Outlaw (Wolves of Royal Paynes #4) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,23
mother.
Rebecca reminded me a lot of Hallie. We hadn't spoken face to face much, but she was a nurturer through and through. She also demanded the same level of respect as Rebecca had—though Rebecca never had any trouble getting it from me. I'd been an obedient child, and later, when I had gotten sassy, it hadn't been with Rebecca. Only Diesel.
I gave my entire life over to that man and as a result was grossly unprepared for how horrible the world actually was. Maybe if I'd known there was evil—if he'd explained to me the nature of cruelty—maybe then landing in Pierce's clutches wouldn't have come as such a shock. I wouldn't have been so ill-equipped.
"I need to go somewhere." The moment the thought had formed, it rushed from my mouth.
The others were sitting scattered on a huge blanket that Sitka had laid out under Storri's instruction. The stares pointed my way varied from hurt to confused.
"Not right now," I rushed to clarify. "But, if I did need to go somewhere, how do I make that happen?" In the old pack, traveling off pack lands would've been as easy as asking a pack member to drive me. Or it would have been that easy if anyone but Diesel had ever taken me anywhere.
"Um…" Jazz looked to the others, giving me my answer.
I decided to spare him the discomfort. "I have to ask Diesel, don't I?"
Jazz winced away from my tone, making me feel like a jerk.
I'd have to talk to the man at some point. I knew this Diesel was the real Diesel, and the other Diesels were Pierce's twisted recreations, but when I got around him, a tornado of emotions swirled inside me. There were the old feelings of joy and attraction—as much as I wanted to deny those feelings were still there—mixed with new feelings of fear and revulsion at the things I'd seen him do. And covering all of that was a betrayal so thick I could wear it as a winter coat.
I didn't know how to be around him, what to feel. Everyone surely wanted the old Quinlan back, me just as I had been, but that person didn't exist. "I'm going to ask. I'll be right back."
There was no use dragging out the task. If I waited too long, I'd only lose my nerve.
I kept my steps even but strong toward the hotel entrance. The door swung open before I could touch the handle. Jazz had been right, of course. The guys hadn't just been watching through the window, but apparently they'd been listening in as well.
Which meant Diesel, staring down at me with that searching gaze that soured my stomach, knew exactly what I was here to ask.
"So? Can I?"
My wraiths narrowed into thick black ropes that wound up my arms. Diesel's gaze tightened as it flicked to them. "Can you what?" he asked without looking back up at my eyes. He kept staring at the wraiths in their endless movement.
He'd been listening in. He already knew what I wanted to ask. I rolled my eyes.
A sharp growl cracked from inside his chest. The sound shot through my gut, making a sharp turn toward my dick. Pierce had never had Diesel make that sound. Probably because Pierce didn't know how to make that sound.
My throat convulsed as I attempted to swallow down my arousal. I knew he could smell it. I'd used that little fact shamelessly when I was younger. Somehow, Diesel knowing that he'd aroused me without hardly trying felt like a failure on my part. Like I was giving in, bowing beneath him.
"I. Want. To. Go. To. The. Old. Pack. Lands." I spoke as fast as cold syrup poured, carving each word out of my mouth like I thought Diesel was either hard of hearing or extremely dimwitted.
"That isn't a question," he snarled.
Now I was glad Diesel had met me at the door. If I'd had to go in, meet with him in a narrow, enclosed space, like the corridor, this contact would've been too much. As it was, I was still outside, where my wraiths and the open air around me kept me from feeling too pinned down by this man. He shouldn't have been able to do this to me anymore. I wasn't the same person.
I bit down hard on my lower lip. "Fine, I'll ask Knox."
"Goddamnit, Quinlan!" Diesel cried out, wrenching my arm—technically, the wraiths that had covered my arm—back from my forward trajectory.