Chapter Eight

Racing like that again has my adrenaline pumping. The speed, the crowd… Psycho. It's the first time we've gone up against each other head-on—I made it up to the top ranks before he started the season, which meant until he could call me out for my spot there was no need.

The fucker almost beat me though, because of my own stupidity. For one brief second, I faltered. My concentration was on how good he looked in his leathers and the demonic face artwork on his helmet instead of my acceleration out of the turn. I can pinpoint the exact moment I fucked up. I remembered what it was like riding with him and his club, like a family instead of the shitfest I've been dealing with the last few years. Then his front tire pushed ahead of me and I thought it was all over. It was all I could do to keep his pace to the finish line. I may have got a win, but barely, and I'm going to need to work on my concentration when he no doubt calls me out next time.

His race night baby is far superior to mine, and if I'm honest, I'm surprised I won. My bike needs a lot of work, even though it's the best one the Rebels owned. As their star racer, I was given it to ride—strictly for the races only, because it was too nice for someone like me to keep. I don't have the cash for the upgrades though, but with a little tweaking, I may be able to give myself some extra speed in case I fuck up coming out of a turn next time.

All that aside… I'm hoping that my little parting gift was enough of a hint for Aleko. I don't want to reveal myself to everyone because that would defeat the point of me being "dead". Luckily, there were no Rebels there tonight—the only ones who know Cain's real identity—so they couldn't rat me out. I need to stay dead for as long as possible so Mom keeps receiving her care, and because I don't need to be investigated for faking my own death. That comes with a whole world of problems I don't want to deal with.

Being associated with the Toxic Rebels in Stonebrook Falls has its advantages, though, which is the only way I was able to get hold of fake documents for myself. I need said documents to take Mom to the doctor in New York once I win the street race money after the next meet-up.

Coming so close to losing today should piss me the fuck off, but all it does is make me stupidly proud of Aleko. If I do lose to him in the last race of the season, the second place earnings would mean I'd only have enough to send Mom to New York, which is better than nothing at all. I'm looking at the silver linings here, and one of those is an angry biker with the nickname Psycho.

In what some may call a normal world, I should be having some kind of feelings about torturing my brother for two months before accidentally killing him. I should still be the relatively meek girl I was when Isaac, Goblin, and Brick raped and beat me as my brother—half-brother if what he said is true—filmed the whole thing on his phone. I should probably be rocking myself to sleep in a dark corner, mad at the world and the hand I've been dealt.

But this isn't a normal world. And right now, my only focus is trying to make this crazy-ass motherfucker chasing my tail forgive me.

Slowing down on the highway, I allow Aleko to catch up so we're side-by-side, and just as he moves close enough to touch me, I drop a gear and twist the throttle. I'm ahead again, taking a sharp turn off in the direction of the beach.

We ride for what feels like mere minutes, when it's actually been almost an hour of fucking around playing catch-me-if-you-can. My entire body is thrumming with adrenaline and excitement as I slow down, pulling up by the beach area Aleko brought me to before I pretended to kill my brother and died. The vibrations from my motorcycle between my legs definitely have something to do with how I'm feeling, but mostly, it's him.

Aleko.

My own personal Psycho. One who literally went to war for me on more than one occasion, only for me to let him down.

Sighing, I watch him pull up his bike beside mine, leisurely killing the engine, knocking his kickstand in place, and lifting his left leg to climb off.

No secrets, no lies.I did both of those things.

I'm still straddling my motorcycle when Aleko pulls off his helmet, carefully placing it on his Philia before turning to glare in my direction. I almost melt into a puddle as he raises that goddamn eyebrow at me and smirks.

Holy shit, that's hot.

"Think you can run from me again, Cherry?" He shakes his head, tutting in the sexiest way anyone has ever tutted in the existence of mankind, and takes the two short steps toward me. His thighs are practically straddling my knee at this point and my clit is pulsing, demanding attention. "There are no cameras or guards to keep you safe now…" Leaning even closer still, he whisper-growls, "There's only me."

In the smoothest action, Aleko lifts his hands to unclip my helmet before sliding it off my head and placing it right behind me.

Am I panting? I feel like I'm panting, and he hasn't touched me yet. Every part of him that is close to me is millimeters away from making contact and the heat radiating from him is electric, but there's been no actual touching.

Does this mean he's open to the idea of not completely hating me, or that he's really, really angry with me? He said he couldn't forgive secrets and lies…

I stare into his gray-blue eyes, searching for answers that are impossible to find and, like before, in jail, his gaze is dancing across every inch of me, as if checking that I'm real. There's vulnerability and pain there that makes me want to reach out and soothe him, but it's masked by the constant smirk and raised brow. It's as though he's not sure which direction this conversation is going to go so I take a deep breath, ready to apologize over and over again…

And just as I'm about to exhale, the devil on my shoulder has another thought. A more defiant one. There will be time to explain why I did what I did. For right now, my body is alight with a fire that I never thought possible for this man, and I know he feels it too. His breaths are as ragged as mine.

"You know…" My voice sounds breathier than I intended, but I'm going with it, matching his smirk with one of my own as his second brow rises to match the first. I almost think I'm managing the one brow thing myself for a brief second until his smirk turns into more of a trying not to laugh thing. "Maybe I will run again. Think you can catch me, Psycho?"

Without giving him a second to process my words fully, I slide my leg out from between his thighs, knock my kickstand into place, and jump off my motorcycle, the opposite side of Aleko. Then I run toward the beach. It's not easy running on sand with a full leather suit on that's too big for me, and the tide is high so there's really not a lot of beach to run to, but I spot some dunes up ahead.

I can hear his laugh from behind me and I almost turn, ready to give in and have him catch me already, but this is too fun. I don't remember the last time something was just fun.

After a few minutes of running, thankfully, Aleko finally makes contact. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and tackles me to the ground. The sand mostly breaks our fall and he maneuvers us so that he's now straddling me, my arms pinned to my sides by his leather-clad thighs.

"Think you're funny, do you, Cherry?" Unwrapping the sucker I threw at him earlier, he pops it into his mouth, and it's then I notice the silver glint on his tongue.

"Actually, I do. Made you laugh, didn't I?" I struggle—not very hard—to pull my arms out, but with all the leather and the sand beneath us, it's not easy.

"No. You thinking that you could get away from me again made me laugh."

Like some kind of stealth clothes assassin, he unzips my leather suit and slides it to my waist, then he grips my wrists, holding them together at my stomach with one hand, and moves off me, bending my knee to reach my foot. One at a time, he removes my boots, then the rest of my suit.

It's still warm out, and I was hoping meeting Aleko tonight would lead to this, so of course, all I'm wearing now that my suit and tank-top are off are my black bra and lace panties. Aleko's gaze runs all over my body, seemingly appreciating my lack of clothes, before his eyes finally rest on mine. The heat emanating from him is addictive and I'm struggling to remember why I pushed him away and let him believe I was dead.

"You won't run from me again." I feel like he wants to say more, but he stops himself, releasing his grip on my wrists and standing.

The sound of the ocean crashing against the pillars of the pier to our left is suddenly the only thing I can hear, but the rhythm of my pounding heart quickly joins in as Aleko strips off his leather suit, revealing a plain white T-shirt and tight boxer-briefs. They hit the sandy ground beside him as quickly as they appear and my breath catches at the sight of him in all his glorious nakedness.

His cock stands hard and proud, the lines of his tattoos dipping and curving around every inch of his beautifully toned body as the moonlight makes him glow like an ethereal dark angel. I swear I'm in the middle of a romance novel, because this man is almost more than I can handle—almost.

Without thinking too much, I rise to my knees and move toward him, gripping his thick cock in my hand and looking up at him through my lashes. There's still a hint of anger in his eyes, but it's overshadowed by amusement and pure lust as I tentatively lick the pre-cum dripping from his tip.

The deep grumble that escapes him on an exhale has a direct link to my clit, causing a shudder to roll through me. His eyes narrow briefly, as though he's making a decision, before he grips the low pigtails in my hair, one in each hand, and pushes himself between my lips, hard and fast. The thick head of his cock hits the back of my throat and I gag, tears forming in my eyes, but I'll take whatever he's willing to give if it means he forgives me.

He holds me in place for a few seconds before releasing the pressure on my hair so I can control my actions once more. Bringing my hands up from my knees, I palm his ass cheeks, squeezing in time with the bobs of my head as I suck him in deep, running my tongue along his shaft each time I pull away. His fingertips dig into the sides of my head, urging me to move faster, to suck harder, to twirl my tongue over his tip so I can taste every last drop he has to give.

Bringing one of my hands away from his perfectly toned ass, I grip the base of his shaft and move in time with my mouth before palming his balls and rolling them with my fingers. He groans and I look up at him through my lashes again to see his eyes firmly on me. They're hooded, and I can feel how close he is.

"Fuck!" Aleko's body tenses, his grip on my head becomes firm and he holds me in place as he thrusts deeper, pausing on a loud groan. Streams of his salty cum hit the back of my throat and I suck harder, milking him for everything he has, swallowing it all down like my favorite shake.

The crunch of the cherry sucker in his mouth makes me smile as I pull away, licking the tip of his cock to make sure I have all of him.

With his hands still on my pigtails, he encourages me to stand, lifting me by the hair so close to him that I have no other option but to run my breasts up his delectable naked body. When his cock falls between my cleavage, I shudder at the sensation, wondering what it would feel like to have his cum all over me.

Now face to face—or chest to face because he's got at least a foot on me—the scent of him is overwhelming and I'm struggling to remember why I lied to him.

"You are a dangerous woman, Mackenzie Wilson." He brings his hands down to the top of my ass, his fingers delicately stroking across my skin as he looks down at me. "I should hate you for what you did. You lied to me, Cherry. Fucking lied. And I don't know how to forgive that because I've never forgiven a liar." He closes his eyes and inhales deeply and my heart sinks a little at his admission.

I did this. I made him feel this way. It's not fun.

"I'm so—" My apology is cut off by his lips on mine, his tongue taking no prisoners and demanding entrance into my eager mouth. The hard metal of his tongue bar confirms that he's had it repierced since leaving jail, and I'm not complaining. That thing is magical when it's pressed against my clit.

Aleko's firm hands slide farther down to grip the globes of my ass and he lifts me so we're the same height. I need zero encouragement to wrap my legs around his waist, loving the sensation of his hardening cock against my panty-covered pussy.

I really fucking missed this man.

The kiss is desperate, chaotic, and I need the thin cloth barrier between us to disappear so he can sink his cock inside me so deep I see stars. My nipples are rubbing against the material of my bra, needing contact as much as my pussy does as I push myself closer to Aleko.

His grip on my ass as he kneads my flesh is hard enough to leave fingertip-sized bruises, and I can't wait to wear them with pride.

Quicker than I can blink, Aleko pulls his head back, breaking our kiss, our connection, but his hold on me doesn't falter.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Okay, not the way I thought this was going to go yet, but I'm all for an open dialogue—now that I know what a shit-show it is to keep things from him.

I make a move to get down, but his grip tightens, indicating that I'm not going anywhere.

Sighing, I quietly tell my pussy to stand down because this isn't going to be pretty.

"I've been planning it for a long time. And you were never a part of that." I lower my eyes, focusing on the lines of the octopus across his bare chest.

Aleko is quick to rectify my move, using one of his hands to place a finger beneath my chin and lift my head again.

"The moment I made you mine, you made me yours. That means I'm a part of every-fucking-thing, Cherry." His gaze is intense, but the anger and hurt are back, stronger than the lust from minutes ago.

"I know." I sigh again because I do know. And that's what made it so difficult when the time came. "But it needed to be believable. You helped make it believable."

"You mean you fucking used me?" Disgust fills his eyes and he loosens his grip on my ass, allowing me to slide down his body. I already hate the lack of contact as shame rolls through me.

"No. I would never—"

"But you did."

"Aleko, no. I…"

"What, Mackenzie? What could you possibly say to make it all better?" His tone is accusing, but there's hope there, as though he really does want me to make this all better.

My eyes remain locked on his, even with the small distance between our bodies now.

"You weren't supposed to go to jail, I—"

"What the fuck did you think would happen when I realized someone had shot my old lady? That I'd find the ones responsible and invite them over for coffee?"

"I thought you'd be safer by not knowing. There was no doubt in my mind you'd have killed Jake for me, and if you went to prison for my problems, well… I wouldn't have been able to live with that." My voice breaks on the last syllable, having to compete against the roar of the crashing waves. As emotion floods my tone and tears prick my eyes, it feels as though even the ocean is pissed off at me and my life choices.

"And you thought me living with your death was a better option, did you?" Hate fills his words, creating a bigger chasm out of the crack already running through my heart.

He's right. I may have thought my plan through, but not once did I imagine the fallout after he came along.

"I'm sorry, okay?" The tears finally break free and I can't contain the gentle sob. "But I'm only sorry for what I did to you. Everything else needed to happen. Jake needed to be taught a lesson, and it had to…" I inhale shakily, the tears streaming now. "It had to be me."

Aleko's expression softens a little and he steps closer, placing a palm on each side of my face and searching my eyes for more answers.

"What happened with Jake, Cherry? Was his shooting fake too?"

I slowly shake my head. "No, but he's been alive for the last two months."

His eyes widen slightly at my admission. I want to tell him everything, be completely open and honest with him, and I'm afraid that ship has sailed, but I have to try. Aleko can't forgive lies.

"Where is he?" As though he can take care of all my problems before he kicks me to the curb, Aleko's eyes are tense, narrowed, focused on the person who destroyed my life.

"He's dead now. As of tonight, actually." I huff a laugh, but it's full of pain and anger.

"So you kept him alive and in pain for the last two months while you pretended you were both dead?"

What I can only describe as pride takes over his face as I slowly nod, more tears falling down my cheeks and over his thumbs.

"Oh, baby. You really are fucked up, aren't you?" The way he says it sounds more like a proud father than an angry lover.

More tears trickle down my face as I nod again, fearful of how he's going to react now.

"Come home with me, Cherry. We'll fix everything. Together."

"I can't, I—" Once again, I'm interrupted with a searing kiss. A kiss to rival all kisses as our tongues war, our bodies heat, and all sense of time disappears with my fears of losing him.

"Did you bury him?" He pulls away to look deep into my soul to ask his question, and I shake my head, knowing I left Jake's corpse in the basement so I could race tonight.

"Okay. Let's go call Grinder."