Get Off on the Pain (22 page)

I can’t help but to smile. “I’m sure she is, Alex. Bye.”

Memphis nods his head at Alex before he turns and walks away, leaving us alone. Being alone with Memphis makes my heart ache to be close to him. It’s an odd feeling that I’m not used to and it scares me. I don’t want to need this.

I clear my throat. “Thanks for breakfast.” I set my plate in the sink and get ready to wash it, but Memphis grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Don’t wash your plate. Just leave it.”

I swallow nervously before grabbing his hands and rubbing my fingertips over the now hardened scabs. I want to ask him about so much, but I’m afraid he’ll only pull away. I can’t have that. I know that he’ll be gone soon, so maybe I should just take this time with him while I have it.

“Do they hurt?”

He shakes his head and smiles while wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling my body against his. “Nah.” He reaches up with one hand and brushes my hair behind my ear. He’s looking at me as if he’s trying to figure me out. “Tell me about yourself.”

I let out a nervous laugh, surprised by his words. “What?” I shake my head and kiss his neck, before looking back up at him. He’s dead serious. He really wants to know about me. This guy really is confusing.

“You said your dad raised you. Where’s your mother? Is she still alive?” His facial expression becomes pained as he waits for me to respond.

“Yeah,” I say softly, trying to think of the best way to explain this. “She took off when I was little and I haven’t heard from her since.” I swallow the lump that is rising in my throat. I don’t like to think about my mother often. “My father isn’t a good guy, Memphis. She ran off because of him and his lifestyle. I think a part of her was afraid to take me away from him. I’m not really sure. I was too young to know any better.”

I pull my way out of his arms and turn around. I need to do something. I can’t just stand here. Swallowing back my emotions, I reach out and turn the faucet on. Memphis gets ready to say something, but I put my hand up to stop him.

“After she took off, it was just me and my father, but he wasn’t around much. He’s a very busy man and always has been, so I spent a lot of time sleeping at friend’s houses or at babysitter’s. Then, when I got old enough to really understand what line of ‘work’ he was in . . . he dragged me along with him, made me watch, and tried to teach me to be like him. That’s what made me truly understand why my mother left. It made me want to run away also. He’s a sick, twisted, dangerous fuck.”

I pause, gathering my thoughts, but start to wash the dishes.

“When he was ran out of
Chicago
and decided to move here to
Crooked Creek
some years ago, I decided to stay back in
Chicago
with a friend. I wanted nothing to do with him. I didn’t answer his calls for over a year. Then as time went on I felt bad not having any family, so I broke down and moved here in an effort to be close to him, to give him a second chance. I then realized once again that he’s a piece of shit and will never change.”

I finish washing the last dish, turn off the water, and set it aside to dry before turning around to face Memphis. “I met Bailey, got a job at the tattoo shop, and told my father to fuck off. I’ve only seen him about five times in the last four years and it doesn’t bother me at all. Bailey is my family now. She’s the best person I know and I can always count on her to be there for me. Always.”

Memphis turns his head away for a moment before turning back to face me. “My father was a piece of shit too. He’s the worst man I have ever met in my life . . . but my mother . . . she’s the best person I have ever met in my life and not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.”

His jaw flexes as he steps up beside me. “I’m sorry that your mother wasn’t there. Both your parents missed out on something beautiful. You just need to remember that; it’s not you that missed out, it’s them. Never fucking forget that.”

I feel a pool of emotions swarm through me from his words and it takes everything in me to not cry. All I can do is shake my head and turn away.

“Feel free to use my shower. I’ll be out in the garage.” He picks up my chin, causing me to look at him. “Never forget how fucking great you are. Got it? Never let anyone break you down.”

I nod my head and he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen, drowning in own my emotions.

After taking a shower I throw on my old clothes and get ready to reach for my jacket, but don’t see it anywhere, so I hurry up the stairs to go find Memphis in the garage. I only have about thirty minutes before I have to be at work.

I open the garage door to see Memphis staring down at the Trans Am. He’s sweaty and his hair is sticking up all over the place. He was taking out his frustration on the bag again.

I close the garage door behind me and step inside, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He’s so damn beautiful.

“This was my mom’s car.” His voice is laced with a hint of pride. “My buddy Jack . . . he was actually one of my mom’s best friend’s growing up. He found this car for me and helped me fix it up. He was so damn excited when he saw it sitting in the junkyard. I will never forget that look on his face.”

He looks up from the car and smiles. My heart stops from the beauty of just that look alone. “As soon as he told me that my mom’s first love was a seventy-six, I knew it would be the perfect gift for her, so I took every cent that I had and told Jack to get it; no exceptions. I needed that damn car. It took us six months to get this car perfect enough to present to her. I told Jack it had to be as perfect as her. It definitely wasn’t easy, but there was no way that my mother would pass on without setting her eyes on this car. I wouldn’t allow it.”

He steps away from the car and finally looks up at me. “I surprised her with it a week before I got locked up. Her smile when she saw this car brought me to tears. It’s one of the only times that I ever remember crying. Knowing that I could do one thing to make her happy before she passed made me feel a little bit of peace inside.”

His voice cracks with emotion before he turns away again. “That feeling was lost the second I lost control and I saw the pain in her eyes that night; six years ago. All that I did was for nothing. I fucking let her down. She told me that I didn’t, but how could I have not? It was all over her face.”

Without saying a word, he reaches for his leather jacket and hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask softly, unsure of how to react now that he has chosen to open up a bit.

“It’s chilly outside. Wear it.”

I don’t even bother to ask him where mine is, as he helps me slip into it. I have a feeling that he just needs me to wear his right now. It gives me a feeling of warmth inside.

I walk toward the door, but stop before I open it. “Thank you, Memphis.”

“For what?”

I look him in the eyes, wanting him to know how grateful I am. “For opening up a bit. For giving me just a little bit to hold onto.” I snuggle into the jacket and smile. “And also for the jacket.”

He nods his head and runs his hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I won’t be home till real late tonight. Do me a favor and keep your eye on Alex.”

I suddenly feel sick and my nerves are going crazy. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“I have something to take care of. I have to.” He nods his head toward the door. “You better hurry before you’re late.”

I give him a long, hard look before deciding not to push it. This man only tells me what he wants to.

Sucks for me . . .

ACE OPENS THE DOOR RIGHT as I walk up and reach for it. He gives me his devilishly handsome smile, showing his dimples as he snakes his arm around my shoulder. “Morning, Angel.”

He’s lucky I’m in a halfway decent mood this morning. He’s always so damn happy to see me; especially this early, and it usually makes me want to punch him in his junk.

“Morning,” I mumble. I look around for Styles and don’t see him. I didn’t think I noticed his car in the parking lot. “Where’s Styles?”

Ace raises an eyebrow and tilts his head toward the door as Styles walks in looking half dead. “Here’s the walking liquor bottle now.” He walks over and slaps him on the back, causing Styles to look up and grunt. “What’s wrong, big man? The party didn’t go well or you just went on an all night drinking binge?”

I release a small laugh unable to hold it back, as Styles attempts to sit in his chair, almost missing it. I forgot that his old college buddy was in town and he was throwing a big party for him.

“Fuck off,” Styles says with a grin. “It was the greatest night of my damn life.” He smiles real big as Ace dances up to him and pounds his fist to congratulate him.

“Alright, man.” He backs away. “I’m all ears after this first client. It sounds like you had a hell of a night.”

I shake my head at the boys and walk toward my room. “I’ll be setting up, Styles. If anyone comes in for me just send them back.”

He leans back in his chair and grins like a fool. “Yup.”

After I clean up and get everything organized, I pull out my drawing and just stare at it. I get a sense of pride and I can’t help but to smile. Now that Memphis has pointed out how awesome this looks, it’s easier for me to see it too. I didn’t think it was anything to be proud of. I guess it’s always because I felt I was never good enough.

I carefully place the drawing back into my drawer and stand up from the desk.

“Lyric.”

My blood runs cold at the sound of the deep voice coming from the doorway. I haven’t heard that voice in person for over six months.

I force myself to turn toward the door, and when my eyes set on him I can feel the anger building up. He’s standing there in his stupid expensive suit as if he’s royalty and the world should bow to his fucking feet.

He thinks he’s so fucking powerful, and that he can get anyone to listen to him. He’s wrong. Mother wouldn’t do it. That’s why she left . . . and I won’t do it either.

He tried to make me into what he wanted. He treated me as if I were the little boy he always wanted. The only time he paid any attention to me is when he was teaching me how to fight or making me watch.

“What do you want? Running low on people to do your dirty work?” I growl out.

His dark hair is slicked back, laced with a hint of gray now. I hate looking at him. Seeing him makes me wish that I gave him up when I had the chance. I should have, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because he is my only family and I was . . . scared of being alone.

He smiles and steps further into the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m here to see my daughter. You haven’t returned my call in months. You didn’t think I was going to give up that easily . . . did you?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh and roll my eyes. “And you didn’t answer me my whole life. You tell me how the hell it feels to not be wanted. Does it feel good?”

“Dammit, Lyric.” He steps up close to me and grabs my arm, squeezing. “I always wanted you. It was you that didn’t want me. Why can’t you see that? You pushed me away after your mother ran off on us.” He squeezes harder and gets in my face. “I raised you the best I knew how.”

I jerk my arm away from him and focus on not wanting to kill him. He’s wrong. He always does this. He always tries to manipulate me and make me feel as if it’s my fault that he wasn’t in my life. Well fuck him.

“What are you doing here, father? I have work to do. I don’t have time for your shit.”

He takes a deep breath and I can tell he’s trying to push back his anger. He’s not used to people refusing to listen to him. He’s used to getting everything he wants. “I want you to come have dinner with me so we can spend some time together. Whether you believe it or not . . . I miss you.”

I shake my head and bite my bottom lip. I want to scream at him and tell him to fuck off. I don’t need him, but a part of me feels bad for him. No one truly respects him. They all fear him. He’s alone in this world and he expects me to love him, when really I just despise him. “Are you still in the business?”

He steps up to me and grabs for my hand. “Lyric, let’s not talk about that. There are plenty other topics of conversation.”

I yank my arm out of his reach. “Then the answer is no. Do you not realize that you ruined my damn life, that I had feds constantly hounding me to give you up when you ran from Chicago? They contacted me again four months ago. It’s never fucking going to end. Do you get that?” I shove him toward the door. “You wanted me to fight. Well here.” I point at the door. “Get out of my life.”

“Lyric.” He grits his teeth and gets ready to say something else, but the door opens and Bailey and Liam walk in.

My father just shakes his head and fixes his suit, while walking toward the door. “I’ll be back, Lyric. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me. You’ve got one week.”

I look to Bailey, who is staring my father up and down as if she thinks he’s hot. Fucking gross. I then turn back to my father. “Goodbye,” is all I say before shutting the door. I can’t do it. I won’t. He’s no good. He ruins lives. That’s all he’s ever been good for: hurt, pain, and suffering.