Uncontrollable (8 page)

“I want you. Oh God, Slade. Fuck me,” I pant as my
body works back and forth with his. “Show me I’m yours.” And he does just that
as my body shatters underneath his body and commands.

He starts to pant, and I smile. It doesn’t take him
long to come, and we fall to the floor in the closet.

The space is full of our heavy breathing as we lie
side by side. My body now satisfied and covered in sweat.

He looks over at me. “That is why I restrain you.”
He gives me a small smile. “I don’t last long when you touch me.”

I laugh and roll over on top of him. I look down at
him. “You make is sound like a bad thing,”

“Nothing that involves me with you could ever be a
bad thing.” He reaches up and pushes some hair behind my ear.

I give him a big smile; Jax has been forgotten.
For
now.

I wake to the sound of the
shower running in our bathroom. When I realize it’s still dark, and I can’t see
shit, I start to reach around on her side of the bed only to find it taken up
by a very furry puppy. I hate that Angel lets Peaches sleep with us. That dog
is going to get huge and take up all the space.

I reach over and pick up my phone to see it reads a
little past three in the morning.I open it up to see I have one message from
Tate.

Tate:
Drove Sam’s car home. I’ll bring it
back tomorrow. Just so you know, next time I will not stand by while you have
all the fun.

I smile as I fist my right hand, feeling the
tightness from it connecting with Jax’s face. We had all been standing inside
of Larry’s, trying to decide what to do about Jax when Holly had spotted him
and Angel standing out front. I had to literally spend two minutes arguing with
Tate. I didn’t want him going out there. We can’t chance Jax seeing him. Right
now Angel thinks everything Jax is saying is a lie. If he lays eyes on Tate, he
will most definitely speak of their fight and then bring up the phone call. Jax
thinks that he spoke with Tate when I answered her phone in New York. I don’t
want her knowing that he called her at all. Which means Tate needs to stay
back—and I know that’s hard for him to swallow. He wants to protect his sister
as much I was I want to protect her. We just have to be smart about it.

I shove off the covers and make my way into the
bathroom. I frown when I see the mirror covered in steam. How long has she been
in here?

I open the door to the shower and find her sitting
on the shower floor with her back resting against the far wall. Her head is
leaned back as well. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted.

“Angel?” I question shutting the door and making my
way over to her.

She opens her eyes and looks up at me. “Sorry, I didn’t
mean to wake you.” Her voice is rough as she tries to whisper.

“You didn’t.” I kneel down beside her, trying to
stay out of the way of the shower head. “But what are you doing sitting on the
floor in the shower at three in the morning?”

She sniffs and then closes her eyes once again. “I
can’t breathe,” she says sniffing again. “I’m trying to clear my nose with the
steam.”

“Do you feel bad?” I ask lifting my hand to her
forehead.

She lets out a small laugh. “I’m wet and sitting in
a shower, Slade. You won’t be able to feel if my head is warm or not.”

“Yes I can.” I feel around on her forehead. “And
you do feel hot,” I say with concern. “Do you feel bad anywhere else?”

She nods her head once. “My throat is sore. It’s
hard to swallow.”

“I’ll take you to the doctor. Come on.” I stand up.

She closes her eyes and sniffs. “No doctor’s office
is open this early. I’ll go tomorrow.”

True. “I’ll take you to Urgent Care,” I say
matter-of-fact.

“I don’t want to get out of the shower,” she
argues.

I look up at one of the shower heads on the other
wall. Its spray is on full blast, but it’s not directly facing her—she is just
getting lightly misted.

“I’m taking you,” I say turning around. “Finish up
while I get dressed.” I exit the shower and make my way to the closet. I throw
on a pair of sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt, and my hoodie before making my
way back into the bathroom. I find her passed out still sitting on the floor.

I can tell by the way her breathing sounds that she
has some sort of respiratory infection. I turn the water off and bend down to
pick her up, soaking the clean clothes I just put on. It’s a hassle getting her
dried off and clothed, but we get it done and then head off to Urgent Care.

Three hours later I place her back in bed and give
her the antibiotics the doctor has prescribed. Come to find out she has strep
throat and a sinus infection.

Once I give her the medication and tuck her in, I
call Rose. “Hello Mr. Long.”

“Hello, Rose,” I say quietly walking out of our
bedroom. “I won’t be in today; Angel is sick and needs me home.”

“Oh, I hope she’s okay,” she says sounding worried.

“She will be,” I assure her. “I do however have a
meeting at three thirty with Mr. Smith. Can you shoot him an email letting him
know I will able to do his meeting, but it will be by phone?” I walk into the
kitchen and place Peaches in her crate. The dog is not going to sleep with us
anymore.

“Absolutely,” she replies sweetly. “Tell Sam to
feel better soon.”

“Thank you. And I will.” I hang up and make my way
back to our bedroom. I yawn as I pull my alarm up on my phone. I set it for
noon, that way I get a little bit of sleep before I have to start work from
home today.

I sigh as I cuddle up next to her back and close my
eyes.

We’ve been back a little
over a week now, and I’m just starting to calm down with the whole Jax
situation. We haven’t seen or heard anything from him since the night outside
of Larry’s. I spoke with Tate last night, and I think even he has given up on
the idea of beating him to death.

“We need to get these taken care of.” I hold up a
few envelopes to Braxton as I sit in the conference room. I couldn’t be more
thankful that my father hired him. He has done a lot for me in the last week
around here, especially when I was home sick with her for two days.

“When do you need them back by?” he asks looking
them over.

“By tomorrow afternoon. I have court Wednesday
morning. You are welcome to come if you’d like.”

He smiles up at me excitedly, looking more like a
little kid than an adult who just graduated from Princeton law early. His brown
hair, almost black, makes him look older than he really is. Especially with how
he styles it—taking the longer pieces and combing them back. And the stubble
along his chin that he’s trying to grow makes him look confident.

“Mr. Long?” Rose’s voice comes through the
speakerphone.

“Yes, Rose?” I say holding down the button.

“A Mr. Lewis just called to cancel your lunch
appointment with him tomorrow,” she announces. “He wanted to see if you could
do next Monday?”

“That’s fine,” I answer.

“Okay. I will call him back and confirm for
Monday.”

“Thank you,” I say before looking back to Braxton.

Rose’s voice comes again. “Oh. And you have a
client in your office. He said it was important.”

I frown. I didn’t have a client scheduled. “Okay.
Thanks, Rose.”

I look down at my watch and sigh. I hate it when
people just pop up at my office. Don’t they understand I have shit to do?

“Thanks, Slade,” Braxton says with enthusiasm. “I
would love to accompany you on Wednesday.”

I nod my head as I stand and walk out of the
conference room toward my office. As soon as I enter, I come to a stop when I
see who is standing at my desk with a picture of Angel in his hands. Instant
rage causes me to slam my door shut.

He ignores me but smiles down at the picture. “You
guys look like the happy couple,” Jax smirks. “I almost believe it.” He runs
his hand down her picture and lets out a hard laugh. “You know I treated her
very well. She didn’t deserve how good I was to her.”

I stand rooted to my spot—killing the guy in my
work place would be hard to explain. “From what I know, you laid your hands on
her. And no woman deserves that,” I assert as my jaw twitches.

“I believe a bitch needs to learn her place,” he
sneers. “Do you know she’s fucking Tate?” he asks, surprising me.

So he think he’s figured out Tate.
He thinks
she’s dating Tate.
I can’t help it. I throw my head back and laugh—this
fucking idiot comes into my office and tries to convince me that she’s fucking
cheating on me.
With her brother.
He obviously doesn’t do his homework.

“I know they had a thing,” he insists, not pleased
with my laughter. “He came after me and tried to kill me. If I wouldn’t have
gotten away I would be dead.”

I smile at how much fear Tate has instilled into
him. So, I’m going to use it to my advantage. “I know what they…are,” I decide
to say with a careless flick of my wrist. Which is the truth—no one else knows
but me. “And you would be smart to stay the hell out of his or my way,” I
threaten as I take a step toward him.

His eyes bug out. “She is cheating on you; the
bitch was probably cheating on me with that bastard too.”

I shove him into my desk and wrap my hand around
his throat. “Just shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you are talking about
and do
not
call her a bitch.” I tighten my hand, and he squirms trying
to get free. “You were fucking around on her so why does it matter if she was
fucking around on you?” I lower my voice. “It’s definitely none of your fucking
concern who she fucks now.”

I let go and step back from him, straightening my
suit jacket. He takes in a few deep breaths rubbing his neck. “Get the fuck out
of here. And I won’t tell you to leave her the fuck alone again.”

He storms past me knocking his shoulder into mine
before throwing my door open and running out.

“You okay?” Rose inquires, looking into my office.
Her eyes get bigger as she takes in the mess on the floor from the papers I
knocked off my desk.

“I’m fine.” I walk behind my desk and plop down in
my chair.

“Let me help you,” she offers, walking in.

I place my hand up. “That’s not necessary, Rose.
Thank you though.”

She stands there for a few seconds wanting to
argue, but I dismiss her with a wave of my hand.

After I hear the sound of my door clicking shut, I
grab the mug that held my morning coffee and throw it at the wall. “Fuck,” I
hiss loudly as it shatters.

Shaking my head and breathing heavy, I try to calm
down. What the fuck am I going to have to do to get him to stay away from her?
I can understand why he wants her. Who wouldn’t, but the question is why all of
a sudden? Why after four months does he want her back?

As I sit at my desk with my head in my hands, I
come up with nothing. And it makes me uneasy. The bastard has to have some sort
of plan, and I need to figure it out.

I pull out my phone and call Tate.

“I just can’t make sense of it,” I grind out as I
look at the pieces of the broken coffee mug that are scattered across the floor
of my office.

“So he thinks I’m dating Sam?” he asks slowly.

“What else would he think? There’s nothing for him
to piece together. He’s coming up with the most logic answer,” I growl as I
pick up the picture of us at our first Rams game. The damn frame broke.

“Well, I did tell him I was her boyfriend when I
beat the shit out of him,” he admits with no remorse.

“You did?” I’m not surprised.

“Of course. How else was I going to terrify him
enough? I needed him to stay away from her.”

“Smart.” I’ve never been happier knowing that Tate
secretly stalked us.

He sighs. “Maybe he will be too afraid to come
around now,” he offers.

“Doubtful,” I mutter placing the broken frame on my
desk. “I think he’s growing bigger balls. He did just show up at my work.”