Original Cin: A Raptors MC Novel

by Elle Rease

  “To take you out to dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “To celebrate your graduation.” He had pulled her up and wrapped his leather jacket around her. “Come on, I’ll get you back to your dorm.”

  She hadn’t had the energy to argue, not even when he picked her up again. Her eyelids had felt heavy and she’d gone limp in his arms. She had a few memories of retching into her toilet and her bedside dustbin, but those could’ve been dreams, since she had so little detail to go on.

  By the time she had woken up, it was the next morning and Brennan was spooning her. That wasn’t what had made her angry, though.

  “Son of a bitch,” she’d groaned, pulling out of his embrace and getting off the bed to glance at her outfit. She had only been dressed in a baggy T-shirt. What happened to her underwear?

  Brennan had stirred on the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Cin.”

  “What did you do?” She had glared at him, panicking. “You took off my clothes?”

  “You had puke all over them. I didn’t want you to dirty the sheets.”

  “What else did you…” Trailing off, she’d crossed her arms over her chest. “If you tried your luck, I’m gonna be pissed.”

  He’d rolled his eyes. “Believe me, if we had sex, you’d remember.” His gaze had shifted to her legs and he smirked. “I’m loving the curves, by the way. Your tits are very impressive, lass.”

  “They’re not for you!”

  “Yes, they are, and we both know it.”

  Feeling like she could’ve ripped her hair out, she’d marched into her adjoining bathroom and slammed the door shut. She had winced at her splitting headache and rinsed her face with cold water. “Today’s going to be a bad day,” she’d realized.

  That morning, it had taken two hours to get Brennan away from her. He’d left, but he hadn’t been happy about it. That was the third last time she’d seen him.

  “What’re you thinking about?”

  Cinnia blinked and returned to the present. “Graduation.”

  “A fond memory, then,” he chuckled.

  “Jeez, I was such a bitch. I don’t know why you still loved me.”

  “Probably the same reason you still love me, knowing what I’ve done. Forgiveness is the strangest thing: difficult to achieve when you care about someone, but rewarding, all the same.”

  “That’s so true.” She frowned once she felt that he was busy inking her right shoulder. “When did you finish the crest?”

  “About twenty minutes ago. Do you need a break?”

  “No, but I’d like a few sips of soda.”

  Brennan lifted his hand and wiped her skin. “Go right ahead.”

  “Are you enjoying this? Marking me?”

  “Lass, you have no idea. It’s forever. You’ll always have me on you, in more ways than one.”

  “Caveman,” she joked.

  “For you, yes.”

  She emptied her drink. “Okay, you may continue.”

  “Cinnia?”

  She went still. She knew that voice. Turning her head to the side, she couldn’t hide her surprise at seeing Harold. First of all, because he was at a tattoo expo when she knew how much he hated body art. Secondly, what was he doing so close to her hometown?

  “Harold?” She sensed Brennan stiffening behind her, and not in a sexy way. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Uh, one of my friends is photographing models today.” His eyes goggled at her. “What the hell are you doing to your back?”

  “Fixing it,” she responded, her temper flaring. “You should try it sometime.”

  Harold’s gaze flitted over her skin. “You know that’s forever, right?”

  “No!” She pretended to be shocked. Heck, she was a bit worried about Brennan’s silence, more so than her out-of-control anger. “I thought it’ll only last for a year!”

  “You don’t have to get snippy,” Harold sniffed.

  God, he was pathetic. To think that she’d once slept with this man! “Harold, I want you to meet my fiancé,” she said, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “Brennan, this is Harold.”

  Her biker heartthrob stood proudly, towering over Harold, who was of average height. “Thank you for being so good to Cinnia,” his voice rumbled. “For a while, you were what she needed.”

  Harold seemed taken aback. “S-sure.”

  “She’s with me now, though, so her well-being is no longer any of your concern.” Brennan flexed his hands. “So, unless you want to get a tattoo done, you may go.”

  “It w-was good to see you, Cin,” Harold stammered, getting the hell out of Dodge, like any smart human being would have.

  Cinnia, on the other hand, was sitting in a puddle, thanks to Brennan’s display of masculinity. “So hot.”

  He shot her a pleased look. “Better than a fistfight?”

  “Oh yeah,” she nodded. “There’s something about the low-voice thing that gets my motor running.”

  “Good.” He took his seat once more. “I can’t believe you fucked that guy.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t believe you fucked Farrah. Farrah! Not to mention the four-hundred-odd other women, most of whom were probably skanks.”

  “Fine, we’re even.”

  Suddenly, she was able to identify that creepy man who’d stared at her. He was the same guy who had checked his car in at the shop a few weeks ago: the one with the bruised face. Only, he clearly wasn’t injured anymore. Maybe that’s why he’d lost weight.

  Tell him, her conscience urged her. She wiggled her fingers in indecision for a few seconds, knowing she couldn’t make any sudden moves while Brennan had a needle to her skin. “Uh, Bren?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but I saw a suspicious-looking guy today.”

  Silently, he stopped what he was doing. “Go on.”

  “Uhm, when I was walking back from the toilets with Byron, I noticed this guy staring at me,” she explained nervously. “I felt like I knew him, but I’ve only just made the connection. He brought his car in for repairs a few weeks ago. I remember he’d freaked me out that day, too.”

  “And then you wonder why I always have someone around to look out for you.”

  “It might be nothing, though. Just my imagination.”

  “Thanks for mentioning it, lass. I’m glad you’re not like those women who keep things to themselves, no matter how trivial you may think it is.”

  She blushed at his warm words. “Well, if he really is a creepy stalker, I’d rather you know about it, in case I go missing.”

  “Don’t even joke about that. I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  “Sorry.”

  He dropped a kiss on the nape of her neck, making her shiver. “I’ll have someone look into it,” he assured her. “And, until we’ve figured out if he’s a threat or not, I’ll have one of the prospects tailing you at all times. Can you handle that?”

  “As long as the prospect doesn’t have more important things to do, like school.”

  “Done.”

  She gazed at him adoringly. “Thanks for not freaking out too much.”

  “I’m internalizing it,” he chuckled, “but you’re welcome.”

  “One more kiss before you finish this bad boy on my shoulder?”

  He cupped the back of her head and tilted her face up, crushing his mouth to hers. His tongue parted her lips and massaged hers for a slow, tender kiss. And then, as if he remembered where they were and why, he pulled away with a sigh.

  “I’ll do better once we get home,” he murmured.

  She inclined her head happily. “I’m counting on it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “This is really scary.”

  Dawn tapped her foot impatiently. “Oh please, you’re just signing to be a godparent. You won’t be the one raising the baby.”

  “Unless something happens to you and Haye,” Cinnia reminded her friend. She stared at the contract, nerves setting in. Her pen hovered ov
er the dotted line. “And what if I suck at it? What if I don’t know how to talk to him or her?”

  “Then you’ll learn. Just sign the damn thing, Cin.”

  “Okay, okay.” She scribbled her signature and breathed out. “There, it’s done. Happy?”

  “Hell yes.” Dawn held the paper up triumphantly. “Now, I can have the baby in peace!”

  “Just not right this instant,” Cinnia insisted, glancing at Dawn’s significant baby bump. “Almost everyone’s drunk, so we won’t be able to take you to the hospital.”

  “I’m only due in a week, relax.” Dawn rubbed her stomach with a smile. “It’s been fun, but this baby must come out now. I’ve had it up to here with picking up weight and having strange cravings.” She linked her arm with Cinnia’s and they walked back to the party. “Is everything sorted with Jemma’s kids?”

  “Yeah, we’ve already set up the spare bedroom. Guess who’s not getting laid tonight.”

  “In this outfit, I seriously doubt it.”

  Cinnia smiled smugly. Her tattoo was a few days old, so she’d resorted to wearing tops that tied at the top of her neck and over the small of her back with drawstrings. Going braless for this long made her feel sexy. Brennan certainly seemed to think she was the best thing since sliced bread, more so than usual.

  “He did a great job, didn’t he?”

  “It looks awesome, Cin,” Dawn agreed. “I can’t wait for him to fill in the last bit so I can see it in its entirety.” She gave Cinnia’s forearm a squeeze and let go, waving the godparent form around. “I’m going to put this in your satchel. You won’t forget to get Brennan to sign?”

  “I’ll have it back to you by tomorrow,” Cinnia confirmed. She went over to her mother, who was busy chatting with Mysie. “Hey, ladies. Any news on Nixon?”

  “They’ll arrive in five minutes,” Mysie replied. “Jemma is still under the impression that he’ll only get out tomorrow, so I think you should go get her.”

  “Okay.”

  “Byron is waiting at my car.” She handed her keys to Cinnia. “Drive safely.”

  “Always,” Cinnia smiled, heading out of the warehouse to the parking lot. Most of the men had gone to prison to escort Nixon back, while Jemma’s mother had brought Connor and Sophie from home. They were currently playing with the other kids in a secluded part of the property.

  “Hi, ma’am,” Byron greeted at Mysie’s luxury sport car.

  “Hey.” Cinnia gave him a look. “You can be glad it’s not a weekday, or I would’ve protested your presence.”

  “Yeah, I heard all about your terms and conditions,” he chuckled. “I might be young, but I know how to protect you.”

  “That I know. Brennan would never pair me with someone who didn’t.”

  “Speaking of, I think they’re here.”

  Cinnia turned to the entrance of Drummond’s Customs & Repairs once she heard—and felt—the deep rumble of Harley Davidsons. She had to wait a few seconds before they appeared, led by Reade and Brennan. The club’s minivan drove in the middle of the fleet. She watched them all park close to where she was standing, her knees going a little weak at the sight of her fiancé.

  He removed his helmet and sunglasses, giving her a wink as he strode over. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”

  “I got distracted by all the noise,” she replied, eyeing the fifty-odd motorcycles that had accompanied him on his round-trip. She saw a man with a shaved head exiting the minivan and blinking in the sun. “Is Nixon okay?”

  “Yeah, he just misses Jemma. So, go get her already.”

  “Sir, yes sir,” she teased, pecking him on the cheek. She disabled the alarm of Mysie’s car and sat on the driver’s seat. The car was lower than she was used to, so her leather skirt exposed the fact that she didn’t have underwear on. By the look on Brennan’s face, he didn’t mind. “Can I help you?”

  “I think I’ll buy you one of these,” he told her, devils in his blue eyes, “if only to fuck you in it.”

  Cinnia went red while the prospect sniggered on the motorcycle next to her. “Later, babe,” she muttered, igniting the engine and speeding off, making it difficult for Byron to catch up. No wonder Mysie loved this vehicle!

  She decided to be less reckless once she hit the main road, feeling a bit safer once the prospect was closer to the car. She slowed down at an intersection and noticed a lone car idling at the sidewalk. She couldn’t see the driver, but something made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  “Odd,” she muttered, accelerating once the traffic light went green. She glanced in her rear-view mirror and spotted that fishy car following. “Could be nothing, Cin.” Only, at the next crossroad, it got close enough for her to make out the features of the man behind the wheel.

  Her blood went ice cold. It was him.

  Tapping a few things on the car’s navigation panel, Cinnia dialed Brennan’s number with trembling fingers. This could all be part of a long string of fucked up coincidences, but she did not like the look of Mr. Creep. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head.

  “You’ve hardly been gone for five minutes and you already miss me? I’m flattered.”

  On any other day, she would’ve laughed at Brennan for saying that. She was too anxious now, though. “Uh, Bren? Any news on that potential stalker I told you about?”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone flipping from playful to serious.

  “He’s behind me. It’s probably nothing, but… I don’t know. I feel like he was waiting for me at this one intersection, but how the hell would he know where I’m going? That I’m in this car?”

  “Cin, please breathe. Just take note of his number plate and see if he follows you all the way to the hospital, okay?”

  She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see it. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

  “You bet, lass.”

  She hung up and turned into the road that led to the hospital. She noticed Byron glancing over his shoulder and talking, so she assumed that Brennan was on the line with the prospect. All Raptors members had to have communication pieces installed in their helmets, for safety reasons.

  And then, at the last possible moment, Mr. Creep’s car appeared in her rear-view.

  “Calm down,” she muttered to herself, pulling into the parking lot of the hospital. Byron came to a halt next to her, his hand going to the small of his back. Her eyes stretched wide in alarm. “Surely there’s no reason for guns!” she hissed between clenched teeth.

  “Just a precaution,” Byron informed her while he stared at the car, which crept along the road and suddenly sped off. “That’s definitely not right.”

  Her palms were sweaty. “Okay, wait here and—”

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight, ma’am. VP’s orders.”

  “Fine.” She motioned for him to trail behind her as she sauntered into the hospital. She found Jemma at the nurse’s station. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Jemma greeted, a small frown between her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

  “You need to come to the club right away,” Cinnia answered.

  “I get off in—”

  “Right now, Jem.”

  The woman paled. “Oh no, is it the kids? What happened?”

  “The kids are at the club,” Cinnia responded, intentionally being vague. She didn’t want to ruin the surprise, and if that meant that she had to make her friend nervous for a while, then so be it. “I’m in Mysie’s car. I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Jemma swallowed and inclined her head. “Okay, be right there.”

  As Cinnia retraced her steps to the exit, she heard Byron coughing. “We’re surrounded by doctors so, if you need to get that checked out, just say the word,” she joked.

  “You can be very mean when you want to be.”

  She snorted. “Wait until I start meddling in your sex life.”

  “About that, I heard you’re the reason Teagan and Piper hooked up.”

  “I
don’t know where you got your information, but you’re mistaken,” she giggled. She took him in front head to toe. He was an attractive boy, especially because he was tall. His brown hair was in disarray at the moment, but it worked. Once he gained some muscle, girls are going to be all over him, if they weren’t. “Why? Do you want me to do the same for you?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Uhm, I haven’t really been looking. I just want to get patched in first.”

  “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but are you gay? ‘Cause I know for a fact that the women are as important to men as the patch.”

  “No!” He cleared his throat when she raised an eyebrow at his abrupt tone. “Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not gay.”

  “You sure about that? You did protest a bit unconvincingly.” He remained quiet and she let out a long breath. “Look, it’s no secret that the club used to be intolerant when it comes to sexual orientation, but ever since Reade took over, things have calmed down. As long as you’re still able to perform your duties in the club and look the part—in other words be a mean, bad-ass biker—they really don’t give a shit if you take it up the ass behind closed doors.”

  Byron winced. “I’m not gay. I’m just… curious.”

  “Bisexual, then?”

  “I think so. Please, don’t tell anyone.”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder and smiled. “It could just be teenage hormones, so don’t worry about it too much. You can make whatever announcement, or not, when you’re ready, okay? I won’t say anything.”

  “Thanks, Ci—ma’am.”

  She burst out laughing. “Damn, I almost got my way there.” She spotted Jemma exiting the hospital and waved her arms. “Over here!”

  Jemma rushed over, looking frantic. “You better start talking, Cin. I don’t like you using this official tone with me.”

  “Get in the car, Jem.” Cinnia started the engine and backed out of the parking spot once Jemma was inside. “I don’t want you to worry, okay? Just breathe. The kids are okay.”

  “Jesus!” Jemma rubbed her temples. “Then what is this about? My boss doesn’t mind me taking off early, but you can’t just show up at my work and—”

  “Careful, Jem. I’m Brennan’s old lady.”