by Chiah Wilder
We had an agreement. If the cunt wants to break it off, there will be hell to pay.
Frederick had never been the forgiving type, and he had no intention of changing that.
His pet would regret humiliating him like this.
He was bringing her back. And then she would pay for what she did to him: slowly, painfully, until she was hoarse from begging for mercy. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.
He’d take her out of her misery.
He’d choke her until her body crumpled down on the floor in a lifeless heap.
Chapter Nine
Clotille’s hair whipped around her face as the Harley sped past evergreens and pine trees. Each curve made her stomach lurch and she buried her face in Rock’s back, not daring to look down at the steep drop-offs on the narrow, twisting road where guardrails didn’t exist. Every once in a while she’d sneak a quick glance at Rock, whose eyes were fixed straight ahead as he maneuvered the scariest road she’d ever been on. The wind tangled his hair and she longed to run her fingers through it, but she didn’t dare release her death grip on him. She closed her eyes again and made herself concentrate on Rock’s hard stomach muscles under her hands and his scent of leather, cloves, and earth that filled her nostrils. She’d always thought he was incredibly handsome, but he had matured into a panty-melting hunk. She squirmed a bit on the leather seat as she remembered how powerful his thrusts inside her had been that night they made love in the park when they were teens. How little she’d known about pleasing a man back then.
After forty minutes of terror around the mountain pass, they finally hit a long stretch of road. She breathed a sigh of relief that they’d made it in one piece. Expecting him to take her into town, she was surprised when he turned down a narrow dirt road. They bumped around for several minutes before stopping at a concrete and steel security booth. The man sitting inside waved at Rock, opening the gates so they could ride in.
When she got off the bike, her legs felt like jelly and she collapsed into his arms. He laughed. “Was this your first time on a motorcycle?”
She nodded, loving the way his strong arms felt around her. “It was thrilling, but I never want to drive on that road again.”
He smiled, his fingers gently pushing her hair away from her face. “I took a back road for extra security. The road is definitely not for novices. It’s even shut down in the winter. You think you can walk now?”
The strength had come back in her legs, but she wanted to stay in his arms. She felt safe in them, and being cocooned by him made it feel like none of the crap she had going on in her life existed, like it’d all been a bad dream.
“So can you?”
His deep voice melted her and she nodded. The minute he let go, she missed his closeness. He took out her small bag of essentials and cocked his head toward a large three-story brick building.
“Where are we?” she asked as she followed him.
“My clubhouse.”
“I thought I’d stay in a hotel. I have some money.” The truth was she had quite a bit of money since she’d been extremely frugal in spending the monthly stipend Frederick had given her for the past four years. Most of what he’d given her she’d stashed away. Knowing she had money of her own had given her a sense of freedom in her regimented life.
“Too risky. The security at the club is top-notch. There’s no way anyone can come in here unless they break through with a fuckin’ tank.”
She had no doubt in her mind that Frederick would purchase a tank and crash through in order to take her back. She shivered and walked through the door he held open for her.
When they entered, she spotted a few men sitting at the bar and a couple more shooting pool. Hard rock music played in the background. The men’s eyes took her in and all at once she felt self-conscious, scared, and insecure about her decision to leave the world she’d known for the last few years. The world where all decisions had been made for her. There had been comfort in that.
An older man grinned at her while he greeted Rock. “Dude. You’re back.” His gaze slowly ran up her body and she flinched. “Now I know why you went away. Fuck, dude, you got taste.” The other men at the bar chuckled, each of them assessing her boldly. Instinctively, she circled her hands around his arm, pressing closer to him.
He laughed at the guys and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He looked down at her. “Come on. I’m on the third floor.” He pulled away from her and clomped up the stairs.
She walked into a room she presumed was his. Posters of barely clad women in various poses on Harleys dotted his walls, along with Cajun folk art paintings. The room was well lit since it was a corner one, sunlight bathing the room in a hot, white light.
“Is this where you live?” She stood by the door, her arms crossed around her.
“Yeah. You can stay here until you figure out what the fuck you’re gonna do.”
“Have you always lived here?”
“Yeah. Everything I need is close by. I like it.”
“It’s a big room. Do all the men live up here?”
“The third floor is reserved only for officers. We got a few free rooms up here for visiting officers. The guys who live here have rooms in the basement. The club girls live in the attic.”
“Club girls?”
He grinned. “The women who like the protection of the club. We give them room and board and a monthly allowance.”
“And what do they do for you?”
“Keep the place clean, cook, and keep us satisfied.” He winked.
With a pinched expression, she tugged at the hem of her top. “I can see why you live here.”
He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “It definitely has its perks.” He walked over to a short dresser. “I’ll clear out a drawer so you can put your stuff in there. I’ll crash in one of the empty rooms in the basement.”
Panic zigzagged through her. “I don’t want to be alone. I’d prefer it if you stayed with me, or else every noise will have me thinking Frederick is busting in.” She laughed nervously.
Rock paused and stared at her for a long moment, then blew out a long breath. “Okay. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t kick you out of your bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” Memories of her pallet at the foot of Frederick’s bed and the cage she sometimes slept in flitted through her mind. “I’m good with that.”
An incredulous look passed over his face. “There’s no fuckin’ way I’m gonna let you sleep on the floor while I’m in the bed. You take the bed. Fini.”
Warmth spread over her like honey. “Merci, Roche.”
“For what?”
“For helping me out… for everything.” She smiled and took a few steps toward him.
“Of course. We’re from the same parish. We were friends a long time ago.”
Her heart sank a bit and her stomach tightened. Is that all he remembers of our times together? Just friends? Was our lovemaking something between friends? I recall it differently.
“And I’m Rock, not Roche, okay?”
She nodded and stared straight out the window. “And I’m Clotille.” From the corner of her eye she noticed him glance at her, a smile on his face. She wanted to go over to him and hug him hard, bury her head in his chest and breathe in the scent that tantalized her during their ride to Pinewood Springs, but she only stood there, watching him.
“You can settle in and rest. I’m gonna go downstairs and have a couple drinks with my brothers. If you want something to eat, just text me and I’ll come up and get you. Don’t wander around here alone. You’re not wearing my patch, so the guys will think you’re open for business. You know what I’m saying?”
Her eyes widened. “You mean they’ll think I want to have sex with them because I’m here?”
He nodded. “That’s the way it is. They’ll think you’re a hoodrat, who’s looking for some fun. The only women who hang at the club are the club women and the h
oodrats, and fucking is the main reason they’re here. You need to stay close to me. The old ladies wear their man’s patch, so they can come and go as they please, but if you don’t have a patch you’re telling the brothers you wanna spread your pretty legs.”
“That’s insane!”
He shrugged. “That’s the way our world rolls.” He opened the door and looked back. “Text me and I’ll come right up.” Then he was gone.
Emptiness spread through Clotille as she stood alone, looking at the closed door. She sighed and moved over to her small bag on the bed, taking out her toiletries and going into the bathroom. She turned the water on, loving the way the steam encased her. She needed a hot shower to ease her aching muscles from the hellish ride into Pinewood Springs, knowing she’d feel a lot better after. I wonder if Roche—I mean Rock—is interested in me anymore. He looks at me like he is, but then he acts like a distant friend. Maybe it’s for the best to leave the past behind. There are things that he’ll never forgive me for. We haven’t seen each other in twelve years. We really don’t know each other at all. He’s very different from when we were in high school. His outlaw world frightens me. It kills without flinching. How did everything get so messed up?
She shook her head as if to dislodge the shadows of the past and then stepped into the shower.
* * *
When Rock entered the great room, several brothers grinned at him and gave him the thumbs-up approval of Clotille. Rock smiled smugly as he swaggered over to the bar and grabbed the shot of Jack that Blade had waiting for him.
“Who’s the woman in your room? She’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” Hoss said.
“How come you been hiding her from us, bro?” Chicory punched Rock in the arm.
“She’s just a friend from back home. She’s visiting for a little bit.” He threw the whiskey back, the amber liquid warming his throat.
“Then you don’t mind if I get to know her?” Chicory propped his elbows on the bar and held Rock’s gaze.
“Don’t even fuckin’ go near her,” he gritted before he threw back another shot. Chicory sniggered. “Yeah, I wasn’t buying the ‘just my friend’ bullshit.”
“Whatever. You guys staying for a while? Maybe we can get Bones and play a few rounds of pool. I’m feeling lucky tonight.” Rock took out three joints and gave each of the brothers one before he lit his and took a deep drag.
“With that cutie, I bet you’re feeling all kinds of lucky.” Chicory nudged Hoss, who nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, we’re not talking about her anymore. So you wanna play pool or not?”
“I’d like to, but my mom is sick so I gotta go and see her in a little while,” Chicory said. “I gotta do duty at Dream House tonight. I hope Crystal’s working. She can dance real good.” Hoss smiled broadly.
“Yeah, like you’re lookin’ at her dancing.” Rock laughed and took another hit from his joint.
“I appreciate the art of dance.” Hoss brought his beer bottle to his mouth.
“More like an appreciation of tits and ass. And Crystal’s got a fine-looking rack,” Chicory said. “Who’s your favorite dancer at Dream House, Rock?”
Rock bent his head back and blew his smoke toward the ceiling. “Fuck, I haven’t been there in a while. I used to work there a lot, but now Banger wants me at the club more. Janelle is pretty hot, and Sasha has an ass that a man could sink his teeth into.” The three men chuckled and compared notes on the different strippers who worked at Dream House.
Rock turned around when he felt someone clasp his shoulder. Bones stared at him stone-faced. Rock smiled and offered his brother a joint, but Bones just shook his head.
“What the fuck’s up with you? I don’t ever remembering you turning down a smoke, dude.” Rock put the joint back in his pocket.
“Are you drunk, high, or just plain fucking crazy bringing that rich prick’s wife to the club? What the fuck, bro?”
“I didn’t tell you, but I know her from my hometown. Isn’t that a fuckin’ small world?”
“Shit’s gonna hit the fan when Banger finds out.”
Rock shrugged. “Shit’s always hitting the fan around here for some damn reason or another. I’ll deal with it.”
“You fucking her?”
“Nah. We’re just friends.”
“That’s the best kinda fucking. You know each other, no love involved, just admiration for each other.” Bones glanced at his cell phone. “Damn, I promised my brother I’d help him fix his truck. I gotta go. Looking forward to the fireworks at our next church.” He drained his glass and placed it on the counter. “Later.” Bones rushed out the door.
After a couple hours, Rock checked his phone to see if Clotille had texted him, but there were no messages or calls. He wanted to make sure she was all right, so he took the stairs two at a time until he came to his room. He opened the door and saw her lying on his bed, wrapped in one of his many quilts—Isa was fucking obsessed with them—fast asleep. He padded over to her and took in her beauty: flawless skin, hair as golden as honey in the sun, lips full and parted slightly, and long burnt-umber lashes. She’s so fuckin’ beautiful. As he gazed at Clotille, he felt magnetically drawn to her, and he brushed her pinkish cheeks with the back of his hand. Fuck, they’re so damn soft. He sucked in his breath, the desire to kiss her, thread his fingers through her tresses, and trace her body with his tongue overwhelming. He longed to see her creamy breasts and suck their nipples to hardness. His desire grew and his pulse quickened as he looked on, his jeans tightening as the need for her burned from his head to his stiff dick.
For such a long time he’d thought about her, replaying their last night together over and over in his mind, like a movie projector set on autopilot. Mixed with loving thoughts of her were strains of bitterness, anger, and… hate. When he’d needed her the most, she’d dumped him for the rich high school star quarterback, whose father had paid his way to Harvard. Rock had been the troubled bad boy, who started fights, smoked cigarettes, and skipped school. He’d been from the other side of the tracks—white trash. Then he’d beaten his dad nearly to death and had ended up in the slammer. How could he ever blame her for bailing? Even so, it’d hurt when she’d given up on him so quickly. And looking at her at that moment, the hurt he’d buried deep inside began to resurface. He wanted her desperately, but he didn’t want to be dragged into her web again. He had vowed that he’d never let that happen. My sweet Clotille. You’re a ball buster, that’s for sure.
“I like you looking at me. It reminds me of when we were young,” she said as her eyes fluttered open.
His head jerked. “Uh… I was making sure you were okay. I still can’t believe you’re here after all these years.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on with you?”
She pushed herself up and leaned against the headboard, then wrapped her arms around her knees that were pulled close to her chest. Her gaze locked with his. “Not now,” she said softly. “Tonight, I want to pretend that everything is wonderful and nothing bad ever happens to anyone.”
He watched her as her face flushed and she buried her head between her knees. It took everything he had not to reach out and stroke her hair, then press her close to him and soothe away the bad memories she had locked in her mind.
She lifted her head, a warm smile lighting her face. “Do you have food around this place? I’m starving.”
“Yeah. We got some food downstairs. You like barbecue?”
“Yes. I’m so hungry I could eat anything.”
“You lost a lot of weight since I last saw you. You didn’t need to.”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “Frederick liked me very thin. He controlled what I ate and how much.”
He walked over to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge of it. “Why did you let him control you like that?”
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and stretched out her legs. “I don’t want you to think Frederick’s a monster. He isn
’t. He’s just used to being in control. It’s his personality. He came into my life when there was nothing but chaos, and I yearned for someone to take over and tell me what to do. It really can make things simple when you let go… at least it did for me.”
“Were you happy with him?”
Her brows knitted together as she paused before answering. “I wouldn’t say I was happy, but I was safe and knew things in my life were taken care of. It’s kind of hard to explain. Frederick cherished me and I pleased him. It was a give and take.” Her stomach growled and she blushed, her hand flying to her belly.
He laughed. “Let’s go down and get you some food. You definitely need some fattening up.” He stood up and wanted to give her his hand to help her up, but he knew if he did, he’d never let go. He stood aside as she passed through the door.
She followed him into the kitchen and stood behind him as he rummaged through the refrigerator, her creamy vanilla scent coiling around his dick as want ribboned through him. “Here’s the pork. I can nuke it. Coleslaw. And some kickass potato salad. Pickles, tomatoes, and cheddar cheese slices. Perfect.” He brought his armload of goodies to the kitchen island.
“Is there any lettuce? I can make great salads.” Her eyes sparkled like a dew-misted meadow in summer. As long as he lived, her gaze would always pull him in.
“We got lettuce. Look in the vegetable bin.” A familiar easiness settled between them as he assembled the pulled pork sandwiches and she made a salad for them. He liked the feeling of being with her, acting like they were two people who didn’t have the history they did between them. He could get used to this with her. Fuck no. Remember how she ripped out your heart. So you’re having a domestic moment with the girl you crushed on all through high school. So the fuck what? You’re acting like a goddamned pussy.