Black Skulls (Bloody Black Skulls MC #2) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bloody Black Skulls MC Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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This was it. He was going to fucking kill me.

“Amelia, baby, wake up.” Someone shook me. “Come on, wake up.”

I gasped, my eyes flying open. My eyes met Cole’s immediately. He was holding me on his lap, his hand on my neck. It wasn’t tight, and I’m sure it was supposed to be comforting, but I still panicked.

I slapped his hand away and jumped off his lap, running a hand through my hair. I walked into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Fuck, I hoped these nightmares stopped fast. I couldn’t get this shit out of my head. It wasn’t even flashbacks that I was experiencing. It was fucking shit that my mind was conjuring up on its own.

“Are you okay?” I heard Cole’s deep, timber voice ask me.

I looked over to where I heard his voice come from and found him leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. “Fuck, Cole, I can’t fucking do this,” I muttered, shaking my head. I was lost, confused, and so fucking tired.

And broken. I felt . . . broken.

He raised a brow at me. “Do what? Do you want to go back? I’m not going to fucking let you. Those bastards—”

I cut him short, my temper finally letting loose. I was pissed. I couldn’t deal with the card that had been dealt to me. I didn’t deserve any of the shit that I was being forced to deal with.

“No!” I yelled. “That’s not what I fucking mean!” I paused and pressed my fingers against my temples. “For fuck’s sake, Cole, all I’ve ever done is try to do what was best for the fucking clubs. The only fucking payment I get is for everyone, including my own fucking parents, to allow me to receive the worst end of the stick, the fucking stick that’s meant to hurt the whole damn club.”

He stepped toward me, his mouth open to speak, but I cut him off by holding my hand up. “Don’t. I’m not done. This shit that I’ve been dealing with—it’s building up way too fucking much. I push it off, not wanting to deal with it, because the club relies on me to be strong, but Cole, I can’t be strong anymore.” My voice broke. “Fuck, it hurts so damn much. All of the horror I’ve been through is catching up to me. I’ve never had nightmares before; I’ve always been able to block out everything that I didn’t want to deal with, but now—now it’s catching up to me, and I’m getting all of these fucking nightmares that are terrifying the shit out of me—"

Cole looked pained at my speech. “Amelia, I never expected you to be strong.” He shook his head. “Jesus, the only thing that I‘ve ever wanted from you was for you to let go of everything and to vent and to deal with the shit that you’ve been through, but you always pull back from me. You had to get away from there, so I did what was necessary to get you away from there because if you’re there, you’re going to continue to drink it all away and not deal with it. I know you.”

I clenched my fists and slammed them on the bathroom counter. “I don’t want to have to deal with it, Cole!” Fuck, my mind was all over the place. I was confused. I didn’t know what I wanted or needed. I just knew that I didn’t want this bullshit card that I had been dealt.

I was tired. I was angry. I was sad. I was feeling too damn much, and it was twisting me up inside.

“It doesn’t matter if you want to deal with it or not, Amelia. It has to be dealt with, or it’s just going to continue to get worse and worse, which will just generate more problems.”

Problems?! I have fucking problems?!

“What the fuck are you trying to say?!” I yelled at him. “I don’t have fucking problems, Cole!”

“The hell you don’t,” he retorted, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I could see the visible struggle on his face not to yell back at me. “You have problems like no other person I know. You have so much shit to deal with. You’ve been raped and beaten too many damn times, and it’s not fucking fair to you. You’re traumatized, Amelia, and you’re not willing to face it.” He took another step closer to me. “Dammit, though, I will fucking make you deal with this shit if it’s the last goddamn thing that I do, Amelia. You’ve got to deal. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I immediately started crying. Fuck, I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t cut out for this kind of shit. I could handle getting messages across to other clubs through damage like nobody’s business, but when it came to shit happening to me, I couldn’t fucking cope with it.



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