by Jessica Ames
I shouldn’t be this fucking interested in her. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I tell myself it’s because she’s family, because she’s Levi’s kid sister, but it’s more than that. The feelings I have for her are not familial and to be honest that scares the shit out of me. I’ve never felt any emotion for a woman in my life. The thought I have them for a girl who only just stopped being jail bait leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.
“What’s got you glaring?” Titch asks, sliding onto the stool next to mine.
Kyle moves over to grab him a drink without being asked. Such a good little prospect.
“Ain’t glaring at shit,” I mutter, wrapping my hands around my glass. Irritation itches across my skin.
“Sure you ain’t.”
He takes the pint glass from Kyle as he slides it on the bar top. The prospect then makes himself scarce. We could probably do with taking on another kid, but Ravage doesn’t seem in any hurry to replace Zack. I know Kyle must be feeling the increased workload since Zack was killed at the hands of Sin, but the kid has never once complained. I admire that about him.
I glance over at Levi, who is pounding into Noelle on one of the sofas, his bare arse on display for everyone to see, his jeans pulled down to his thighs. Those two are a fucked-up mess, but it ain’t my place to judge what a brother does. As far as I’m concerned, you fuck bunnies, you don’t love them. It’s clear Levi is starting to fall for her, hard. Noelle seems like a nice enough girl, but she ain’t old lady material. Bitches who spread their legs for any man who walks by ain’t the type of woman a brother wants at his side.
“Something going on with you and Levi?”
I don’t blame this question. I’ve spent most of the night glaring in the brother’s direction, but I don’t need him sticking his fucking nose in where it doesn’t belong.
“That any of your business?” I ask as I take a sip of my drink.
“You and him have beef, then yeah, it’s everyone’s business.”
“Ain’t got beef with the brother,” I assure him, wishing he’d let shit go, but he doesn’t.
“Yeah? You’ve been watching him all night.” His lips twitch. “You jealous of Noelle?”
I roll my eyes. “Ain’t jealous of that snatch. Levi ain’t my type. I like pussy.”
“So, what’s going on?”
“You always so fucking pushy?”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Just trying to keep the peace, brother. Shit has been a little explosive lately. It’s only just starting to calm down.”
He’s not wrong about that, but we came out the other side stronger. Blackwood’s patch is ours now, one more of our enemies has been defeated and the whole of London knows the consequences of fucking with us. It left a strong message not to fuck with us.
I shouldn’t ask him, but I can’t resist the chance of finding out something more. “What do you know about Briella?”
“Levi’s sister?” I don’t miss the surprise in his voice.
He and Titch are closest in the club, so if anyone is going to know shit I’ll be him.
“Yeah.”
He scrubs a hand over his face as he watches me, trying to work out why the hell I’m asking about her.
“Had a shit start in life. I know that much. Dad was a violent piece of shit. He’d knock the hell out of the girl and drink until he forgot what he’d done. Levi found out and took her out of the house. She was doing okay then she went off the fucking rails, drinking, out all the time. She’s driving Levi around the bend. I thought it was something to do with Sasha. It kicked off after she got back. Thought maybe they had beef—you know what bitches are like—but they get on. They’re friends, even.” He shrugs as he stares at me a beat and I feel the weight of that look. “Heard you dragged her out of a Sic Bastards club the other night.”
“Yeah, fuck knows what she was doing there. She was a fucking mess.”
“Levi said she didn’t know.”
She’d said that to me too, and while I believe her, I’m still pissed. She needs to be more alert to this shit. She could end up in a dangerous situation otherwise.
“She’s Sons property. She needs to be more fucking careful.” But it’s Levi’s job to inform her of where she’s allowed to go.
“Agreed, but she’s young too,” he says, as if I need that reminder.
I know exactly how young she is. I know all too fucking well. I wish I didn’t. I wish I could switch off the desire I feel for her, but I can’t. It makes me a sick fucking bastard. My body is constantly at war. My dick wants that sweet pussy, which makes my mind and gut twist at the fucked up thoughts I’m having. Hell, I can’t sleep lately thinking about her, and while I can’t have her, I can protect her. I’m going to do everything I can to keep her safe, whether she wants it or not.
“She’s just pushing boundaries,” Titch continues. “Ain’t like she’s looking for trouble.”
Her words reverberate around my head. “It’s too late…”
What the fuck happened to her?
“She ever mention anything happening to her?”
“Like what?”
I sigh and push to my feet. “I’m heading out, brother.”
“Day?” Titch saying my name stops my retreat. I turn to him, my hair dripping into my eyes. “She in trouble?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I admit and the words sour in my stomach. I should know.
Troubled lines appear on his face at my words, but I don’t give him the chance to question more. I rap my knuckles on the bar and make my exit.
Needing to clear my head, I head out to my bike. The evening air is cool and refreshing. The air in the common room felt stifling, too thick, heavy. I snag my helmet and pull it on, as well as my skull bandanna. Once both are in place, I start the engine and kick the stand up.
My stomach churns as I pull out of the compound, and I’m not sure why, but an unease sweeps over me. What happened to Brie, and why the fuck won’t she tell me? I have no destination in mind as I ride aimlessly around the borough, my head full of her. I’m so deep in my thoughts that I don’t realise I’ve ridden to her flat until I’m on the road outside the building.
I pull up at the kerb, my gut rolling, even as a thread of excitement rolls through me. I shouldn’t be here, but the thought of seeing her, even if it’s only for a second, has my stomach doing somersaults. I sit for a moment, astride my bike, staring up at the window, before sense returns. This is fucking ridiculous. I want to talk to her. Since when have I been such a pussy?
Kicking the stand down, I pull my helmet off and climb off the bike. Then I stalk towards the flat door. It looks the same as it did when me, Levi and Titch moved her in a few months ago. I pause before the red door, my brain screaming at me to abort, to walk away, but I can’t. I need fucking answers and I’m going to get them, even if I have to drag them out of her one piece at a fucking time.
I rap my knuckles against the door and step back, waiting. It feels like it takes an age for movement to be heard on the other side of the wood, but in reality, it only takes a couple of seconds.
When it opens, my breath catches in my throat I’m greeted with Briella. She looks stunning, fresh-faced, no makeup on and her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. The oversized sweater she’s wearing hides her curves, which annoys me.
“Daimon…” She breathes my name, staring at me like I’m an apparition.
“Are you going to ask me in, or are we doing this on the doorstep?”
My brash tone has her brows coming together and her words are sharp when she speaks.
“Did you come here just to be a dick?”
“No,” I soften my voice before I push around her and step into the flat, taking the choice of inviting me in out of her hands. Patience is not one of my strong points.
I step into the small kitchen slash living area and take in her corner sofa, television and little knick-knacks around the room. It’s clear two girls live here. There’s a pile of heeled shoes
by the front door and a little pile of makeup shit on the end table at the edge of the sofa. Everywhere I look, I can see trails of girly shit.
I turn and peer at Briella who has wrapped her arms around herself and is looking anywhere but at me. I want to grab her chin and force her eyes to meet mine, but I keep my hands at my side. I don’t have the right to touch her. Yet.
Fuck, where did that come from?
“What are you doing here, Daimon?” she asks finally, breaking through the silence.
“I needed to see you.”
“Why?”
“You said shit I can’t erase out of my fucking mind, darlin’. I need to know what you meant.”
She shifts uncomfortably and she moves into the kitchen, swaying slightly on her feet. My eyes narrow.
“You drunk?” I demand.
She waves me off. “No.”
I close the space between us and grab her upper arm, turning her towards me. The stench of booze on her breath nearly knocks me out.
“You’re fucking trashed. Where the hell is Layla?”
“At work.” She drags her arm free. “Quit grabbing me all the fucking time.”
I pounce down on the anger that is brewing in my belly. “You’re just sitting at home, getting wasted on your own?”
“So, what if I am?” Briella goes to her toes and hisses in my face. “Why is that any of your fucking business?”
“Because I fucking care about you!” I roar at her and she recoils, stepping back, her face a mask of fear.
I don’t want to scare her, but my anger is pumping through my veins. I can’t control it. She’s spiralling in front of my eyes and I don’t know how the hell to help her.
“Is this a regular fucking thing?”
Tears brim in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Leave, please.” It’s a plea.
I don’t move.
“You drinking to forget?” I push, even though I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. She’s close to breaking as it is.
She fists her hands over her ears and squeezes her eyes shut. Pain wrenches through my chest, fingers crushing my throat as I struggle to breathe. Whatever is happening is worse than I thought. The anguish written across her beautiful features shreds me.
“Stop it!” she begs. The fear in her voice cuts through me like a thousand knives.
Gently, I prise her hands away, my heart pounding in my chest. She’s unravelling before my eyes.
“Who did we fail to protect you from, Briella?”
“No one,” she screams in my face. “Stop acting like I need saving! I don’t. I don’t need you to ride in like the white knight on a fucking horse. I don’t need anything from the Untamed Sons. Leave me the hell alone! I hate you! All of you!” The way she spits out the club’s name has ice pumping through my veins, ready to spill out. It’s so unlike her. She loves the club, or at least, I thought she did.
I watch as she storms off up the small hallway. Then she slams the door behind her and the walls rattle. My breath rips out of me, panic tingling along my skin. Fuck me. I unleashed something here, something dark and forbidding.
“Fuck, Brie, what the hell happened?” I whisper to the empty room.
It should make me back off, but her reaction has me wanting to dig deeper, to find out what the hell is going on. I want to stop the hurt claiming her, smooth it all away and wrap her up, so nothing touches her again. Levi’s right. She’s spiralling, and I ain’t letting that happen while I have breath in my body.
I should leave, I should get the fuck out of there and do what she demands, but I don’t. I walk over to the sofa and plonk my arse on it. I’m not leaving her like this. I can’t. I peer at the door, wondering what the fuck happened.
8
Briella
My heart is pounding as I sit on the edge of my bed, my thoughts jumping around my brain. I didn’t expect Daimon to keep pushing me on this, but he seems determined to get answers, and that terrifies me. The moment my truth comes out, I’ll be moved into the dreaded victim category. No one will see Briella any longer, just the vile act that was done to me. That can’t happen. I don’t want to see the pity in their eyes, to be treated like glass. I’m not letting him take anything else from me.
The only person who knows what happened that night is Layla, and I’ve already seen how that information has changed her. She’s different. Reckless in her own way, and she gives me more leeway than I should have, scared of pushing me over the edge. She definitely sees me as a victim. I hate it. She thinks I don’t notice the sideways glances or the small frown between her brow, as if she doesn’t know me, as if I’m not the girl she grew up with any longer.
I have no idea where Daimon is. I tell myself I don’t care, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth. I curl up on my bed, pulling the covers over me, and I cry myself into an uneasy sleep, needing the relief letting my emotions out brings.
Nightmares stalk through my dreams, replaying my trauma on a loop. I see his face, feel his weight on top of me, feel the pain he caused me as he shoved inside me without a thought for me, the way he smiled as tears fell from the corners of my eyes.
It takes me a while to pull free of the hold the nightmare has on me and when I do, I wake on a scream, the darkness clawing at me as my heart hammers wildly against my ribs.
In the silence, I can hear my laboured breaths as I try to draw air into my lungs. My breath catches again as the bedroom door is shoved open and a dark figure is standing in the doorway. I shriek, clawing back across the bed as it stalks towards me.
“No!” I let out a frightened wail.
“Brie, it’s me.”
Daimon.
I relax, only fractionally. What the hell is he still doing here?
Another figure appears behind him and the room is suddenly filled with light. I blink against the brightness, the light burning my eyes as the shadows are chased away. Layla’s eyes flare as she takes in the huge biker standing in the middle of my room before she steps around him and comes to the bed.
“Are you all right?” she demands, her fingers skimming over my arm in reassurance.
I nod, even though I’m not.
“It’s just a dream,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “You can go back to bed.”
Layla eyes me like she thinks I’ve lost my mind if I think she’s leaving. If our roles were reversed, there’s no way I would leave her either.
“I’ve got this,” Daimon surprises the hell out of me by saying.
I blink at him, my eyes roving over his face, taking in his arms crossed over his chest, the set of his jaw. He’s got this? Layla isn’t convinced.
“You ‘got this’?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she stares down a dangerous biker who could probably make her disappear with a word.
I expect Daimon to explode, but he doesn’t.
“Just give us a minute, please?”
I don’t know if it’s the gentleness of his voice or the please that does it, but Layla’s eyes soften at his words.
She turns to me.
“I’m next door if you need me.”
Traitorous bitch.
Daimon waits for the door to shut behind her, his eyes never leaving my face. I want to wilt under that scrutiny. My heart is already hammering in my chest, my hands clammy. I can’t deal with this much attention directed at me.
I focus instead on his bare feet and the fact he’s removed his kutte, so he’s only in his jeans and tee. I can see every contour of his chest beneath the material, straining as he shifts. I pull my eyes, not wanting to ogle him. “You screamed,” he says finally.
“I was… dreaming.”
“You often scream when you’re dreaming?”
I do since him.
I swallow bile. “I don’t need protecting, Daimon.”
“I’m not trying to protect you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, as if the w
ords are stuck in his throat.
“Why are you still here?” I press, needing to know.
“I don’t know,” he admits, his candour taking me by surprise.
The confession has my stomach doing a little flutter. Is he here because he cares? The thought makes warmth spread through my body.
“Levi—”
“Doesn’t get a say in this,” he interrupts before I can finish my words. I’m not sure what I was going to say, so I’m almost grateful he did, though I still scowl at him.
He moves towards the bed and I hold my breath.
“You’re trembling.”
I peer down at my hands and see he’s telling the truth. My hands are shaking. I swallow down the fear and try to regain control of myself. I can’t unravel in front of this man, but I feel close to it. All my carefully crafted walls are starting to tumble down around him, and I don’t like that they are.
“I’m okay,” I tell him.
“Why you still lying to me?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m fine.”
“You’re drinking—”
“I had a few glasses to unwind,” I lie.
“You’re having nightmares. You’re acting out. What the fuck is going on with you?”
“Acting out? What am I? A kid? I’m an adult and I can do whatever the fuck I want. The sooner you remember that the better we’ll both be.”
“Your brother’s worried about you.”
I frown at him, his words making my stomach twist unpleasantly. I never want to make my brother worry. “He is?”