Manacle (MC Sinners Next Generation #3)

by Bella Jewel

  “But it does hurt, doesn’t it? All that pretending didn’t take away from that.”

  “No,” I say softly. “It didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Skye.”

  I shrug and turn around. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. Are you going to take me out so I can get to know this city or what?”

  She smiles. “Hell yes I am.”

  “And Diesel, is he coming?”

  Her smile becomes genuine and beautiful. “Nah, he’s playing tonight, but we can swing by and see him if you’re up for it.”

  “I love how his band sounds, so totally!”

  “Awesome. I’ll go home and get changed then come back.”

  I hug her and watch as she goes to the door. She looks back to me when she reaches it. “Hey Skye?”

  “Mmmmm?”

  “Welcome to Denver, honey.”

  Welcome indeed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You got all that?” the chef asks, nodding at my hands full of four large plates ready to be served.

  “Ah, yes, I think so.”

  “Don’t drop it. People pay good money to be here, Skye. You don’t want to throw their dinner on them.”

  I nod nervously and turn, slowly making my way out into the dining room. I’ve been working Seraphina, at a fancy restaurant in town, for the last week. I don’t know how I managed to score the job, but they liked me and decided to give me a go and see how well I could cope. It pays enough to cover my rent and food, which is good. I don’t have much outside of that, but paying the bills and keeping me fed with a roof over my head is all I need until I can figure out what I want to do next.

  Mercedes loves college, but I’m still not sure it’s for me. Sometimes I think it will be easier to save and just disappear, but without any experience, getting a job in another place could be hard. So right now that’s my goal. To get experience enough so that I can travel and work without anything holding me back. I may learn to love it here in Denver and just save enough to take a lot of holidays. Either way, money is key.

  “The rare steak?” I ask, stopping at the table of women and men that look so sophisticated I’m sure they’ll see straight through me.

  They barely notice me.

  “Here,” a man in a tuxedo says, flicking his hand.

  Jerk.

  I place it down and then continue on serving the other orders, then it’s back to the kitchen to get more plates. The next table is a group of younger people, possibly my age, slightly older. They’re from the rich side of town—that’s clear in the fact that they’re dining here and they’re dressed as if they have cash. I approach the table and one of them catches my eye. He’s handsome, possibly around Danny’s age, with light brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. He smiles at me, which makes me feel instantly at ease.

  “Hi there,” I say before calling out the orders.

  I hand them all out, stepping around the table to serve the last one, and my shoe catches on the chair. I stumble a little but the handsome guy reaches out, catching my arm. “Careful there,” he says, his voice silky and sophisticated.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, placing his plate down. “It’s my first week.”

  “Don’t be sorry; we all have to learn. I’m Preston.”

  He extends his hand and I take it. His fingers are long and lean and curl around mine easily. A flash of Danny’s big, burly hands flicker through my mind, and I quickly put it down. I’m stepping away from the biker world for a reason. I have to let Danny go.

  “I’m Skye.”

  He studies me. “And that’s short for?”

  I blink. “That’s all of it.”

  “Right,” he says, clearly confused, before he places his smile back. “It’s lovely to meet you, Skye.”

  “You too, Preston. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  He nods, and I disappear back to the kitchen to serve. The night is long and hectic, but every time I glance over at Preston’s table, he’s studying me, a smile on his lips. I flush and look away, but it’s nice to be noticed. It’s only ever been Danny’s eyes checking me out, and it feels strange to have an unknown person watching me, admiring me. It’s a giddy feeling, and one I like.

  As soon as my shift is over, I get my things and head out, needing fresh air and a good coffee. I have a bad habit of drinking coffee at night, and it’s proving to be hard to kick. I move towards the café at the end of the block when my name is called. I turn around. Preston walks towards me, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking so well put-together it hurts. I smile and give a lame little wave. It’s the best I’ve got after a long day.

  “I thought it was you. Finished your shift?”

  I smile and rub my arms. It’s chilly out, and of course I’d gone out without a jacket. “Yes, it was a long one, too. I was just looking for a coffee shop.”

  “You’re new to the area?” he asks, shrugging off his jacket.

  I nod. “I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.”

  He smiles. “Then let me show you the best coffee Denver has to offer. Here—take my jacket. Your lips are going blue.”

  I laugh nervously but take his jacket, sliding my arms through the sleeves. “I wasn’t expecting it to be cold.”

  “It’s been quite the sudden change of temperature. I wasn’t expecting it either.”

  I smile again and he waves a hand towards the busy main street. “Shall we?”

  I nod and fall in step beside him.

  “So what brings you to Denver?” he asks.

  “I just wanted to give myself a clean slate, decide what it is I want to do with my life, and I’ve always liked it. Plus, family isn’t too far away, so I can visit often. I hope to do some travelling, too.”

  “Travel, you say?”

  “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to see the world. Probably a far-fetched dream, but it’s something I’m working towards.”

  “It’s not far-fetched,” he says, taking my hand and leading me across the road. My skin prickles on contact, but it’s a nice feeling. “Everyone should have a dream, and you’re working hard to make it reality. Good for you.”

  “What about you, Preston? What are your dreams?”

  He laughs. “I’m living my dream. Today I got promoted to assistant manager at my father’s company. One day, I hope to take his role.”

  “Wow, that’s huge. What company is it?”

  “We deal in buying and selling shares, things like that.”

  Impressive. “You’re successful for your age; good for you.”

  He shrugs. “I worked hard.”

  “I imagine.”

  We slowly come to a stop beneath a small gold awning. “Come on, this is the best coffee shop around. Let’s get a seat.”

  I study the immaculate building, filled with people way out of my league. I hesitate and glance down at my worn shoes. I will probably get kicked out on the spot, judging by the jewelry and fancy clothes hanging off some of the people sitting at the tables.

  I shift uncomfortably. “I’m not really dressed for a place like this.”

  “Nonsense. Trust me.”

  He pulls me inside and a waitress instantly recognizes him. “Preston, we’re not used to seeing you this late.”

  He flashes a killer smile. “I met a lovely lady tonight, and she wanted to experience the best coffee around.”

  The waitress flushes and looks to me, her face changing with a mixture of shock and awe. “Well then, let’s get you a seat.”

  We move past the tables and I get a good deal of stares that make me fidget, but I don’t let them put me off. The coffee in here smells amazing. Preston pulls my chair back for me, and we sit down at a table that’s nestled back from the others, letting us converse freely.

  “This place is lovely,” I admire.

  “You wait until you try the coffee.”

  He’s grinning at me, and gosh, he really is a good-looking guy. Not in the rugged kind of way Danny is, but in the wa
y that makes him look like he could take on the world with a simple smile. We order our coffees and chat about life in general as we wait for them to arrive. When they do, I stare down at mine, shocked and wanting to shoot it down with excitement all at the same time. It looks incredible, in a tall clear glass with fancy work on the froth that would make artists cry.

  “Wow,” I say, lifting the glass. “That’s an impressive cup of coffee.”

  “They hire someone just to do the art on the froth.”

  I blink and stare at him. “Seriously?”

  He nods.

  Jesus. I take a sip, and the second the rich coffee hits my tongue, I moan. The moment I realize I’ve moaned, I slap a hand over my mouth.

  Preston laughs. “It’s okay. We all have that reaction our first time.”

  “This is amazing,” I breathe. “Seriously.”

  “It’s the way they make it. I’ve been trying to get the secret to their method for years.”

  “There’s a hint of spice in it,” I say, sipping it again. “And it’s so creamy, yet strong enough to get a hit all at the same time.”

  “Magic.” He smiles.

  I smile back.

  This really is nice.

  ~*~*~*~

  “You went on a date?”

  I cross my legs on my new bed and laugh. “Yes, Daddy. A real date that wasn’t chaperoned by bikers.”

  He grunts. “I knew about it, I would have made sure you didn’t get off so easily.”

  I giggle. “I’m a grown girl, and besides, it was nice.”

  He grunts again. “You know I don’t like you datin’ when I haven’t met him first.”

  “Well, it kind of just happened so there was no notice, and then there’s that thing about me being a woman . . .”

  He chuckles. “Miss you around here, princess.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you and Mom are enjoying your quality time.”

  “We are!” my mom yells out from the background.

  “Dad, am I on speaker again?”

  “Easier than holdin’ the phone to my ear.”

  “Hi Mom!” I yell.

  “Soon as your dad gets off that phone, we’re talking about this date.”

  “On that note”—I laugh—“I have to go to bed.”

  “You’re not getting away with it that easily, squirt. What’s this guy like?”

  I sigh. “He’s nice, Daddy. Really nice.”

  “He got tattoos?”

  I snort. “No.”

  “Can’t trust him.”

  I chuckle. “Dad . . .”

  “Truth, baby.”

  “Some dudes that have tattoos are bad—surely you know that.”

  He grunts. “This is true.”

  “Hey Dad?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Mmmm?”

  “Have you seen Danny around?”

  “Yeah every day, why? You haven’t spoken to him?”

  “No.” I lie, “I haven’t been able to catch him I’ve been so busy. Will you tell him I asked after him?”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Sure,” I say quickly—probably too quickly. “I just miss him.”

  Dad makes a sound in his throat, then says, “Ava is hopping beside me. She wants to talk to you.”

  I laugh. “Put her on.”

  “Love you, angel.”

  “Love you too, Daddy.”

  There’s a shuffling sound, then Ava quickly takes me off speaker phone. “You haven’t called me. What did I tell you about ignoring me? Don’t make me use my aunty moves on you.”

  I snort. “Please don’t. You’ll embarrass yourself.”

  “What’s been happening, and don’t say nothing! I heard your dad say you went on a date. A date!”

  I giggle. “Slow down, chicky. It wasn’t a proper date, just coffee. It was nice.”

  “Tell me all about this guy.”

  “I will, I swear, but I have to go and get some sleep or I’ll never get back to work on time.”

  She huffs. “Fine, but I’m not happy about not knowing.”

  I smile. “You’ll know soon enough. Hey, Ava?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “Have you spoken to Danny?”

  She sighs. “Honey . . .”

  “Then you know what happened before I left?”

  “He told me everything—like, literally everything from start to finish. Why didn’t you tell me that you two had so much history? I mean, we all knew he cared about you, but he always acted as if you never knew. We all thought he hadn’t told you.”

  “He didn’t really. We were friends for longer than anything else. It only started seriously when you and Lucas got together. It’s the first time we . . . well . . .”

  “No wonder shit was weird with you two after that.”

  “Yeah, and I have tried calling a few times but he doesn’t answer. I need to talk to him, Ava. You’re the only person who can make that happen.”

  She goes silent for a while. “He needs time, honey,” she says gently. “He’s hurting.”

  My chest clenches and tears burn under my eyelids. “I never wanted to hurt him—I swear that. I just couldn’t promise him what he wanted me to promise him. I can’t be an old lady. You know that. You know me. It doesn’t mean it isn’t killing me . . .”

  “I get your side of it—fuck, deep down I think he does too, but he still needs time.”

  “I need to talk to him,” I say, my voice sounding more desperate than I’d like.

  “I can’t get in the middle of this; you know I can’t. He’s my best friend.”

  “He’s mine too,” I whisper.

  “Oh honey.”

  “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up the phone and let the tears roll down my cheeks.

  Danny won’t speak to me, and I can’t let things go on the way they are.

  There’s only one thing to do, and I hate that I’m going to do it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I hesitate, staring at my phone screen and hovering my finger over the send button. I shouldn’t do this, because I know what it’ll do to him, but I’ve called and texted and passed on messages—he won’t speak to me. I know he’s hurting—God, I know it—but I need to clear the air. Before all the feelings were involved, he was my best friend and I’d do anything to get that back.

  So I hit send.

  S – I’m in trouble, Danny. I need your help. Please.

  The second the message sends, I cringe and wish I could take it back. I don’t want to alarm him, but it’s the only way I might get a chance at talking to him. He’ll be pissed as hell, but he’s already angry with me so what does it matter? I rub my arms and wait, staring at the phone, praying he’ll take the bait. It’s just after five here, and I finished my shift ten minutes ago. He could be here in less than two hours, if he decides to respond.

  My phone buzzes.

  D – What’s wrong?

  My heart flutters. A full month has passed, and he’s not responded to a single call or text. The fluttering quickly turns to a burn when I realize he’s clearly been reading every message I’ve sent because he responded to this one. Which means he really doesn’t want to talk to me. Tears burn again, but I force them down, reassuring myself that this is the only way.

  S – I got into some trouble after work. I’m scared. I have no one else to call.

  D – I’m on my way. Where r u?

  I text the details of my work place and tell him I’m in an alley behind it, then I pray he won’t explode and leave before I get the chance to say what I need to say. Danny has a wild temper, just like Spike, and sometimes he doesn’t give a person the chance to talk. I need to plan what I’m going to say if I’m going to get the words in before he leaves.

  I find a spot against a brick wall and sit, just waiting, going over my speech in my head. I want him to know that I love him, that I’m sorry, that it’s killing me being away from him. I also want him to try and understand why I’
m doing what I’m doing. If I could be with Danny, I would be, but the life he’s chosen and the life I want for myself are so far apart that there’s no way it could ever work.

  Am I being selfish giving up the man I love to try and move on and have my own life?

  I’m deep in thought when the rumble of a Harley-Davidson catches my attention. My heart speeds up, and I push to my feet. I didn’t even notice the time pass—I was off in my own world—but it’s been well over two hours. I stand and stare at the entrance to the alley, my heart pounding, my skin prickling. When he steps around the corner, I lose my breath.

  He’s in full club get-up, with his leather jacket thrown over a dark black tee. He’s wearing black jeans and heavy black boots with chains looping off the sides. He’s got rings on his fingers and thick silver chains around his wrists and one around his neck. His hair is messy, unruly, and hot as hell. His eyes find mine, and I want to melt into them. Fierce yellow eyes that right now, look more confused than anything.

  “What’s goin’ on?” he asks, coming in closer.

  “I . . .”

  “What kind of trouble are you in?”

  His eyes scan the alley and I step in closer, getting a waft of his masculine scent. God dammit. This is going to be far harder than I’d first thought.

  “Danny, I . . . I’ve been trying to talk to you for over a month and you refuse to contact me. I had no other choice.”

  His eyes flare and he takes a step back. “You’re tellin’ me you fuckin’ lied so I’d come here?”

  “You have been avoiding me. I felt like I had no choice,” I say pathetically.

  He loses his shit. Like I knew he would. I brace.

  “Are you fuckin’ serious?” he thunders. “I rode down here, worried as fuck you were hurt or something was goin’ to happen to you, only to find out you fuckin’ lied because you weren’t getting your own way? How fuckin’ typical of you, Skye.”

  I flinch. “You refused to speak to me. I had no choice!” I yell.