Chapter 9 Lacey

T hree years earlier—

"Oh, God, Skel. You're bleeding!" We were attacked. Some guy I'd never seen before rushed toward us in the rain and stabbed Skel. In the parking lot. At a fucking Halloween party. "You're hurt."

He looked down, noticing the slash in his hoodie and the tee shirt underneath, watching as blood oozed from the wound. "Shit."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, pulling out my phone. My hands shook as the adrenaline kicked in, and I blinked, trying hard to focus and not panic.

"Baby, it's not bad. Promise."

I finally found clarity and brushed my wet hair out of my face, trying to get a better look at the wound. "You need a hospital."

"No." He shook his head. "We just need to get to my place. I can take care of this myself."

"Skel, it's pouring rain, and you're losing blood."

"And I can handle a short ride home." He smirked. "Get on my damn bike, Sweet Girl. Stop draggin' this out."

I huffed as I sat on the wet leather seat, scrunching my face at the cold water seeping into my skin. This would be a horrible ride. I'd hate every minute.

But Skel was the one injured, not me. I could stop being a brat.

He sat in front of me, guiding my hands around his waist and positioning them so I pressed against his wound. His body stiffened as he breathed a harsh breath. "Fuck. Just apply pressure for me."

"I'll try."

He patted my hand. "You got this."

I should have been saying that to him.

The rain slowed as we merged onto the road, finally relenting as we rode toward his house. The wind had died down but still whipped our wet clothes around us. If it had been summer, I would have enjoyed the warm rain and the chill on my skin. In October? No.

Skel trembled beneath my hands as we pulled to a stop at a red light. I couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to keep us safe on his bike while ignoring the pain in his side. Pressing against his back, I tried to give him some of my warmth.

"Such a good girl," he praised. "Keep holding tight, Lacey."

My arms ached, but it was nothing compared to what he endured. By the time we arrived at his place, both of us were exhausted. Skel parked in his garage and clicked the button to lower the door. He seemed stiff as I dropped my hands and stood.

I noticed the blood staining my fingers and bit my lip, worried when I saw him stand. "Let's get to your bathroom and the supplies."

He grunted as we entered his house, taking my hand as we walked through and stopped inside the bathroom. "Strip, Baby. We both need to get out of these wet clothes."

I nodded, wrestling with the French Maid costume and the clinging fabric, shivering as my cold fingers felt almost numb. Once I was naked, not even considering the option of hesitating, I watched as he turned on the shower.

Skel had one of those showers with all glass, and I followed him inside, gasping as the warm water hit my chilled skin. Heat from the steam fogged the glass as I sighed, dipping under the spray to wet my hair and the dry, crusty feeling that had been left behind by the rain.

Skel leaned against the tile and pressed a hand to his side. "Come here."

I moved closer, dropping my head to look at the wound on his abdomen. His hand lifted.

"It's not that deep," he murmured.

"You're right, but it still looks awful. You've lost some blood."

"I can handle that. Had far worse overseas."

"As a Marine?" I clarified. He went twice if I remember correctly. Skel was a hero. My hero, too. I was already falling hard and fast for him. "I think you need stitches."

"Yeah. I do," he confirmed. "After we finish this shower."

"Does that mean I get to help wash you?" I asked with a wicked smile, trying hard not to stare at his crotch.

Skel's cock had lengthened, growing harder as he stared at me. "Anything you want, Sweet Girl. I'm yours."

Skel saved my life. He found me in that cemetery. He stopped the attacker from harming me and got injured in the process. He'd been there when I needed him since this started. The least I could do was show my gratitude.

I lowered to my knees, licking my lips as I stared up at him.

Skel's eyes were hooded. "Not gonna lie, Baby. You look damn good on your knees for me."

I reached for his erection, wrapping my hand around the base as I flicked my tongue toward the tip.

"Such a tease," he groaned.

Without warning, I took him in my mouth, nearly choking as I swallowed him down, stroking the hard length as he jolted.

"Damn." His hand slapped the tile while the other still pressed into his stomach. "Fuck. That feels good."

God, I was consumed by him. The feel of his cock like velvet but hard as steel. The taste of him was almost salty but unique. His scent clung to his skin. Woodsy and clean, with a hint of spice and remnants of leather and motor oil. It sounded odd, but I loved the combination.

My strokes increased in pace as I continued to bob my head, curling my tongue around his length, sucking, licking, and moaning because I couldn't get enough of him. I pumped his shaft as I squeezed, and he began to piston his hips.

"I'm gonna come," he warned.

"Good," I managed to say with a mouth full of his dick.

"Where?" he growled, clenching his hand as if he fought to reach for me.

I pointed to my mouth, and he snarled, fisting my hair as he pulled me up and down on his length. His hips punched toward me. Once. Twice. Three times before, he shuddered. His cock pulsed between my lips before he spilled into my mouth, shooting down my throat as I eagerly swallowed.

He panted as he withdrew, leaning his head against the tile. "Lacey. Fuck."

"Not good enough?" I teased.

"Best I ever had," he growled. "You're so fucking perfect."

I rose as he reached for me, resting my head against his chest. "We need to take care of you."

"You already did."

I snorted. "Your wound, my sexy hero."

He shook his head. "I'm no hero."

"You are to me," I replied softly, kissing the underside of his jaw. "Come on."

I never saw anyone stitch themselves up. It wasn't something I wanted to watch again. Every time the needle threaded through Skel's skin, I winced. It must have been agony, and he showed no sign of distress or pain, just calmly tied off each stitch and moved to the next one.

"Are you sure you're not a superhero?"

He laughed. "No, Baby. Just a man."

"You seem so much more. Larger than life," I admitted with awe. "You take down criminals. Sew up your own wounds. Wear a mask and eliminate your enemies. A sex god."

He shook his head. "You're somethin' else, Sweet Girl. A fucking breath of fresh air. Just what these old bones need."

"You're not old."

He paused to stare into my eyes. "A lot older than you."

"I don't care about that."

"You might when I'm old and gray, and you're still young and beautiful."

"Skel." It sounded like he was trying to convince me that we would never work. He should have thought about that before he fucked me. More than once. Or called me sweet girl. Or showed up and made me fall for him.

"Your father won't allow it."

So? "I'm an adult, Skel."

"But you're under his roof."

"What if I lived under yours?"

He frowned. "You ever live with a guy before? Or anywhere with a roommate?"

No. I sighed. "That doesn't mean I'm not capable of handling it."

"And what if ten years from now, you want a family, and I can't give you one?" Pain leaked through to strain his features before it vanished.

I didn't reply. I froze. Was he unable to have kids? Did it matter to me? I wasn't sure.

"And that's the deal breaker right there."

Skel returned to his stitches, bandaged the wound, and cleaned up. We didn't speak until he tugged a shirt over his head. "I'm taking you home."

I felt defeated. He'd shut me out. It was subtle, but I could still sense it. "I want to talk about this."

"We will."

Good.

"But your father needs to know what happened tonight."

I didn't argue as Skel led me to the garage. He didn't move to his Harley but brought me to his truck instead. We didn't say much on the ride to my building. Both of us were lost in our heads. We let that conversation about having kids rule us, and instead of dealing with it, we retreated.

Skel pulled in front of the high rise and parked by the doors, idling his truck. He didn't shut off the engine.

"You're not coming in?"

"No."

I didn't know why that hurt so much. He'd been there the whole time—a rock for me to lean on. And now, because of some minor issue, we couldn't seem to discuss, he was pulling away. "I would feel better if you did."

He seemed to think on it. "The judge is going to be upset, rightfully so, and I don't think my presence is wanted."

"It's wanted by me."

"Lacey."

"Come inside with me, Bran. I'm asking."

"I know it seems harsh, but I've got to say no."

Unbuckling my belt, I slid from the seat and opened the door, running from Skel because I couldn't believe he was acting like this. I never thought he'd stop fighting. He'd been an unmoving force of nature, a warrior, and a bodyguard. Nothing seemed to faze him. He faced every obstacle and quickly conquered it. Movies and songs were written about men like him. Strong. Brave. Everything. He was everything to me.

My heart broke as I realized what we shared had been far too brief but just enough to ruin me for anyone else. I wanted my Skel. My masked vigilante.

Maybe I was a silly girl who fell in love too fast. It was a character flaw that I clung to the people I cared about and held on too tight. After my mother died of cancer, it seemed to intensify. That was my shit to deal with, but it didn't mean that what I had with Skel wasn't real. I just wished he wanted me enough to push beyond his baggage and his past.

The building was quiet as I rushed inside. I ignored James as I walked to the elevator, too deep in my thoughts to notice much around me. The penthouse elevator lifted me high into the building, swinging open as I gasped.

Two men in black suits held guns pointed at my chest.

"I'm so glad you could join us," Luis Diego announced as he stood inside my door. "Your father is waiting."

Skel! I need you!