by J Bree
I can make it work.
I just need to figure out how the hell to get away from him now.
I give him a half-smile. I can’t even fake anything bigger than that. I’d noticed a gas station on the corner of the block, I’ll fucking fake nice and make a run for it down there. I’m in great shape thanks to all of the acrobatics I’m getting in with my dancing so unless he’s a regular runner, I should be able to make it.
“Good choice. We could make this a regular thing, I’ve enjoyed our time together so far.”
He steps out of the restaurant ahead of me, his eyes on me the entire time, and I have to control my breathing. He’s still too close to me. He could touch me, grab me, drag me by my fucking hair. I have to keep my shit together for a little longer.
Then he stops dead.
I glance up and find Tomi standing next to Finley's car, his face thunderous and fucking pissed. I'm scared for a second, he's not exactly the nicest of the bikers I've been around and the 1% badge is there on his cut like a badge of pride, but then Finley puts his arm around me and my skin begins to crawl.
I'd do anything to get him to stop.
Even throw myself at Tomi and pray he’s feeling merciful.
"Hey man, I think you're scaring the girl. Maybe you should back up a bit."
I stay rooted to the spot, my knees locked up with terror at his touch, and Tomi looks me over.
"Angel, get your ass over here now."
The spell is broken just like that.
I take a single step, trying to shrug Finley's arm off, and his hand clamps down on my shoulder. My mind starts to white out with terror, his fingers tightening until I know there’ll be bruises, and a weird squeak pops out of me.
Tomi moves fast for such a big guy.
One second I'm standing there freaking shaking and the next I'm stumbling towards the car, Tomi shoving me away from Finley as he smashes his face open with his fist.
I keep walking until I find Tomi's motorcycle, careful not to touch it because I know bikers can be weird about that but I stand there in my yoga pants and old band tee until he's done beating the shit outta the creep.
When he walks back over to me, his knuckles a freaking mess and blood splattered all over his shirt, his face is still fierce. I stare at the blood to try to distract myself from that anger.
I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong.
For the looks he’s giving me, it’s bad.
"Was he a John? I thought you'd dress a little better for that shit?"
That gets my attention. My mouth runs before I really think about what I’m saying. “Are you serious right now? Are you fucking kidding me?"
He glares at me, his brows drawing down even more. "I hope he wasn't your boyfriend because he's not gonna be happy when you get your ass home."
I blow out a frustrated breath and hug myself, the heat of the night doing nothing to ease the chill in my blood. "I'm not doing extra. He was an asshole who wouldn't take no for an answer. What was I supposed to do? He was leaning on my car at The Boulevard and I could either say yes or get beaten to death."
He turns to look back at the puddle of blood Finley left behind but he's crawled off somewhere else while we were distracted. "You coulda called."
I shrug. "Diamond would've hung up on me. Hell, I think any of the girls would. I’m not exactly popular.“
Tomi stalks past me and climbs onto his bike, grabbing a helmet out of the pack and holding it out to me. "Get your ass on."
Oh God.
I've never been on a motorcycle before but I don’t need experience to know there's no way to stay on it without wrapping myself around him. My nerves are already shot to hell and he's going to know exactly how fucking terrified I am if I do.
"Get on, for fuck's sake, I have work to do that isn't chasing around after dumbass strippers all fucking night."
My feet move at the command in his voice and the self-loathing starts roiling in my gut. I’ve gotten better at shoving that shit aside to function but there’s something about his voice that breaks the tethers.
Can't fucking do anything right.
Always fucking trouble.
Be better for everyone if you were fucking dead, Angel.
Why can’t you just fucking disappear?
It's all in my own voice too. It's not like anyone else is saying it to me because even Paul didn't say that shit to me. No, he told me how pretty I was. He told me all about how much of a special girl I really was, all while he was breaking me open and playing around with my insides until I was a fucking shell.
He might have thought I was special, but I know for sure that I'm worthless.
"Jesus fucking Christ, put your foot on mine and swing your leg. Right, hold onto me. No, hold onto me properly. Fuck, you've really never done this before, have you?”
It's like an echo of the shit in my head and maybe that's part of my trauma because that roiling feeling settles down a little. He hates me like I hate me and maybe that's comforting.
I sit there and hold him as tight as he asks me to, my entire body crushed against his. He drives like he wants us both to die, the motorcycle eating up the road like a fucking beast, and I don’t have time to think about how freaking scared I am to be this close to him.
I’m too busy flirting with death and trying not to answer its call.
I could let go of him right now and just die.
I could.
Fuck, a heady feeling takes over and… is this what being high feels like? My head goes all loopy and light, like I could fly off into another plane if I could find the tether to cut.
We get back to The Boulevard way too quickly.
I get off of the back of the bike with his help and stumble over to my truck. I fumble for the keys in my pocket and he calls out to me from where he’s still straddling his bike, looking dangerous and sinful in the early morning light.
"Listen to me, Angel. You're a dancer here which means until the club chooses otherwise you're our property. If some asshole tries to damage club property, I wanna know about it. That ass of yours makes us a lotta money, no one touches it without answering to the club."
Okay.
There's my trauma again.
I shouldn't want to be club property but, fuck, that's the closest to having someone give a shit about me that I've come since my dad died.
I nod and he waits while I unlock my car and check my bag is still in there. It is and the money is untouched, thank God, and before I can slide in he says, "He comes to this town again and he'll be dead and buried here. Simple as that."
The easy way he talks about death should be scary or exciting or... something. Instead, it just sounds normal. Like, of course he'd kill him for touching club property.
I never want to quit this job for that protection alone.
I watch as he drives away, he turns left and heads out to the suburbs which is kind of weird.
I go right.
I head to the inner city with the big parking lot I can park in and catch about an hour's sleep in. I have classes tomorrow and I have to find somewhere to catch a shower too, thanks to my night of terror sweating. I take a deep breath and decide to grab a hotel in the next town over for the night. Sleep all day, get my brain working again. It's not ideal but it'll have to do.
Chapter Ten
Tomi
I call Rue from the road.
“You busy?”
He huffs down the line at me. “When am I not fucking busy? Diesel was too hungover to do his work today, told King he had family shit going on instead of admitting Monroe has him drinking himself to death, but Dave fucking backed him up when I was fixing to go break down his door. He’s a pussy-whipped little bitch who needs to start pulling his fucking weight before I fucking bury him. Where the hell are you, anyway?”
I scoff at him but the sound gets eaten up by the roar of my hog. “I might need a clean up. Stick around until I call you with an all clear.”
It’s someth
ing he’s said to me a hundred times by now, every last one of them over some dipshit looking sideways at Poe, but it’s the first time I’ve ever had to call him in like that. To warn him that I’m about to shed blood and he’ll need to come help clean it up.
“Fuck me, is she okay? Some asshole touch her again? If it was Mav, he’s here at the clubhouse. I’ll call his ass down here and get him warmed up for you.”
There’s a reason I’d take a bullet for him. I know he’d take one for me too, without a fucking question, and if some asshole is touching my woman he’s going to help gut the fucker with a goddamn smile on his face.
“It wasn’t Mav. Some asshole showed up at The Boulevard and forced her into his car. She didn’t call because Diamond is a pissy bitch to her on shift. I’m getting the security footage and then I’m hunting the fucker down.”
I don’t mention that I’d gotten a call from Speck saying he’d seen her get into the car and I’d lost my fucking mind. I’d gotten on my hog and torn off after them, ready to spill fucking blood. I’m already saying way too much over the phone, Rue could be standing in the garage with fucking anyone around, but I don’t care about that shit. Not at all.
I want that guy choking on his own blood.
Fuck, If I hadn’t been distracted by Angel’s freak out I would’ve killed him right there, taken his body out to the fucking swamp and left him for Cecee.
Something about seeing the woman who’s ‘struck you shaking like a fucking leaf messes with your head and your goddamn priorities.
Rue grunts. “Call me, I need to get rid of some of this fucking rage and ain’t nothing better than beating the shit outta some asshole tryna touch something that ain’t theirs to touch.”
I get back to the clubhouse and Diamond’s car is in the parking lot.
I don’t want to fucking see her but maybe I should fucking tear into her. Tell her the petty fucking jealousies that seem to have come over her don’t mean shit to me and my business and I’ll fucking gut her if she doesn’t stick to her goddamn job.
Fuck.
Maybe I should send Rue in for that conversation because I’m not feeling all that fucking diplomatic. I’m too fucking close to this and I’ll end up fucking killing the cunt.
I sit on my hog for a while to calm myself the hell down.
Doesn’t work.
The doors open and Speck stumbles down the stairs at me, two bottles of beer in his hands.
“Rue told me to give you these, might cool you down some.”
I swing my leg over but lean against the seat still. “It’ll take more than this.”
Speck nods and blows out a breath. “Yeah… I’ve got more shit that might send you off the rails too.”
Christ.
“Axe has a bachelor’s party this weekend at the bar. They’ve booked out the back room, some old friend of his that goes way back.”
I know exactly who he’s talking about.
Jameson served in the Middle East with Axe, survived war together, and when they both came home with honors Jameson took over his family business down at the ports while Axe patched in with us.
Jameson is a big help with the guns we import.
Not that Speck would know about it, he’s not patched in and very few people actually know about Jameson’s involvement. We keep that shit under wraps.
“Why am I gonna care about some bachelor party? I’m happy Jameson is marrying Elizabeth, she’s stuck by him through all his PTSD shit. Good woman.”
Speck blows out a breath and scratches at the back of his neck. “They want some of the girls to go serve them. They have the back room and Axe wants to surprise him with a show.”
Fuck.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“I told him Mel or Farrah would do it but all the guys are fucking obsessed with Angel. Diamond’s in there trying to convince Axe that Angel ain’t worth the effort.”
Maybe I won’t kill the bitch.
The jealousy might come in handy this once. I don’t fucking need this headache today, not with some asshole out there still bleeding who tried to hurt her. I don’t fucking want her, but I don’t want her dead either. Not until… I know. Fuck. What am I thinking, I do know! Cuntstruck! She’s a fucking stripper.
I grab the second bottle of beer from Speck and take the side entrance, bypassing the bar altogether and getting straight into my room. I get my computer turned on as I walk through to wash the blood that’s dried on my hands.
Fuck, I shoulda killed him.
I should have fucking killed him for putting his hands on her. If I ever find out she’s seeing someone I’ll kill him too. I’ve never been the jealous type before, I’ve watched my cousin be fucking consumed by it and never wanted that shit for myself, but the thought of any motherfucker putting his hands on her again… Jesus, I need a fucking whiskey and a brawl to calm my shit down.
I don’t get the chance to look up the security footage.
“Church!” King bellows down the hall, and even through my closed door I hear it loud and clear.
I leave my shit behind, stalking straight to the chapel and taking my seat while the others all file in at a slower pace. Hellion joins me first, slinging himself down into his chair with a groan.
“We’ve got runs to get into,” he murmurs, and I shrug. It’s about time to get back into the real Unseen business. We’ve been leaving it to the lower members and other charters for too long thanks to King’s homecoming and now we have some leads on the fucking rats.
I glance back to see if Rue’s ass has made it in yet. I need him to come hunting with me after this shit.
Hellion sighs at me. “Is your head in this or not?"
I scoff and look up to meet his eyes. He's the only one not laughing and joking around, the caretaker uncle as always. "My head's just fine. I've just got some shit going on."
He shrugs. "I heard about the new stripper you're stalking. 'Struck or just enjoying a challenge?"
I let out a breath. It's the first time someone has noticed. Well, someone who isn't Rue and Speck. Those two don't fucking count, I spend every waking fucking minute with one of them. The joys of growing up in an open house for the lost boys of the Unseen. Between my cousins and the twins there’s always someone hanging around. It's always come in handy with keeping an eye on Trink but fuck if it doesn't make my skin crawl a little from all the eyes on me right now.
"It's not something I want talked about a whole lot. I'm not looking to settle down with trouble, no matter how hot the package is." Cole hands me a drink and I shoo him away. This isn't a conversation I want anyone overhearing.
Hell nods and drains his beer. "You need to let that bitch go. The curse is nothing but fucking trouble. Liza and Georgie proved that shit."
Liza would be Rue's mom. An addict and a shitty fucking human, she left when he was six and never once came back for him.
Georgie tried to take Speck with her when she left so I guess that was a half-step up but leaving the Unseen isn't on the table for a Callaghan and when Hell made that clear, she still left her son behind to chase some dream in Cali.
The thought of raising a kid here by myself, having them sleeping in the clubhouse or back at my parents’ place when I'm locked up over club shit, it makes things clearer.
I'm not fucking touching her.
I finish off my beer in a single go. "Bitches are good at sucking dick and that's about it. I've got no need for a full-time piece. Fuck it, I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I don't need it getting back to Keely and her getting her hopes up."
Hell chuckles and nods. "Yeah, she'd be after some grandbabies in no time. She always was happiest with a bunch of toddlers running around.”
No fucking thank you.
King and Hawk both walk in together and I shut my mouth up tight.
No way I’m letting word get out.
I’m fucked enough as it is.
After the meeting I pass the hell out.
I wait until I�
��ve had eight solid hours of sleep before I get back on my computer and find the security footage. The guy has been in The Boulevard before which makes it easy to find and run his ID.
Finley Moody.
Some rich dick, not from Coldstone, and nothing comes up on the ID check. He works for Southern Miss, drives a Range Rover, and belongs to a country club.
What a fucking asshole.
He’ll be a dead asshole soon. I send his details to Rue and, after thinking about it for a half-second, I send them to Speck too. I need them both on this. If Speck is keeping an eye on Angel, which he will be until further notice, then he needs to know all about the assholes that might be a fucking problem.
He messages back straight away.
Can’t take care of him. Angel’s student advisor, too fucking messy. I’ll keep an eye out instead.
Student advisor.
She’s at college?
What a way to find out that there’s so much I don’t know about her. Fuck, other than the fact she’s hot as hell and can work a pole better than any other girl I’ve ever seen I know fucking nothing about her really.
I don’t like it.
What’s she doing at Southern Miss?
I hate asking him but I need to fucking know.
No idea but she’s good with numbers. Fucking good, Poe passed a geometry test for the first time thanks to her notes.
I don’t have enough time to think that through fully. Jameson’s bachelor party is being held at Mugshots, the bar the MC owns, and I said I’d drop by and have a drink with them. I don’t know Jameson like Axe does but I’ve met him plenty of times, most of them involving a helluva lot of whiskey, and I’ve buried some bodies for him.
Enough that we have a mutual respect for each other.
The motherfucker doesn’t miss with a long distance rifle and a scope.
I make it to Mugshots early so I can check it out before the party gets here. I want to get in and out because I’m a dumbass about Angel, even though I’m trying so fucking hard not to be. I want to go get my eyes on her and make sure Moody didn’t go after her again last night.