by Bella Jewel
“I’m starting to think I need to see the rest of them,” I say, grinning. “One was good enough, but two more ...”
“I don’t know who their parents are,” Scarlett breathes, “but they have incredible genetics.”
We all laugh, and I turn to Saskia while the other girls continue their conversation. “I need to talk to you.”
She stares at me, narrowing her eyes. “Is it bad talk or ...?”
“Well, it isn’t bad, but you’ll get frustrated. Possibly angry. Which is understandable, but I have to tell someone, I know I do. But, Boston kind of told me he needs space, and even though he told me to tell him if anything else happens, I don’t really want to.”
Saskia nods, and then stands. “First round of drinks is on us.”
She takes my arm and we both scurry off to the bar, ordering a round of drinks for the table. It’s quieter here, and we don’t risk any chance of being overheard. Not that I don’t trust any of the girls here, I do, but I just want to make sure I’m doing the right thing with my bestie first, before I go getting the club and everyone else involved.
“So, talk to me,” Saskia says, facing me as we both sit on a stool and wait.
“I had a visit from Yolanda today.”
Her eyes flash, and then she furrows her brow in confusion. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear anything from my dear sister again. I’m not going to lie, I’m shocked. What did she want?”
“She is still messing around with Enzo. Has some big plans to run away with him and raise their baby together. The problem is, according to her, they owe people money now because of what I did, and they want them paid. Then they want extra, so they can disappear and start over.”
Saskia shakes her head. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t giving them a damned thing, but she basically told me they will find a way of making me, and that didn’t sit well with me. So, I want to know from you, am I in danger or is this some ditch attempt at getting cash because they’re out of options?”
Saskia frowns, purses her lips for a second, and then says, “You know, six months ago I would have said it was just talk, but things are different now. I had to learn that the hard way, which makes me think yeah, Enzo is fucked up enough to do what he has to to get money. I don’t think they’d do anything awful like kill you, but I do think he’d happily have someone hurt you, or take you, or do something to drive you to giving them what they want. He’s not the same man I once knew, he’s not a nice person anymore which means he is capable of doing anything.”
I nod, running my hands over my dress and smoothing it down. “That’s what I thought. So, my next question is, what do I do about it? I don’t want to involve Boston directly, but I’m thinking I’m going to have to tell the club, I don’t know who else might be able to deal with this for me.”
Saskia nods. “I think the club will more than happily help, but Boston isn’t going to sit back and not be involved, he’s going to find out. I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep it from him.”
I sigh. “I’m trying to keep this away from him, not just for his sake but my own. It’s getting hard, you know? Seeing him. Trying to get over this stupid flood of feelings I have for him. I know he’ll want to protect me, but I am also trying to create distance. I don’t know how I’m going to do both those things if he finds out.”
Saskia nods, fully understanding. “Let me think on it, okay? Don’t say anything else, to anyone. I’ll see if I can come up with a better way, but please know, I’m not going to let that asshole of an ex hurt you, because you saved my backside. I won’t...”
I grin at her. “Girl, I know you won’t. I’ve seen you in action.”
She laughs, and glances over at the table, and her eyes flash. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
I turn and see all the bikers, and the three new brothers, walking into the bar. My eyes zone in on Boston, and my chest aches to see he’s looking at Penny. She smiles at him, and he nods at her. He hasn’t looked around for me. I want to slap myself for being so damned pathetic, but it kind of hurts. Doesn’t he even want to know if I’m here?
“Baby girl,” Saskia says, clicking her fingers in front of my face. “You’re Chantelle. Chan-fucking-telle. Don’t ever let me catch you looking at a man like that again, with pain in your eyes, thinking you’re not enough. Because honey, you’re more than fucking enough and if he can’t see that, it’s his loss. You find that spark, you hold your head high, and you show that ass what he’s missing.”
I laugh at her, because damn, what would I do without her?
But she’s right.
I’m not going to let him see me hurting.
He’s not doing this on purpose, I fully understand that, and I’m not about to make a game out of it. But at the same time, if he wants me to move on, and he wants to move on, then I have to get my Chantelle back, and stop letting this hurt.
So, that’s what I’m going to do.
I’m worth it.
I’m damn well worth it.
~15~
NOW – CHANTELLE
Damon.
Middle brother.
Hot. As. Sin.
Also, an incredibly great guy.
Malakai introduced us to the brothers when Saskia and I finally made our way back to the table with our drinks and some for the rest of the girls. I’d already met Lincoln, the night I was at Mason’s house, but Damon and Finn. Holy lord. They’re just as good. All of these brothers were blessed with some incredible genetics. Finn is the youngest, but even then, he’s so masculine it’s hard to see him as anything but manly and powerful.
He’s got these sky-blue eyes, olive skin, and thick, dark, long hair. His body is all muscle, but he’s not got a drop of ink on him. Clean skin and gorgeous. Damon looks a lot like Finn, with the same eyes, only his hair is a little lighter, more a dark brown than black, and it goes to the base of his neck, curling up at the ends. He’s got ink, all up his arms, and no doubt on his body, but not as much ink as Lincoln.
Lincoln is the top dog.
The alpha.
Followed closely by Slater. It’s clear to see those two run the show.
Slater is a whole different dimension, the broodiest, the darkest, the most broken.
Damon came over and introduced himself to me when I went to get some more drinks, and the conversation flowed easily. It’s a nice distraction, because the tension between Boston, Penelope and I, could be cut with a damned knife and I’m finding it hard to breathe around it. So, I’ve been doing the drink runs.
After we delivered the drinks back to the table, Damon and I got chatting, about life in general. He’s the loudest of the brothers, and definitely the most playful. And he manages to do all of this, while keeping that incredibly masculine, powerful feel he lets off when you’re around him. It’s out of this world. And the perfect balance.
“Are you the only girl here not tied up with one of these bikers?” Damon asks as we sit at a side table, drinking beers.
“No,” I laugh. “Penelope isn’t with any of them. It’s a long story, but I’m starting to think it’s just too complicated for me.”
He studies me, those eyes almost mesmerizing. They practically glow against his olive skin.
“Like a good story, darlin’.”
“I’m sure you do,” I grin at him.
“Prettiest fuckin’ girl in this room, don’t know why anything would be complicated when it comes to you.”
I laugh and nudge him with my shoulder. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
He shakes his head. “Not wrong. Not even close.”
I smile at him and he grins back. I like him, yeah, a whole lot. It’s nice to feel okay, even just for a second, because lately I’ve felt nothing but confused and uptight. I take a sip of my drink and glance over to see Boston watching me, the moment our eyes meet, his flash and he looks away. He doesn’t look agitated, he just looks ... empty. Like he doesn’t feel a
nything, and that sucks.
“So, you and your brothers have an underground fighting ring?” I ask Damon.
His eyes hold mine, and he raises his brows. “How’d you know that? Not something we go around sharing, considering it’s illegal.”
I snort. “I couldn’t honestly care what’s legal and what’s not. I think every one of these men in this room are the best things since sliced bread, and I’m sure they’re not always doing everything legal. I find it fascinating what you do.”
Damon grins at me. “Definitely one of a kind, aren’t you? Yeah, we run one, can’t go into too much detail, but it’s hectic, and crazy, and fuckin’ over the top sometimes. But it’s life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I nod. “That’s awesome.”
And then something pops into my head, and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. Of course, it’s probably not the correct path to take, but the fact is that Slater and his brothers, they’re dangerous, and strong, and probably equally as equipped to help me out with my little Enzo problem. They’re helping the club, so they can be trusted, and it might stop me from involving Boston any more than he already is.
Judging by the look he just gave me, he doesn’t want to be involved anymore, anyway.
That kind of hurts, but I shake it off.
“Can I ask you something, Damon?” I say, turning so I’m directly facing him now, not wanting anyone to overhear.
“Yeah, what’s on your mind, darlin’?”
“You deal with crappy people, right? I mean, you know how to deal with crappy people?”
He narrows his eyes. “Depends on what type of crappy people you’re talkin’ about?”
“Well, theoretically speaking, if I had a problem, and a person wanted money from me, because he seems to think I owe it to him, and is threatening me because he thinks that’ll make me hand it over, that would be a crappy person ... that you could deal with ... right?”
Damon tilts his head to the side. “Someone botherin’ you? Why haven’t you gone to Malakai?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I have, and the club will gladly help me even though I’m not with any of their members, but, well, things are complicated ... and I don’t think I should ask for their help, which leaves me wondering how the hell I’m going to deal with it?”
Damon studies me. “Got to know, before we take this conversation further, is this going to be something the club wants to deal with, and you’re pullin’ it out from underneath them? I can’t cause any problems for Slater, you gotta know that. We need their help...”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. I wouldn’t cause a problem if there didn’t need to be one,” I exhale. “Look, you’re right. Please forget I said anything.”
I take another long drink. It’s not enough. I need the alcohol to burn tonight, to get right into my veins and just take the pain, confusion and frustration away. It seems like it’s just not working quick enough, though, and that’s making me even more frustrated.
“Not sure I can just forget it, now you’ve mentioned it to me,” Damon says. “Got a lot of respect for your club, and you seem like a great chick. Not sure I like the idea of someone botherin’ you, and you not willing to get the help you need for it.”
“Look,” I say, my voice straight down the line, my words honest. “Boston and I, we had something okay? But, he also had something with someone else. Because of that, he’s cut contact with the both of us. He was the one helping me out with the situation, and he’s told me he will continue to do that, but you can understand why I’m hesitant to let him know that I am in further than I thought? I’m trying to protect myself. And him. And while that may seem petty, I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
Damon hums low, and then nods, “Makes more sense now. Why not just go to Malakai, and explain exactly what you just told me?”
“Because Malakai and the rest of the club, they respect Boston. They’d tell him, purely because they wouldn’t keep something like that. There isn’t one single one of them that would...”
I trail off, and my eyes move to Maverick.
But there is. There is one of them that would help me, and not tell Boston. But could I do it? Could I ask for his help, knowing that if Boston found out, he’d be hurt? My chest clenches. God. I just don’t know. I don’t freaking know and it’s doing my head in.
“Let me talk to Slater,” Damon says, and I jerk back to the conversation with him. “Might be able to sort something out.”
“No,” I say softly. “You know what, you’re right. I’m just going to suck it up and talk to Malakai.”
I’m not.
But I don’t need to create any complications for the club by going through Slater and his brothers. Or Maverick. Or anyone else.
No.
I think I’m just going to have to deal with this one on my own.
Somehow.
~*~*~*~
CHANTELLE
“So,” Saskia says, leaning against me, her eyes hazy and cute because she’s drunk as hell. To be fair, so am I. And it feels good, finally. “Damon ... hot!”
I laugh, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “Totally hot. But ... I’m just not ... I just...”
“I get it,” she smiles at me, squeezing my waist. “Don’t feel the need to explain. Boston is still in there, and until he’s out, you’re not going to be able to look at another man.”
I nod. “It sucks, honestly. I feel like I should just flip it all the bird and go find the hottest man I can and take him home, but for the first time in my life, that doesn’t feel right to me. I don’t even want to.”
“You’ve changed,” Saskia feigns a gasp.
“I know right,” I laugh. “I used to be cool. These ladies,” I poke my breasts, “Used to get me where I needed to go and now ... I’m all hung up on a stupid ass man.”
Saskia giggles. “Let the ladies out again, maybe they’ll lead you in the right direction.”
I snort laugh and turn around to see Boston and Penny are missing. My first reaction is a slam to the gut. They’re not here. Did he take her home? I saw him having a basic conversation with her earlier, which kind of sucked, because he’s yet to even speak to me, and that fucking hurts. It really does. How come he’ll talk to her, but he can’t even offer me a simple hello?
My eyes scan the bar, and I feel deflated when I don’t see them.
“They’re gone,” I whisper to Saskia, and I know she can hear my voice as it trembles.
She glances around, and her eyes swing back to mine. “Honey, they live together, they probably just got a ride home.”
I exhale.
I need some fresh air.
“I need some air.”
“Chan...”
“Please, Sas, I just need some air.”
I let her go and walk out of the bar, past all the eyes that zone in on me. They all know, and yet none of them say anything about it. They probably feel sorry for me, which makes me feel even fucking worse.
I shove out the front doors and stop in my tracks. Boston and Penny are sitting on a wooden chair on the sidewalk, talking. They don’t hear me, probably because there are other people out here, and cars zooming down the street past them. I take a step forward, and go to make myself known, but I stop when I hear their conversation.
“It’s hard for me, Boston,” Penny says. “It’s hard to be in the same room as you, and her, knowing you’ve been with her. You’ve slept with her, and yet you’ve only kissed me. I feel like a stupid jealous teenager, and it’s ridiculous. You’re right, I think the best thing we can all be doing is staying away from each other.”
He kissed her?
That hurts.
Dammit, why does that hurt?
I know how she feels, and honestly, I feel for her. It sucks. It sucks so hard. But the frustration I feel seeing him talking to her, when he couldn’t even look me in the fucking eye, hurts. It hurts because how come she deserves the respect of a ba
sic conversation, but I don’t?
I guess I know where the bigger part of his heart lies.
“Know that,” Boston murmurs. “Hard for me bein’ in the same room, too. Believe that. It ain’t easy, on fuckin’ anyone. You look fuckin’ beautiful tonight, it’s hard for me to focus.”
God damn.
That hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.
It hurts more than I ever thought it would.
I’m an idiot. A damned idiot.
How could I have ever let him in?
Tears burn under my eyelids, and I’m ashamed, because it feels weak as hell for me to feel like crying, but that’s what I feel, like breaking down and crying until the pain goes away. I never cry, especially not over a man. So, the fact that my eyes sting, and my heart aches, and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind, makes me feel pathetic.
And angry.
So wildly angry.
“You jerk.”
Boston and Penny both turn around, and the moment their eyes meet mine, his flash. He stands up, but I don’t let him talk. No. Fuck him. I’m done with this. I’m done with games. And feelings. And emotions. And everything else that comes with it. I’m done. So fucking done. I take a deep, staggering breath, and I try to force my tears to stay where they are. I don’t want him to see me cry.
“You know,” I say, my voice shaky, but I don’t care. “I’m a human being. I’m an actual fucking person. The very least, the fucking very least I deserve, is respect. You walked in that door tonight, and you didn’t even look at me, let alone acknowledge me. You told me you were staying away from us both, but I can see now that is a bullshit lie you used to try and get me to go away. All you had to do, was say the word, and I would have left you the fuck alone.”
“Chantelle,” Boston says, his voice rough and gravelly.
“No,” I say, putting up a hand. “No, you don’t get to speak. How come she deserves respect, and I don’t? You know what? I don’t want the answer to that damned question. I’ve given you enough of my time, I’ve hurt enough, I’ve done what you wanted. But you know what?” I look to Penelope. “You can have him. He’s all yours. And please, don’t think I have anything against you, because I absolutely do not, but I deserve more. God, I deserve so much fucking more than to be some mans ‘I wonder if she’s the one’.”