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Possess: An Alpha Anthology

Page 19

by Anthology


  I turned, facing a woman I remembered as far prettier and far more intimidating when she dressed in the slinky lingerie and heels. Now, Alexis wore only baggy jeans and a flannel shirt. The rolled cuffs didn’t hide the fresh tracks on her arm. Her eyes still dilated with the latest hit.

  This wouldn’t be a friendly visit.

  I forced a smile. “Hey. I was just dropping something off for Gold.”

  Wrong answer. Alexis stiffened. She threatened with sharpened claws painted fire-truck red.

  “You fucking him?”

  Whoa. “No?”

  “You’re a goddamned whore.”

  Took one to know one. I let it slide. “I’m not sleeping with him. I just brought him some medication.”

  Her eyebrow arched. Of course she liked that sound of that, but my pharmacy didn’t extend beyond heartworm medications, flea powders, and antibiotics—all of which Alexis probably could have used, but I wasn’t passing judgements. She grabbed the bag and peeked inside for painkillers.

  “Where the fuck is Gold?” Alexis hissed. “Did you suck his cock then come back for more?”

  “I have no idea where he is.”

  “Fucking liar.” Alexis pointed at me. “You’re a goddamned liar. You know where my baby is, don’t you? Cock-sucking whore. Where the fuck is my baby?”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell I was telling her where the baby was, even if I knew. Her hands trembled too violently to hold the paper bag of medical supplies. Last thing she needed was a six-month-old baby tumbling from her arms.

  My chest squeezed. No wonder Gold left.

  So whose bike parked in the driveway?

  “I don’t know where your baby is,” I said. “Or Gold, for that matter, or I wouldn’t be here. Sorry. I’ll just…get out of your hair.”

  Alexis swore as I turned for the car.

  It took one slap across the cheek for the world of the Anathema MC to flood back to me.

  Blood and violence. Bullets and whores. An angry father counting stolen hundred dollar bills. Everything that was Anathema followed me, including the man I once thought would be different, even if he wore the same scarred demon on his cut. The damn club buried my father, lost our childhood house, and put me through vet school with dirty money earned from muling drugs.

  I spent too much time around dogs and cats and fretting owners. I carved out my own practice in a corner of the world isolated from the craziness. I even had a chance to hang my degree on the wall instead of my father’s gun. But one good slap to the face, and I remembered what I lost when Gold broke it off with me.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore.

  Alexis swiped again, but no one harmed a Scott without recourse. Two years of Judo and growing up as Bullet Scott’s daughter taught me to keep my nose clean while breaking my opponent’s. I grabbed Alexis’s wrist and twisted, dropping her to her knees. It was a familiar place for the whore and earned her attention real quick.

  “Look,” I said. “Sorry you’re having a disagreement with Gold. I don’t know anything. Give him the package when you see him or don’t. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m leaving. Get out of my way.”

  Alexis shrieked like a banshee with a temper tantrum. I grunted and released her arm.

  I didn’t get far. The profanity tasted sweet, but I didn’t utter it.

  The gun cocked too near my head.

  And I recognized the scary son of a bitch who held it.

  Priest was older generation—not quite my father’s, but older than Gold. Grey touched his temples, but the rest stained in darkness, the kind that seeped too deep into a lot of men’s hearts and turned them angry, vengeful, greedy. He wore an Anathema cut, but he wasn’t a member. Not anymore.

  The Coup split from the club, and I returned to the Valley from school in time to catch the fireworks. Men dead in the street, police and the Feds dispatched to handle the carnage. Splintered clubs and areas of town that weren’t safe after dark.

  I doubted Gold knew a ranking officer of The Coup shacked up with his old lady.

  Or that Priest lurked in his house while he was gone.

  Alexis rocked up from the ground, edging too close to my face again. I stilled. It wasn’t the gun that worried me. I knew enough of Priest—the enforcer for both Anathema and The Coup. He had one hell of a trigger finger but more than enough restraint. He wouldn’t fuck with a civilian.

  Alexis though?

  I didn’t trust a goddamned thing she did.

  She pushed me, and I fell against my car. Her claws poked at my chest again, and she leaned close enough for me to see where the makeup caked over her drawn features.

  “You know where my baby is,” she hissed.

  This was not my fight. “I really don’t.”

  “Gold stole my baby.”

  “It’s his baby too.”

  Wrong answer. Alexis hauled off and hit me, her nails tearing a thin line against my cheek. I pushed to get her away. Priest’s gun poked at my head.

  “Answer the question,” Priest whispered. His voice creaked, hardened with a disuse that came after a heavy binge and rough night with the girl of his choice.

  I doubted Gold knew what was happening in his house. I didn’t want to know what was happening in the house.

  But, Christ, I was glad he got Silver out.

  “Maybe you ought to come inside.” Priest brushed my hair behind my ear with the end of the gun. “We can talk in there. Got some problems we need to sort out.”

  “I’m not involved,” I said. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Pretty little ass like yours doesn’t come lookin’ for Gold unless she’s involved.”

  Goddamn it. I shouldn’t have answered the door last night. I shouldn’t have offered for him to stay. I shouldn’t have stayed up until four in the morning worried sick about him and the baby and his injury.

  The gun butted against my temple. Big fucking mistake, but it wasn’t as bad as the roar of the truck up the street.

  I didn’t belong at his house.

  And Gold sure as hell shouldn’t have returned.

  Alexis screeched as the truck pulled into the driveway and lurched to a stop. He leapt out, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the glass. A gun untucked from his pants.

  And I was caught in the path of the shootout.

  “Annie, get in the car,” Gold said. “Alexis, get your fucking ass in the house.”

  “Where’s Sophie!” Alexis aimed her claws for him. She lunged, but he didn’t bother with the gun. He batted her away, and her own drug-addled dizziness tossed her to the ground. “Where’s my baby!”

  Gold stared only at Priest. “Left your fucking condom here yesterday.”

  Priest snorted. “Be glad I used one this time.”

  “Get the hell off my property.”

  “Or what?” Priest didn’t help Alexis to her feet. He aimed dead center for Gold’s forehead and sneered. “Wanna end this now, boy?”

  “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

  “You don’t have your backup.”

  Gold’s voice hollowed. “And where’s your fucking band of traitors to help you? They’re all too busy getting high and whoring to show.”

  “Don’t need em.” Priest wiggled the gun. “When was your last confession, Gold?”

  “Ain’t got nothing to confess for.”

  “That right?”

  Gold clenched his jaw. “Where’s my fucking bike?”

  “I’ll trade it for the baby.”

  His temper flared. The stormy blue of his eyes flashed with the jagged threat of lightning.

  “You come anywhere near my kid, and I swear to god, there’s not enough guns in the Valley to protect you from what I’d do.”

  Alexis tantrum’d in the dirt, cursing at Gold with everything profane she could utter without her own gun pointed at him. He ignored her.

  “Annie,” he said again. “Get in the car.”

  I stared at Priest. His gun didn’t waver,
but I earned his blessing to leave.

  I wasn’t about to leave Gold.

  “Go, Annie,” Gold ordered. “Now.”

  Okay. One thing at a time. I edged into the car, starting the ignition with easy, gentle movements. Priest didn’t pay attention to me.

  And why would he? He aimed only for Gold.

  My heart raced, crashed, and shattered in the split-second I made the decision, but my father’s blood pumped in my veins. Anathema’s blood. Just because someone pointed a gun at us didn’t mean we were beat.

  I shifted the car into reverse, my hand on the gear shift. Priest didn’t move as I rolled back a few feet.

  I’d fucking regret this.

  I threw the car in drive, jammed the accelerator, and twisted the wheel. Priest jumped too late to get out of the way. I bumped him, not nearly as hard or as fast as I needed to hurt the bastard. His ass landed on the ground, and his shot went wide.

  Alexis screamed, but Gold sprinted. I kicked it into reverse and narrowly missed clipping him as he dove to the truck. Another shot rang out. Didn’t know if it was his gun or Priest’s, but I wasn’t staying to find out.

  Gold launched into his truck, the wheels burning as he turned one eighty and sped after me.

  I didn’t stop at the intersection. He aimed for the highway instead.

  I hadn’t expected him to follow, but I knew where he went. He rode to collect his men. To ready Anathema for battle.

  But I wasn’t Anathema, and I wasn’t about to get my ass involved in any street war.

  I sped across town and drove as if all The Coup followed in my wake.

  But no one followed me home.

  Not even Gold.

  I pulled the trigger on my own mistake. The bullet felt like another round of misery, heartbreak, and danger, threatening to destroy us again.

  Chapter Six

  Gold

  What the hell was I doing at her house again?

  Jesus Christ, enough shit happened because Annie showed up at mine. What the hell right did I have to stand on her front porch and pound on her door?

  The same goddamned right she had almost getting killed at my place.

  My fist nearly pummeled through the glass. “Annie! Open the damn door!”

  A second passed. Then another. I’d fucking explode if I let it last beyond a minute. I pounded again.

  Annie answered, baseball bat raised over her head. She dropped it after she peeked through the window.

  It wasn’t for my benefit.

  The door opened. Silver greeted her from the carrier with an exasperated coo. She giggled enough watching me make a fool of myself knocking. Now she smiled at Annie. She was equal parts adorable and complication, and I never should have let her come between me and the woman get away.

  “What are you doing here?” Annie hid the bat like the kid had any clue. I was still grateful if only to preserve her innocence and my skull a little longer.

  “Can I come in?”

  She would have said no. If I hadn’t had the baby with me, she would have slammed the door in my face, and I’d probably deserve it. Except I knew she wouldn’t refuse the kid and leave her cold and outside, even if Silver was the reason I never got that third date with Annie.

  I’d never fucking apologize for my baby, but I’d exploit the hell out of her if it meant Annie had no choice but to talk to me.

  She moved aside for us. For Silver. I followed her to the living room, shutting and locking the door behind me. Annie paced until I set the kid on her coffee table. Her eyes fell to my daughter.

  “What the fuck were you doing?” I demanded. “You almost got killed.”

  “Me?” Annie’s chocolate eyes darkened to coals when she got mad. Always did. “If I wasn’t there, Priest would have left you bleeding in the damn gutter. Why the hell was Priest in your house?”

  “Alexis is shacking up with him.”

  “Did you know?”

  I didn’t like to swear in front of the kid. I usually did, but I tried not to. “If I had known, do you really think I’d let my ass get cuckolded by some junkie dancer whore? Think I’d let my baby stay in the same house as that lunatic?”

  “You didn’t tell me you’d left the house.”

  “You didn’t say you’d come after me!”

  Annie used to have her old man’s temper. College mellowed her, and getting the hell away from the MC probably helped too. But she hadn’t changed much, just grew from the scrawny girl into one fucking beautiful woman—classier than me and far more deserving of a life where she didn’t have to ram a car into a man holding a gun to both our heads.

  She exhaled. “What are you doing here?”

  I hated myself for asking it. “Pixie ain’t no place for a kid. Not after we fucked with Priest. He’ll have The Coup rolling around Pixie as soon as the sun sets, and I’m not putting Silver in danger.”

  “So you brought her here?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Wanted to make sure you’d be okay too.”

  She gestured around my house, quiet and tucked away in the far edge of town in a good neighborhood, a neighborhood squarely located in Anathema’s declared territory.

  “Think I’m okay,” she said. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need any of this. God, I was such an idiot coming to look for you. I can’t believe I got involved in this again.”

  “You know I never meant to hurt you.” I tucked the little pink blanket around Silver’s chin. “Ever.”

  Annie leaned close, taking a good look at the reason we had split. Silver wasn’t big, but she was fifteen pounds of trouble, complication, and the greatest gift I ever received.

  Even if I hadn’t got my shot at Annie.

  Even if I hadn’t tried to make it work with her.

  “You think there’s going to be a fight?” Annie sat on the couch. She rubbed a timid finger against Silver’s puffy little cheek. The kid fussed, but she was just tired. Her eyes drooped, and she was out like a light. That was the good thing about the baby—hadn’t developed much sass yet. “Is she safe?”

  “She’ll always be safe with me.”

  I stabilized the carrier and readjusted the blanket. She’d be out for hours. Wasn’t great, was hardly seven, but at least she was comfortable. More than I could say about me.

  “Annie…I’ll keep you safe too.”

  “No way.” Her voice hardened. “No. Gold, God. Are you listening to yourself? You had a gun at your head today. Last night you nearly had a knife through your brachial artery. Your bike is stolen, and Priest—of all The Coup’s psychopaths—declared war on you.”

  “Par for the course, baby.”

  “Not for me.” She brushed the dark hair from her face. The angles sharpened now that she grew up, sweeping into a graceful sophistication that didn’t belong with me, in Anathema, or even in my goddamned dreams.

  Except I always dreamt about her.

  All the fucking time.

  I dreamt about the only time I ever kissed her. About how her hair caressed her cheek. About how her legs stretched from the floor to her chin and swelled in perfection everywhere that counted. She was all hips, all chest, and all attitude, most of it pissy and reserved for me.

  “I didn’t mean to bring you into this.”

  “Yeah, you should have thought about that before knocking at my door. Christ, Gold, I didn’t even have time to scrub your blood off my porch.”

  I shrugged. It hurt, but I didn’t let on. “I didn’t ask you to come after me.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Annie groaned, head in her hands. “I didn’t know if you were hurt or alone, who did it to you, if the club knew. Fuck, I didn’t even know if you made it to Pixie after Priest shot at you. I called for you, and damn it—” Her voice broke. “Keep hadn’t seen you. I thought something…I thought you...”

  “Had to grab the kid from Thorne and Rose.”

  “Christ, you should have told me! Called me. Done…something…” She swore, her hands pointi
ng to the clinic tucked behind her kitchen. “You realize I’m a successful veterinarian now? I’m a doctor. I have my own practice and my own life. I’ve been out of the MC ever since my dad died, and I had no reason to ever come back.”

  I guided her into the hall, away from the sleeping baby. It wasn’t completely magnanimous. The hall pushed her closer to me. For as much as Annie meant to walk away, to fight me, to slap at my arms and force me from the house, she didn’t bolt. Too upset to punish me, not nearly brave enough to cast me away.

  And maybe I was an idiot. Maybe I let one good thing in my life get away to make way for another, but not now. Not while she paced. Not while she confided in me.

  I wasn’t selfish enough to wish that Annie had stayed, that she had fought to be at my side. She knew a shitty situation when she saw it, and she was a good enough woman—a fucking lady—to respect my wish to start a family with the whore who didn’t deserve the miracle we created.

  “I didn’t ask you to come for me,” I said. “I needed your help. Just wanted some needle and thread. If I could have reached, I’d have done it myself.”

  “Think that makes me feel any better?” Annie tangled her fingers in her hair. “Think I want to be your afterthought?”

  The rage tightened my chest. I held my arms out. It did nothing but fail to intimidate a woman who saw through all of my bullshit.

  “What would make you feel better?”

  She grimaced. “Nothing. Forget it.”

  “No, seriously. Want to know how much of an afterthought you were?” I swore, but the words broke over my own cracked laughter. “Want to know how much I thought of you when I was in the army? When every night I hid from enemy fire and thought of you as my reason to make it back? How it was your face I saw when I stepped on that fucking IED and woke up in the goddamned base with half my arm blown off?”

  “Gold—”

  “After I healed up, the only thing that kept me from riding to Colorado to find you at college was that I didn’t have the gas money or the fucking pride to show up in a cut to a fancy university and pick up a girl who was better than me.”

  Annie looked down. I wasn’t tolerating that. I hadn’t seen those beautiful eyes for too damn long, and she wasn’t hiding from me now.

 

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