Wrench (The Club Girl Diaries Book 6)
Page 14
And now I was thinking more clearly, I just didn’t know if I could be responsible for that. And how unfair it was for me to demand he kept that information from his brothers, his family.
I really did love the club. There may have been times where I’d blamed them, blamed Optimus for the fact that I couldn’t come home. I’d told him before, the danger that surrounds the club was too much for me to handle, too much for me to have Harlyn involved in.
They were just my scapegoat. I’d placed my fears and apprehension on them in order to make it seem like I was doing the right thing. It wasn’t fair, not on the club, Optimus, his brothers or the women who loved those men.
There would come a time when I’d have to admit the truth and take on the guilt and shame of my actions, I just hoped that they would be able to forgive me and understand that I was doing it for them and for my daughter.
I took a deep breath as I climbed from my car and stared at the restaurant in front of me that held so many strange memories. They weren’t necessarily bad because during the times I’d been there, I’d been somewhat happy, or at least content with my life and the way I was living it.
Peter had charm, I had to admit that much. Early on in our relationship he’d wined me, dined me, and surprisingly treated me more like a person than my parents had during my adolescence. I knew at the time that it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, to be with a man who was like them in more ways than one, but I felt like he showed me a different side to his personality, one that was relaxed, more carefree.
The work he did was all about helping families and finding cures to diseases and producing a medication that would help people through their pain, help them to live a normal life. He wanted to make people’s lives longer, help them to experience more. I admired that because it seemed like it came from a genuine place in his heart. But it wasn’t long until I realized his true intentions before I saw exactly who he really was.
I stepped inside the building and immediately there was a waiter offering to take my coat. I smiled graciously. “I’m here to meet Peter Davenport.”
His eyes lit up and he hurried to hang my jacket before sweeping his arm out in front of him. “Please, come this way, ma’am.”
Soft harmonic music played in the background, and patrons chatted quietly among themselves and devoured their food. The smell should have had my mouth drooling, given that I hadn’t eaten all day out of nerves, but all it did was twist my stomach further into knots.
The waiter stopped at the back of the restaurant and stepped to the side, revealing Peter at a large round table, sipping a glass of wine. He looked up and saw me, placing the glass down on the table and standing to his feet.
A gentleman.
Sure.
“A drink for the lady?” the waiter offered, pulling out a small notepad.
I nodded. “Vodka.”
He raised his brow. “Um… mixed with?”
“Straight,” I said sharply, looking out of the corner of my eye and taking pleasure in the way Peter’s nose crinkled at my order.
The waiter rushed off, and I placed my handbag on the table before taking a seat beside him, silently thankful that the table was large enough for there to be quite a space between us.
He slowly sunk back into his chair and once again picked up his glass. “You look lovely,” he complimented. “Couldn’t have ordered something a little less brash?”
“I’m going to need it to put up with my parents…” and you, I added silently.
He swirled the wine in his glass, much like a connoisseur would do when tasting different varieties. “You’re being a little dramatic, Annabelle.”
I didn’t express my distaste for the use of my given name.
Optimus had given me the name Sugar on the first night we’d met, and it had stuck like glue with all his brothers and friends of the club instantly picking up on the nickname. I was almost confident most of them didn’t even know what my real name was.
Annabelle.
So formal, so distinct, and proper with the way it was pronounced.
I hadn’t disliked it back then, but after over five years of calling myself Sugar, it seemed almost like when Peter used it, that he was speaking to someone else.
I guess in a way he was.
He didn’t know the person that I was now, he didn’t know how I’d grown.
He didn’t know me. And for now, that’s how I wanted it to stay.
Just being in his presence disgusted me, made me want to hurl all over the pristine white tablecloth in front of me. I knew I couldn’t hide the way I cringed when he was close, my body’s automatic reaction to him was to cower, that’s how it had been for a long time. And even though I wanted to be strong, for now, it was best that he felt like he was in control, and that I was weak.
I ignored his comment and placed my heavy bag on the table, snatching out the DNA records to show him. “Here… I’m pretty sure I don’t need to explain these to you, do I?”
He took them from my hand, casually letting his eyes glance over them, showing no emotions. “I see,” he finally said after a few minutes. “May I keep these?”
I frowned. “I guess so. Just know I have copies, as do the place where the DNA was tested and also our private doctor. Oh… and a lawyer.” I wasn’t about to let him think he could do something with them untoward without me having proof in several different places.
He chuckled. “Noted.”
The waiter appeared then and placed my drink down in front of me, before taking a step back he said, “Mr. and Mrs. Sulivan rang to let you know that something has come up, and they won’t be attending dinner tonight.”
I caught the small smirk on Peter’s lips as he took another sip of his wine.
Fucking asshole.
When we were alone again, I hissed at him under my breath. “You knew they weren’t coming, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “There something wrong with me having dinner alone with my wife? They were quite excited about the prospect when I mentioned it earlier today, and offered to let us have our time together.”
I pulled my handbag onto my lap. “Well, you can enjoy some time alone.” As I went to stand he tsked his tongue at me disappointingly.
“Bryce Lawson… I bet he has a criminal record, doesn’t he?”
I froze as I heard him use Optimus’ real name. A name I’d just handed to him on the piece of paper he had tucked in his pocket. My blood began boiling with anger. “This isn’t about Harlyn at all, is it? You already knew she wasn’t yours.”
His eyes gleamed with delight like we were playing a hand of cards and he knew his was going to beat mine. “She looks reasonably healthy. I wonder whose genes she got more of… his or yours,” he commented offhandedly as he rearranged the knife and fork on the table. “An addict mother, a criminal father. Easy for a kid like that to get lost in the system.”
Instantly my bristles went up, and my throat became restricted.
He was interested in Harlyn.
There was something he wanted, and he was going to try and use her to get to me. He was going to try and rip her away, hold her over my head and play me like a puppet.
“You come near my daughter… and I’ll kill you,” I whispered between clenched teeth.
His eyes widened for a brief second before he found his composure again, his eyes darkening.
I thought I’d covered all my bases in that regard. There was no doubt at all that Harlyn belonged to Optimus. The short time I’d been with Op, Peter and I hadn’t been sexual, so there was no chance. But now Peter had thrown me for a loop. I could see the cogs moving in his brain, the dark delight he was taking in knowing that he had a kind of power over me that no one else did. He had the ability to change my life, to lock me up and throw away the key. I wasn’t about to let him use Harlyn as a pawn in his deadly games, though. There was no way in hell, and right now, there was only one option I could think of that would keep her safe from both him and from me.
His eyes sparkled as he moved to stand to his feet. “Now, Anna. Don’t go and do anything stupid. The last thing I want is for you or that little girl to get hurt. It would be such a shame wouldn’t it, for Harlyn to watch her mother be put away, or worse…” he paused, making sure his eyes met mine, “…be killed.”
“What the hell do you want from me?” I demanded, my hand wrapped tightly around the strap of my handbag.
His eyes flashed, a demonic smirk pulling at his lips. “You hurt me, I hurt you… and everyone you care about.”
I got it now.
I’d made a fool out of him—a runaway wife who disappeared for six years and came back with a child, a child that wasn’t his. He looked stupid, and in his world, people didn’t get away with making him look stupid.
“You leave my family alone,” I growled, my hand itching to reach over and slap the smug smirk off his dirty face. Instead, I forced myself to turn and head for the door, my body shaking and my legs wobbling unsteadily.
I wouldn’t allow him to see me crumble, though. I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a needle than let him take pleasure in unnerving me.
The fresh night air hit me, forcing me to take a much-needed breath, the cooling air alighting my lungs and allowing me to breathe deeply. My heels clicked on the concrete as I rushed to my car, fumbling with my bag in search of my keys and my cell phone. I was desperate to get inside the vehicle and make a call that would both devastate and relax me at the same time.
Last night’s dinner with Peter had shaken me to my core.
I knew I needed to do something, to fight back, so I made a call that I never thought I’d ever have to do, something that might hurt the people I care about but that would, in the end, protect them.
I’d made a decision—I needed to pull the attention away from the club, get all the information I could before going to them and pleading my case.
First, I needed to have all my bases covered, nothing could go wrong.
It had been a long day. I’d worked at the shop, I’d gone to appointments, and my brain was fried. Now here I was, I’d been standing inside my bedroom for at least twenty minutes, staring around aimlessly, wondering what the hell I’d come in here for in the first place.
“Pull yourself together, woman,” I growled under my breath as I abandoned my mission and moved down the hallway and into the living room.
“I dunno…” The voice startled me, and I whipped my head toward the doorway, my hair flying around me as I tried to focus on the man who I’d been pining over for months, who was suddenly standing in my house. “I kinda like it when you fall apart, but only when it’s in my hands.”
I hauled in a heavy breath as I took him in. His cap was pulled backward on his head, he had his arms folded across his chest, making my mouth water as he leaned against the wall just inside my front door. A tight black T-shirt hugged his body, and with his club cut on over the top, he was the epitome of every bad ass you shouldn’t fuck with.
He took a step into the room and I shuffled on my feet. “What are you doing here?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I gotta have a reason to come by now?”
After months of sneaking around and getting to know each other, mind, body and soul, going cold turkey and not seeing him for weeks had been one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. There was just something between us that neither of us could deny. We enjoyed each other’s company. He made me smile and laugh on days where I struggled to get out of bed. And the way he was with Harlyn, God if it didn’t melt my heart and also my panties at the same time.
I squared my shoulders, standing my ground. “Well, since last time you were here you called me a selfish bitch and a horrible mother, I figured you might at least knock on the front door if you decided to come back.” The animosity in my tone didn’t go unnoticed, but it took a lot to throw a man like Wrench off his game.
“I said that did I?” he said, his face sinking with regret before walking over and placing himself so close to me that I couldn’t help but inhale his scent. It wasn’t what you expected from a biker—motor oil and leather were the usual. Wrench always smelled like expensive cologne, the type I knew well growing up around snobby businessmen and rich kids who honestly smelled like they bathed in it instead of water.
His was subtle though, enough to pull you in and want more but not enough to disrupt all your senses. Which I was glad because when I was around Wrench, I wanted to use every single one of them.
“Yeah, you said that,” I shot back, forcing a frown on my face and hooking my fingers into the belt loops of my jeans so I wouldn’t reach out for him.
He, on the other hand, had no qualms about taking what he wanted when he wanted it. “I’m sorry.” He reached out, plucking a few strands of hair from where they hung loosely around my face and twisted it in his fingers. “You went dark,” he commented, studying it closely.
A shiver ran up my spine and I lifted my chin. “I needed a change.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, the change was something I needed and had done on a whim last night after a two a.m. trip to the store, but probably not for any reason he could come up with. Peter hated my hair dark. My natural color being a mixture of brown and red. He always told me that when it was darker, it made me look hard and unapproachable, that I wasn’t sophisticated enough.
So that was the look I was going for—unsophisticated, unattractive, unworthy.
If I was going to play my part in his game, I wanted to seem unappealing and almost disgusting to him. I didn’t want him to want me.
“Why are you here, Wrench?” I finally found the courage to ask, despite the fact that his touch, even on a few measly strands of hair, was driving me absolutely crazy.
He took off his cap with his free hand, exposing his messy blond hair that I knew he hated. He tossed it across the room, and I followed it as it hit the wall and fell to the ground. With the distraction, he took the opportunity, dipping his head and pressing his lips to my neck, his body coming flush with mine. I stumbled, but he caught me, his hands pressing against my back and holding me against him.
His tongue snaked out, licking at the skin beneath my ear and forcing an airy gasp from my lips. “I’m here because we both know it’s what we want. And I for one, am sick of fucking fighting it.”
“Wrench,” I whispered, licking my lips, my mouth completely dry.
“Tell me to leave,” he taunted, his mouth grazing my neck as he trailed it lower and lower. “Tell me to leave right now, and I’ll walk out and swear to fucking God… I will not come back.”
I wanted to tell him just that, I tried to form my mouth to say the words, knowing that he would follow through, knowing that he wasn’t one to speak empty threats.
But I couldn’t.
He was right, and for the life of me, I couldn’t deny that fact. Wrench made me feel alive, with every touch or brush against my skin it electrified me and took away the numbness that had settled over my body.
That’s all I wanted. To feel something. Anything.
I didn’t want to be numb anymore.
He gave me more than that, he gave me excitement and laughter, and for those few moments that he was with me, it was as though I could release my worries and feel safe in his arms.
His hands moved down over the curve of my ass, his fingers tickling just underneath. “You’ve got five seconds,” he warned, pressing his forehead to mine. “One…”
I licked my lips, finally throwing a ‘fuck it’ to the wind and pressed my hands against his lower abdomen. His muscles clenched under my touch and it sent a spark of power through me, knowing he was just as affected as I was.
“Two…” he growled through clenched teeth.
His eyes burned into mine and I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I needed this, I needed him. I was done pushing everything aside out of fear. Maybe it was se
lfish, after everything I’d done and put Harlyn and Optimus through, that I would take this one thing for myself.
“Th—”
“Five,” I snapped, refusing to think any longer, pushing forward and pressing my lips against his. He was ready for me, catching me in his arms and lifting me off the ground. He carried me just a few steps and turned us. My back thumped against the wall. I gasped, and he used the moment of weakness, his tongue diving inside my mouth.
I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him, surrounding me, sucking the air from my lungs, stealing my soul with one kiss. My arms hooked around his neck, I held him close as his hips pinned me against the wall, holding my body up, grinding against me. His hands palmed my ass, his fingers digging in so hard that I could already tell in the morning I would have bruises as proof of this night.
I was scared to death of my feelings for Wrench, frightened how he could destroy me if he walked away… again. I’d fought so hard over these past few weeks to get my mind back to a place where I could think straight, and where I could stand on my own two feet.
I still wasn’t quite there and I worried this would undo all the work I’d done and take me right back to that place. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Wrench gave me strength that I couldn’t deny, and right now, strength was what I needed in order to fight back and get my life returned to normal. Well, as normal as my life could ever be.
Wrench pulled away and I gasped, sucking in air to my starved lungs. “No more fucking running away. Whatever you’ve got going, I want to be there with you,” he said, his breathing heavy and his eyes staring straight into mine like he could see inside my soul.
I guess maybe he could.
Wrench had seen me break down, he’d seen me struggle with the difference between reality and the lies my mind told itself.
“It’s not that easy,” I whispered, twisting my fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug. He groaned but didn’t let up.