by K E Osborn
“Acosta.”
I tilt my stature with hand on hip. “Strong name.”
Raph throws back his drink, then swipes the back of his mouth with his hand. “It needs to be.”
I furrow my brows at his words as Tim, my manager, walks over appearing cheery as ever, his shaggy blond hair in his face as always as he strolls up to me. “You’re free to go, Hayley. Your shift finished five minutes ago. You don’t want to keep the guys waiting,” he suggests, meaning the brothers back at the club.
If I run late, they worry. The streets of Chicago are relatively tame now the MC, the Triads, and the Andretti Mafia are all in alliance with one another, but shit can still go wrong. With this guy, Raphael Acosta, on the scene, maybe there might be a new threat, a new gang, or something else moving in on MC territory. Guess, we’ll just have to wait and see. But either way, I need to get home and tell Torque, my president, because this shit was definitely strange, and I know when something’s off.
“Thanks, Tim,” I tell him undoing my apron. Then I turn to take one last look at Raph, but he’s not in his seat.
He’s gone.
Thankfully.
Feeling a little calmer and happier that Raph decided to leave, so I walk out the back to grab my stuff. Once I have everything packed away, I slip out the back door toward my car in the parking lot. It’s now well into the early morning, maybe around one thirty, but it’s always safe out here as no one knows about this parking area.
The spring night air is frosty, sending goosebumps all over my arms. I wrap them around myself as I hurry toward my car. I really should have brought a sweater. The dull hum of the minimal overhead lighting sporadically illuminates the few vehicles in the employee parking lot as I rush to get to my car.
I stink, I’m tired, and I want to go home.
Pulling out my keys, the eeriness of the early morning feels somehow darker. Whether it’s my mood or the fact I felt creeped out by Raphael which could be playing on my mind, I don’t know.
It could be nothing, but my job is to report anything and everything I observe or overhear.
It’s why the club girls work in the biker-owned bar—to notice things the MC doesn’t necessarily see.
As I get closer to my car, I hear something behind me.
Footsteps.
My heart leaps into my throat as I spin so fast I overbalance a little. When I right myself, I notice Raphael running toward me. Every part of me tenses wanting to scream, but he’s smiling and waving a wad of cash at me, so I need to play this cool to see what he wants.
“Hey! Hey… Hayley, you forgot your tips,” he yells out making me relax a tiny bit, but I don’t let my guard down for one second. I’m not stupid.
He steps up to me handing me the cash. I weakly smile. Seeing him in the shadows of the parking lot somehow makes him seem even more sinister if that’s possible.
I’m on high alert as I glance back at the bar to see no one is around.
Fucking hell, I’m on my own. I should have known better—I do know better than this.
“Thanks, Raph, that’s very kind of you,” I tell him.
He drops his chin to his chest, grabs my hand, then leans in planting a kiss on the back. I can’t help but wonder briefly if maybe he’s just a genuine guy trying to be nice. I exhale, moving to take my hand away from him, but when I do, his hand slips to my wrist, gripping tight. Oh fuck! My heart leaps into my throat as my eyes meet his. Then I see it, the darkness taking over his entire being.
Instantly, I back away, attempting to pry my hand from his grip. But he’s strong, much stronger than he looks. Raphael steps closer, so I go to scream, but he lunges forward, his free hand moving to smother my mouth. The bastard pushes me into the side of my car so forcefully, I hear the door push inward.
Fear ripples through me as he leans in so close while I pant heavily out of my nose as we stare into each other’s eyes, trying to gauge the situation we find ourselves in. I go to scream again, but he pushes his entire body against mine, his hard cock pressing against me. Tears well in my eyes as I search around the lot for anyone, someone to help me as I struggle in his grip.
Raphael leans in, the smell of bourbon almost overpowering, as his lips touch my ear. “I’ve been watching you here for weeks. All I want is a taste of you… just a little taste.”
My stomach falls to the ground like the weight of a concrete block. I shake against him, trying anything to get away, but he easily pushes me further into the car.
“I need you, Hayley. It’s coursing through my veins to take you. I can’t deny my urges any longer.” The asshole’s free hand travels down my side as I tremble and shake in his tight hold.
I can’t stand the thought, so I buck against him, trying with everything I have to push him off me, to find some way out of this. Raphael shoves back as I try to bring my leg up between his, to knee him in the balls, but he fends me off. Instead, his grip on me tightens, his hand on my face becoming so forceful the pain is excruciating as I fight with everything I damn well have to get away, but nothing’s working.
His face grows angrier by the second as his eyes narrow in on me. “Stop fighting this, Hayley. I know you want it.”
No.
What I want is to be sick.
This can’t happen.
So, I do the only thing left I can think of.
I find a way to clamp down on his hand with my teeth. Raphael yelps out in pain as he lets my face go for the briefest of moments. I scream, but it’s muffled because his closed fist slams into the side of my temple before I have a second to think about getting much out.
Pain sears through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my entire life. My head fogs instantly, and I fall to the ground like a lifeless scrap. My mind’s whirring, and I’m so nauseous I can’t think straight. I feel myself zoning out, but I can’t do anything to stop it.
My eyes focus as I glance into Raphael’s dark eyes.
He towers over me while my heart races in my chest.
I can’t move.
I can’t think.
I can’t feel.
So, I close my watering eyes, letting the blackness completely engulf me.
LIFT
I should be in bed. It’s fucking late. Or early. What the fuck ever. Either way, I’m tired from a big day of working on deals for the club. So, I’m sitting here at the clubhouse bar drinking until stupid o’clock with my best friend, Vibe. He’s waiting patiently for his woman, Hayley, to come home from working at Club Modesty.
Everyone else is in bed. We have a big day tomorrow. Starlet and Infinity, the club’s two old ladies, who also happen to be famous actresses, are having a press junket in Chicago for another movie they starred in together. Like the errand boys we are, we’re all going to support them. I guess I don’t mind the free food, free booze, plus it’s a day out. It’s not that bad, it’s just the press we have to deal with, and the fact we aren’t allowed to dress in our cuts completely shits me the fuck off.
I mean why the hell do we have to wear black slacks and dress shirts is beyond me. Everyone knows the club’s involved, so why can’t we dress like we usually do?
But it’s not my decision to make. It’s the pres who makes the rulings in conjunction with Ace and Midnight, the brothers of the old ladies who are the actresses.
Midnight happens to be my blood brother, so I suppose I should be more supportive of him and his Old Lady. Don’t get me wrong, I love Infinity, she’s a great girl. I think it’s cool she’s mega-famous and all that shit. It’s also great he’s in love. I guess I just feel as his older brother, I would be the one finding love and happiness first. That’s how it’s supposed to go, right?
The rest of the club is deep in the family way now, most of them have old ladies or girlfriends. Don’t forget the little brats running around too. So, bedtimes these days have gotten earlier, and parties are few and far between.
The club has changed in the last ten years. Ever since the pres�
�� Old Lady, Foxy, came on the scene. That’s when everything shifted. Not for the better or worse, just different. We were all younger then. The club was at war with the Andretti Mafia. Hell, we were at war with fucking everyone. Now, Chicago’s a calmer, quieter place. With Defiance, the Triads, and the Andrettis all aligned, it’s fucking great to have peace on the streets.
I bring my beer to my lips, drinking the remnants of the stein, before placing it back on the bar with a thud. “I’m going to bed.”
Vibe chuckles. “Lightweight.”
“Some of us have been working on shipments all day. Sitting here waiting for Hayley to get back isn’t my idea of relaxing, especially when I could be in bed with my eyes shut dreaming of my own beautiful blonde.”
Vibe snorts. “You need to get laid, brother.” His Finnish accent comes through stronger when he’s tired.
Quickly, I glimpse over to the bar at Jazz, our club girl. She winks at me when Vibe’s cell starts ringing.
“It’s Hayley. Why the hell is she calling?”
That is weird, she usually comes straight home. In fact, she should have already been here. I stand around to hear what’s going on.
“Hey, babe, you okay?” Vibe asks. Worry lines etch across his face as he tilts his head like he’s uneasy by whatever’s being said.
Something’s going down.
Some shit must have happened at Club Modesty. Great. Just when everything’s been calm and easy.
“I’ll be right there. I’m coming right now. Okay?” Vibe’s tone is so unsure, it’s fucking disconcerting.
I fold my arms over my chest as I watch him hit end on the call. He rubs the back of his neck like he’s confused.
I wait for him to talk, but he won’t, so I push the issue. “Well?”
“Fuck if I know, but she sounded fucking strange. I gotta go get her, brother. Some shit’s gone down, that’s for sure.”
I tense all over, every muscle going taut.
If something is going down, and my best friend’s woman is involved, there’s no way I’m not stepping in. “I’m coming with.”
“I hope everything’s okay,” Jazz murmurs, seemingly worried.
Vibe’s rattled.
Trying to ease her worried mind, I glance at Jazz. “I’ll let you know when I can.”
She dips her head as I grab Vibe’s cut hoisting him off his seat, and we walk toward the door. I slap his back as worry lines cross his features. “She sounded so fucking strange, brother. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.”
Tension rolls through me. “Do you think we need reinforcements?”
He grits his teeth. “Can’t wait for that, I need to get to her.”
I grip his shoulder in support, then we rush to our bikes.
As we approach Club Modesty, the lineup out the front is still a mile long. This place continues to be a hub for Chicago’s nightlife—it stays open until dawn. The music thumps loudly as we walk to the front of the line. Scott, the bouncer on the door, opens the divider to let us through. The assholes waiting in line to get inside let out their obvious disapproval that we’re let in before them, but they don’t know we own the joint.
Idiots.
We stride in, pushing our way through the sweaty dancers and drunken mass of inebriated people. I groan to myself as we head toward the back bar. We can’t see Hayley anywhere, so Vibe points upward. I know what he means, we need to make our way to the VIP section. We’re let in without question. Quickly, we stride to the back, straight up the sectioned-off stairs to the office area. It’s Torque’s personal space, but it’s used when people need a quiet place to talk.
Maybe Hayley’s in there?
The door’s closed.
We don’t bother to knock.
When we walk inside, there are security guards gathered around the lounge area. Tim, the shaggy bartender, plus Hayley who’s huddled up on the sofa with a tear-stained face and ripped clothing.
Jesus Christ, she’s a damn mess.
Fuck.
My stomach falls as I take in the sight before me. Hayley might not be my girl, but she is my friend, and seeing her like this hurts.
I can’t imagine what it’s doing to Vibe.
I turn to face him, but his face is unreadable.
His feet hardly touch the floor as he bolts, rushing to her side, pushing a security guy out the way to get to her. Vibe falls to the sofa beside Hayley but doesn’t make a move to touch her.
She shifts away instantly needing space.
Oh crap, this is bad!
This is really fucking bad.
Vibe swallows hard as he turns glaring at the security guard, but it’s Tim who talks. “I was walking to my car when I saw it, Vibe.”
Vibe’s breathing comes in short and sharp bursts as Hayley stares blankly into space. “Saw what?” he grunts through gritted teeth.
“The guy… assaulting her…” Tim hesitates like he’s unsure of how to continue, but he does anyway. “Sexually.”
Heaviness falls over me in an instant. Fucking hell, I feel like I’m going to be physically ill.
Vibe suddenly stands with so much power and aggression. He walks over to the desk, picks up the lamp from the edge, and hurls it across the room. The damn thing smashes into the wall, disintegrating into a thousand pieces as I stand here not knowing what to do.
Hayley sits on the sofa, shaking in a ball but not trying to move. It’s like she isn’t even home while Vibe cuts lose.
Do I stop him?
Do I try to reassure him?
Vibe grabs the desk chair, picking it up, then he throws it across the room too. He doesn’t seem like he’s finished as he walks up to the desk and starts punching it—hard—the wood cracking beneath his fury.
Yeah, I’ve got to do something.
With quick steps, I hurry over, pulling at his arms to stop him. He grunts through his teeth, spittle flying out through his undeniable rage as he fights against me, but I struggle to turn him around. Vibe breaks his arms free, moving to swing at me.
I duck.
Grab his shoulders.
Stare him right in the eyes.
“Vibe, stop! Hayley doesn’t need this shit. She’s seen enough violence tonight,” I yell in his beet-red face.
He stills instantly, his body sagging, his eyes glistening.
Vibe’s eyes meet mine, and I see the devastation written in them.
He’s broken.
Just like Hayley is right now.
My best friend’s distraught that the woman he’s in love with has been through something so traumatic, and he wasn’t there for her. To protect her. To defend her.
This will eat at him.
I know it will.
If we’re not careful, it will destroy him.
Vibe lets out a long puff of air as I slowly let him go. He turns to face Hayley, who’s still in the same position on the sofa, zoned out like she has no clue what’s even going on. He slowly walks over, squatting in front of her. Taking a deep breath, he reaches out to touch her face.
Hayley’s head snaps around as she scampers away. “Don’t touch me,” she yells at him, while she tries to retreat further back into the sofa without success.
Vibe throws his hands up in surrender, taking a deep breath. “I won’t, babe. I won’t. We need to go back to the clubhouse. To see Medic or Tiny, or Foxy… whichever medical professional you’re comfortable with.”
Hayley’s tear-soaked eyes glisten, they shut and then open again. Her eyes almost look like they are glazing over, but then her bottom lip trembles. “I want to go home.”
Tim scrunches up his face in response. “There’s a problem, guys. I wasn’t the only one who saw it. Cops are outside, they have the asshole in custody.”
A security guy steps forward. “Already given them the footage, Lift. Had no choice, bud.”
I scrunch up my face. For fuck’s sake. If this is in the hands of the cops, it means this has to go down the proper channels. In other words, we ca
n’t make him pay for it. Our way. The club way.
“Fuck,” Vibe murmurs figuring out precisely what I’ve just thought.
We’re screwed. Vengeance will not be ours this time.
This is going to mean court, lawyers, and probably more fucking reporters—just what the club needs. We’ve had no shit focusing in on us for years. Hayley doesn’t need to be dragged through a court trial to get her justice from this piece of fucking shit.
If they have him in custody, there’s nothing we can do but try to maintain this in the best way we can. But first things first, we have to get Hayley seen to. If this goes to court, she has to have a doctor’s report.
“Let’s get Hayley back to the club. We can deal with the fallout as it comes,” I announce.
Vibe nods. “I’ll drive her back in her car. Call Finn to come get my bike.”
I tilt my head. “You trust a prospect to ride your bike?”
“Just do it.” Vibe grunts.
I yank out my cell and type out the message.
Me: Finn, get your ass to Club Modesty. You’re gonna ride Vibe’s bike back to the clubhouse. Don’t care how you get here, make it quick. Also, if there’s a single scratch on his bike when it gets back to the compound, you’re gonna be scrubbing the toilets with your toothbrush for a month.
Finn: Got it!
Ah, a man of few words.
I look up at Vibe, give him a small nod, then his eyes fall back on Hayley. “Babe, we’re gonna go to your car now. Okay?”
Hayley’s glazed eyes slowly meet his, her bottom lip quivering, but she manages somehow to stand. Vibe goes to lead her away, but she ducks off before he can touch her. He grimaces. I tense. Damn, I feel for him. This shit’s going to have repercussions and will be something they will have to work on together. I just hope they can get through it, but more importantly, I hope Haley can get past it.
“I’ll meet you back at the club. I’ll call ahead.”
Vibe walks past me after Hayley, and he simply dips his head in acknowledgment, but his eyes stay focused on his woman when they exit the room.
I take a deep breath once they leave, then turn to Tim who also seems rattled. “Tim, thanks, man, for being there for her.”