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Reign (The Henchmen MC Book 1)

Page 5

by Jessica Gadziala


  “The fuck?” Reign asked.

  “It's nothing. I was on a run. Ran into him. He made it clear who he was. That was it.”

  “That fucking better be it.”

  Cash rolled his eyes at me in a very brotherly way. Like we were both agreeing that Reign was being unreasonable. “I didn't have a shoe size,” Cash said.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “A shoe size, babe. For your feet.”

  “Oh, um... I'm a six,” I supplied.

  “Right. Next time I drop by, I'll bring shoes. Did I forget anything else?”

  I felt myself smile a little. “No. You were very thorough.”

  “I know women pretty well.”

  “I can tell.”

  Reign rolled up his foil, drawing my attention. “Thanks for letting me stay,” I said stupidly, feeling like I owed him more gratitude than I could even begin to share.

  “It's no big deal,” he said, getting up. “You got her? I'm going out for an hour.”

  “Sure,” Cash said, waving a hand.

  And with that, Reign was gone.

  “Don't let him fool you,” Cash said as the door closed.

  “Fool me about what?”

  “It's a big deal. Not that he's helping you. But that you're staying here. No woman has ever stayed here before.”

  “Oh,” I said, picking at my hashbrown. “I mean... it's just for a couple days. I'm sure it's nothing. He's just trying to help...”

  “That's just the thing, though,” Cash said, sitting back in his chair. “Reign doesn't just do nice shit all the time. Does he seem like that kind of guy?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “'Cause he's not. He's got a lot of other shit on his plate. If he helped every damsel in distress, he'd never get a break. He's a good guy, don't get me wrong. Big heart underneath all that barbed wire. But it's usually for his brothers, the club. That's it. So, coming from his brother, this is a pretty big deal.”

  “Is that... a bad thing?” I asked, eating the last of my food, my belly aching it was so full. The sensation was still so new that I reveled in it.

  “No, doll,” he said, getting up, shaking his head. “I think you'll be good for him. I'm gonna smoke,” he said, moving toward the back door. “I'll stay where you can see me, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding.

  I took the plates, carrying them to the sink where all the stuff from cooking and eating the night before were still piled. And I set to work.

  If he was letting me stay and it was a big deal for him, the least I could do was carry my weight.

  When Cash said he was going to smoke, he meant about half a pack. When I finished the dishes, leaving them in a dry pile on the counter, he was still out there, staring out at the fence, a cloud of smoke around him. I walked off toward the bedroom, making the bed. Then went to the bathroom, organizing all the supplies so they weren't strewn all over.

  By the time I went back out into the main room, I heard Reign's bike rumbling up. Cash heard it too, turning to look through the door and giving me a smile.

  The front door opened and in walked Reign, his hair all windblown, his eyes squinting to adjust to the dimmer inside light.

  “Tell me Cash cleaned,” he said in an odd tone. One I didn't know him well enough to decipher.

  “I cleaned,” I supplied, shrugging.

  “Babe, you don't work for me,” he said, piercing me with his hazel eyes.

  My brows drew together. “It would be okay if Cash cleaned?”

  “He works for me.”

  Oh.

  Well that explained it.

  “I was just... trying to do something nice. You're doing a lot for me. I just thought...”

  “Babe,” he said, cutting me off, his tone lighter than usual. “You don't owe me anything. You want to clean, you're bored... have at it. Don't do it for me 'cause you think you need to pay me back. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  “You guys all set?” Cash asked, coming in, smoke clinging to his skin. “I got your text,” he said, nodding at Reign. “I'll take care of it.” He paused. “The boys are gonna get suspicious if they don't see you in church tomorrow though, bro.”

  Reign's eyes cut to me for a second. “I know. I'll figure it out,” he said and Cash just shrugged.

  Cash walked past me, winking. “See you soon, Cherry. I'll bring shoes.”

  “Thank you,” I said, meaning it.

  He hit his brother on the shoulder, then was gone. The rumble of a bike pulled away and Reign and I were alone.

  “Car is gone,” he told me, walking into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee despite having downed the huge coffee Cash had brought him earlier. “Tree still there, but the car is gone.”

  “Is that weird?”

  “Township would have dealt with the tree too.”

  “But it's got to be a mess out there, maybe they're just swamped.”

  “No, babe. V got his car towed.”

  “You can't know that.”

  “I know it,” he corrected. “V wouldn't want people finding his car smashed up on the road.”

  “How far from the crash site are we?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. I had been so worked up the night before, I had no idea how long we drove. If it wasn't far from the site, then what were the chances that V wouldn't...

  “I see those gears turning,” Reign broke into my inner freak out. “Relax. We're about half an hour from the spot. There are plenty of houses between us and there. No one is coming here,” he said, coming up closer. “I promise you're safe here. Okay?”

  I looked up into his eyes, and I mean up, he was so much taller than me. And I saw nothing but certainty there. If he was half as capable as he thought he was, then he was definitely someone I could trust. “Okay,” I said, my voice oddly quiet. My air felt stuck in my chest with him so close, with his eyes on mine, watching me, and I swear he could see right inside.

  “Okay,” he repeated and his hand slowly raised, paused for a second in the air, then moved to tuck my hair behind my ear.

  I think I shivered.

  Okay. I definitely shivered.

  And he definitely noticed.

  “Good shiver or a 'get your fucking hands off of me you dirtbag' shiver?”

  Surprised, I choked on a laugh.

  “I'll take that as a good one,” he said, giving me a small smile that I swear melted my new pretty cherry panties. His hand went away and he look a step back, running it through his own hair. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself.

  “What's the matter?” I asked, watching him.

  “Nothin',” he said, going over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. “I'm going to the basement. Stay in the house.”

  With that, he disappeared.

  Yeah. Something was the matter. He just wasn't going to tell me.

  And I had no right to feel indignant about that.

  He was keeping something from me.

  But I was keeping a lot from him too.

  Eight

  Reign

  She was keeping something from me.

  It had been something that had been rolling around in my head since I got up in the morning. Her story worked in an abstract kind of way. But it wasn't right. It didn't fit perfectly. V might have been a criminal, but kidnapping and extortion seemed beneath him. He had bigger business than that. It just didn't work.

  So she was lying. Or at the very least lying by omission.

  Though why she would do that was completely beyond me.

  Unless she didn't trust me.

  Which didn't sit right.

  I didn't like that.

  She trusted Cash. Right off. The second he greeted her, she trusted him. Rightfully so. He was trustworthy. But so was I. And I still hadn't won her over. She was protecting her full truth from me. Which was only putting her at risk. She needed to trust me fully.

  Then I went and fucking tucked her hair behind her ear.

  What
the fuck was that about?

  I wasn't a hair-behind-ear-tucker.

  Then she shivered.

  Shivered.

  Fuck.

  I threw myself down the stairs, going over to the bag- beat up, duct tape holding the guts inside it in more than a few places. I needed to hit something. To get some of the sexual frustration out.

  I'd been fucking half hard since I laid eyes on her.

  Which wasn't going to get me anywhere in getting her to trust me. I needed to keep my hands off of her. And it wasn't going to be easy.

  The ride hadn't helped. Usually it helped ease some of the tension. I spent a lot of time on my bike trying to clear my head. Trying to sort through club shit. Sometimes the only thing that helped was taking off on the road, being alone. Nothing but the wind and the sound of my bike.

  But it hadn't helped me make sense of Summer.

  It certainly didn't help to come back and see her shiver when I touched her. Not flinch away. Not freak the hell out. No... she reacted. Not like one of V's girls would have reacted. Just like any woman would react.

  I took to the bag, beating it until my fists felt raw. The kind of raw, burning sensation you got right before the skin broke open. I sat down on the bench, staring at the walls.

  I didn't feel any better.

  My phone blinked and I reached for it.

  Cash: You're fucked.

  I'm not fucked.

  Cash: Saw how you looked at her.

  She's hot.

  Cash: More than that and you know it.

  Nothin' gonna happen. What's up at the club?

  Cash: Bitching about clean up. Hungover. Had a BlackOut party last night.

  No word on V?

  Cash: Saw one of his guys in the ghetto looking around.

  Keep me posted.

  He was looking already. That was good. The sooner he ran through the area, the better. No one had seen her. He would move on.

  Not that he would stop looking for her. She was important. I didn't know why she was important. And maybe she didn't even know why she was important, but I was going to make sure of that.

  She wasn't going to keep shit from me anymore.

  Nine

  Summer

  I heard the pounding and the sound of chains smacking together. I'd seen enough movies to place the sound. A punching bag. He had a punching bag. Listening, a weird sense of morbid humor came over me and I had to force myself to not laugh. Because it was twisted to even think it:

  He had a punching bag in a basement. I used to be a punching bag in a basement.

  What was wrong with me?

  Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped and I heard his booted feet stomping on the steps, then the door to the basement slammed shut.

  Angry.

  Even his footsteps in the hallway sounded angry.

  I skirted around the bed, my heart flying into my throat, trying to put space between us. Because I knew he was coming. He was coming and he was pissed.

  He stepped into the doorway, his hair wet with sweat, his hands clenched into fists, his shoulders tight. His eyes fell on me. And just like that... the anger seemed to deflate. His shoulders went slack, his hands unclenched, his eyes looked almost sad.

  “Christ,” he said on an exhale. His head ducked, his hand running across his brow before his eyes came up to me again. “I'm not gonna hurt you, babe,” he said, his voice soft. “Never, okay?” he said, stepping into the room. I felt myself retreat and watched him wince. “Babe, eyes,” he commanded and I lifted mine to his. “Long as I'm around no one will ever hurt you, okay?”

  He meant that.

  He didn't even know me, but he was going to make sure that never happened again. And I believed him.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding. “I'm gonna take a shower then you and me, we're having some words. You're gonna talk, understand?”

  Shit.

  He knew I was lying to him.

  He knew and he wasn't going to let me get away with it.

  “Yes,” I answered, nodding, though inside I knew that couldn't happen.

  I couldn't let that happen. It would put me at risk. And my father at risk.

  “Give me ten,” he said, then was off. Not ten seconds later, I heard the shower turn on.

  I turned, grabbing the sweatshirt off the bed and throwing it on. I had no shoes. But there was nothing I could do about that. I took off my socks, stuffing them inside the pocket of my sweatshirt, then crept down the hall, wincing anytime a floorboard squeaked. I made it to the front door, unlocking it, then slipping out, closing it as quietly as I could manage.

  Then I ran.

  The field seemed like it was endless. The ride in hadn't seemed so bad. But then again, I wasn't doing it on foot. It was at least an acre. But I could see the gate. My heart was pounding in my chest, half from running and half from... well... the very strong feeling that I was doing the wrong thing. That it wasn't a good plan.

  That I would only ever be safe with Reign.

  But that was so ridiculous that I dropped to the ground beside the gate, looking for the button.

  It wasn't there.

  But it had to be there.

  There was always a button. I had been in my fair share of gated homes in my past. There had to be a button to press to get out.

  “The fuck you doing?”

  Shit.

  I flew back, falling onto my ass hard enough for me to yelp slightly. My eyes found Reign's well worn boots near my feet. I followed the line up, finding dark wash jeans slung low on his hips and... nothing else. Shirtless again. My eyes crept upward to his face, his mouth parted slightly, his brows drawn together.

  “Summer...” he said and the paralysis in my body flew away and I scrambled up on to my feet, brushing past him. “Babe,” he said, his hand grabbing my arm from behind, “the fuck?”

  Then he was turning me to face him, pushing my back against the hard metal gate. The hand that wasn't holding my arm lifted, knuckles sliding across my jaw and slowly tilting my face up to his.

  “Why you running?” he asked, his voice soft. Well, as soft as someone who gargled glass could get.

  I felt my lips part to answer, but the words didn't come as I looked into his hazel eyes. Watching, something crossed them. Something heated. Something that made his eyelids lower slightly.

  “Fuck it,” he said under his breath.

  And then his lips were on mine, sending a jolt through my body. There was no hesitation, no softness. His lips seared into mine, branding me in a way that was almost painfully hot, but so consuming that I didn't even think about the fact that I was going to walk around the rest of my days marked by Reign. Even if it had crossed my mind, I don't think it would have mattered. Because I just... melted into him. My arms went up around his neck, pressing my body into his, my hands sinking into his wet hair. His tongue slipped across the crease in my lips. They parted and his tongue slipped inside.

  I sighed against his mouth and the hand that was holding my arm slid down, curling around my back and holding me tight to his body.

  And it felt right.

  Which was stupid.

  But it felt right in his arms. It felt safe. It felt like I belonged there.

  Whoa.

  What the hell?

  That was absurd.

  As if having a similar internal dilemma, Reign's head shifted and lifted, his breath warm on my cheek.

  Free of the contact, I sucked in a shaky breath, trying to pull myself together. Because that was how I felt- pulled apart. Unraveled.

  He unraveled me.

  Okay. I needed to get a grip.

  It was a kiss.

  Just a kiss.

  “Eyes,” he commanded.

  My gaze lifted and found his. Fierce. Mean enough to stare my demons down.

  “Don't ever run away from me,” he said, half-warning, half-pleading.

  And I was so shocked to see someone like him, someone
so strong and terrifying, begging for something from me that I didn't hesitate to agree. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeated, dropping my jaw, then releasing my hips. But his hand moved down and grabbed my hand and started pulling, practically dragging, me back across the field to the house.

  He kicked off his boots inside the door, still holding my hand, then walked barefoot toward the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee, black. Then he turned to me, letting my hand go, grabbing my hips, and hauling me up onto the counter. “Think you can manage to keep your ass planted there for a minute?” he asked, his words hard but there was a trace of humor in his voice.

  He turned back to the coffee, poured another cup, then went about adding cream and sugar to it before he handed it to me.

  “You don't like it black, say something,” he instructed as I took a sip and sighed. “Now why the fuck you running?”

  I looked down at my coffee cup, lowering it onto my thigh. “You wanted to talk.”

  “And you didn't wanna explain the truth of what happened to you?”

  “Something like that,” I conceded.

  “Babe, I'm gonna protect you... need to know the facts.”

  “I don't even know where to start.”

  “At the beginning.”

  **

  It was a bad day. I was on my second week at the new job my father had assigned me to and I felt like all I did was mess up then scramble to fix it before everyone else realized how incompetent I was. Before the rumors about nepotism started, as they always did. Until I couldn't take them anymore and asked my father to transfer me. It was a chicken move and I knew it, but I didn't like people knowing I had positions of power that I technically hadn't earned in the least.

  So I wasn't in the best of moods. I had stormed into my apartment and went straight to the red. Wine, that is. And I drank a bottle. By myself. On an empty stomach. I was a stumbling mess going to my bedroom, reaching into my closet for pajamas. I settled on the pink silk shorts and the white tank top and struggled into them, falling once in the process and banging my shin hard enough to see stars and get an almost immediate bruise.

 

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