What happened next was something I would have never, ever imagined. The kind of knock-you-on-your-ass shock. Life threw me one hell of a fucking curveball, and the woman I loved was the very one to pitch it.
After trying my best to comfort Kim, I felt terrible that I had to leave her with some of the other club women so that I could go get ready for Parents Night. Although my principal had assured me that it would be all right for me to miss it, I wanted to go. Even before Deacon’s resurrection, I had planned to be there for my students and their parents.
A quick shower later, I stood in front of Deacon’s chest of drawers, putting on my underwear. The shrill ring of my phone caught me off guard, causing me to jump. But when I glanced down at the ID, a stone-cold dread rocketed through me. With trembling hands, I picked up the phone. “H-hello?” I croaked.
“Miss Evans, your time is up. I want the cut. Tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I assume that means you got it.”
“Yes, I did.”
At my hesitation, Sigel asked, “Then what is the problem?”
“The only thing is it’s Parents Night at my school. I’ve promised my principal I would be there.”
“That won’t be a problem at all.”
“It won’t?”
“No. In fact, I think it works better than any plan I had in mind. I had already anticipated meeting you somewhere there was a crowd—somewhere your Raiders brothers couldn’t try retaliation without incriminating themselves. A school full of parents and children is positively brilliant.”
His voice made my skin crawl. “You promise that no one will get hurt?”
“Miss Evans, it hurts me that you doubt my sincerity. Besides, like the Raiders, I don’t want to do anything that would bring attention to me from the authorities. I would think shooting up a school would rank pretty high on the list of having the police and ATF on my ass.”
“If you say so.”
“Go on and perform like a good show pony. I’ll call you with the location within the school to meet me.”
He ended the call. As I pulled the phone from my ear, I stared down at it. Although I’d known this day was coming and coming soon, nothing compared to actually having the wolf outside the door. When you devise a plan, it always seems good in theory. Sure, you might experience some what-ifs, but in your mind, it gets executed flawlessly.
Yesterday when I asked Rev and Bishop to teach me how to use a knife, I’d had ulterior motives. While I wanted to learn how to protect myself, my real motive was much darker. On the way back to the compound, a sinister thought from the dark side of my psyche began to push and shove its way into the front of my mind.
I had stood before a mental scale of justice and weighed Sigel’s sins. He had taken two of the most important people in my life away. He had almost killed my brother. At that time, I’d thought he had killed the man I loved, but instead, he had killed the president of his club.
As long as Sigel breathed, he would be a threat to Willow, Charlie, and to me. Now that Deacon wasn’t out of the picture, as Sigel thought, he would finally have the showdown that they had been building toward. I didn’t want to face that reality again so soon after having him back. I wanted to save Willow from the fate of being an orphan.
Sigel had to die.
And I was going to kill him.
Tonight I would continue to be Willow’s protector and then my parents’ avenger by taking justice into my own hands.
Clutching the phone, I didn’t hear Deacon come into the bedroom. The sound of his voice caused me to jump. “Who was that?”
“Oh, just Uncle Jimmy,” I answered.
“Is he wanting us to come get Willow ASAP because she’s driving him crazy?”
I laughed. “No, nothing like that.” After I set the phone down on the chest of drawers, I asked, “Your meeting go okay?”
“Well, it did up until I found out you’d lied to me.”
My hand froze as I reached to pull my skirt off the chair. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“I found out from Rev and Bishop that more happened in your meeting with Sigel than you told me.”
I swallowed hard. Frantically, I searched my mind for a way to defuse the potentially volatile situation I found myself in. “Oh, that,” I replied, with a flippant wave of my hand.
“Yeah, that.”
Turning toward him, I sighed. “I’m sorry, Deacon. I’d just gotten you back. I wanted to enjoy the time I had with you, not have you getting needlessly angry. There was nothing malicious or calculated in what I did.”
Lies. All lies.
Deacon’s accusing gaze turned over to one of hunger. He seemed to appreciate my lacy black and pink panty and bra set. In that fraction of a second, I knew what I had to do. “You’re looking at me like you want to devour me,” I said in a throaty whisper.
“I do.”
“Mmm, maybe I should give you a quickie. Whet your appetite a little until I can get back.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Get on the bed,” I commanded.
Deacon’s brows shot up at my authoritative tone. “Excuse me?”
“Just taking the reins, cowboy. I need to top you so I don’t mess my hair up.”
He grinned. “Just don’t forget who’s the real boss around here.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that one.”
When he flopped back on the bed, I took a shaky step forward. With trembling fingers, I opened the nightstand drawer. Instead of taking out one of the gold foil packets, I grabbed the handcuffs that we’d played with at the Lounge.
Swinging them around my fingers, I winked at him. “Let’s play a little cowboy and bad cop together.”
Deacon’s eyes widened. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
I shrugged. “Just glad to have you back—that’s all. Got a lot of fantasies to enact together.”
“If you say so, babe,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Raise your arms.” He hastily complied by bringing his arms over his head. His hands reached out for the intricately designed rails in the iron bed. It was now or never. Once I handcuffed Deacon, there was no going back with him or with Sigel. Deacon held up a code of loyalty and honesty, and I was breaking that. I wasn’t sure he could ever forgive me for what I was about to do.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I was looking into the eyes of the man I loved with all my heart for the last time with love between us. I was standing on the tracks, staring down a runaway train.