Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5) (40 page)

“The poor bastard don’t even know it but that girl of his, or yours…whoever she belongs to…Lacey healed Blackie,” Riggs continued. “He’s falling apart, dropped off his program and turned his life to shit again because he doesn’t think he deserves her. He’s afraid like hell he will fuck it up and lose her or worse, he’s terrified he will cause her harm.”

“Blackie told you this?”

“No. I’ve got eyes man, and I got a woman I pushed away because I’m feeling all those things. It’s easy for me to spot what I’m going through in someone else.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Blackie wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t get involved with my daughter. He’s my goddamn vice president, the man I chose to sit at my left, he’s my fucking
brother
,” he roared.

“Heart,” Riggs said.

“Ain’t got shit to do with what you’re talking about!”

“It’s got everything to do with what I’m talking about. You told me months ago Blackie’s heart beats for a woman he lost a long time ago and he’s just waiting for the day he is reunited with her. You and I both know that man has had plenty of opportunities to end the nightmare he’s living, but he doesn’t,” he shouted, advancing toward my dad. “He keeps on pushing through because he’s got
heart
, something that keeps him here and not in Green-Wood cemetery. If he’s your brother, you’ll ease that man of the burden of his conscience. Now, if you’re going to kill me, do it now and make it fast and painless. Or you could let me slide because I’ve got a kid on the way and I’d like to get the chance to love my kid as much as you love yours.”

Riggs reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper before sliding it across the counter at my father. He didn’t lift his head as he placed his palm over the paper.

“The Corrupt Bastards run an online gambling site. The kid’s father owed them a hundred grand. That’s his account profile,” Riggs said before turning around.

I stepped into the kitchen, blocking him from leaving as I stared back at him.

“Thank you,” I whispered, wiping the tears that had fallen from my eyes.

“You’re not welcome,” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder at my dad. “Got your work cut out for you Little Miss Defiant, going to take a whole lot of glue to patch him up,” he grunted before stepping around me and leaving me alone in the kitchen with my father.

“Dad,” I whispered.

He kept his head lowered as he peered back up at me.

“Not now Lacey. Not now,” he warned.

I felt like I should apologize to him but I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. For breaking his heart? If it wasn’t Blackie who I fell in love with would he still be this upset? Is it because I’m his daughter or because Blackie is his brother?

I saw him break, his knuckles whiten as he gripped the counter and I feared what was running through his head right now.

Silence.

Please.

“Dad, please look at me,” I pleaded.

He waited a beat before releasing his hold on the counter and crossed his arms against his chest as he finally looked at me.

“Make this right.” I demanded, quietly, taking a few more steps closer to him. “You have to help him get out because if you don’t I will. I’m not leaving him in there to rot after what he did for me and you shouldn’t want to either.”

“Don’t tell me how to handle my business Lacey,” he ground out. “Time for you to take a step back and concentrate on your own issues and leave Blackie to me,” he said, clenching his jaw as he spoke.

He unraveled his arms, continued to stare at me for a moment before he shook his head. 

“Fucking, hell,” he muttered, brushing past me before leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I closed my eyes when I heard the front door slam.

Daddy’s little girl just broke her daddy’s heart.

Actually, Riggs did.

Chapter Thirty-three

I scrambled off my cot, taking three steps towards the metal toilet and dropped to my knees. I’ve been here nearly a week, one fucking week with no junk to shoot, snort, or swallow. I was denied bail and charged with attempted manslaughter but if the fuck dies the D.A. will change it to murder.

I was wishing for death.

That’s why I’m not cooperating with the club’s lawyer too much. After, sitting down with him when I was held at the police station he told me he was going to use Lace to testify. I decided to just let it all be. Whatever happens, happens. I’m not putting this shit on her, she didn’t ask that fuck to touch her…just let it be. Let it be over for her.

Brantley thinks he won, that I’m threatened by the charge
murder in the first degree.

Bring it cocksucker.

I’ve got nothing on the outside.

These walls and these bars are it for me. That’s okay because when I’m not violently throwing up from not having my drugs, I relive the memories of my life.

The good.

The bad.

The ugly.

Then I think of her.

And I momentarily wish for the kid to live, for a way out of here or a goddamn miracle. Then reality sets in and I’m stuck in the memories because it’s all I’ve got and all I’ll ever have.

I’m not just Satan’s Knight, I’m his fucking predecessor, here on earth.

And this is my hell.

I started going through withdrawals the morning of my arraignment. I hadn’t snorted or taken anything since the bar and I was feeling it. After I broke things off with Lacey for good, I stopped going to the clinic and getting my dose of methadone. I replaced the fake heroin with the pills, crushing and snorting them to get my fix but, after I was shipped here they started me on the program again.

The C.O.’s bring me to the medical building every morning, I get my dose; they check my vitals, and send me back to my fucking cell to rot in hell. 

It’s not enough.

Never enough.

But as long as I have a pulse, they don’t give a fuck because their job is to keep me alive so I can pay for my sins. Every inmate sent here, the government pays for, actually the taxpayers pay for. So, you over there with the fat check and nine-to-five job, you’re the one paying for the methadone in my bloodstream right now and the ham and cheese sandwich I’ll eat for dinner but won’t manage to keep down.

I’m close to caving and finding a way to get the drugs I need. People think a man gets locked up, and he’s at the mercy of the state, you become their property…what a fucking joke. You may lose your name and get a number when you get locked up but you can score whatever the fuck you need in jail. The correction officers here are more corrupt than the streets they pulled me from. As long as you give them a cut, you can sell, trade, or steal whatever the fuck you want.

And right now I want a fucking needle and the shittiest heroin I could get my hands on. While I may be able to score drugs, it ain’t the pure shit like I’ve been used to. It’s the bottom of the barrel shit, that’s been cut down to basically nothing but beggars can’t be fucking choosey.

“Petra, on your feet!” The C.O. patrolling my cell block shouted as he rattled his keys, trying to find the one to unlock the bars that confine me. I leaned back on my haunches, swipe my mouth clean with the sleeve of my shirt before standing on my wobbly legs.

“It fucking stinks in here,” he commented as he stepped inside my cell.

I wish I didn’t throw everything up into the toilet, I’d love to fucking bless this prick and his smug face.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“You’ve got a visitor,” he said, twirling his key ring around his finger.

I peered at him, running my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my eyes and away from my face.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading me out of my cell and down the cell block.

Jack and Wolf showed up at my arraignment but I didn’t pay my brother’s any mind. I wasn’t ready to talk to Jack about business or more importantly what had happened that landed my ass in this mess. I didn’t trust myself with him.

The last couple months I’ve been lying through my fucking teeth to him.

And to myself.

      I walked into the visitor’s room and spotted Jack instantly, the patch we worshipped stitched proudly into the back of his cut. I should’ve turned around and denied the visit but I’m a glutton for punishment and man, did I deserve my punishment.

I walked to the table, dropping into the chair in front of my president and slowly lifted my eyes to his.

Get your game face on Blackie.

“Christ, you look like shit,” he growled as his eyes raked me over.

“Good to see you too,” I retorted, dropping my head into my hands because it felt like it weighed more than my neck could hold.

“Are they fucking with you in here?” He asked as he glanced over his shoulders at the correction officers guarding the room.

I spread my fingers across my face and pierced him with my dark eyes.

“Why are you here?” I questioned, wanting the visit to be over before it even began.

“I’m here because you’re my fucking brother. You saved my daughter from getting raped,” he hissed, meeting my gaze as I dropped my hands and leaned back in the chair. “If you hadn’t been there…well, I don’t think I have to tell you, we both know what would have happened.”

Fuck.

Don’t thank me. Don’t fucking thank me.

I didn’t do it for you.

I did it for me.

“She okay?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from him.

It’s been driving me crazy that I left her to deal with the repercussions of that night by herself. She’s all I think about and I’m going mad thinking that prick hurt her before I managed to get to her.

“She’s a fucking mess,” he hissed. “She blames herself for you being in here.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” I snapped, turning my eyes back to him. “Make her cut that shit out,” I demanded. “She didn’t ask for that cocksucker to take advantage of her.”

He stared at me for a moment and I held his gaze, watching as the wheels in his head turned round and round.

“Anyone would’ve done it. She was crying, begging for help, anyone with a fucking conscience would’ve done what I did,” I ground out.

Lies.

The truth was, no one would’ve went to the extreme I did, another man, would’ve made sure she was safe and left well enough alone. Maybe he would’ve roughed the son of a bitch up but he wouldn’t have crushed his skull against the ground. Only one other man would’ve done the same as me and I was looking at him.

She was his before she was mine.

“Something came to light,” Jack said finally, scratching the scruff lining his jaw.

I knew the facial expression he was sporting, and I knew it well. He was contemplating his words, choosing wisely and feeding off my expression to see which way he goes.

Don’t let the mental shit fool you.

Jack Parrish knows how to play you.

He’s smart and calculates his every move, backing you into a corner when he’s got something over you.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

Let’s play.

I’ve got nothing left to lose.

“The lawyer says if he lives the sentence will be five years max with your record but with Lacey’s testimony he can probably get you three. So, I sent Riggs down to the hospital to check on the status of the prick,” he stared, rolling his neck from side to side.

“Lacey’s testimony? Get the fuck out of here, leave her alone,” I clipped.

He narrowed his eyes as he cupped the back of his neck and peered at me.

“I need to get you the fuck out of here. I got my hands full and don’t need you sitting here on a fucking vacation. Wu is going to make a move any day now. She’s got no fucking problem testifying and if it helps your case then what the fuck is the problem?” he sneered.

“I don’t know, Jack, she’s your daughter. You want her reliving that night? I don’t,” I growled.

Careful, man, you look like you give a fuck.

“Look, I don’t want her involved in this shit or anyone else for that matter. Let it be, man,’ I ordered. “Whatever I get, I get, whatever happens…I’m good,” I added.

“Sounds like you’re giving up,” he said, his jaw clenching with every word he spoke.       

“Maybe I am,” I said. “Maybe it’s fucking time. How long am I going to do this shit for? I can’t keep cheating my fate,” I admitted. The truth was I didn’t care about doing the time. It put space between me and Lace, gave her a chance to go on and live her life the way she was meant to. By the time I was finished with my sentence she’d move on, maybe get married, or even start a family. If I’m out that’s not going to happen.

I won’t let it.

“Your fate?” He slammed his palm against the table, earning the attention and wary eyes of the correction officers. Jack raised his hand to the C.O., an attempt at an apology as well as a silent vow that he would control himself.

Control and Jack didn’t go hand in hand.

He was
uncontrollable
.

He leaned over the table, glaring at me as he spoke through clenched teeth.