Grave (Royal Devils MC #1) - Erin Trejo Page 0,8
her wrist and twist it until she drops the knife to the floor.
“Stupid bastard!” she screams. The awkward angle we’re at gives her an advantage. She raises her knee and slams it into my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I huff out a breath and step back as she comes at me again. Her hands fly through the air, her eyes locked with mine. She’s pissed. No, she is beyond pissed.
“How long did you think you could play this game?” she yells as she comes at me again. Her right fist connects with my jaw as I smirk at her. I’ll let her have her little fit for now but only because it’s been far too long since I’ve had actual contact with a human being. I haven’t touched a bitch in months, so I welcome this assault with open arms.
“You done yet?” I ask when she steps back to take a breath.
“Not even close,” she growls with her teeth gritted. Fuck, she is sexy as hell like that. It takes one time, just one time of my eyes roaming over her body for her to come back after me. That’s when I have enough. Grabbing her around the waist, I spin us both, pinning her to the wall. My hands move to grab her wrists, hoisting them above her head as my body keeps hers pressed against the wall. When I look down into her eyes, there’s something different there. Yeah, this is way different. I look at her, really look at her when I see it.
“How long?” I ask with a small smirk on my face.
“Lying bastard.”
“How long has your memory been back? Amy.” I say the name I gave her in a condescending tone just to get a rise out of her. She bucks her hips trying to get me off her, but it doesn’t work.
“I waited. I wanted to see how long you’d keep up your little lying game. You are so stupid,” she hisses. I lower my head, so my face is closer to hers.
“Am I? I saved your ass. I could have left you there to bleed the fuck out, but I didn’t.”
“Oh, you want to be known as a hero?”
“I’m no one’s hero, sweetheart. How long have you known?” I ask once more, pressing into her a little harder now.
“Almost two weeks. Some things are still a little fuzzy,” she admits, looking away from me. I put both her small wrists into one of my hands and grab her face with the other. Jerking her head so she’s looking at me once more, I look her in the eyes.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why would I? I’m living it up in this roach motel,” she says with a smirk. My hand slips from her face down to her neck, squeezing lightly. She doesn’t move or try to fight me. No, she stares back at me like she’s used to this kind of treatment and that alone grabs my interest.
“You aren’t afraid of me,” I say as a statement.
“Not in the slightest.”
“Why is that?” I ask curiously enough.
“Why would I be? You are a nobody compared to what my father is.” Those words have me releasing her but not out of fear. No, it’s out of curiosity.
“What’s your name?”
“Silla.”
“Short for?”
“Short for nothing. Just Silla. My parents were idiots. I always thought it was short for Priscilla but nope. Just Silla.”
“So what? You know who you are now, why are you still here?” She turns to the dresser, grabs a cigarette and lights it up before turning to look back at me.
“I’ve heard you on the phone.”
“And?” I chuckle as I walk past her and grab the bottle of Vodka off the small table.
“And I want to know what it is you do.”
“Yeah, I bet you would. Not happenin’, sweetheart. I have no fuckin’ clue who you are and tellin’ someone my business? That’s a shitstorm waitin’ to happen.”
“Who shot you?” My eyes move to hers now and hold there.
“No one.”
“Those dreams of yours don’t sound like no one. In fact, they sound like someone close to you.” If she’s trying to piss me off, she’s doing a great job. I take another pull from the bottle before setting it on the table and motioning for her to come closer. She does and when she’s within reach, I grab her and pull her into my lap. My cock jumps just as she sits, and I know she can feel it. I let my lips