Manacle (MC Sinners Next Generation #3)

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Manacle (MC Sinners Next Generation #3) Page 9

by Bella Jewel


  John smiles. “That’s a good way to be.”

  “I couldn’t do it,” Regan says. “My coffee costs me nearly ten dollars three times a day, and that’s the least expensive thing I have. I mean, just my shoes would cost more than my house.”

  She laughs, and so does everyone else. Even Preston.

  I don’t.

  I stare at this group of strangers and realize I’m so far out of my league it’s wrong. These aren’t people; they’re high-class snobs who look down on the rest of the world.

  “Well,” I say, “I couldn’t afford a ten-dollar cup of coffee.”

  “Well, no matter. You have Preston to make you into Cinderella now.” Regan smirks.

  “Trust me, it’d take a lot.” Preston jokes.

  That’s it. I throw my napkin down and look to the group. “Here’s something for you. I don’t want to be Cinderella, nor do I want to be a high-class bitch who thinks the world owes her something. I was raised with bikers, which Preston here is too ashamed to tell you. They’re my family, and I can tell you right now.” I stand, my seat screeching backwards. “They’re a thousand times better than the lot of you.”

  I turn and rush out of the restaurant, my stomach lurching with every step.

  “Skye!” Preston calls, charging after me.

  He reaches me just before I get to the street, grabbing my arm and spinning me around. “What the hell was that?” he barks.

  “Your friend insulted me and you thought it was funny, not to mention you refuse to talk about who I really am just in case it upsets your little image.”

  “I was just trying to protect you!”

  I laugh bitterly. “Don’t insult me, Preston. You don’t want anyone to know who I am, and you’re willing to do just about anything to change me. I am a biker brat; my family are bikers. I’m not posh or rich or spoiled, and I don’t want to be.”

  He glares at me. “You acted pretty damned spoiled in there.”

  God damn him. “You know what? This isn’t going to work. We’re done here. I’m going back to the hotel to get my things and I’m flying home on the next available flight.”

  “That’s stupidity, Skye. You can’t afford to fly home; you’re better off waiting with me.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Coming here and thinking this was the life I wanted was stupidity.”

  “If you leave, I’m revoking your ticket. You can find your own way home.”

  I stare at him, so hurt and shocked my voice comes out broken when I say, “Are you serious?”

  “I paid for you to come to Paris with me and you just embarrassed me in front of some of my best clients, then you proceed to tell me you’re done. If that’s the case, find your own way home. You can get your things from the hotel, but I don’t want you there when I return.”

  “I thought you cared about me,” I croak.

  He snorts. “So did I, but it’s clear your lack of manners and respect isn’t going to work. Good luck.” With that, he turns and disappears back into the crowd.

  I find the nearest cab. My stomach coils tightly the whole trip and as soon as I get into our hotel room, I rush to the toilet and vomit. Tears tumble down my cheeks as I shower away the cold sweat that lines my body. I feel so stupid for thinking this was ever the life I wanted. Travelling is everything, but only if it’s done with a person you adore. Just like Mercedes said.

  I’m so lost.

  So incredibly lost.

  ~*~*~*~

  $678.

  That’s how much it’s going to cost me to fly home.

  That’s money I don’t have. I just had to get myself a new hotel room, which set me back five hundred dollars for two nights, and now I’m left with only a couple of hundred. Not enough to get home. More tears leak onto my cheeks as I pick up my phone. I’m going to have to ring and tell my parents what has happened and hope they’ll come through for me.

  They don’t pick up the phone.

  I call eight times. No answer.

  I call Spike, Ciara, Granddad, Serenity . . . nothing.

  Great.

  My next option is Ava, who might just know where my family are.

  “Skye, hey honey,” she answers on the second ring.

  “Ava,” I croak, more sobs tearing from my throat. “I . . . I need help.”

  “Hey, calm down, what’s going on?”

  I tell her everything.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I’ll get it sorted out and we’ll get you home. Your parents are away at the moment; they all went on a ride so that’s probably why they’re not answering. Danny is holding down the fort while they’re gone; did you try him?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “I just need to get home. I’ll pay you back; he doesn’t need to know.”

  “All right,” she says carefully. “Listen, I’ll book a ticket. Just sit tight, I’ll call you back, okay?”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Anything. It’s what I’m here for. Love you. Just get some rest; I’ll get you home.”

  “Love you too,” I whisper.

  She hangs up and I curl into the bed, crying so many tears my body hurts. I drift into a broken sleep, but my broken body needs all the rest it can get so I take it.

  I just want to go home.

  ~*~*~*~

  Ava came through for me and got me a flight home the next day. I managed to get some sleep while I waited for the time to come for me to get to the airport. Preston tried to call. I didn’t answer. He chose to leave me in an unknown city to find my way home—he might have been mad, but that was low. I don’t need a man like that in my life. I’m just sorry it took this long to figure out.

  I feel like death this morning, but am determined to suck it up to get home on time. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. I just want to be in my own bed, away from everything.

  Moving through the security line, my stomach starts turning. I just have to get through and then I’ll be on my way. I’m nearly there.

  Just as I pass through the scanner, my stomach lurches and my hand flies to my mouth.

  “Miss?” the officer asks, his eyes concerned.

  “I’m going to be sick,” I cry out, frantically looking for something to throw up in.

  The man moves quickly, grabbing an empty plastic bag and thrusting it at me. I barely get it open before emptying the contents of my stomach into it. Shame rises in my cheeks, flaring them to life as people step backwards, disgusted. Tears run down my cheeks as I retch until there is nothing left.

  “Ma’am, we’re going to need you to come with us,” the officer says with thick French accent and a reassuring smile.

  “I’m fine. It was just something I ate.”

  “We’ll need to be sure of that. I’m sorry, please come this way.”

  I feel more shame as I grab my purse and follow him, carrying my plastic bag full of vomit, into a private room. He calls a cleaner, who promptly takes the bag away. A cold sweat breaks out across my brow and the man pulls on a mask. Great, he thinks I’ve got a damned disease.

  “We’re going to have to clear you before we can allow you to fly, I’m afraid.”

  God dammit.

  “It’s just bad food,” I protest, desperation rising in my chest.

  “Perhaps, but you understand that we can’t risk you going into another country or on board a plane if it isn’t.”

  Tears keep flowing.

  “I just want to go home,” I sob.

  “I’m very sorry, ma’am. We’ll make this as quick as possible, but will need to run full tests before we can clear you to fly again.”

  Arguing won’t change facts. They’re keeping me here. “What about my ticket?”

  “We’ll try to move it to a different date, but we can’t guarantee that.”

  “I can’t afford another one,” I sob.

  “We’ll do our very best, but for now we need to make sure you’re well enough. If you need to remain a few days, we can probably help
you out with accommodation.”

  More pathetic, broken tears.

  “Do I have to go to see a doctor?”

  He nods. “We’ll have you escorted to a hospital where they’ll run tests to clear you of any infectious diseases. If that’s all cleared, then you’re free to fly home. It can take a few days to get results, so you may check into a hotel and rest, but we don’t advise going out if you’re unwell.”

  “Aren’t I supposed to be quarantined or something?” I snap, pathetically.

  “We just need to clear you to fly. You’re free to go to a hotel, but you won’t be able to leave the country until you have a clean bill of health. Don’t panic, I’m sure it’s just a virus and will pass quickly.”

  I shake my head, so fucking broken. “Can I make a call to my family?”

  “Of course. I’ll give you some privacy.”

  He exits the room and I pull out my phone, dialing Ava.

  “Hey honey, aren’t you just about to board a plane?”

  “I’m sick,” I sob. “I threw up right outside of security and they won’t let me leave until I’m well.”

  “You’re sick?”

  “It’s just the food and water.”

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Are they going to refund your ticket?”

  “I don’t know. It’s all a big mess. I just want to come home. I’m so alone, so scared—oh God, Ava. I have nobody.” I hiccup and tremble as I speak.

  “I’m going to sort this out, I promise you. I wish I was there, but you’re going to be okay, I’ll make sure of it. We’ll get you home.”

  “I don’t want to be a-a-a-alone anymore. I’m afraid.”

  “Is there someone I can speak to to get an idea of what’s happening?”

  I find the officer in charge that is waiting just outside for me and hand the phone over. He spends fifteen minutes on the phone to Ava before handing it back to me.

  “Okay sweetie, he’s explained what’s going to happen. Once your testing is done, I have told him to organize a cab to a hotel that I’ll call forward and pay for. Go there, sleep, relax, and wait to see what happens with the results. I’ve told them I want full reports. I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper, my voice empty.

  “You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

  “I just want to come home.”

  “I know you do, sweetie. I know. I’m going to organize a hotel. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

  I hang up and turn to the officer. “Can we just get this over and done with?”

  I want to go home.

  I need my family.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I spend two hours at the hospital getting blood tests and giving urine samples. When it’s all done, I’m escorted to a hotel Ava has organized where I’ll rest until I get the all clear from the doctors. The room she booked me is nice, with a huge bed and a massive claw-footed bath. Exhausted, I go straight to the bed and throw back the covers, climbing in. My nausea has eased because the doctor gave me something to help it, so for the first time in a long time I get a decent, solid sleep.

  I wake to a pounding on the door.

  I blink rapidly and glance at my watch. I blink. Then blink again. I’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. How the hell did that happen? I knew I was exhausted, but I didn’t realize I’d slept so long. I push up, my entire body stiff and sore, and rub my eyes. It was early evening when I fell asleep; it’s mid-morning now, and the sun shines brightly through my window. I’m fairly certain I haven’t slept that long in my life.

  I get to my feet and walk to the door. Whoever is outside is continually knocking, over and over. I unlock it and jerk it open, then stop dead. Standing in front of me is Danny, tall, dangerous, and such a welcome sight my knees give way and I fall into him. His big arms go around me and I press my face into his chest, sobbing as relief floods me. I’m not alone anymore.

  “Ava called me when you were at the airport. I got lucky and managed to get on a flight within an hour,” he murmurs into my hair. “Why didn’t you call me, kid?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I mumble into his chest. “I . . . I’m so happy you’re here.”

  I pull back and look up at him. He studies my face and his hardens. “You look like hell. What’s goin’ on?”

  “I don’t know. They’re running tests.”

  “You been sick for long?”

  “About four or five days now.”

  He steps in and closes the door behind him, dropping a small bag onto the ground. “What about Preston? Where’s he?”

  “He . . . he left me.”

  He studies my face. “I know that, but where the fuck is he?”

  I stiffen. “Danny . . .”

  “He left you in a different country to fend for yourself, while you were sick. I find him, I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

  My bottom lip trembles.

  Still, it’s so good to see him. So good to hear his voice. I’ve missed him so badly. “I was so afraid . . . I’m so lost.”

  He steps forward and pulls me into his arms again, holding me so tightly I forget the world for a moment. “I’m here now, yeah? We’re goin’ to get you home, safe and sound.”

  “Why’d you come?”

  He doesn’t let me go. “I’ll always come for you, Skye. You should know that by now.”

  I hiccup and he steps back, taking my chin in his hands and tilting my head back. “You need to eat, drink, and get more rest. You look like hell.”

  “I just slept for fifteen hours.”

  “You need more. So do I. Let’s get some room service and sort you out.”

  “You flew eleven hours to save me.”

  He smiles. “I’d fly more.”

  I know he would.

  He finds the room service menu and orders some bland toast and coffee, as well as some fruit. Then he turns to me and points to the bathroom. “Go and shower.”

  I do as he asks without complaint, my sore body desperate for warm water. I take my time washing my hair and cleaning my body, but when I’m done, nausea is strong in my stomach once more. Pain flashes through my body and frustration follows quickly behind. I’m so sick of being . . . well . . . sick. I get out of the shower and dress, but I’m quickly on my hands and knees in front of the toilet once more, vomiting the small amount of water I sipped. There’s nothing else in there, yet it still comes out.

  “Hey, Skye, you okay?” Danny calls from the adjacent bedroom.

  I flush the toilet and push to my feet, sweat trickling from my brow. I open the door and one look at me has Danny’s face twisting with concern. “You’re not lookin’ so flash. Do I need to take you to a hospital?”

  I shake my head. “It’ll ease later; I just need to rest.”

  “You could be dehydrated.”

  I sit on the bed, my head pounding. “I think I’m okay now.”

  A knock at the door quickly distracts him, and he hesitantly turns and answers it. A lady comes in with our tray of room service food, placing it down and thanking us before rushing out. Danny opens the covers on two plates and gets a piece of unbuttered toast, handing it to me. “Try and eat this for me, yeah?”

  I stare at the toast, but I know he won’t give up unless I try, so I take it and nibble on the ends.

  “This too.”

  He passes me a glass of water.

  I sigh and take it.

  “Any idea what’s goin’ on?” he asks, sitting beside me on the bed.

  “No. I just know that it started when I got here. I think it’s the water or something.”

  “Shouldn’t last this many days.”

  I shrug. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  “Yeah. Until then, you’re going to rest.”

  I look to him, still nibbling on my toast. “Danny?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “Thank you for coming. I know . . . I know things have been hard since we last spoke.”

  He studies m
e. “I wasn’t goin’ to leave you here alone, Skye.”

  My heart aches because he’s not letting me in. He’s here helping me, but he’s keeping his distance. He’s blocking his feelings and ensuring I can’t see past the wall he’s built up. He’s treating me how he treats Mercedes and that hurts.

  “I know,” I whisper, staring at my toast.

  “I gotta make a call. I won’t be long.”

  I nod and watch him walk out of the hotel room. I’ve never felt so detached from him, and it scares the hell out of me.

  What have I done?

  ~*~*~*~

  Danny and I sleep for another eight hours, him on the couch, me in the bed. He’s always slept beside me without any hesitation, but now he’s hesitant, not touching me except from the initial hug we had when he arrived. He spends a lot of time on his phone. I called my family and told them what was happening, but aside from that I haven’t touched my cell.

  I wake before Danny and climb out of bed. It’s evening now, and the lights of the city can be seen through the light curtains of our window. I walk over and stare out between the curtains. I should be enjoying this magnificent place, not standing here wondering what the hell is going on with my body. Nausea is persistent in my belly as I move around, but so far vomit isn’t threatening to rise.

  A light distracts me as I try to move around the room quietly, and I see it’s Danny’s phone lighting up. I walk over and stare down at it. What I see has my heart cracking into a thousand tiny pieces. Now I understand—now I get how much me being with Preston must have hurt him. Never, not until this very moment, did I realize how much pain I put him through. I know, because I’m feeling the same hurt as I read the message displayed on the screen.

  Macy – I miss you, baby. I hope you come home soon, it’s not the same without you here. Xxx

  Danny has moved on.

  Danny is seeing someone.

  My heart twists and I turn, grabbing my phone and quietly getting changed into a cotton dress before rushing out of the room. I hurry down the halls, fighting my tears, and burst outside into the fresh night air. People bustle around me, but I move to a nearby bench near a stunning water fountain and sit down.

 

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