“You would like that… wouldn’t you?”
“It can’t come soon enough.”
“Agreed. It’ll be glorious… to feel the arms of God surrounding me… as He welcomes me into His Kingdom… You will never feel that.”
Rev leaned over the bed and growled, “Neither will you.”
He stepped back, bumping into Reilly. He grabbed her arm to keep from knocking her over and tugged her behind him as he took long strides from the room.
He didn’t go to the kitchen to say goodbye, instead he went directly to the front door, slamming it behind them. He didn’t stop until they reached his Bronco. He went around to the passenger side, yanked open the door and helped Reilly into the seat before slamming that door shut, too.
As he was rounding the front of his Ford, he heard, “Michael!” shouted from the house.
He paused with one hand on the driver’s door handle and glanced back over his shoulder.
Matthew stood on the porch.
Rev couldn’t take much more today. He was already teetering on the edge of a cliff. It wouldn’t take but a small breeze to knock him over.
And if he began to fall, he was taking everyone inside that house with him.
“We’ll be in the area. You got my number now. Text me if you think he’s about to take his last fuckin’ breath. Wanna witness it.”
“But—”
“Make sure to text me, Matthew!” he shouted. “You don’t, you’ll regret it.”
He flung his door open, got in and slammed it shut. He couldn’t get the fuck off that property fast enough.
Stones shot from the tires as Rev gunned the Ford in reverse and backed onto the road.
“Rev—”
“No.” He shoved the shifter into first gear, the tires chirping as the Bronco surged forward.
“Rev,” she tried again.
“Ain’t talkin’ about it right now.”
Her chest had been tight the whole time she listened to the exchange, not only with his mother but his father, as well.
She’d been right. Stepping into that house was like stepping into a whole other world or dimension. Or something.
It was freakishly weird. And nothing what she’d expected.
Rev clearly did not fit in that household. Neither did Saylor. That family was just as messed up as the Shirleys were. And she didn’t think that was possible. She had been wrong.
But, holy hell, how was Rev not fucked up? How did he not turn out to be some sort of serial killer? She didn’t even know most of what he and his sister dealt with but the little she heard so far…
No wonder Saylor acted out and ended up in a juvenile detention center for all of her teen years.
To escape that house. To escape that life.
To escape whatever her father did to her, most of which Reilly could only assume without knowing all the details.
Truthfully, she didn’t want to know the details. She could only imagine what they were and that was bad enough.
Reilly glanced around as he sped down the curvy country road and into town. She had to hang onto the dash and the door to keep from being tossed around, even though she wore her seatbelt. When they approached a strip mall, the knobby four-by-four tires squealed like a poked pig as he turned sharply into the parking lot.
After pulling the Bronco into an empty spot in front of Fine Wine & Good Spirits, he threw the shifter into neutral, jammed on the parking brake, left the engine running, climbed out of the truck and growled, “Stay here,” before slamming the door shut.
Well, then.
Without his cut, he looked like every other Joe Citizen entering the state-run liquor store. Every other citizen who was pierced and tatted up, at least.
Maybe he was a bit hotter than most of the men walking through the parking lot.
All right, a lot hotter. Actually blistering.
Holy shit, his ass in Levi’s was just…
Wrong time, Reilly. The man is in the middle of a crisis and ogling his ass is not appropriate right now. Nor is drooling.
She swiped a hand over her mouth and sighed.
Not even five minutes later, his long legs were eating up the pavement between him and his truck. He jerked the driver’s door open and shoved the bag at her as he climbed in.
She glanced inside it and saw three bottles of Jack Daniels.
Three bottles of Jack.
“Um…Three?”
“They were on sale.”
She pulled the receipt from the bag. No, they weren’t. She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “If you’re going to drink this much booze, food would be a really good idea, too. Don’t you think?”
The problem was, he wasn’t thinking. Right now he wanted to drown out his anger and memories and whatever else he was dealing with.
Three bottles of whiskey would certainly do that. Three bottles might also put him into a damn coma.
“Food, Rev. And I’m hungry, anyway,” she lied. She still was kind of sick to her stomach after dealing with the Stephen King house and family.
He scanned the strip mall, then once again growled, “Stay here.” He repeated the whole mouth-watering performance over again, but instead of going in the liquor store, he disappeared into a pizza shop two doors down.
Of course, Reilly had a hard time not watching his ass the whole time. Because not watching just wasn’t humanly possible.
She sighed at her weakness and noticed she hadn’t been the only one staring at it. The woman standing by her car three spots closer to the strip of stores had also been appreciating everything that was Rev.
The stunning eyes, the short spiky hair, the neatly trimmed beard, the badass tattoos and piercings, the denim-clad perfect ass and those damn, powerful thighs that Reilly had seen at work every time he pumped into a sweet butt on the farm out in front of anybody and everybody.
The man had no shame, but then none of them did. That was just the way the guys were. They liked sex and didn’t care who watched them have it.
Sometimes they didn’t care who they had it with, either.
Sometimes they didn’t care that they were also getting sloppy seconds.
Or thirds.
Yuck.
If she was smart, she’d find a nice guy to be—what the guys called— her regular, who didn’t wear a cut and the act of fucking him wouldn’t cause an issue with her sister or anyone else. Also, a guy she hadn’t watched have sex with a bunch of other women. Not just fucking, but getting head and giving it, too. The “giving it” part being cunnilingus and not sucking another man’s cock.
Though, that might be kind of hot…
No. She didn’t think any of the Fury members were into that and if they were, they certainly weren’t open about it.
The guys didn’t mind having sex together as long as they had a female as a buffer between them. No sword play allowed.
She might have to use two of the guys “accidentally” discovering each other as one of her future fantasies while using her Rabbit.
Yes, she would.
She eyed the woman still standing at the rear of her minivan, loading her groceries into the back with a slowness that reminded Reilly of a vibrator with dying batteries. As in, the woman was too busy keeping her eyes on the door to the pizza shop than worrying about her Rocky Road melting in the warm mid-day, mid-April temperatures.