot,” she murmurs. “But I’m so high I could probably fly like a kite.”
“Good meds?”
“Indeed,” she giggles.
“I let it slip… I told them who I was. I was just so angry,” I whisper.
Lana whispers something quietly to the prospect. He leaves us, opening up a bar stool and I take a seat.
“Your family is on the other side of the United States babe; it’ll be okay, and if not, I’ll run with you.”
I’m choked up with emotions because I know she would run with me. She was orphaned when she was just seventeen years old. She received a trust fund when she turned twenty-one. She dances only because she loves to dance like I do. I don’t know why I would doubt myself about asking her if she would leave with me. She’s my other half.
I wish he would stop using that voice on me. It’s not fair. When I reach him, he picks me up bridal style. As we walk back towards the building, he crouches down and grabs my bag. He passes everyone when we’re back inside without saying a word to them and takes me up the stairs to his apartment.
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“I can spare a few minutes,” he grumbles. “We need to get this blood off you.”
I can tell he actually doesn’t have the time, but for some reason, the likeable Braxxon is back. I’m going to enjoy him while I can because there is no way I’m coming back to this hell. I want to kick and throw things like a child because for the first time, I have this incredible chemistry and it has to be with someone like Braxxon. Someone who isn’t beneficial for me. Someone whose touch is more than what I felt with Allen. I seriously need to get far away, like abyss far.
“You can’t leave right now; the club is going under lockdown,” he answers as if he were reading my unspoken rant. Of course, it is. He sits me down on the toilet and reaches over to turn the shower on. He shifts back to me and lifts the shirt up.
“Prez.” Someone knocks on the door.
“Dammit.” He looks at me with something like regret in his eyes. “I gotta go. Take a shower and get some rest.”
And just like that, he’s gone yet again. The water makes me sick to my stomach as it washes my best friend’s blood off me. I would much rather take a bath right now, but I’m in a bachelor clubhouse apartment where the guys bring women back to screw. There is no welcome mat laid out for me here or for any other women for that matter. I grab a towel hanging next to the shower when I finish washing. I quickly dry my hair with it and toss it to the floor. I am not in the mood to be a particularly neat person. I climb into his bed and lay there staring at the ceiling.
I deserve so much more than this kind of life. I’ve been here; I’ve done all this before. This isn’t the place for someone trying to start new. These guys are criminals, and they screw girls as if they can’t get enough. I huff and wrap myself tightly in the sheet. These next few days can’t go by fast enough. So many things have gone wrong, not to mention Rich is going to be furious when he finds out Lana took a bullet. Maybe I need to move again. I wonder if I can get Lana to go with me. I don’t think I could ever leave her. A tear escapes my eye as my thoughts run rapid through my mind. Why does Braxxon have to be from this kind of world? Why the hell this damn connection? I must’ve been some horrible person in a past life. There is no other explanation.
Everything starts frustrating me. No wonder I’m a nut job. My father certainly did a number on me. My thoughts are even crazy and make no sense.
This stupid world is so unpretty.
I wake to Pyro shaking my leg. I groan and stretch, not realizing my entire front is exposed. He smirks at me, and I kick at him.
“Hazel’s awake and asking for ya,” he says and stands straight back up.
“Thank you; I’ll be down in just a second.”
He nods and leaves, allowing me to get dressed.
I dig through my bag and start cursing myself repeatedly for bringing slut clothes to wear, thinking Lana and I would be casino hopping this weekend. I’m gonna look just like the rest of these muffler bunnies that hang out in this shit hole. At least I wore tennis shoes on the way here. I don’t wanna be walking around in this club with nine-inch heels on. I grab my little black strapless dress and slip my feet in my white converse. I don’t bother with makeup because I’m stuck here and my best friend has been frigging shot.
Edging slowly down the stairs, I hear tons of voices. This is lovely. I try pulling my dress up more, but it’s no use. Right now I’m wishing what I wore yesterday didn’t stink with sweat. Just because I dance, and I’m naked most of my nights doesn’t mean I like bitty bopping around in nothing when I’m off work. Every woman deserves to dress up for dinner, girls nights out and even casino prowling, but I’ll be damned if I wanna look like a free meal for these guys.
I find Lana sitting at the bar with a sling on. Looks like the good doctor on their payroll did an excellent job because she’s laughing at something one of the prospects is whispering to her.
“Hey slut, you scared me this morning,” I mumble.
Her stoned eyes move to mine. I know she feels guilty for getting shot, but it wasn’t her fault. Lana is the only one who knows everything, and I mean every single detail of my past life.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers rubbing my arm with her uninjured hand.
“It’s not your fault. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been shot,” she murmurs. “But I’m so high I could probably fly like a kite.”
“Good meds?”
“Indeed,” she giggles.
“I let it slip… I told them who I was. I was just so angry,” I whisper.
Lana whispers something quietly to the prospect. He leaves us, opening up a bar stool and I take a seat.
“Your family is on the other side of the United States babe; it’ll be okay, and if not, I’ll run with you.”
I’m choked up with emotions because I know she would run with me. She was orphaned when she was just seventeen years old. She received a trust fund when she turned twenty-one. She dances only because she loves to dance like I do. I don’t know why I would doubt myself about asking her if she would leave with me. She’s my other half.
