His petulant tone is laughable, proving he’s still sulking about finding Lacey at my house with my cock in her. Like he has any claim on her. She’s free to fuck who she wants. Enjoying the crabby look on his face, and ignoring the tightening in my temples at the thought of Lacey in bed with someone else, I try to rev him up some more.
“What’s Maddi busy doing? Breaking someone else’s arm. Ruining someone else’s ca—”
The rest of my sentence is strangled in my throat when Smoke closes the distance between us and squeezes my neck. In other circumstances, I’d fuck him up for laying his hands on me, however I’m not at my strongest and I’m handicapped with only one functioning arm, so after a few futile attempts to dislodge him, I flop back against the raised head of my bed.
“You might wanna rethink your fucking attitude before someone finishes what Maddi started. We’ve got enough shit going down without dealing with your bullshit. Try acting your age instead of being a fucking child for once. You feel me?”
He glares at me, waiting for a response. I make him wait, satisfied that I’ve gotten under his skin when he squeezes my neck harder than before.
I nod, and he lets go with a final shove.
“What’s she busy with?” I ask again. I’m curious, desperate to know if she sent Smoke because she’s not talking to me or because she’s legitimately busy. I can handle most things, but Maddi being upset with me is not one of them.
“You’ll find out. I’m to take you to the Compound so you’re with everyone else on lockdown. You’ll be filled in then.”
Smoke shrugs when I quirk my right eyebrow at him, ignoring my silent request to tell me more. “Get your shit together. Let’s get out of here. The sooner you’re at the Club, the sooner I can be done with your junkie ass.”
His pot-shot about my drug use pisses me off, making me clench my good fist and bite my tongue so I don’t give into the urge to pummel his arrogant face. He’s no saint. We’ve gotten fucked up together before. My subconscious tries to undermine my self-righteousness, reminding me that it’s doubtful that Smoke’s ever shot up.
Once I’ve grabbed my stuff out of the ensuite bathroom, I walk over to him, coming to a stop a step too close, just for shits and giggles. He pays me no mind, denying me my reaction, too busy fucking around with his phone. I cough to get his attention and he lifts his head to look at me, shoving his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He stares at me longer than necessary, making me want to squirm under his gaze.
Well, that backfired.
“Fuck, you look like Beast. You’re gonna be a constant fucking reminder.”
Rolling my eyes at his melodrama, the smirk that was beginning to curve my lips, dies an immediate death when Dad’s demand to prospect pops into my head. I’ve tried not to think about it over the last few days. Now D-day is staring me straight in the face and the moment has come for me to decide if I’m going to follow through.
“Fuck you, Sam.” I draw out his real name, lifting my eyebrows up and down at him. “It’s more of a hindrance than a blessing being as good looking as me. You’re not missing that much.”
With that parting shot, I awkwardly sling my small bag over my left shoulder and walk out of the hospital room.
It takes him a few seconds but he starts after me, mumbling under his breath the whole way. I hide my grin when he catches up with me and shoots me a disgruntled look.
Who’s acting like the child now?
CHAPTER FOUR
LACEY
Present Day
“Why do I need to come to the Compound? I’m not part of the Club anymore.”
“We’re on lockdown. You should’ve been there two days ago. Everyone’s been blowing up your phone trying to tell you. We’ve done drive-bys of your house and your parent’s. No one could find you. Come on, Lacey. Pack a bag of clothes so we can fucking go.”
I glare at Timber with my hands on my hips. I’ve been laying low for days, trying to avoid this inevitable showdown. Lenny’s Old Lady had left a message about lockdown on my phone so I went into hiding, except for seeing Benji.
The last place I want to be is locked in the Compound with Maddi, Dr. Patrice...and Benji. The previous two days have shown me a different side of him, drawing us closer, yet I know if I’m at the Club with him, he’s going to revert to his manwhore, don’t-give-a-shit-about-nothing ways. He’ll be back to belittling everyone with his acerbic tongue and cracking jokes at our expense. My heart couldn’t survive being on the receiving end after the tranquil days I’ve just spent alone with him.
“We have news about Connor,” Timber tells me in a quiet voice. “You deserve to find out what’s happened when everyone else does.”
Clenching my teeth and ignoring the tickling of my nose as my tears well, I turn my back on Timber and Kid, who came to my house with him. Striding into my bedroom, I leave the pair of them squirming uncomfortably, and looking at the floor. Fucking Timber. He knew that would make me go with them. Throwing myself face down on my unmade bed, I give into the tears. Letting them run down my face and drip onto my sheet, sobs break free from my chest, and I don’t try to keep the men in my lounge room from hearing.
Coming from Timber, news about Connor means he’s either dead or about to be. When he turned rat and tried to help the Mavericks of Mayhem make a hostile patch-over of the Black Shamrocks, he signed his own death warrant with the Club. Considering the plot he was part of failed, and he ran off with one of the Club’s Old Ladies, he was always going to end up dead.
Rationally, I’ve always known this would be the outcome for the man I once considered the love of my life, but hearing the words is something else. “News” in the outlaw biker world is rarely good.
“Shhh, Lacey,” Kid whispers as he closes my bedroom door behind himself. He sits next to me on my bed and rubs my back. “Don’t cry over that piece of shit. He’s not worth it.”
Rolling onto my side, I grab a tissue from the box on my bedside table and wipe my face. Still sniffling, I look up at Kid. His eyes are filled with a kindness that soothes me as much as his words. The gangly red-headed man is the same age as Benji, yet he’s still skinny and boyish looking, while Benji has filled out and is all man. The odd-couple springs to mind when you see the best friends together.
“I know, Kid. I don’t know why I’m crying. He doesn’t deserve my tears, not after what he did. Not after what he left me to deal with.”
Pushing to his feet, he regards me from under pulled-together eyebrows, towering over me with his ridiculous height. His expression is sober as he speaks to me.
“You’re crying for the man you thought he was. That’s normal.”
Kid’s eyes blaze with intent, and I know he’s going to bring up what he saw that night nearly two years ago. Flashes of Connor’s angry face when he wrapped his hands around my neck before Kid knocked him to the ground make their way from the box I have them locked in, deep down in the bottom of my consciousness. As always, it causes me to swallow the embarrassment and fear that comes with this type of memory.
Raising my hand, I hold it, palm forward, in front of his face as I tell him, “I don’t want to go there. You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“And I haven’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry about how you’re dealing with it.”
“I’m fine,” I say, making my way past him and into my bathroom. “Just leave it alone and keep it to yourself—”
“Try pulling my other leg,” Kid quips. “That one sings Christmas carols. I’ve seen you with Benji. I know you’re dealing with your shit the same way he is...by getting off your fucking head.”
Swinging around, I make my way back into my bedroom and try to slap his face. He catches my wrist and pulls me into him. His mouth moves as if he’s searching for the right words to say, but nothing comes out, giving me the opportunity to tell him off.
“Screw you. You know nothing.”
“Lacey, I know more than I let on. If you have half a br
ain, you’ll stay away from Benji, and let someone capable take care of you. Benji can’t even look after himself at the moment, let alone you and your issues.”
I wrench my hand from him. Rubbing my wrist, I spit my warning at him. “Get out of my room. Better still, get out of my life. Keep your mouth shut about what you think you know or I’ll tell Benji how highly you think of him.”
He shakes his head at me, a sardonic smile crossing his face.
“I’ve already told him what I think, so go ahead. You two are gonna lose everything if you don’t heed someone’s advice.”
When he turns and walks to my door, I pick up a shoe that’s lying on the floor and throw it at him. It bounces off the back of his head, before hitting the door and landing at his feet. He kicks it out of his way and continues on his way, throwing a parting comment over his shoulder.
“Starting to think you two nutcases are perfect for each other. You can fucking flame out together and give the rest of us two less things to worry about.”
***
“Thanks for the ride,” I mumble, handing Kid his spare helmet. Shuffling from foot to foot, I wait for him to take my bag out of his saddlebag. I cradle it to my chest once he passes it to me, and follow him inside the Shamrock’s Clubhouse.
After my childish behavior, I was mortified to learn that I was to ride on the back of Kid’s Harley to the Compound because we had to swing past the hospital on the way to pick up Dr. Patrice from work. She’s now officially Timber’s Old Lady, and pregnant to boot.
I’m getting the feeling a lot’s gone down over the last few days that I’m clueless about. Normally, I’d be in the loop due to phone calls from Maddi and the other Old Ladies I’m close with. Maddi must still be upset with me about Benji, and the other women have taken her side. I push away the thought that they haven’t phoned me because I’ve been standoffish and haven’t been returning their calls during the last few months.
The deafening roar of the bar hurts my ears when I enter behind Kid. I come to a stop just inside the door, watching as Timber and Dr. Patrice make their way hand-in-hand to Maddi who’s slumped in the far corner with her younger brothers and stepmom, Wendy, huddled around her. Benji isn’t part of their group.
Anxiety makes my stomach turn as I watch Maddi and Dr. Patrice talking together. I hope they’re not talking about me. Even though, I managed to warn Benji not to say anything about me, there’s still no guarantee that they haven’t figured it out themselves.
Forcing my attention from them, I look around the bar for Benji, my anxiety increasing with each excessively friendly face I encounter during my search. My worry quickly turns to annoyance when I realize that everyone is regarding me with open sympathy not welcome, some of them moving past sympathy into pity.
What do they know that I don’t?
“Come sit with us,” Timber’s mother, Mama C, beckons me over to her.
She’s sitting with most of the other Old Lady’s, sharing a bottle of wine. As I make my way over to them, I can’t help feeling naked without my Property of Connor vest, especially when I run my eyes over theirs.
Once upon a time, it was my favorite thing to wear. My heart swelled every time Connor would slide it over my shoulders, and I was thrilled by his demand that I wear it everywhere. His possessiveness, his constant phone calls, and his obsessive need to know where I was at all times used to seem romantic. Nowadays, thinking about it makes my skin crawl, even though I’m nostalgic for the sense of belonging I felt as his Old Lady in this club.
Dropping my bag to the floor and kicking it under the table they’re gathered around, I unconsciously rub the wolf tattoo covering the top of my left arm, as I greet everyone.
“Are you going to get that covered?” Mama C asks.
I look down at it, taking in the intricate detail and remembering the meaning behind it. Connor isn’t my ex-boyfriends real name, it’s his road name. His actual name is Hamish, but he was only ever called Connor. He was given the road name due to his love of wolves and his ability to stalk and track his target. His mother told everyone he’d fallen in love with wolves as a young boy and had never outgrown it. Connor was Gaelic for “Lover of Wolves” and it fit him perfectly.
“Lacey?”
Pulling myself from my thoughts of Connor, I plop down on the free seat and shake my head at her.
“I’m not covering it. It’ll be my eternal reminder to never fall for a man’s lies ever again.”
Tutting at me, Mama C, looks about to rebuke me when she’s interrupted by the slamming shut of the entrance to the bar.
“Next time, you’re riding bitch. I don’t give a fuck if it’s your bike or not.” Benji exclaims. “Fuck riding behind you, ever again.”
Smoke scoffs, “You’re lucky you even got your ass on the back of my bike. You can walk next time, asshole.”
The noisy bar falls silent at their arrival. Heads swivel in Benji’s direction and mouths drop open.
“Take a picture, you nosy bastards. It’ll last longer,” he reprimands the worst of those staring before making his way over to Maddi. Smoke is hot on his heels and Timber gets to his feet as if to stop him. It takes a subtle nod from Maddi for Timber to sit back down and let him through.
Gently shoving his little brothers aside, he drops to his knees in front of Maddi and wraps his arms around her. A grimace covers his face as he moves his broken arm, but he doesn’t pull away from her. After a noticeable pause, she hugs him to her. Her bright eyes glisten and I watch her bottom lip tremble. My friend is a mess and it breaks my heart that I helped make her that way. There’s nothing I can do yet to fix the bond I broke—the bond I’ll continue to violate every time I lie to her from now until eternity.
Conversation hasn’t resumed in the bar, so I can hear what they’re saying with a small amount of straining.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
“Get off the drugs. Go to rehab.”
It seems as if everyone in the room holds their breath as they wait for his answer...or his tantrum.
“I won’t use anymore. Nothing. I promise. One last chance. Please. If I fuck this up, I’ll go to rehab without a fight.” Benji’s pleas are raw, heartfelt. If I hadn’t heard him say the same thing at least a dozen times during the last few months, I’d believe him without hesitation.
“Last chance, Benji. I can’t keep doing this. I’m tired, and I have my own problems to worry about.” Maddi sounds defeated, almost broken. I want to go to her and ask her what’s wrong, but she chooses that moment to raise her head and meet my eyes across the room.
Cerulean blue flashes with warning, letting me know that we’re going to have our issues out soon as well. It’s not something I’m looking forward to. Dropping my gaze, she pushes Benji away from her with a hand on each of his shoulders.
“I want you to do one last thing for me.”
“Anything,” he declares.
“I want you to promise me you’ll look after my best friend. If she’s just a drugged-up fuck for you, walk away now. Walk before you hurt her. If you’re more serious than you seem to be, then you need to step up and take care of her. We both know she’s been hurt enough. Don’t be a dick and string her along. It’s for your own good, and Lacey’s, that you walk away now.”
My breath catches in my throat when she meets my eyes again. Her goodness, her worry for me, tries to reach me from across the room. After all I’ve done—the lies, the secrets, the half-truths, and the broken trust—she still has my back and loves me enough to call out her twin brother on my behalf.
I felt bad before, but that’s nothing on the guilt that overwhelms me now.
I stuck a needle in her twin’s arm.
I stuck a needle in my own arm.
I lied, cheated, undermined.
I’m evil. An absolute bitch. The worst of the worst.
The devil disguised as an angel that’s found its way into the Club’s midst.
> Lost in my self-flagellation, I nearly miss Benji’s answer.
“I will, Mads. I promise. I’ll walk away. She won’t get hurt.” His earnest assurance carries around the room, murmurs of approval following his declaration. The entire Club agrees that Benji is no good for me.
If they knew the real me, the depths I’ve fallen to since Connor left, they’d reconsider.
Benji’s words circle my head, over and over, making me gasp in pain as the promise he made sinks in. If this is for my own good—so I don’t get hurt—can someone explain why my heart feels as if it’s about to shatter into a million pieces?
CHAPTER FIVE
BENJI
Present Day
I don’t need to search for Lacey in the crowded bar after I make my promise to Maddi. I hear her soft gasp over the noise of the room, the small sound informing me of her dismay at my choice. I pretend I don’t hear it, letting any further protest from her get swallowed by the conversation that resumes in the room. I’m sure they’re all disappointed that they didn’t get to watch Maddi and I go at it—that they don’t get some more free entertainment out of the latest O’Brien drama.
It’s too bad, really. I’ll miss her curvy body but my future is at stake. There’s no fucking way I’m going to rehab and giving Dad the opportunity to let my secret out of the bag. Lacey is an acceptable casualty in this war I’ve been thrust into.
I’m not stupid. I know she’s falling for me. I like it; I enjoy having power over her. The rehab on my knee isn’t going as well as expected. Dad’s constantly on my ass about remembering where I buried Brendan’s body and now wants me to prospect. Joel and Maddi are still fighting to overcome the damage—physical and mental—caused by my fuck-ups.
My guilt, my frustration, my failures.
None of which leaves me feeling in control of my life or like the superstar I once was. All my life, I’ve been the special one. The guy everyone wants to be—or fuck, if you have a functioning pussy. Having that yanked out from underneath me has sucked big time. Lacey’s the only person who still looks at me like I’m worth worshipping. I need her to love me, to idolize me, so I can regain some of my power.
Seeking Redemption Page 3