1,2,3,4,5 counting was my thing I knew how many steps it took for the seedy men to arrive at my door, I knew how many steps it took to reach work, and now I know how many steps it takes for the boy with the dragon tattoo to reach me to wrap me in his arms and kiss me like he requires me to breath.
Broken and loaded with such body numbing anxiety and panic attacks I shake like a leaf. I hide behind a thick veil of midnight black hair. He showed me that love happens even in the dark.
His name is Ghost and is the VP to the Reapers Reign MC he’s dark and has demons that rival mine own deep dark secrets he saw more than the broken girl who lives on the 6th floor of the hell that I call home in Queens.
I’m completely unhinged. The Reapers Reign use me as their in-house tormenter. I love to cut and dice, oh let’s not forget burn. My weapons of choice is a switchblade. Throw in a blow torch for good measure cause well why the hell not? Falling in love with me is not a fucking option, I’m the devil in a tattooed body. I’m unstable, dark, a fucken unhinged lunatic. I keep all women at arm’s length. I have not encountered one yet that can handle the dark I occupy, the anger I possess. I have a dangerous desire for pain and blood, and well some get a tad squeamish.
That was until I laid eyes on Timberly Roe.