Painful Love (Kings of Aces #2)

by T. Ashleigh

“Lemme guess, he used the word psycho?” Sigh, don’t they all?

“You know I don’t like sayin’...

“Nearly smacked him.” “He doesn’t mean it in a bad way,” I say, scratching my chin as I think over Fox’s words. “I guess I can a...

Whaley?” All the blood drains from my face, and I take a long toke. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” “Bunk, it’s me.” He nudges my leg. “When have you kept secrets?”

“Wait?” I shoot up, nearly knocking him in the forehead, and burning myself with my joint. “How the fuck do you know about Whaley?”

“You don’t think the pictures of him in your closet kind of tip it off?”

“I can explain,” I rush out, scrambling off the bed, setting my joint in the ashtray and try to hide the evidence of Whaley. “It’s nothin’.”

“Sure, because I have a stalker board up in my room too.”

“It’s not a stalker board,” I hiss after slamming my closet door shut. “It’s just⁠—”

“Proof that you’ve got an unhealthy obsession with the guy?” he finishes, head tilted as he waits for me to confirm.

“And you fucked?” “Jesus,” I moan, flopping back on the bed. “Fucked me so good, I⁠—”

“What’s so wrong with Whaley?”

“He’s perfect.”

“Whaley… Guy’s messed up, Bunk. Got a lot of skeletons in his closet. Again, I respect him, but I don’t think you know what you’re gettin’ into.” “Apparently nothing at the moment,” I fire back, and snag my joint again. “Claims he doesn’t want me. But he just won’t give in.”

“Can you tell me what you like about him?”

don’t like him,” I clarify, sitting up quickly to look at him in astonishment. ‘Like’ seems so insignificant in the face of what my true feelings are.

“I love him.”

No, it's love. Seems less stalkery if you ask me. It’s not like I⁠— Okay, we’ll settle with love and a sprinkle of obsession. “Did you ever consider that’s why you shouldn’t be together?”

“What do you mean?” “Fuck, be careful,” he

“You’re both fucked,” he explains, wisely scooching back when I crush the lit joint in my fist, not even blinking as it burns my skin. “Damn, calm down. Not tryin’ to be a dick. He’s got shit in his past, and you…”

My friends don’t know about my past—my origin story, as I so villainously put it—but Fox does. I’m pretty sure Badge told him, or maybe I did when I got too toasted one night, either way, he’s in the know.

Crack. Squish. Pop. Is that what a brain looks like? “Bunk!”

dick. “I’m fine.” He raises one brow as he juts his chin toward the pocketknife. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” I confirm, smiling as I give a little cackle and slice the knife in the air. “Let’s put a smile on that face.”

“A broken heart sucks, but you gotta pick yourself up,”

“Ain’t no point lettin’ yourself break for someone. Ain’t no reason to let anyone have that much control over you.”

I’m starting to lose my shit because of him. If we explored this connection between us—if I gave in and caved to

his wishes, he’d destroy me. My demon would break free, tearing everything up in its path that isn’t its obsession.

Fuck, but how incredible that madness would be.

“Told the guy he’d castrate him for suggesting we overcharge for our tire rotations.”

“Did he pull out his pocketknife?”

I. Want. Whaley.

“What the fuck?” Silas asks, letting go of Blaine’s hand. “What’s goin’ on?” “Life fuckin’ sucks!” I yell, digging my hands into my hair as I stomp my feet.

Chai tea lattes.

he’s fighting us. He’d get a free pass to do whatever the fuck he wants with my body and my soul. He could kill me and tear my heart out and I’d thank him for it.

Why can’t I just be normal?

Maybe I can stab someone? Yeah, that would make Whaley stay. He’d be like ‘Oh shit’ and I’d be all ‘Oh yeah’ and then we’d fuck in some blood and cuddle after. Would Whaley cuddle? He doesn’t

seem like the type, but I’d make him. Wrap him up in a koala bear hold so he could never escape me. Or I could show up at his trailer naked as the day I was born, shaking my ass in the air until he took mercy and pounded the brat out of me. That wouldn’t work either though. He wouldn’t buy it no matter how badly I wish he would.

pace around for a bit, fisting my hair. He’s mine. Whaley’s mine. My man. My cock. My soulmate. Nobody else’s.

Stop! Please, don’t! That sets me off. That young, airy voice. That memory. Crack. Squish. Pop.

pound my fists against the wall and the pain tethers me but only a little bit. I need something else—crave something else. I don’t quite know what that is, but I know that this isn’t enough.

I’ll toy with his bike.

do a little villainous cackle as I make my way to it. It’s locked behind a special garage door that only he has the passcode to. Well, him and me. I totally stalked him one day to get it, and I’m glad I did because the perfect opportunity has presented itself. If this doesn’t show how serious about him I am, then I don’t know what will.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” I freeze. Oh, shit.

He’s so fucking edible, I swear. I could slather him in chocolate and have a feast. I’m momentarily caught off guard by the fact that he’s wearing nothing more than a white tank and a pair of jeans, showcasing all his beautiful tattoos and those thick thighs I want to wrap my legs around while he plows into me.

“I can explain,” I say softly, but the need to poke at him is too strong. “I’ve been very very bad.”

“Bunky…” he growls, stalking...

“You don’t fuck with a man’s bike.” I gasp when he grips the back of my head, then I shamelessly moan when he digs his hand into my hair, hard. Fuck, yes. My hips rock in the air,...

because no way in hell am I watching Bunky tear apart my bike through the security camera. My goddamn baby.

What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” The words leave me in a roar, so loud it reverberates off all the concrete walls and sounds like a demon awakening. Pretty accurate actually. Bunky spins around, eyes wide, but I can still see the stubbornness lingering there.

I’m past that point, and all I want is to taste blood. Bunky’s blood.