Buying My Bride_A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

by Zoey Parker

  Get to the kitchen.

  Start the coffee.

  Stall him.

  Distract him long enough to run.

  If I could do those things, I told myself I’d be okay. I didn’t think about what would happen if I didn’t move fast enough or he decided he didn’t want any damn coffee. All I could do was move one moment to the next.

  I went to the machine and turned it on. Filling up the pot with water, I poured it into the reservoir before replacing the pot on the burner beneath it. Then I grabbed the old filter with the used grounds to toss it. Ew, there for over two days, I thought in that mindless way that kept me from panicking. Moving on automatic now, I grabbed a new filter and the can of grounds from the cupboard. I measured out two scoops, dropped them in, and set the pot to brew.

  I was practically trembling now and wished that I had more to do to keep my hands occupied, but I didn’t. There was no choice now but to look over at Shae.

  He was staring at me from his spot in front of the door. I was grateful to see that he hadn’t undone his pants any further. That would have probably sent me spiraling into hysterics and all of my plan banked on me being calm. His brows were pulled down over his narrowed eyes and his thin lips were tugged into a frown. I could read the suspicion in his eyes, but I feigned ignorance. Smiling sweetly at him, I reached for the cupboard again and found an old mug for coffee. It was chipped along the edges, but they all were. I didn’t have a single new thing in my whole apartment, because I was so constantly strapped for cash. Now, that seemed so unimportant when it was clear that my life – and my body – were on the line.

  “Milk and sugar?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. I really did remember how he took his coffee.

  Narrowing his eyes, he nodded his head. “Yeah, of course.”

  I held the fake smile in place, even though it felt like it was cracking beneath the pressure. He wasn’t going to buy this whole coffee thing much longer and he was still standing between me and the door.

  Reaching for the fridge door, I jerked it open clumsily. “Thank you for giving us another chance,” I told him, smiling until it hurt. “I won’t make a mistake again.”

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he stared at me long and hard until he finally seemed to decide something in his head. His eyes narrowed and his frown turned into something more like a grimace. His shoulders went rigid as he stepped toward me, moving quickly. “You fucking bitch, you think you can just play me? You think I’m so stupid that you can just trick me and have a good old laugh about it?”

  I didn’t even bother denying it. Instead, I looked around frantically for a way out or a weapon or—

  My eyes landed on the frying pan sitting on the stove. Before I even thought about what I was doing, I reached for the handle and in one swooping motion brought it back in front of me, using all the power in my arms and shoulders to swing that frying pan around. I caught his head with the flat back of the pan, the sound a mixture between a loud clang and a thumping sound. He let out a cry, then went abruptly quiet. He went down quickly, then, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. At first it looked like he was going to try and hold himself up on his arms, but they gave out almost instantly. Then he was just flat on the floor.

  I stood there in the kitchen, holding the frying pan, staring at him with wide eyes. I was frozen in those moments, looking down at him and wondering what I’d just done.

  How badly did I hurt him? Was he… was he dead?

  I shook away those thoughts, because I couldn’t handle them. Not right now. If he wasn’t dead, then he’d get up eventually, and I needed to be the hell out of this apartment when that happened.

  My phone’s in the hall! If I can at least get to it, then I can call the cops!

  Throwing the pan to the side, I raced forward, moving around the immobile form of Shae still lying on the floor. I tried not to look too closely at him, worried that I really had done some permanent damage. I scooted around him, scared of what I’d done and what he might still be able to do. It wasn’t until I’d gotten past him and to the door, that I heard his groan.

  He’s alive!

  It was both comforting and terrifying. At least I knew I hadn’t murdered someone, but that didn’t make me feel very good about being in the apartment with him still. I heard him mutter something that sounded a lot like “bitch” and I was reminded again that I needed to get out.

  I yanked on the door knob, but it didn’t budge. “Shit!” I remembered belatedly that he’d dead bolted the door. With shaky fingers, I fumbled with the bolt until I finally got it unlatched. I threw open the door then, slamming it into the wall with a bang. Then I rushed out – only to hit a hard, hot wall of flesh on the other side.

  Still panicked and scared I jerked back, but when two strong hands grabbed me by the upper arms, I paused. My eyes grew huge as I looked up to find that it was none other than Jules staring down at me.

  “Allison? Are you okay?”

  No, I wanted to say. I was panicked and scared and all at once, there in Jules’s arms, I felt just a little better. I collapsed against him and let myself sob into his chest.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jules

  Leo took way too long to get back to me. At least, I thought so. He griped about my impatience and asked what the fuck was so important about this girl.

  “I fucked up, Leo,” was all I told him. “And I need to make it right. Today.”

  Leo was silent on the other end of the line for a while, probably wondering who the fuck I was and what I’d done with the real Jules. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d asked. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time, not for anyone since Sandra, and it must have come off as really weird from Leo’s point of view.

  Finally, he spoke, “Alright, Ink. I don’t know what’s going on with this chick, but I hope she’s worth the boner you’re sporting for her.”

  “She is,” I answered without even a moment’s hesitation.

  He rattled off the address to me – an apartment complex in a shitty part of downtown – and I did us both a favor by not asking where he got his information. Leo had connections to the kinds of people I didn’t bother dealing with anymore. That included both the drug and arms dealers as well as the police. He’d probably gotten the information from a cop, but I didn’t want to know why the cop was so forth coming. Hell, I didn’t want to know anything about the cop to begin with.

  “Thanks, Leo. I owe you.”

  I was about to hang up, but before I got the chance, he asked me, “You sure this girl isn’t just some gold digger?”

  Anger flared up inside my chest, hot and fast. I wanted to tear Leo’s head off for so much as suggesting that Allison was anything but genuine. Then I reminded myself that I had a lot of money and all Leo knew about Allison was that she lived in a bad part of town. Granted, if he knew that I’d paid her a million dollars to take her virginity, he’d probably be a little more forceful with his opinion on that matter, but I wasn’t going to waste time going over the sordid details. We were friends, but it was none of his damn business anyway.

  I tamped down my temper, reminding myself that he was just trying to be my friend. Even so, my response came out gritty. “I’m sure. And if I ever hear you suggesting something like that again—”

  “Easy there, brother,” Leo said quickly and I could picture him with his hands up as though I were aiming a gun at his head. “I’m just trying to look out for you. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten this attached to a chick.”

  He was right, but that did little to soothe my anger. I took a deep breath and let it out. “I appreciate the concern, but I think I’ve got it covered.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ve said my peace.”

  I thanked him for the address and we hung up the phone. I tried calling Allison once more, but there was still no answer and she’d yet to respond to my text. Although it was probably just because she didn’t want to talk to me after I’d been such an ass to her,
I couldn’t help the sliver of worry working its way down my spine.

  What if something happened to her? What if something was wrong? She could have been in some sort of accident. Did anyone even know where she was right now?

  Shoving those questions aside, I headed down the stairs toward my bike. I had a car, too, but the bike would be faster. I could weave through traffic as I needed to and get there in half the time. Sure, it meant I wouldn’t be able to talk on the phone if Allison tried to call back, but I’d rather get to her quickly and talk to her face to face anyway.

  Donning the requisite helmet, I kick started my bike, then revved it before heading out. My bike was parked in the back, so I came around the side of the house and drove down the driveway toward the main room. Once I got there, I really opened her up. I’d been riding motorcycles since I was old enough to reach the pedals. My mother had angrily told me I was going to kill myself one of these days, but she never told me I couldn’t. She was smart like that, knowing that forbidding me was like an open invitation to rebel. Instead, she’d gotten me a helmet and told me to not be stupid, to get good at it if I was going to do it at all.

  A lesson I took to heart.

  Speeding down the road, I hit a spot of traffic, but was far too impatient to wait for it. I started splitting the lanes, zipping between cars that angrily honked at me. I didn’t give a shit. I wove through traffic like a dolphin in the ocean, a natural on the back of my bike.

  I took a hard right, leaning over so far I almost touched the asphalt. I should have been more careful, but all I could think about was how stupid I’d been earlier. Allison was a perfect match for me and my stupid ass had shoved her away like she might burn me.

  And maybe she still would, but I knew that regardless of that, she was right. I couldn’t spend my life afraid of getting attached. That wasn’t the kind of man I was. It was time to stop being such a pussy about it and remember that I took what I wanted and I didn’t run from anything.

  Now I just have to convince Allison to take me back, I thought as I took a left and drove down the hill toward the heart of the city.

  I drove past the lively parts of it. All those quirky little coffee shops and the hole-in-the- wall restaurants until the buildings started to get more run down. Until everything looked just a little too weathered, too beat up. I watched as the roads got shitty and the buildings looked about half a step away from condemned. In what was clearly the poor part of town, I found the building that was clearly Allison’s apartment.

  Pulling up alongside it, I spotted Allison’s car.

  Good. She’s still here.

  I took off my helmet and put it on the back of my bike. Then I looked up at the building where she lived. What a dump. I frowned. I definitely didn’t like Allison living here. In fact, I decided then and there that she would come and live with me. No way was I letting her stay in this little slice of decrepit. And if she refused to come live with me, then I’d set her up in another apartment. A nice one. One with several rooms so that her sister could have some personal space and they could put their things without feeling cluttered. I’d rather just have her live with me, but I’d make due if Allison refused.

  Getting off my bike, I shoved the keys into my leather pants, then headed toward the entrance to the building. I looked for an intercom or something, because I assumed that the front door was locked to keep those that didn’t live there out. When I didn’t find any intercom, I frowned. I looked through the windows in the door in search of a doorman or someone that looked in the office, but there was no one.

  I was quickly getting frustrated, so I pulled out my phone and dialed Allison’s number. “Pick up, damnit,” I muttered, but she didn’t. It went to voicemail again. I left another message. “I’m outside. Come let me in.” Then I hung up.

  But I was starting to get uneasy. I’d already spotted her car, meaning that she must have been home already. Why wasn’t she answering the phone? Was she deliberately ignoring me?

  Maybe she’s just in the shower, I tried to reason.

  That caused my brain to summon up all kinds of images of her naked, bathing beneath a stream of hot water. Rivulets running down the slopes of her large breasts and trickling over her navel to slip between her legs. Maybe her hand would follow the flow of water to—

  “Damnit, I need to focus!”

  Running a hand through my hair, I tried Allison again, but still no answer. I thought about just calling until she picked up, but I was starting to realize just how creepy I was probably coming off. Yeah, because standing outside the door of her apartment building is far less creepy, right?

  Shaking my head, I finally just said fuck it and made a last-ditch effort of just trying the door. I figured it would be locked and I’d have to either wait until someone came out or went in, or I’d just have to keep trying to call Allison. Thus, my complete and utter surprise when the door gave easily beneath my grip. It opened without resistance and that actually pissed me off more than just about anything.

  “Cheap fucks,” I growled. They couldn’t even bother to lock the damn doors here? Anyone could just waltz in!

  Case and point, I did just that, pulling the door the rest of the way open and heading into the lobby. I had half a mind to go into the little hole of an office adjacent to the lobby and give them a piece of my mind, but I knew better. It wouldn’t do anything. Probably, all that would happen was I’d get the cops called on me and I was really more concerned about getting to Allison and talking things over than I was about this shitty little apartment complex. Especially since I’d already made up my mind that one way or the other, I’d get her the hell out of there.

  The address told me that she was up several floors. I tried the elevator first and found that it didn’t work. I wished I could say that I was surprised, but it seemed about par for the course in this place.

  Muttering about slum-like living conditions, I marched up several flights of stairs toward her floor. When I got there, I was about to start searching for the right apartment number when I noticed a bag laying in the middle of the hallway.

  A bag that I recognized instantly as belonging to Allison.

  “Shit.”

  Not a good sign.

  I raced forward to scoop up the bag. I found her cellphone in the side pocket with all the texts and messages I’d sent her. She hadn’t answered because she’d never gotten them.

  Fear and anger mixed inside me, running through my veins like fire. Something was wrong. Urgency propelled me forward as I quickly spotted the door that was hers. I raced to it and was about to pound it down when it swung open. A second later Allison ran out of her apartment and straight into my arms.

  She was panicked, freaked out by something, and struggled to get away from me. But I wasn’t going to let her go. My hands went to her upper arms and I held her firmly, “Allison? Are you okay?”

  She stared up at me with those huge brown eyes, wondering at how I could be there. I opened my mouth to tell her, but then her gaze turned glassy as tears began to form. They lined her dark eyelashes, dampening them, right before they spilled down her cheeks. A second later she threw herself against my chest and clung to me tightly. A sob ripped from her chest. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly, shushing and soothing her as best I could.

  “It’s okay, Allison,” I murmured into her dark hair. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

  She sobbed for a moment longer before I noticed movement from inside her apartment. A man stumbled out, holding his head, his expression one of rage. “You stupid bitch!” he yelled and that was all I had to hear.

  I let go of Allison, though she grabbed at my shirt and begged me to stay. But this was something I had to take care of. I moved her aside gently, motioning for her to step back, then I turned again to the man in her apartment. He was clearly bleeding from his head and I felt a swell of pride to think that Allison was probably the one who had done that to him.

  That’s my
girl, I thought, a grim smile forming on my lips.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the man demanded, his voice nasally and obnoxious. I instantly didn’t like him and had the feeling that I’d have that same reaction no matter where or when I’d met him. Some people really were just the scum of the earth.

  The man’s eyes narrowed as he glanced first at Allison and then back at me. His upper lip curled in disgust. “Is this him?” he asked Allison. “Is this the man you spent all weekend fucking? You really are a slut—”

  He didn’t get another word out. My fist clenched and I swung before I even thought about what I was doing. All I could see was red, rage overcoming me. I wouldn’t let anyone say anything like that to my girl. Not now, not ever.