UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8)

by Hayley Faiman

  “You fuck with me,” I admit.

  “You fuck with me, too, Dylan,” she exhales.

  I hum, kissing down her throat and stopping at the hollow, sucking there and enjoying the way her breathing changes. I shouldn’t be here, I should turn around and walk away. I can’t. Seeing Mamba walk out of this room after being alone with her, I’m not sure I could ever see another man claim her.

  Mamba and Pinkie are fucking right. She’s mine. Meant for me, even if she’s too fucking good for me. I will go crazy if I don’t keep her for myself. The only saving grace is that I don’t feel manic when it comes to Pamela. I feel the exact opposite, I feel calm when I’m near her.

  “Please,” she whispers.

  Lifting my head, I tip my chin down and look into her eyes. “Please, what?”

  She doesn’t say anything right away, her eyes search mine and there’s something wrong, something different in the way she looks at me. I wonder if she’s done, if she’s over me already. I know she’s young and sometimes the young girls that come in and out of here can be fickle, but I didn’t think she could be.

  I thought she was different. I thought she would attach herself to me and hold on tightly. Stupidly, I thought that she would never think twice, that she would stay beside me without a second thought, grateful for the chance to be an Old Lady someday.

  Gripping her hair tighter in my fist, a different kind of anger fills me. She whimpers at the way I pull at her scalp, but I can’t help myself. I can’t stop myself. I can’t go through a Della situation again, I can’t let myself go there.

  “Please don’t hurt me, Dylan.”

  My entire body jerks. I release her immediately and I see the moment that she thinks I’m going to walk away. Her face crumples right before my eyes. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair.

  Looking at her, I wonder what she’s thinking. I wish that I could tell her that hurting her is the last thing I ever want to do, but it’ll probably be all that I’ll ever do. Shaking my head, I try to shake the doubt out, but it doesn’t work.

  “Don’t know any other way, Sunny.”

  “What?” she asks.

  She’s confused and I don’t blame her. Clearing my throat, I let my hands drop to my sides, I ball them into fists and watch her. I want to tell her everything, but I won’t. She can’t know it all, if she does, she won’t look at me the way she is looking at me right now.

  “Hurt. I only know how to hurt. Never done anything different.”

  She presses her lips together and shifts her eyes to the side before she brings them back to meet my own. “You know plenty about not hurting people, Dylan. You haven’t hurt Pinkie. She loves you and you love her.”

  My shoulder jerks as an automatic reaction to her words. I’m confused by them. Completely and totally confused. Thankfully, she doesn’t make me ask her what the fuck she’s talking about, instead she tells me.

  “Pinkie told me about her past, a little anyway… enough. Then she praised you, told me how wonderful you are and admitted she loved you. I knew that already though. She says it’s not a romantic thing, but I can tell that you love her too. I don’t understand why you aren’t with her. I just don’t want you to start this with me, then realize that she’s who you really need.”

  I would laugh, but she’s serious. “Babe.” I chuckle, unable to keep a straight face.

  Her eyes widen at my laugh as she looks at me. Fuck, she’s wide-eyed and innocent, she’s fucking perfect.

  “What?”

  Reaching for her, I wrap one arm around her waist, pressing my palm against her lower back. The other hand, I tangle in her hair again. I don’t pull her head back again, instead I just look into her eyes, unable to see anything but her.

  “Love Pinkie, always will. She has a special place, but never in my life would I make her my Old Lady. She’s a good woman, but that’s not what we are, not what we’ve ever been.”

  “But you’ve slept together.”

  Arching a brow, I refuse to answer that, she already knows the answer anyway. I continue to watch her, wondering when she’ll get it, that she’s the only one that I want. She’s thinking about Pinkie, but other than spending yesterday with her, Pinkie hasn’t crossed my mind since Pamela walked into my life.

  “There’s nobody but you, babe.”

  “There isn’t?” she asks with a snort.

  Shaking my head slowly, I continue to focus my gaze on her. “There isn’t, not since I met you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the only one I want.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  PAMELA

  Lifting my thumb to my mouth, I chew on the side of my nail, biting off a bit of skin there as I stare straight ahead at nothingness.

  Because you’re the only one I want.

  The words play on repeat.

  Dylan said them to me, then he released me completely, turned around and walked away from me, leaving me alone in the kitchen. It’s been hours since I’ve seen him. He’s not even on the property today, I saw him load up on a bike and take off with three other men.

  It’s been hours since he was here and I’ve completed all of my duties for the day. I’m afraid to go outside, worried he’ll get pissed off at me again, but I can only stay inside of this clubhouse for so long before I completely lose my mind. Plus, all I can do is think about what he said, which makes me feel even crazier.

  “Hey,” a voice calls out.

  Turning my head, I see Della standing a few feet away. Frowning, I lift my gaze to meet hers. I don’t really understand the dynamic between her and Dylan. They were a thing, he wanted her, and she got married to another brother. That’s all I know, but she feels guilty so she’s being extra nice to me to ease that guilt.

  “Hey,” I say, giving her a fake smile.

  Her own smile falters, obviously seeing my fakeness. She clears her throat, then sits in the chair across from mine. I watch as she presses her lips together, rolling them a few times before she clears her throat.

  “You must be bored,” she offers.

  Nodding my head slowly, I let out a sigh. “Bored stiff,” I say with a snort.

  “Do you read? I could maybe get an e-reader loaded with books for you?”

  “Are you being extra nice to me because you feel guilty?” I ask, deciding not to pussyfoot around anymore.

  She blinks, her head jerking back slightly before she lets out a long exhale. “It’s that obvious?”

  Shrugging, I tap my finger against the scarred wooden pub table. “Since day one,” I point out.

  She laughs softly, leaning back in her seat. “I just want him happy. I found my happiness and it wasn’t with him. So, yeah, I feel guilty about that.”

  I watch her for a moment. She’s gorgeous in a natural and classy way. I could see her working in a bank or a fancy office. She does not seem like the biker babe type, the wife of a criminal.

  She doesn’t talk like most of the women that hang out at clubs, then again none of the Old Ladies here do. They’re all a bit classier than any of the women I’ve ever seen at the Donkey Punchers, even Pinkie has more class than the Old Ladies at the Punchers.

  “You shouldn’t,” I point out. “Feel guilty, that is. Dylan hasn’t ever said he’s angry about what happened.”

  She looks down at the table, then lifts her eyes to meet mine and they’re glassy and wet with unshed tears.

  “I’m glad he hasn’t. But I would feel better if he were settled with the woman for him.”

  I want to tell her that, that woman, she may not be me. I don’t bother though, it doesn’t matter. If he wants me, he knows he can have me. He’s not there yet, and I’m not going to sit around and beg him.

  That’s just not who I am.

  I’ve already begged him not to hurt me. It made him practically push me away, it scared the shit out of him. He says he only wants me, but I don’t believe him, not yet. I have zero proof that his words are anything but
words.

  “That seems like something you need to talk to him about then,” I say.

  I try not to sound like a bitch, but this whole thing is dumb. Pinkie has said the same thing, the only one who hasn’t is Dylan himself and I’m tired. Standing, I brush my palms down my hips, trying to keep it from showing that my hands are shaking.

  I’ve never stood up to anyone, not that I’m really doing that now. But this is ridiculous. It’s stupid. I’m into Dylan, but he’s denying what he feels for me, if he feels anything. I can guess that he does, based on some of the things he’s said and the way he’s kissed me, the way that he touched me.

  But I’m not going to stop my life for a maybe and might. I’m also not going to beg him for a fucking thing. I already feel like I’ve done that and been rejected. I took care of him, worried about him, and thought there would be more between us, but he keeps pushing me away.

  Turning around, I walk away from her when she doesn’t respond to my words right away. I’m only a few feet away when she calls out my name. Spinning around, I look at her and wait.

  “You don’t act like an eighteen-year-old.”

  I almost laugh, but the observation is interesting to me. I’m not sure how an eighteen-year-old is supposed to act, I’ve only seen them be raped. I was never allowed to actually be friends with anyone, not even the other daughter and girls of the club.

  “I grew up around ten, when my dad informed me that I would be gang-raped and given to a deserving member of his club to use as he saw fit,” I snap before I turn around and start to walk back to my room.

  These people have too much fucking time on their hands. They’re all mixed in each other’s shit and I’m over it all. Nobody just does their own stuff.

  Della, Pinkie, Mamba, and even Dragon are worried about Dylan’s love life, I don’t get it, I’ve never been around a group that cares who is fucking who so damn much.

  Leaving Della, speechless, her mouth hanging open, I walk to my room and sit on the edge, pinching my eyes closed and just breathing. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I can’t continue this way.

  I can’t stay here, constantly being told how I need to be with Dylan, how he deserves some good in his life and how that’s me, but then he tells me it’s completely opposite.

  I can’t breathe here.

  I can’t even really see.

  Everything is blurry and stifling.

  “I need to go,” I whisper to myself.

  Standing, I reach for one of the gift bags from my birthday and put everything I own inside. Hitching it over my shoulder, I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m going to do, but I can’t stay here.

  Running into the clubhouse, I look around frantically, then I see him. Dragon is sitting at the edge of the bar, his head tipped as he talks to a small child. He must sense me watching him. He lifts his head and his eyes catch mine.

  “Office,” he barks.

  My entire body jerks and I walk toward his office. I don’t hear what he says as he murmurs to the child, but then I feel him behind me not long after. I walk into his office, stand in the middle of the room and wait.

  JAGUAR

  All the shit is loaded for transport and I watch as a couple of brothers jump in the truck and take off. Never thought I’d want to go on a run like they’re headed on again, personally, I hated them.

  A long trip of sitting on my ass in a cage, dropping shit off and coming home, all the while holding my breath in hope that I won’t get caught. Except, that’s exactly what I want to do right now, probably because I can’t.

  “You’re a fuckin’ mess,” Dragon announces from beside me.

  Turning my head, I look over at him, arching a brow. He looks straight ahead in the direction of the now gone truck and doesn’t say anything right away. I feel impatient and annoyed as I wait for him to speak. It feels like it takes a fucking hour for him to finally say something.

  “Talked to her today. Told her that we found Riot and we’d be heading to Oregon soon to end him.”

  “Yeah?”

  He hums. “Yeah. She asked me to let her leave when he was dealt with. When it was done.”

  My heart starts pounding against my chest. Leave. She wants to leave here, leave me? What the actual fuck? Sweat gathers at my forehead, dripping down my temples. I want to wait for him to finish, but I can’t.

  “What the fuck?” I bark. “Where the fuck is she going to go?”

  “Why do you care?” he asks, quickly responding. He shrugs a shoulder. Looking from the ground then back to me. “You don’t want her. You made that clear. Why would she stay here? What would she do here?” he asks. “Only one job for a girl her age and I’m thinkin’ you wouldn’t like her whorin’ too much.”

  The thought of her spreading her legs for anyone but me causes my entire body to break out in a sweat and my blood to boil even harder beneath the surface.

  “I wouldn’t,” I grind out.

  He snorts, a deep grunt escaping from his chest. “You got a couple weeks to claim her. After that, nothing I can do to keep her here. She wants to go and she’s free to do that. So far, she has proven to me that she’s not any kind of spy. She seems on the up-and-up. Told her I’d help her get settled.”

  “Why would you do that?” I ask.

  Dragon inhales a deep breath, then lets it out. He turns to look out in front of him in the distance, but he’s not seeing what’s in front of him, he’s thinking about something else and I have a feeling it’s more like someone else and that someone sleeps beside him at night.

  “Because it ain’t her fault Riot is her father. If I can get her set up, get her into some kind of trade school so she can take care of herself, then I’m going to do that. She deserves that.”

  “Deserves?” I ask.

  He hums. “Yeah, Jag. She deserves a shot at a decent life. Whether that comes with your brand seared into her skin or not. I’m going to do what I can.”

  Without another word, he turns and walks away from me. I don’t watch him, instead, I imagine Pamela somewhere else. I imagine her living a life where she works doing some kind of trade. A nurse, a hairstylist, something else and I shake my head because as much as I want her to do what she wants, I also am selfish as fuck and I want her next to me.

  Then Dragon’s words come back to me. A shot at a decent life. She won’t get that with me, no way in fuck.

  There’s a noise behind me and I jerk, turning around and bracing for whatever is about to come my way. When I see her, I freeze. She is standing far enough away from me that I can’t reach out and touch her, but she’s close enough that it would only take a few short steps to be near her.

  “You’re leaving,” I announce.

  She looks down to her feet, then slowly lifts her gaze to meet my own. “After Riot is dealt with,” she says, nodding her head in agreement.

  “Then what?” I ask.

  Dragon told me what he knows, what she told him, but I need to hear it from her. I need to know what she really wants. I need to see it in her eyes. I need to hear it from her own lips.

  “School of some kind. Try to live in the world and survive.”

  “Survive? Ain’t you been doin’ that long enough?” I ask.

  She blinks, her gaze finding and holding mine. “Yeah, barely,” she admits on a breath.

  I shake my head a couple of times, then close the distance between us, unable to stay away from her. I need to touch her. I need to be close to her. I should turn away, tell her good luck, pat her on her head and send her far away from me.

  I can’t.

  Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek. “Sunny,” I exhale.

  Her breath hitches as she tilts her head back to look up at me. She closes her eyes, pinching them closed, then lets out a long breath before she whispers my name.

  “Dylan.”

  Somehow, I don’t hate my given name on her lips, in fact, it’s the opposite. I fucking love it. Tipping my head down, I press my forehead
against hers and inhale a deep breath, taking in her scent and letting it fill my entire body.

  “I can’t let you go,” I admit.

  “Why?” she asks.

  “You’re mine.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  PAMELA

  You’re mine.

  He says these words and yet does absolutely nothing to back them up. Slipping my hands between us, I press my palms against his chest and try to push away from him, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he wraps his arms around me, holding me firmly and close against his chest, trapping my hands between us.

  “I’m not,” I whisper. “You keep saying that, then you ignore me, then you push me away, then you go off with Pinkie. So, I’m not really anyone’s, especially yours.”

  He doesn’t say anything right away, his jaw is clenched as he watches me for a long moment. Then his arms flex and he brings me even closer. Dipping his chin, I expect him to press his forehead to mine again, but he doesn’t.

  Dylan’s lips touch mine. The kiss starts out as soft, sweet almost. It’s closed mouthed and my entire body melts against him. I no longer am trying to push away. He parts his lips and I automatically do the same, then his tongue slides inside of me and I moan.

  His hands leave my back, lowering to my hips, then grabbing ahold of my ass before he picks me up. Lifting my arms, I wrap them around his shoulders holding on to him, bracing myself because inside I’m a melted puddle of goo.

  Wrapping my legs around his hips I try to keep from moving, but I can’t stop myself, I crave the friction. He walks somewhere, but I have no idea where he’s going, I don’t care either. All I want is his body against mine. All I need is more of this—more of him.

  He sets me down on the edge of a hard surface before he yanks his head back, abruptly breaking the kiss. His eyes find mine and his breathing is labored, at the same time I’m panting and trying to hold back a whimper.

  “Don’t push me away again, no more,” I say, and if I sound pleading, it’s genuine because I’m close to dropping to my knees and begging.