Addictive (Houston Defiance MC #2) - K.E. Osborn Page 0,58

said. Mental gymnastics, remember? Focus on something else to stop the urge while you’re pounding it out. Find something in the room that’s blue or some shit. Focus on that, and let your mind only concentrate on whatever’s blue, and not the urge to choke the living shit out of the woman you’re banging.”

I glance down at the copious pages of notes the club-approved therapist provided me with. “Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right. I’ll book another appointment.”

Zero grinned. “Good! Let’s go, fucker.”

All that work I did with the therapist, the months of hard work, I thought I had it all under control. I was sure until the first night I lost control with Prinie. All it took was for one moment, a loss of concentration, to fuck up years of therapy. I lost my focus, I forgot everything I was trained to do.

I forgot about my something blue, and I fucking choked her during sex. The problem is, every time I’m with her, I have to fight to remember my training. She makes me lose focus, and that’s why she fucking scares me.

I didn’t want to test the theory on whether that version of Wraith was going to make an appearance with Prinie again.

But then I did, and he did.

I won’t risk that again, she deserves better.

Someone who can make love to her. Someone who can be the man she needs them to be. Not a man who only knows how to fuck and with that insatiable need in me to put my hands around her neck.

The memory of our kiss plays over and over on repeat in my brain, distracting me from the task at hand. All I want is to find Prinie and to kiss the fuck out of her again, but that accomplishes nothing. Plus, with me bailing on her like that last night, she’s going to be pissed as all hell at me. Again.

We were making progress, and I went and screwed that all up.

I should have pulled away.

I should have never let her near me.

Who am I kidding? Seeing her coming at me like that, I had no damn choice but to react.

She’s my fucking kryptonite.

“Pres?”

I don’t know what the fuck I ever did to make that beautiful woman want me.

“Wraith?”

My head snaps up as I take in the room of ‘very green’ bikers all staring back at me. “What?”

“You’re acting more hungover than us,” Chains jabs.

“Fuck!” I scrub at my face trying to pull myself back into the world, and not off in some fairy tale land where I know the ending is not a happily-ever-after. “Didn’t sleep much last night—”

“You okay?” Neon asks, concern crossing his features.

“I’m fine. Talk to me.”

Neon slumps back in his chair. “I just finished telling you everything, Wraith. You sure you’re okay?”

“Quit your bitchin’ and tell me again.”

Neon glances at Fox, then back to me. Something unspoken passes between them, and I don’t even have to guess what it is—I’ll be getting a visit from Fox later.

Neon’s eyes focus back on me, he swipes his device, then holds it up for me to see. “As I was saying… I’ve been following the trackers. They’ve been traveling in downtown Houston. Well, three of them are still pinging. One, however, is not.” I furrow my brows at this information. “I’m not sure if it’s a technical glitch or if it’s been separated from the pack and has been found. Either way, the three remaining are heading for Militia territory.”

Scratching my temple, I narrow my eyes. “First, you thought this was the Baron stealing the packages, but now you’re telling me this might be the Militia?”

Neon grimaces. “Could it be both?”

I sit forward pulling my hands together into tight fists. “You’re telling me that even after the Militia came to our aid to help Cherry out of the shit that went down with the Baron, they may have been working with him the entire time, so they can steal from us?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past them. Hell, we played them when Zero offered a cut of the Snow White tablets. They assumed they’re getting a fair cut of what we’re supposedly producing, but we’re making double that, and getting a fuckload more than they know about. So, we can’t judge them for double-crossing us when we’re already doing exactly that to them,” Neon reminds me.

“True. But I need to be sure before we act. The Baron, the Militia, either, both, whatever the outcome, we have to make sure before we go