by Jenika Snow
Making her way through the throng of people once more, she handed the girls their drinks, and in record time they finished them, laughing. The buzz was strong within her, and although she was trying to keep her mind off King, it was hard as hell. This tingling covered her entire body and she glanced around the club, expecting someone to be looking at her. But all she saw was people dancing, sweaty bodies, and flashing, low lights.
“You only live once. Come on girls,” Vicky yelled, and they started dancing again.
The music pulsated through her, and the heat and alcohol made her lightheaded. Clara closed her eyes, continued to dance, and got lost in the feelings of swaying, the heat in the room, and just feeling very good and content in where she was in her life right now. She didn’t know how long she danced, but soon hands moving around her waist from behind her and warm breath along her neck had her tensing.
“You can move, baby.”
Clara spun around and stared at the guy who stood behind her. The guy was clearly drunk and started swaying, his grin spread wide over his mouth. The scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke came off him strongly. He was also sweaty, the pit stains evident. She felt disgust that this guy had touched her.
“Fuck off.”
He grinned wider.
“Hey, I can make that happen, baby.” He wrapped his arm around her waist again, but Clara pushed him back.
“I said fuck off. That wasn’t an invitation.”
He stared at her, sweat sliding down his forehead, and then made a move at her again. He was either too drunk to realize what the hell he was doing, or he was a fucking idiot. Before he could touch her again she felt someone behind her, felt the heat as if it consumed every part of her. She looked over her shoulder, tilted her head back, and looked into the face of a very pissed off King. Payne and Beast were behind him, their expressions furious as well. Their focus was on Bridget and Vicky and when Clara looked at the other women, she noticed they were no longer dancing and their stares were locked on their men.
King’s nostrils flared and his face was a mask of anger.
King pulled her behind him, and Payne and Beast went and wrapped their hands around the other two women’s waists.
“King?” she said, but he either didn’t hear her or he didn’t care.
King was on the guy in a matter of a second. He slammed his fist into the side of the drunk’s face, and the other man fell to the floor instantly.
“You motherfucker,” King growled out, and the sea of bodies parted around them. He picked him off the ground and punched him in the face before letting him fall once more.
He went after the guy again, but she rushed forward and grabbed his shirt, pulling him back.
“He’s not worth it. Come on, King.” She tried to pull him backward, but it was like trying to move a tank. Clara sure as hell didn’t want King doing this.
He stopped, looked over his shoulder at her, and the rage she saw on his face was like a blast of cold air. She let go of his shirt and felt her own anger rise. What in the hell was he even doing here?
“You think he shouldn’t get the shit kicked out of him for touching you?”
She didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say.
“I think we should go.”
“No, Clara, He touched what wasn’t his.”
She lifted a brow. “I’m not yours, King.”
He was silent for a second, his nostrils flaring. “Are you sure about that, baby?”
“God,” she said through her anger. “What the hell? Why are you guys even here?”
“We’re here to make sure you’re okay.”
She shook her head. “Girl’s night out doesn’t mean having bikers stalk us and lurk in the shadows.”
King growled and stared at her as he wiped the blood off his knuckles and onto his pants. “You’re mine, whether you want to fucking admit it or not.”
God, seeing him wipe off the blood from the fight he’d just been in was hot as hell. Clara didn’t respond, just turned and pushed her way past the crowd, and went outside. This had gone too far, but she didn’t know if she was pissed about the whole thing, or if having King declare her as his was what she always wanted.
Chapter Seventeen
Clara looked so fucking sexy. King wanted to bend her over the nearest surface and pound the fucking shit out of her. Instead, he was pissed off and angry. What was it about this woman that was driving him crazy?
When they’d found out the women would be going to the club they’d been all for following them and making sure some motherfucker didn’t mess with them. They could have stayed at the club, watched the pussy that hung out at the MC walk around and be flaunted in his face, but King wasn’t interested in any of that. He just wanted one woman, and that was Clara.
Then he’d seen that punk ass drunk touching her, and sanity and civility had left him. He didn’t want anyone touching what belonged to him, and whether Clara liked it or not, she belonged to him.
Watching her curvy ass walk away from him pissed him off, but it also turned him on.
King followed her outside and smirked when he saw how angry she was.
“What is your problem?” she asked, spinning around to face him.
“I don’t have a problem.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.
“You just went psycho on that guy for no reason.”
He lifted a brow, his amusement fading. “No reason? Did you want his fucking hands all over you? He was drunk as a fucking skunk, Clara.”
“You didn’t have to do that, though. I was handling it. I could have handled it.”
“You do that a lot, don’t you, babe? You handle everything.”
Clara folded her arms across her chest. “That is none of your business.”
“Actually, when it comes to you, it is my business. My dick has been inside you, and you belong to me, so it is my business.”
“And what in the hell are you doing here anyway? Did you three follow us?”
He didn’t answer, and she looked as if she got even more pissed.
“I wasn’t going to fuck him, King. This was supposed to be a girls’ night out, and yet you three decided to come and what, rescue us if things got out of control?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And you know I’m pissed at Payne. Why bring him along?”
“Payne and Vicky’s problems are their own. Don’t get involved in them,” King said.
“She’s my best friend. She’s like a sister to me.”
He stepped toward her. “Payne’s not going to let you interfere with Vicky. You’re lucky he let you get away earlier.”
“He’s an asshole.”
King reached out, grabbing her arms. “Let it go, baby.” He stared at her lips. “Is this what you do when you find someone you want, when you start to feel for them? Is this getting too deep, too heavy for you?”
She shook her head.
“You start to feel scared so you make sure it’s someone else’s fault for you to leave.” He was starting to see through Clara’s little act, and it pissed him off.
“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Clara said.
“Yeah, I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He took a step toward you. “Finding someone scares the shit out of you, doesn’t it?”
She shook her head. “This is crazy,” she whispered.
“It’s not. You find a reason to leave every time someone gets close to you. What the fuck is it going to be, Clara? Are you going to run every chance someone gets fucking serious about you?”
Clara laughed. “We’re not serious. You want me because I’m different from all that pussy at your club. Nothing is different here.”
“Fuck you, Clara.” He shook her, annoyed as hell with her. He was so damn mad. Payne wasn’t mad at Clara but at himself for what he knew to be true.
“There’s no one in this world that cares about me like Vicky does. That’s why I don’t want anyone messing with her or her em
otions.”
King shook his head. Payne wanted Vicky for more than club pussy—King knew that. Hell, everyone knew that, but Payne was too much of a stubborn hard ass to do anything about it.
“You need to just walk away from them and focus on us.”
She pressed her lips together and he smirked. He was getting under her sin. “Come on, baby.” He pulled her close and placed his hand between her thighs. “Let me fuck the stubbornness out of you—”
She brought her knee up, getting him in the balls hard enough that he went down.
He cupped himself. “Fuck!”
“You don’t have any right to touch me like that, to just brush away how I feel.” She was crying.
Staring up at her through the pain, King gritted his teeth. “I’m in love with you, Clara.”
Silence fell on the whole of the parking lot, and she froze, her eyes widening. He heard the door of the bar opening and closing.
“What the hell?” Vicky said, shock in her voice.
Glancing behind him, he saw Payne, Vicky, Bridget, and Beast. Great, they were all about to see him getting shot down. And they all had probably heard what he’d said.
“Did you put him up to this because you want me to stay?” Clara asked, throwing the accusation toward Vicky.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t ever do something like that.”
Something was seriously wrong if Clara really believed that her own friend would get him to admit his feeling toward her. But she was crying heavily now, looking like she was on the verge of really losing it.
“Is it too hard for you to believe that others are capable of loving you?” Vicky asked.
“Don’t,” Clara said, her voice sounding tight with emotion.
“No. I’m not going to back down from this.” Vicky moved to stand beside him. “What is your problem?”
“My problem? What about you? You fuck a guy who is using you. Before you start judging someone else, take a look at your own life.” Clara was wiping the tears away as she spoke.
“This isn’t good,” Bridget said. “What are you doing, Clara?”
King saw the conflict in Clara’s eyes. He didn’t get it, nor did he understand it.
She shook her head. “No, I’m done. I’m gone.” She spun around and started walking.
“Clara, no!” Vicky called out.
King saw the car coming toward Clara, but she clearly didn’t notice it because her head was downcast. He ran toward her but didn’t know if he was going to make it in time. He rushed as fast as he could, but the person driving clearly wasn’t paying attention.
He watched as the car hit Clara.
Everything froze while his entire world crashed around him as he watched the woman he loved roll across the top of the hood of the car before falling to the asphalt.
King rushed to her side, wanting to pick her up but afraid in case he caused her any lasting damage. “Call a fucking ambulance,” he roared out to whomever was listening. The car that hit her was parked to the side, and the guy that got out looked panic, afraid. King wanted to beat the shit out of the guy, but he stayed by Clara’s side instead.
“Clara, Clara, oh God, I’m so sorry,” Vicky said, now beside her. “That car hit her so hard. Is she breathing?”
He pressed his fingers against her neck, finding a faint pulse. “She’s alive, but her pulse is faint.”
“Ambulance is on the way,” Payne said. “This is fucking crazy shit.”
“Not now,” King said. Clara had clearly been through a lot and obviously had a lot on her mind. It was clear she was afraid of commitment, but he couldn’t let her go. “I love her, Payne. I’m not going to let her go.”
“It’s hard for her to let people in, to let love in,” Vicky said and looked at King. “I think that’s why she’s so resistant to admitting she loves you.”
“I’m not walking away from her. I promise you. I will be with her for the whole of my life.”
He grabbed Clara’s hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. In the distance he heard the ambulance siren. Clara was going to make him fight to keep her, well, she had just met the stubbornest man in the Grit Chapter of Soldiers of Wrath. He was going to get her and keep her.
Chapter Eighteen
King was a fucking mess. He hadn’t left Clara’s side for the last two days, and although he wanted to scream at her to wake up, shake her to open her eyes, he was gentle with her, barely touching her for fear he’d hurt her further.
Vicky was sound asleep in Payne’s arms in the corner of the hospital room. She’d refused to leave Clara, and he couldn’t blame her, because he was the same way. He loved Clara, and her being hurt was eating him up alive. He wanted to just take her home ... to his home, to be the one to make sure she was on the mend. But the doctors had her in a sedative-induced coma to help lessen the swelling in her head. They’d started lowering the meds bit by bit to allow her to wake up on her own, but fuck, this was hell.
He leaned back in the uncomfortable as fuck chair, ran a hand through his hair, and breathed out. Even unconscious Clara looked so damn beautiful. All he could think about was their last conversation. What if she didn’t wake up? What if he never got to see her beautiful eyes open again? What if he never got to tell her he loved her and hoped like hell she’d say it back?
Fuck.
He stood and started pacing, feeling like a caged animal.
“Why don’t you go get some coffee, man?” Payne said, his voice thick with sleep.
King looked at the other man, knowing he was losing it but afraid to leave Clara.
“She’ll be okay. We aren’t going anywhere. Walk off the energy, King. You’re strung tight and have barely left her side. You won’t be any help to her when she wakes up if you’re about to tear through your skin.”
Aside from going to the bathroom and taking a five-minute shower in the bathroom attached to the room, King hadn’t been away from Clara’s side. This situation had made him realize he truly did love this woman, and he hoped like hell she came around so he could tell her that again.
The pain was the first thing she felt. It controlled her entire body ... her mind and very soul. But Clara couldn’t move, didn’t even want to for fear it would hurt too much. As she tried to think of what happened, the darkness took over, hiding what she wanted to know, what she needed to understand.
Her heart was racing, and she felt sweat line her forehead. Was it because she was in so much pain, or because she was scared as hell? Clara couldn’t even catch her breath. Slowly opening her eyes, it took a second before her vision focused. At first she was staring at a white wall, but as she turned her head she realized she was in a hospital room. Shifting on the bed had her wincing and stilling instantly.
She lifted her arm to rub her eyes but realized she had an IV in the crook of it and a bandage wrapped around the entire length of her forearm. She could see a little bit of blood on the stark white bandage. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of what in the hell happened, and then like a flash of light behind her eyes, it rushed back to her.
The club.
The fight with King and Vicky.
The pain of getting hit by the car.
Groaning, she tried pushing herself up on the bed a bit more, and through the pain managed to prop herself up. Sitting in the corner was Vicky. She was curled up on a chair with a blanket wrapped around her. She rubbed her hand over her face but stilled when she felt another bandaged wrapped around her head. Sweat coated her skin, and she breathed out. Everything rushed through her mind, but it was still slightly hazy.
Her face throbbed and her ribs ached. After pushing away the blanket that covered her, she glanced down at herself. She was dressed in a hospital gown, and her leg was wrapped in a bandage as well. It hurt to even try to move it, so getting out of bed was a no-go. Scanning the rest of her body, she saw she was covered in bruises. Clara grabbed the edge of her gown and pulled it up as a tightening pain filled her. She had black and blue bruise
s that covered one whole side of her body.
Dropping the material back over her body, she looked around the room again. The door was shut, and the sound of the IV pump filled the small space. And then the sound of the door opening came through and King and Payne walked in. They spoke low and held cups. King was the first to see her awake and when Payne did as well, they both stopped. A moment of silence filled the room before King spoke.
“You’re up.” He was by her side a second later, having set the cup down to grab her hands. She stared at him, emotion rising up as she realized how close she’d come to dying. “You’ve been out for almost a week,” King said, his voice tight. “After the first couple of days they took you off the meds you were in and out, hallucinating.” He looked and sounded so damn happy right now.
Another second later and Vicky was on her other side, crying.
She looked between the two of them, the people she loved so damn much it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Clara wheezed out, her throat sore, her mouth dry. And then she started crying because the rush of emotions was too much to hold in.
Chapter Nineteen
“Don’t cry. There’s no need to cry,” King said. The relief was instant at finally seeing her awake. He’d faced guns and a shit load of problems because of the club. None of that crap had scared him like this. The thought of losing Clara...he never wanted to go through that. Fuck, he loved her so much.
Other people had died from being hit by a car, and she’d looked so fragile and delicate that he’d only been able to see her gone from his life. He hated that. He hated being helpless while she was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. There was no one for him to fight to get his anger out. He could only watch and hope she pulled through.
“I’m so sorry. I was so stupid.” She kept on sobbing, and he looked over at Vicky to see she was also a little startled by Clara’s outburst, tears streaming down her cheeks as well. “I was such a horrible bitch to all of you, and I was so wrong.”