Fallen Princess

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Fallen Princess Page 11

by Chantal Fernando


  “Can you stop?” Rhett growls, not liking the idea of Cara finding another man attractive.

  I like that Felix isn’t really like that.

  While he does have that alpha side, he’s not all growly and bossy like these guys are. I grew up with that; I have to deal with that every day. Felix is more my peaceful place, where I don’t have to fight him at every turn like I do with the men in my family. He treats me as an equal, and I love that about him, even when he is technically my superior. There’s no posturing, no caveman shit, there’s just him. And yes, he can be protective, but he’s not overbearing. He’s a breath of fresh air, but at the same time he can handle his own and then some, and he isn’t a pushover. It’s like he knows when to be dominant and when to let me take the lead. He’s the perfect balance.

  He’s . . . mine.

  “As if I’d be perving on Clover’s man, Rhett,” Cara argues back, wrinkling her nose. “I’m just stating a fact.”

  “Yeah, everyone wanted to see a picture of him, so I found him on social media too,” Mom casually snickers. “I showed all the ladies, the whole lot of them, and they were all really impressed.”

  “Mom,” I mutter, putting my fork down and studying her. “Are you serious right now?”

  Sometimes I wonder if people ever really grow up.

  “Yeah, I posted it in the WDMC women group chat,” she says, flashing me a What are you going to do about it? look. “They all rated him out of ten, and he got a high score. I reckon if we could find a picture of him in his uniform, he might have gotten a hundred percent.”

  I look at my dad, who is simply scowling at Mom, but it quickly turns into his usual Why me? expression that’s mixed with annoyance. “Faye, what the fuck?”

  Mom is right, if Felix can accept all this crazy, he just may be the one.

  “Why aren’t we in the WDMC women’s chat?” Cara asks, brown eyes turning to me.

  “Because all they probably do is talk about us,” I grumble, sipping on my soda and feeling sorry for myself. “And rate our men.”

  “What score did I get?” Rhett asks, grinning and looking between us all.

  Mom cringes, flicking her hair back. “Ew, you’re like a son to me.”

  “So she has some boundaries,” I mutter, blinking slowly. “But good to know that I did well for myself.”

  Maybe the other women will like Felix then. I haven’t received any messages or scathing looks from them, so safe to say they aren’t all angry with me.

  It’s just the men I need to work on, and unfortunately Felix’s good looks aren’t going to cut it for them.

  Maybe Mom is right, maybe I should bring him to officially meet them all. I mean, with me and her there, they wouldn’t actually hurt him, and maybe if they got to know him, they’d even like him.

  He could be their exception.

  He sure is mine.

  TWELVE

  “I MISS you,” Erin, my old college roommate, says with a sigh. I move the phone into a more comfortable position on my ear, lying back in my childhood bed and getting cozy. Even after college, we never lost contact, calling each other every now and again for catch-ups.

  “I miss you too. When can I see you?” I ask her. “And how was your vacation? Man, you’ve missed a lot of drama while you’ve been gone.”

  “It was amazing, and whenever you like, I’m less busy than you these days. What drama? What have I missed? Have you shot anyone yet?”

  “Not yet,” I tell her, smirking at all the questions she’s been asking about my new job. She was the second person I told, after Cara, and I love how open-minded she was about the whole thing. I mean, she didn’t know the full extent of my decision, because she didn’t know about my being connected to the Wind Dragons, but it was still nice to have her support. “And no high-speed chases either, before you ask again. Let’s see, what have you missed. I’m dating my partner, which isn’t allowed, I don’t think, and oh, Rhett and Cara are also finally dating.”

  “Holy shit,” she whispers. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything.”

  An hour later, after I’ve given her the rundown, keeping a few details to myself, she says, “I’m never going on vacation without my phone again.”

  “I’d like to be on vacation right now,” I grumble.

  She laughs. “You’ll be fine. Oh, so before I forget, I actually called for a reason, before I got distracted,” she says, the sound of paper rustling transferring through the connection. “I need your address. I’m sending you my wedding invitation.”

  “Not wasting any time, are you?” I tease.

  “Need to get him locked in before he sees the real me,” she jokes back, writing down my address as I call it out to her. “Thank you. Should I be adding Felix onto this invitation?”

  “You sure you want two cops at your biker wedding?” I ask, feeling a sliver of guilt that, like with Felix, I never told Erin who I really was. It’s obvious I have issues with opening up, and maybe I’m even a little paranoid, but I know that I’ve completely fucked up by lying to the people who mean the most to me and are loyal to me. I need to change this.

  “I’m sure. My wedding will be neutral ground. Everyone is there to focus on me, not who they are or who they hate.”

  I pause for a few moments. “There’s something I should have told you when we first met.”

  Or at least when I found out she was dating Ace, a member of the Cursed Ravens MC.

  “What? That you’re the Clover Black? That you’re related to the men and women of the Wind Dragons MC? That to them, you’re the ‘me’? The princess?” she states in a dry tone.

  Erin quite literally is the “me” in the Cursed Ravens. Her father is the president of the club; only she didn’t grow up around bikes. She found out about her father only when she was an adult, and boy that did not go over well. We were roommates all throughout college, and she’d tell me stories, all while I didn’t tell her anything about who I was. I’m some shit friend sometimes.

  “Ace figured it out, Clover. You aren’t as on-the-down-low as you think you are.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

  “It was your business,” she explains. “I guess I was confused why you didn’t say anything, considering we had so much in common. The MCs aren’t at war or anything, and I guess you were just being cautious. I mean, I get it. I don’t go around broadcasting who my dad or fiancé is because that would be kind of stupid. Especially after everything I’ve been through, with people I thought I could trust, and that was in my own MC. It’s really hard to trust people. It sucks you didn’t open up to me about it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t consider you a good friend. I know if I needed you, you’d be there in a heartbeat, and friends like that are hard to find.”

  “I think it’s about time I admitted that I have trust issues,” I say to her, covering my face with my hands. “You and Felix, I should have just been honest with you both. I’m sorry, Erin.”

  “Ace did warn me that you could kill me at any time if you were in the mood,” she adds, laughing softly to herself. “I told him I was aware of how badass you are, but I also know that you’re a good person.”

  “Don’t tell anyone though,” I grumble.

  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She pauses, and then adds, “All of them.”

  “Well, now that you know everything, I can let you in on my latest predicament.”

  I give her a quick rundown on how I stupidly applied to the force with my own name, and now I know I never should have been let into the force that easily.

  “So what, you’re born into a family they don’t approve of and you’re guilty by association?” she asks, unable to hide her annoyance. “I never really thought about that before. Shit. If I had, I would have said something when you first told me you got the job.”

  “At least I’m not the only one.”

  “Why didn’t Ace say anything when I mentioned it to him?” she asks herself, th
en calls out, “Ace!”

  Amused, I listen to him call out “Yeah?” and I’m intrigued to see how this conversation is going to play out right now.

  “Ace, why are you naked?” she asks him, and I think she tries to cover the phone, because their voices suddenly become muted.

  Not enough that I can’t hear them though.

  “Don’t point that thing at me! I’m on the phone with Clover. Can you give me five minutes, please?” she asks him, and I laugh under my breath, shoulders shaking. I should probably hang up and leave her with her dignity, that’s what a good friend would do. A great friend though would stay on the line and give her shit about whatever she overhears.

  “Hang up the phone and come and sit on my face,” Ace demands, while Erin yells out, “Oh my god, Ace, she can hear you! Can you shut up, please? I’m talking to my cop friend. She can arrest your ass!”

  “What are you wearing under that dress?” he asks, and then I hear a scuffle of some kind, and I imagine him trying to grab her and her running away.

  “Clover, I have to go,” she says, panting. “I’ll call you back later. And pretend you didn’t hear what I know you just heard—”

  The line goes dead. And I laugh to myself.

  Shortly after, Rhett walks into my room, without knocking, the rude ass.

  “Dude, you could knock. I could have been naked, or you know . . .” I say, looking over at my top drawer. “Doing something else you’d much rather not see.”

  His face is one of pure disgust. “I don’t know why you feel so comfortable saying this shit to me, but I’d rather you didn’t. Now get in the car, we’re going shopping.”

  “Really?” I ask, sitting up. “What kind of alternate universe is this? Is it Cara’s birthday or something?”

  “No. And I was just joking: we’re actually going to the clubhouse to spar. I need someone’s ass to kick,” he says, smirking. He bounces on his feet, punching the air. “I’m in the mood to give a beatdown.”

  “You could try.”

  Damn my competitive nature.

  “Come on then, what are you waiting for?” he eggs me on.

  “Give me ten,” I say, jumping out of bed.

  It’s been a while since I’ve sparred with any of the Wind Dragons, but it used to be a regular occurrence, especially considering we have our own gym in the clubhouse. He closes the door, and I throw on some leggings and a sports crop top, grabbing a pair of socks and sliding them on, knowing I left my sneakers at the front door. I love boxing with Rhett. He acts tough, but he doesn’t hurt me like I know he could, he holds back and makes sure he doesn’t hit me with all his strength. Still, I enjoy fighting with the men, because realistically that’s who I would be fighting if I were put in a position where I had to defend myself. It keeps me on my toes and keeps me on my game.

  “Where are you going?” Dad asks as I step outside my bedroom.

  “Clubhouse, why?” I ask him, frowning.

  “Really? What for?” he asks me, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at me, sounding optimistic.

  “Rhett wants to spar, why?” I ask him.

  “Nothing, just didn’t know if you’d still be hanging out there with you being a cop and all,” he adds with a shrug.

  “I don’t care if they approve or not. The clubhouse is my home.”

  It almost feels like because of my choices, I won’t be fully accepted anywhere, in the force or with the bikers, and that hurts.

  “That’s true,” Dad murmurs, sounding a little too happy for my liking.

  “Can you mask that happiness a little?” I ask, rolling my eyes at him. “I know, Dad. You were right, I was wrong, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to listen to my advice on Felix?” he prompts, looking hopeful.

  “What was your advice again?”

  “Get rid of him.”

  “Oh, no. But if you end up being right, I’ll prepare myself for another I told you so,” I say, lifting up on my tiptoes and giving his stubbled cheek a big kiss. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, Clo,” he says, expression softening. “I just wish you were less stubborn than your mother, instead of more.”

  “You sure I got this stubbornness from her?” I ask him, arching my brow.

  His lip twitches. “You’re right, we’ve doomed you from the start.”

  “I’m going to go and fight some grown-ass bikers. Don’t wait up for me.”

  His low chuckle follows me to the front door, where I put my shoes on and head outside, where Rhett is waiting for me, standing against his bike.

  “Ooohh, am I allowed to ride on the back of your bike? I feel like Cara never actually gave me an answer,” I say, lifting the phone in my hand and hitting her name on my recent-call list. I know it was fine before, but they weren’t together then. I don’t think she will care, but I don’t feel right not saying something. It’s her man, and his bike, and in our world, that means something.

  “Hey, Clover,” she says sweetly. “I was just eating an ice cream and thinking about you.”

  I share a look with Rhett. “That’s kind of creepy, but okay. Just wanted to call and ask if I’m allowed to ride on the back of Rhett’s bike or if you’re going to turn into the standard crazy, jealous biker chick?”

  Her laughter is musical. “Any other woman? I’d cut them. For you? Bitch, ride away. What’s mine is yours. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.”

  I blink slowly a few times. “I hope the cops haven’t tapped my phone.”

  “No wonder you have trust issues.” She sighs. “Go have fun. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  “Okay, ’bye.”

  I run back inside and return with my leather jacket, ready for a ride and a fight, more excited than any sane person probably would be.

  Ah, well.

  Sanity is overrated.

  THIRTEEN

  “SCARED you’re going to lose to a girl, Nate?” I ask, holding my fists up in front of me.

  “Yes, actually I am,” he admits, trademark cheeky smirk on his face. “You’re not just a girl, Clover. I’ve been watching you fight my whole life, and frankly, I’m not that stupid.”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s training. I’m not going to just kick your ass in front of everyone. You haven’t pissed me off enough for me to do that. Also, you shared your booze with me.”

  What Rhett failed to mention when he brought me here was that today was his turn to give the younger crew a boxing and self-defense lesson, not that it would have made me change my mind about coming. I love the fact that we make sure the younger generations can protect themselves; it gives us all peace of mind, and is great for fitness and discipline, too.

  “Clover, let’s show them how to block,” Rhett calls, pulling me away from annoying our president’s son and back to work.

  He tells me to come at him and blocks every punch and hit I throw at him.

  “When did you get so good?” I ask him, grinning.

  “While you were doing cop stuff,” he replies with a smirk. Trying to catch him off guard, I land a kick in his gut, but then he turns me around and puts me in a choke hold. A few elbows and another kick, a little too close to his nuts, has him letting go and stepping back.

  “Low blow, Clover.” He cringes, cupping himself. “Cara might kill you if you render me unable to perform.”

  “Ew,” I say, doing a handstand on the mat, and walking on my hands. “Who wants to race me like this?”

  “I do!” calls out Natalie, Cara’s younger sister, who happens to be a gymnast.

  “You’re on, Natty,” I call out, just as Arrow walks into the gym, eyes on me.

  Shit.

  What have I done now?

  “Clover,” he calls as I stand back up and step toward him.

  “Yes, Uncle Arrow?” I ask in my sweetest tone, one I know he sees right through because his frown deepens.

  “Come and have a chat with me.”
/>   Fuck.

  I give Rhett a Save me look, but he just shrugs. No one can save me from the president. Following him, I grab my phone and jacket before he leads me to the kitchen, where he opens two beers and slides me one. Not how I thought this moment was going to go.

  I can’t help but stare at his big, bushy beard as he talks. “Hand me your phone.”

  “Why?” I ask, brow furrowing.

  He holds out his hand.

  I give it to him.

  He turns the tap on, fills up the sink, and drops my phone into it.

  My mouth opens and closes, like a fucking fish. “I had some really nice photos on there.”

  Luckily I have a backup.

  “We found a tracking device on your car, so just being careful,” he says, studying me with those wise brown eyes of his. “We have a big problem here, Clover. And your dad tells me you’re carrying on about your life, pretending nothing is happening.”

  “That’s not true. I’m well aware something is going on, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be doing my job while I have it. People rely on me,” I say, taking a sip of the ice-cold beer. “Do you think they’re trying to find something on the club and are using me to spy? It seems like a lot of effort to go to, don’t you think? Especially when we don’t actually have some huge secret to hide from them.” I lower my voice. “Wait, do we?”

  “They probably think we do,” he replies in his raspy voice. “Be careful what you say, because they’re just waiting for something they can use against us. And you. If they can get you for being corrupt, trust me, they’re going to do that.”

  “Looks stupid on them though, doesn’t it? For letting me become a cop in the first place.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I should just quit,” I say, looking him in the eye to see what he honestly thinks I should do about the situation. “I need your opinion, Uncle Arrow, because I’m at a loss here. I love the job, and it sucks that I won’t be able to keep it, but I can’t keep going on like this forever knowing that my own employers are out to get me. If I wanted that, I’d go work for a crime boss or something. And it’s their loss, because I’m an amazing officer, and no matter how they feel about me or my family, they can’t deny that.”

 

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