by SL Schiefer
“What’s yours? Me? Dude, you barely got past first base but I belong to you?” My Angel scoffs at me.
“You want to see what I do? Come with me back to the clubhouse. Come see what we do. Not everything we do is illegal. I won’t lie, we are involved in some dirty shit, but that doesn’t make any of us less of a person than your blue collared shits who decided to stay the straight and narrow and stay in their boxed in lives. Just because we choose to live miles outside the box, doesn’t make us any less deserving of finding that person we love so fiercely we would lay our lives down for them.”
I stand up, walk around my desk, and hold my hand out to her. She looks at my hand for a beat, then my face, but finally places her hand in mine. Pulling her up, I reach my free hand up to cup her jaw, then slide it into her hair. She leans up, almost pressing her lips to mine.
Closing her eyes, she breathes. “Mace, the thing is, I don’t want someone to sacrifice their life for me. I want someone who sees me as an equal and lets me stand beside them, protecting us both. I don’t need fiercely, I need passionate. I need burns so bright it hurts your eyes to even look. I need someone who isn’t afraid to show me how he feels, even in front of his friends. I want someone to have my back in whatever I do, even if they think what I’m doing is a mistake. I need to live, to be able to breathe on my own. I don’t want to depend on a guy for my happiness. I want to be happy being apart, if we would have to spend time apart. I want both my lives and my relationship to blend together so there is no awkward. And most importantly, I need a guy who will not lie to me. Even if it’s to save my feelings. I’m not your fragile little princess. The only person who would ever getting away with treating me as such would be my dad.”
I smile at her, she has no idea. “No, you’re not princess. You’re an Angel. You fight to protect what you believe in, you love with everything you are, and you put your family first. That makes you more deadly than me. C’mon. I’m going to let you in on my life. You wanted answers, you’ll get them. But know that I will find out who punched you. They will pay with their life.”
I press my lips against hers, just barely. “Because, Angel, that’s what I do. I protect what’s mine, no matter the cost.”
Chapter Thirteen – Raven
IT SEEMS NO MATTER how many I times I remind Mace that I belong to no one, he never listens. But that’s the least important item on the list of things to work on right now. I was nervous about going to find him, allowing him to see the damage to my face. It’s been a few days and half of my face is still as ugly as can be.
Jazz feels horrible about it, no matter how many times I try to reassure her. Thankfully, Dad’s recuperating at home, nursing his wounds. Luke and I refuse to allow him to come back to the shop until he’s cleared by the doc. Luke, on the other hand, holy hell. He put on quite a show in the office, yelling and swearing about ‘killing the motherfucker who did this.’ Even threatened to go to my Dad if I didn’t explain. It took some convincing and white lies, but he finally calmed down. Obviously, I had to pull the ‘don’t bother Dad he has enough on his plate with his recovery’ card. The last thing I need is for him to find out about this.
I was fearful for what Mace would say, but I needed to know why he was so against the idea of me going out with Jake –besides the obvious reasons. The exchange between the two of them at the drugstore was tense to say the least. He warned me, yes, but why? How did he really know?
When Mace told me how he felt about me after everything, part of me melted. Part. The other part? The other part is reluctant to believe his words. We barely know each other. Yes, the chemistry and attraction is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I want to believe his words. I want to believe in him. In us. If there ever will be an us.
Why does shit have to be so damn complicated?
When he asked me to go somewhere with him, I almost said no. Almost. But then I realized I won’t ever get the answers I’m looking for if I don’t at least let him try. Right? So here we are. In his car—which took me a few minutes to fawn over. She’s a beauty, a dream. I would love to have a ride like this. If there wasn’t so much drama bullshit happening in my life right now, I probably would’ve done anything to convince Mace to let me drive her. But today, I just don’t have the energy for all of that. Today, need answers. I need to know what the hell I’m getting into with a guy like Mace.
I’ve been sitting quietly in the passenger seat, Mace recognizing I just needed some time to collect my thoughts. To prepare myself for what he was about to show me. I just… after Jeremy, I need honesty. I need passion. I need someone to burn for me like I burn for them. Someone who can keep up with me, support me, be faithful to me as I am to them. I’m just not so sure that Mace can be that guy—despite the attraction between us.
“I’m not really sure.” I roll my head away from the direction of the window to look at him. God, he’s so perfect. Dangerous. Sexy. Strong jaw. Chiseled, masculine features. Muscular, badass. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s nice to know someone other than my Dad, Luke, and Jazz feels protective of me. That someone cares enough to be. Hopefully it’s not a crock of shit in Mace’s case.
“Just stay open-minded. You want me to accept you, and I do. Now, I need you to try and accept me.”
“I can do that.” I smile.
We pull into a long, gravel drive and are soon greeted with tall gates, which look a mix of medieval town walls and prison gates—minus the barbed wire on top. Before we are too close, the gates automatically open. I look quickly around, trying to take it all in, but I don’t see anyone there to open them for us.
We continue up the path, which is lined with a few trees and lush green grass. Similar to when I went to the bonfire with Jake, picnic tables are scattered near an older warehouse style building. A fire pit sits alone off to the side and bikes and muscle cars litter the area. Literally—they’re fucking everywhere. Oh my God. I’m in heaven.
I hear the deep baritone rumble come from Mace as he laughs, his rough fingertips teasing the skin above my knee. I peel my face from the window and turn to him. “What?”
“Do you know how fucking sexy you sound when you moan? And I haven’t even gotten you naked yet.” His eyes darken as they scan my entire body. A rush of need swims through me, a tingling sensation left in the quake of his gaze.
“I can’t help it.” I shrug. “I have a huge female hard-on for magnificent machinery.”
“Just another reason why you’re perfect,” he tells me, his fingers gently squeezing my leg. “You ready?”
“I’m not going to see dead bodies or anything, am I?” I say jokingly.
“No. At least I hope not.” He winks at me.
As we walk up to the door, my heartbeat starts to accelerate, butterflies knowingly present in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s not like Mace would allow anything to happen to me. After his macho tantrum over the ugly bruise marking my face, I know he’d keep me safe. I think.
My eyes immediately start to graze over as much as possible, as quickly as possible, the moment we walk through the door. It looks like a hangout for overgrown men. A workout area, fully equipped with weights and machines, is sectioned off by a row of windows. The rest of the area looks to be a lounge with a bar area and a row of tables dividing the rest of the room from the space with the pool table. Off to the side is a mini stage with two stripper poles, one on each side. Interesting. People litter the area. Women are dressed similar to the men, all made up of leather and denim. Some younger chicks are dressed in next to nothing. There are a few men playing a game of pool, an action movie is playing in the back, and people are slamming shots back at the bar.
I feel most eyes burning into me. My face heats, my palms sweaty. I’ve never been one to care for attention; it actually makes me want to puke.
The heat from Mace’s hand burns through my tank, into the sensitive skin of my lower back. Instantly, my heart rate begins to settle, the
butterflies going to sleep—if only temporarily.
“So is it a big party all day long here?” I turn to Mace, his face mere inches from mine. My eyes lock on his lips, and my breathing picks up. You shouldn’t be here, Rave. This man will only be trouble.
“No,” he smiles. “Not always. But we had a death in our family, and it was cause for us to have to raise security measures for a bit. It’s safer for us all to be together for the time being.”
“I’m so sorry, Mace,” I whisper as I turn to him. I raise my hand and place it gently against his strong, stubbly cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I feel horrible coming to him, hounding him for answers when he—they—just lost someone they loved.
“Because I care about you, Angel. I need to make sure you’re okay. Like I said, I take care of what’s mine.”
“Ugh.” I drop my hand from his face and turn away from him. “We’re back to that, huh? How many times, Mace? I am not yours. I never will be. I’m no one’s,” I remind him quietly.
“We’ll come back to this conversation later,” he growls. “Do you want a tour?” He increases the pressure of his hand at my lower back, leading me to the bar where a handful of men sit. Instantly, I recognize two of them as the men who came to help clean up the shop. All of them look at me, but none of them say anything. Their expressions are hard, like they’re trying to figure out why the hell I’m there. Otherwise, they give nothing away.
“This is Raven,” Mace tells them. “Angel, this is Benny, Creep, Bruiser, G, and Runner.” They all greet me with a round of head nods or hellos and go back to talking amongst themselves.
“Want a drink?” Creep offers.
“Umm… sure.”
“No fruity shit allowed, though,” Bruiser tells me. “We don’t do that shit here.” His remarks lead him to get a slap in the back of his head by Creep.
“The lady can have whatever the fuck she wants, man,” Creep informs him before offering me a smile.
“It’s cool. I’ve never been one for fruity shit. Unless it’s a flavored mojito. But I’d be golden with some whiskey or even a cold beer.”
“Oh, man! I had you figured all wrong,” Bruiser laughs and slaps his fist on the old, tattered wood top of the bar. “Get the lady a beer!”
***
I’ve met some interesting people today, men and women. From the looks on about half of their faces, they’re trying to determine why the hell I’m here, and why Mace is with me. The other half accepted me right away, offering me drinks, shots, or to join them in pool. Only a few people questioned the bruise decorating my cheek, but I never had to answer. Mace would just mention the word “Jake” and they grew hard, nodding once at Mace before changing the subject. It was a bit odd, and I’m biding my time before I question Mace about it. Who the hell is Jake to all of them?
There were quite a few who made crude comments to me, but working in the shop for what seems like forever, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Although, judging by the growls coming from Mace, and the fact that he never stopped touching me in some way, it was obvious he didn’t care for it at all. Which, I have to say was nice, since he had the barely dressed women coming up and propositioning him constantly. Apparently, he’s been around. With quite a few of them. I’m not one to judge people due to their sex lives, I mean, look at Jazz. But it’s a little unnerving, especially seeing his previous conquests in action while I’m standing right next to him. Fucking sluts.
I lean into him, turning my face to whisper in his ear, “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
Mace’s arm around me tightens before he stands from the couch we parked our asses on earlier. He extends his hand out to me, helping me up, and leads me down a hallway that I now know leads to some of the ‘bunks’, which is their term for their bedrooms. Apparently, they all have houses or apartments outside of here, but each one of them also has a bedroom and bathroom of their own here, as well.
Mace opens the door and I step inside. Everything is black. Black furniture, black bedding, black and white pictures on the white wall. His bathroom has vintage black and white tile, decorated with black towels and rugs.
“Black your favorite color?” I joke.
“Always has been. I think black is sexy and mysterious.”
I turn around from the bathroom and see him leaning against the closed bedroom door. God, he looks like pure perfection. I clear my throat and decide to stay on the opposite side of the room from him. I’m afraid if we get too close, I may never get the answers I need. That our bodies won’t allow us to get that far. I lean against the door frame separating the bedroom from the bathroom, crossing my legs at the ankles, and folding my arms across my chest.
“So why do you call yourselves a club? I thought clubs were for old people or kids.”
“We’re a family here. We take care of each other, and we’re exclusive. Not just anyone can join us.” I watch him as he answers, his body now mimicking mine. His eyes are narrowed slightly as he answers.
“You call them your family, but what about your real family?”
“They’re around. We’ve been estranged for some time, but that’s something I’m working on,” he says as he averts his eyes from mine. Hmm… apparently that’s a subject we’ll have to come back to eventually.
“What about Jake?”
His head snaps up, his eyes burning into mine with an anger completely different than what I’ve seen from him before. “Jake’s a motherfucker who can’t be trusted. He’s pure evil,” he snarls.
“What makes you say that?”
“The bruise on your face is clear as to why that’s true. There’s no way in hell I’d let anyone do that to you and get away with it. No fucking way.”
“So what exactly does your club do? I mean, I know you said you help people and you take care of each other, but what’s the dirty stuff you’re all into? Heroin? Prostitution?”
“Valid questions, Angel. No, no heroin,” he shakes his head. “We don’t touch that shit, and if someone is caught doing that shit, we help their ass until they prove they can’t be helped, and then they’re out. Shit’s nothing to mess around with.”
“So what do you guys mess around with?” I feel like he’s avoiding a bit, and it’s not sitting well with me.
“Drugs, yes. But not hard stuff. Heroin, crack, acid, shit like that is off the table. We don’t touch it. We have the club, we volunteer from time to time. We do have girls who do private parties but they’re always fully protected. And it’s their choice, not ours. The rest I can’t disclose to you. I just have to ask you to trust me, Angel.”
“Why?” Why would I trust him if he can’t be honest with me?
“Why what?”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Club business is just that… club business. It’s a need to know thing. The ladies aren’t a part of that. It’s safer for everyone.”
“Do you kill people?” My voice comes out in a whisper. I don’t think I can handle it if he does.
“I have, yes. But not just anyone, Angel. The people we’ve taken out, deserved it. They’re pure evil. They’re people who don’t deserve to live amongst people like you.”
“People like me? So you all think you’re God?” My voice is loud, my brain running a thousand miles a minute, trying to decide where to go from here.
“No, I don’t play God. We protect our own. We protect the people who need it. We do what the law can’t, because the laws prevent them from being able to, even when they should. And people like you. Good people. People who deserve the world.”
Wow. I guess I can see his point. There’s been plenty of times I’ve heard of something off the wall where people walked free from being imprisoned due to a fucking technicality. The legal hands were tied. I guess I get it. Kind of.
“Okay… and all the sluts? The guy from Jake’s bonfire called Jazz and me club sluts. Chicks willing to get naked and suck their dicks in front of anyone. Following orders like a damn dog. It’s
apparent you all have those here. I’ve come to determine who’s an ol’ lady and who’s a club slut. Is that what I am to you? A fucking club slut?”
Please say no. Please tell me that’s not what all this is. I don’t know if I could handle it if he tells me this isn’t what I want it to be. Even though I’m not sure we are a good idea, my body thinks differently. For once in my life, I think I’m ready to listen to my body instead of my head.
Mace pushes his body off the door and stalks over to me with purpose, his eyes narrowed, his body wound tight. He stops when my breasts just barely graze his chest. Warm, calloused hands frame my face as he leans his face just breaths from mine.
“Don’t lie to me, Mace. I need you to be completely honest with me. Am I a club slut?”
Chapter Fourteen – Mace
MY ROUGH HANDS hold on her to soft face. I can’t help but feel the difference between us. Even though she works on cars, she has the appearance of something delicate. Something you want to place on a shelf to look at and not touch. Something like a fucking flower.
She’s beautiful like a flower but has the bite of a rattlesnake. Something she’ll need around here.
“You think I would go through all the trouble I have with you just to fuck you once and be done with you? Do you realize club sluts are passed around between all the guys here? I’ve worked this damn hard to get you here, in my room, to have you and then sit back to let another guy have you. Anyone touches you besides me and I’ll fucking put a bullet in between their eyes after I break every fucking finger that touched you.”
I run one hand into her hair at the base of her neck and lean my head forward. Running my nose along her jaw, but not stopping until my nose is almost at the back of her neck, I inhale.
When I pull back, I see the goose bumps that have broken out along her skin. So I do have an effect on her. I can’t keep the grin off my face.