Surviving Storm (Kings Reapers MC Book 7)

by Nicola Jane

  I snatch his hand in mine and bend it backwards. He yelps. “Don’t put your hands on me again,” I snarl.

  “Fuck,” hisses Lottie. “Fine, we’ll talk.” She stomps off towards the exit, and I follow.

  It’s freezing outside, but she folds her arms and glares at me. “Make it quick.”

  “I’m sorry for what I did,” I begin.

  “For getting blind drunk? For turning up at my job two nights running? For sleeping with someone the first chance you got?”

  I sigh. “All of the above. Technically, we’d had sex a few times, but we weren’t really official so—” Her eyes widen, and I realise I ain’t making the situation any better. “I fucked up. More than once. I’m sorry, okay.”

  She shrugs. “Okay.”

  I smile with relief. “That’s it? We’re all good?”

  She nods, pulling the door open to head back inside. “Yep. Enjoy the rest of the night.”

  “I mean, are we good, me and you?” I ask, following her inside.

  “Yes,” she repeats.

  I take her wrist, turning her to face me, hardly believing it was that easy. I pull her towards me, and she frowns, placing her hands against my chest and stepping back. “Oh, you meant are we okay as in carrying on from where we left off?” she asks, and I nod. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. “Then, no, baby. We ain’t fine.”

  LOTTIE

  I grin at Raven. “You are a star,” I say.

  “It was Anna who brought them over,” she says. I stare at the foil balloons Storm brought for me earlier today, like balloons can make it better. The fact he even thought they could makes this revenge all the more sweeter. “You want them onstage?” she asks.

  I nod. “Yes, please, all part of the set.”

  As I pass the music tech guy, I hand him a note with my new song choice. He grins, shrugging and tapping the song title into his laptop. Once out onstage, Demi Lovato’s “Sorry Not Sorry” begins to play, and I smile as I start to move to the music.

  I have Storm’s full attention, and he must be wondering why I’ve put the balloons onstage. He’s standing at the front, watching me move, looking mad as hell with each word that Demi sings. I lip sync the words, which only causes him to look more and more annoyed. Taking a balloon from the bunch, I move sexily down the steps and towards the crowd, handing it to a woman sitting near the front. I proceed to hand out the balloons one by one, smirking each time I pass him.

  As the song comes to an end, I take the last balloon and move towards Storm. His ice-cold stare burns into me as I place my hand on his shoulder and move against him. The last words echo around the room, and I grip the foil balloon, turning away from him and pushing my arse against his groin. I dig my nails into the foil hard, until it pops, then I drop the deflated globe by his feet, take a bow, and head back onto the stage, feeling satisfied with my little performance. Fuck Storm.

  I sit in the change room, slowly wiping off the layers of makeup that hide the marks on my arms. I always cover them before a performance because there’s always one ass wanting to point them out or ask questions. I run a finger over the angry red welts. The newer ones are still healing, and I gently press my nail against the join. It splits easily and I watch the crimson bubble surface. When the door opens with a bang, I jump in fright and hide my arm behind my back. Storm is glaring at me, his nostrils flared and anger pouring from his body. “I’ll take you home,” he growls.

  “I have my car,” I say.

  “Tiny took it,” he mutters, and I grab my bag to search for my car keys. “You took my keys?”

  “Be ready in five minutes,” he snarls, slamming the door closed. My heart beats hard in my chest. I wasn’t expecting to have to get on his bike right after I angered the beast inside of him. Fuck.

  I find him leaning against his bike. “Don’t do that again,” I say coldly. “Don’t take my things without my permission.”

  “Are you proud of your performance tonight?” He sneers.

  I nod. “I made plenty of money, so I think there were a lot of people pleased with my performance.”

  He throws his leg over his bike and pushes his helmet on. I take the spare and do the same. “I’m gonna sit back and let you do this,” he says, his voice crackling through the speaker in the helmet. “Because I can’t let you go.”

  “Are we forgetting about the whore in your bed this morning?” I snap. “You think you can give me your blessing like I need it? Get your head from up your arse.”

  I hear his growl as he turns the bike into oncoming traffic. Cars screech, beeping their horns, and I grip onto him and squeeze my eyes closed. When I reopen them, I see he’s driving in the opposite direction from the clubhouse. “Storm, what are you doing?”

  “Doing what I’ve been wanting to do for days.”

  We stop at Storm’s favourite place—the caravan. I shove my helmet against his chest. “This is crazy.”

  “We’re staying here until you hear me out. I deserve a second chance.”

  I scoff at his boldness. “Who the hell do you think you are? The king? I decide if you get a second chance with me, not you!”

  He grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me towards the caravan. I try to pull free, but his grip is strong, and even though I drag my feet, I end up in the caravan with him. He locks the door and stands in front of it while I look around at the empty bottles. “Party for one, was it?”

  “I was here alone, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says bluntly.

  “Like I trust your word.” I scoff, sitting down.

  “Ask me anything,” he says desperately. “I’ll answer all your questions.” I eye him suspiciously. There’s so much I want to know about him, but now doesn’t feel right to ask. I’m here against my will, and he’s acting crazy. I pull out my phone, and he snatches it from my grasp. “No phones.”

  “Storm, you’re starting to freak me out,” I mutter as he shoves it into a lockable cupboard.

  “Seb’s mum died.”

  I suck in a breath as Storm takes a seat. “My real name is Jaxon Michaels. They call me Storm because I go in full-on. I just storm on in there. Like I’ve done with you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me this,” I mutter. “It won’t change anything.”

  “She died when he was still small. She had cervical cancer. It was quick—they told us and a month later, she was gone. She hadn’t even started treatment. She had died the same day Seb had his diagnosis for autism, and I was so pissed. I thought it was something we did to him, and I walked out in anger. Everything was going to shit and I lost control. I hate not having control, so I went off and I drank. I got so shitfaced because I wanted it all to go away. When I came back, she was gone. Just like that.”

  My heart aches for him, and I reach across the table, gently placing my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  “I can’t sit here and tell you Lucy meant nothing. She was my world, and I loved her so hard. Losing her was the most painful thing I ever went through and I’m barely out alive. I started drinking more after that. Taya had to come in and take over with Seb cos I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know fuck all about sensory overload or meltdowns. That was her thing, she knew all that shit. I didn’t know why he’d only fucking eat certain chicken nuggets or why the fuck he wouldn’t just . . . stop . . . screaming. He’d cry all the time, and I’d lock myself in my room so I didn’t have to watch him fall apart. He wanted her too, and I couldn’t bring her back for him, for us. Taya couldn’t get help for him with the medical services and shit, and since I wasn’t around and Lucy was dead, she had me sign papers to take custody of him. It was best for Seb at the time.”

  “She’s done great with him. Seb’s an amazing kid.”

  “Then I met Laura. Things got better for a while, but she didn’t like me drinking. She hated my possessive streak, and wouldn’t listen to why I tracked her phone or turned up where she was. She saw it as stalking, while I saw it as love because I
wanted back what I had with Lucy. Lucy was like me. She liked that I loved her so much, and maybe people were right, maybe it was toxic—the fights, the drama—but it worked for us. Then she was gone, and those same behaviours wouldn’t work with Laura, so she eventually kicked me out, said I was too full-on. She got a restraining order after she met her new guy, and he couldn’t deal with me calling her and checking in.”

  “And you still contact her?” I ask.

  He nods. “Every time I drink. Sometimes when I’m sober. I’m a fucking mess.”

  “You’re heartbroken, Storm. It’s not your fault.”

  “When I drink, I try to forget. It’s not an excuse, but taking the club girl to my bed was a way to forget. I’m sorry I fucked up.”

  I pull my hand back. “Thanks for sharing. I get it, I really do, but I have my own shit to deal with and I’m not strong enough to deal with yours too.”

  He nods, avoiding my eyes. “As long as you know I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to spill my life story, but I hold it in. He needs to talk, and he needs me to listen. My heart is too torn to let him in with all his emotional baggage. And I know, just from how I feel after a few weeks of knowing him, that I’ll fall madly in love and it’ll only end one way—me with a blade and him with a bottle.

  Chapter Eight

  STORM

  I feel lighter. Telling someone else I’m a mess makes it easier to deal with. Lottie didn’t judge me or look at me with pity. I took her back to the clubhouse as soon as we’d cleared the air, and we’re speaking again. It’s all I wanted.

  The next morning, Taya leaves Seb with me again. She also seems happier, and I wonder what she’s doing when she’s away from us. I watch Seb run around with Bently nipping at his heels. He loves the dog, and Lottie agreed to come for a walk around the yard with us.

  “You’re wearing long sleeves,” I say, nodding to her covered arms.

  She gives an uneasy smile and pulls them down over her hands. “So?”

  “You haven’t worn them since your last hospital visit.”

  “I feel chilly today.” She shrugs.

  “Or you cut yourself last night.”

  “I really didn’t. Let’s just enjoy the walk.”

  “Show me,” I say. She stops walking, and I turn to her. “If you haven’t, then show me.” I carefully reach for her arm, and she watches as I begin to roll up her sleeve. Touching her gives me all kinds of thoughts, but I try to dampen those down because this is not the time.

  “Jax . . .” I glance up at the sound of my birth name and frown in confusion as Laura totters towards us in six-inch heels. She takes my breath away, and I drop Lottie’s arm.

  “Laura?” She reaches up and wraps her arms around me, which only confuses me more. “Is everything okay?”

  “I was passing and I remembered you saying you were staying here and—”

  “Passing from Nottingham?” I ask sceptically.

  “Details, details,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “Seb, my darling boy,” she adds, rushing to Seb and kissing him on the head. He pulls away slightly, hating that she touched him without warning. He’ll only let people he’s comfortable around do that. Why wasn’t that ever a warning sign to me before?

  “This your ex?” whispers Lottie, and I nod. “She’s not what I was expecting,” she adds, arching a brow.

  “What were you expecting?”

  “Someone a little less,” she pauses to think of the right word, “trophy wife.”

  Laura is exactly that. I was drawn to her blonde hair and stunning face. Her makeup was always perfectly in place, and she wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but designer. It was refreshing at the time and totally the opposite of what I’d always gone for previously.

  “Can we go for a chat?” asks Laura.

  “I have Seb,” I mutter.

  “Oh, I thought she was the nanny or something,” she says, glaring at Lottie, who laughs and smacks me on the shoulder in a friendly yet hard whack.

  “You go and rekindle your love. I’ll watch Seb.” She walks off before I can object. “Come on, Seb, let’s walk the hound,” she adds a little too joyfully, and Seb claps his hands and runs after Bently.

  “We’re not meant to be near each other,” I say. “What happened to you wanting that?”

  “Things with Tommy and me have ended,” she replies, her eyes fixed to the ground. “I just needed to see you.”

  “So I can help you get over him?” I snap.

  “Don’t be like that, baby,” she says, pouting. “I can have the restraining order cancelled.”

  I cast my eyes to where Lottie and Seb are running around on the grass. “You can’t be here.”

  “I don’t have anyone else,” she wails. “Can’t I at least stay with you for a few nights until I find somewhere else?”

  “What’s wrong with Nottingham?”

  “I’ve outgrown it. I’m here to make a career for myself,” she says. “I’m in contact with a modelling agency.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not sure you staying here is a good idea.”

  “Please, just two nights. I have an interview tomorrow. It’s the least you owe me.”

  “I owe you?” I snap. “I didn’t do anything but love you and look how you repaid me. Tommy is a photographer, so did you use him to get some pictures done?” I’d suspected it at the time, but she always denied it. Now, she gives a sheepish smile.

  “Please, Jax. Just a couple of nights while I get the interview done.”

  “Look, I’ll ask the Pres, but he might say no. I’ve caused him enough drama as it is.”

  “No,” says Riggs firmly.

  “Come on, Pres. Two nights,” I push.

  “Are you stupid?” he snaps. “It could land you in prison. You’re breaking a court order. Why the hell is she here anyway? She thought you were bad enough to get the order, yet she turns to you for help?”

  “She’s got a job interview or some shit. But I feel guilty, I owe her this.”

  “Two nights?” he asks, and I nod. He sighs. “Just two nights. If the cops come, you’re on your own. I’m not bailing your ass out for your own stupidity. She’s in your room, you sleep with her or on the couch, I don’t care. But make sure she doesn’t go snooping around.”

  I smile gratefully. “Thanks, Pres.”

  As I’m heading for the door, he calls me back. His expression is serious. “Look, I agreed to have you here. I heard you were a single dad and that spoke to me. It’s no secret I want to expand the club and new members come with that, but I’ll be honest, you’re causing me more headaches than anyone here right now.” He rubs his forehead. “I like you, Storm. I see myself in you. But you gotta get your shit together. For Seb, for Taya, for yourself, and for the club. And fuck, even for Lottie, if that’s how you wanna play it. Lake won’t let you mess his sister around, and this club’s had way too much drama on that front.”

  I nod. “I hear yah,” I mutter.

  “You hear me, but are you listening, brother? Get it together or you’re gone. I got charters all over crying out for new members, and I’ll move you on.”

  “I’ll sort myself out, I swear on Seb’s life.”

  “One last thing,” he says. “Is Lottie okay? Anna is worried about her.”

  “She will be,” I say.

  LOTTIE

  “Hasn’t he told you about her?” whispers Leia.

  I shake my head and pop another grape in my mouth. Since walking with Seb earlier, he hasn’t left my side, so we’re at the kitchen table colouring pictures of bikes. “All I know is she got an injunction out against him, so I figured that’s the reason he moved here.”

  “I don’t like her,” says Frankie. She slices the onions a little too hard and almost cuts her finger. “Shit,” she hisses.

  “You don’t even know her,” says Raven. “She looks nice enough.”

  “Is she club material?” asks Fran
kie, arching her brow doubtfully. “I think not.”

  “You said that about me,” Anna points out.

  “Different circumstances,” says Frankie. “Riggs is my son, so I have a duty to hate all new women in his life. And actually, I really liked you. I was just worried about your ex.”

  “But my point is, everyone deserves a chance. She might be really nice, and she might fit in just right,” says Raven.

  Leia offers me a sympathetic smile. “Just what you need to hear, right,” she whispers, and I return the smile. I can’t complain. I told Storm straight I can’t deal with his shit right now, so he’s free and single.

  “Well, Riggs said she ain’t stopping long. Storm asked for two nights. She’s got an audition for a modelling job,” says Anna.

  “She’s moving to London?” I blurt out, and all eyes fall to me.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a one-off job?” says Anna.

  “It doesn’t matter either way. You’re over him, remember?” Leia snaps. “He treated you like crap.”

  “I know,” I mutter. “I’m just not quite at the ‘let his ex move in’ stage yet.”

  The kitchen door opens, and Laura walks in. We all fall silent and busy ourselves as she looks around the room. “Storm told me to come in here and introduce myself,” she says.

  “We know who you are,” snaps Frankie.

  Anna stands. “Frankie,” she hisses. “Hi, I’m Anna.”

  “I’m Leia, this is Lottie, and that’s Raven.” We all offer a small smile as Leia introduces us.

  “And the miserable bag in the corner is Frankie,” jokes Anna.

  “I’m just wondering why you turned up here when you’re not allowed to be around Storm,” Frankie blurts out.

  “Stop,” hisses Anna, glaring wide-eyed at her.

  “It’s fine,” says Laura. “Storm was obsessed. He was following me and being over the top. My boyfriend at the time encouraged me to go for the restraining order, but I wish I hadn’t. It was a huge mistake.”