by J. C. Cliff
Still, knowing all that, I can’t in good conscience let her go. I’ve already fucked up not being there for Carrie. I’ll be damned if I’m going to be responsible for the innocent death of yet another woman.
If claiming her to these fools is what I got to do, then so be it.
The table is silent as a tomb, and all eyes fall on me as I’m forced to make a decision.
Fuck me.
“If I have to fucking claim her so that the club stands behind me, then I will fucking claim her,” I snarl, sweeping my gaze around the table before locking eyes with Rush. “What I won’t do is throw her to the wolves. I’m not letting Ree go. Which also means you motherfuckers don’t even think about touching her. Don’t even fucking look at her and delete the pictures of my woman from your fucking phones or they may just wind up in the Hudson.”
I look at Rush, total resolution burning from within as I add, “Because I am not letting her go.”
Quirking his lips, Rush slices his eyes toward Brick.
“Run the print. Until that comes back, everyone has to keep their eyes and ears open. Like I said, we’re riding blind on this one. No make on a car, no fucking description, nothing but a fucking finger.”
He shakes his head and reaches for the gavel. Turning to me, he points it toward me.
“And keep that bitch quiet,” he orders. “She mouths off one more time and I’m going to fucking deal with her. Old lady or no old lady,” he says, slamming the gavel down on the table. “Go in Chaos, motherfuckers.”
As everyone breaks away from the table, and chairs are pushed back, I drop my head into my hands and mumble a curse. On top of everything else, I’ve got myself a ball and chain too. Now, to tell Ree she’s got herself a biker and a new fucking home. That should be fun.
Fuck me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The heavy steel door to Blade’s room finally opens and I cross one leg over the other as I watch Blade stop short in the doorway. His eyes widen as he scans the room, taking in my handy work.
“What the motherfuck?” he roars, waving his hand around the mess I’ve made of his room. “What the fuck is all this, Ree? You threw a fucking tantrum, is that what you did?”
I threw more than a tantrum. It looks as if a tornado ripped through Blade’s room. I probably would’ve lit his clothes on fire if I wasn’t worried I’d be trapped in this godforsaken place and left to burn.
I’m just as pissed off as he is and if my head could spin around like in The Exorcist it would.
Kicking the door shut with his boot, he balls his hands into fists. “I should’ve known you’d act like a spoiled brat and pull a scene out of The Godfather,” he growls, walking deeper into the room and righting the chair I tossed. “Connie ain’t got a thing on you, huh?”
“You!” I holler, uncrossing my legs and rising to my full height. Charging for him, I beat my fists against his chest. Destroying his room was only the beginning of my fury, I’m out for blood and won’t stop until he’s realized I won’t let anyone play me for a fool. Not my ex-husband and certainly not some low-life biker who gets his rocks off on taking advantage of women.
“Are you enjoying your new patch?” I spew venomously, sending another shot to his ribs.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” he shouts, pushing me back a few steps.
“No, I’m very much in my right mind,” I argue, closing the distance again. “I’m nobody’s bitch, you asshole,” I yell, seething. Rearing my hand back, I slap him across the face.
He grabs my wrists, squeezing them tight—so, tight that I flinch—as he grits out, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re hurting me,” I hiss, pulling my hands away. By the way he glares at me I can tell he’s angry but he relents and releases his hold on me.
“What am I talking about?” I shriek, eyes wide.
“Yeah, princess, what the fuck are you talking about?” he hollers.
I spin around and stomp two feet to where the broken phone rests on the floor. Bending down, I retrieve it before charging back to him and slamming it against his chest.
“You should really put a pass code on that fucking thing. It’s 2018, you moron.”
Prying the phone from my hand, he diverts his eyes toward the cracked screen and I watch as he clenches his jaw. The urge to slap him again washes over me. He has no right to be pissed off. Lifting his eyes from the broken phone, his nostrils flare as he tries to tame his anger. Rolling my eyes, I hold my ground and mirror his stance as I lift an eyebrow, daring him to argue.
“I’m not like the women you’re used to,” I sneer. “I’m no one’s bitch.”
“Let me explain—” he starts, voice gruff.
“There is nothing to explain,” I interject. “I told you not to take those pictures and you did. You told me they were for your own personal use, and then I find out that you sent those pictures to that asshole who calls me a bitch. God knows who else has seen them in this godforsaken pig hole. So, you know what? I am out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“The hell I’m not,” I seethe.
No longer blinded by his charms, I won’t allow this man to strip me of my will. My eyes are wide open and it’s time I grow a backbone.
“I’m getting my own ride out of here. I don’t even want to be on the back of your bike. In fact,” I pause to add, “I don’t want to be within a ten-mile radius of you.”
All I want to do is go back to my life and forget I ever placed that ad. The grass isn’t greener on the other side, and I’m a fool for ever thinking it might be.
“You’re not going nowhere,” he repeats, crossing his arms against his broad chest.
I laugh out loud.
It’s outrageous and I sound a bit manic.
“Wrong,” I fire back. “Not only am I getting the hell away from you, but I’m going straight to the police and reporting that murder.”
“I can’t let you do that either,” he retorts. His voice is eerily calm as he gives a curt shake of his head.
“Fuck you, fuck your club, fuck that asshole who called me a bitch! Fuck everything! Now, get the hell out of my way, Blade,” I screech. My temples pulse with anger and I feel my cheeks heat as I glare at him.
Silently, he turns around and makes his way toward the locked filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Blades fishes his pockets for the key and with short, jerky movements he unlocks the cabinet. Curious about this turn of events, I take a step closer and lean over his shoulder, catching sight of a variety of guns. Pushing the weapons aside, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and slams the cabinet closed.
My bravado falters as he turns his cold eyes on me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take a step backward and shake my head over and over at him.
“No,” I rasp. “Please, just let me go and I swear—”
“You’ve done enough talking,” he mutters, closing the space between us.
Blade grabs my wrist and begins manhandling me. I fight back trying to kick, squirm, and punch, but I’m powerless against his strength.
“Get the fuck off me,” I shriek as he tosses me onto the bed. In the midst of my struggles, I wind up getting my right wrist cuffed to his bedpost.
“You want the other wrist cuffed? Just keep it up,” he clips.
“You fucking bastard,” I sneer, my chest heaving with anger.
“Been called worse,” he retorts.
“Unhandcuff me now,” I demand.
Ignoring me, he stands to his full height and crosses his arms. His biceps strain against the thin fabric of his t-shirt as he assesses me with a steel expression planted on his face.
"You ain’t going nowhere. You’re going to settle the fuck down and you’re going to let me explain what happened.”
“I don’t want an explanation from you. I want nothing from you other than to get the fuck away from you.”
“I’m not going to say it again, Ree, so listen real fucking
carefully. You’re not going anywhere. Seeing as you’re already handcuffed, it would be wise for you to realize we’re playing this shit my way. Now, if you don’t shut the fuck up and let me speak, I got no problem taking a roll of duct tape to that pretty little mouth of yours.”
Knowing he probably wouldn’t hesitate in taping my mouth shut, I grind my teeth. Accepting my compliance, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed and drops his elbows to his knees. Turning his head toward me, he starts to explain, “I wasn’t the one who answered your ad.
“The whole reason I showed up at the bar and took you to that fucking concert was for those men to stop busting my fucking balls. I’ve been a prospect with the club for a while and with that comes a shit ton of hazing. They swore to me this fucking stint was the last thing I had to do before I got my colors. Nobody, and I mean nobody, was getting in the way of me and that fucking patch. Now, there are reasons, reasons I can’t disclose to you, but I assure you, it was nothing personal. I needed those pictures to prove I did what was asked of me,” he says, pausing for a beat. I watch as he glances down at his boots before lifting his gaze to mine. “All of this was a joke to them. No one was anticipating a murder.”
“So, I’m a joke to you.”
“You’re not a joke,” he stresses. “You are in a very dangerous situation and I’ll be damned if you become the next murder victim.”
“Why do you give a damn? If all you care about is your precious gang then let me go. I can pretend I never met you and you can go back to being their lackey.”
“I’m not a fucking lackey,” he hisses.
“Seems that way to me,” I retort. “Why do you need this club so bad?”
“Let’s get something straight, Ree,” he snarls, turning towards me. “What I do is none of your fucking business. I gave you an explanation as to why I took those pictures but that’s where it ends. I won’t share shit with you, least of all why I need the club’s backing. These men, they’re my brothers, they are all I have in this world and they come first. They will always come first. All you need to know is that this shit between us”—he waves a finger between us—“it wasn’t personal.”
Scoffing, I turn my head away.
“It sure felt personal to me,” I mutter.
“If we would’ve met under different circumstances, things may have been different, but this is where we are. We have no choice but to deal with the hand we’ve been dealt.”
“I can get my own protection,” I tell him, “I don’t need you or your men.”
“Stop being so fucking hardheaded,” he grinds out. Running his hands over his face, he peers at me. “As God is my witness, you are in danger, and I can’t let you walk out of here just so you can go get yourself killed. So, until those guys are off the radar and I know that you’re safe, you’re staying here.”
“How chivalrous of you,” I mumble, rolling me eyes as I shake my cuffed wrist. “I’m handcuffed to your bed while you hold me captive. You’re a fucking prince.”
“You can keep resisting me and make this fucking miserable for the both of us or you can understand I care enough about you and your life that I won’t stand by and wait for it to end.”
“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,” I argue.
It’s obvious that anything I say grates on his nerves, but I don’t give a damn. I’m tired of this nightmare. If he wants to keep me here, he better be prepared for me to raise hell.
As if he can read my mind, he shakes his head at me and says, “Give me a week. One week. That’s all I’m asking for. One week to get this shit straight, and then I’ll let you go. Just let me get the shit sorted out and then you’ll never have to see me again. All right?”
I’m momentarily speechless as I think about his offer. I don’t trust him. Especially after knowing he lied about those photos.
“Why do you even give a shit about my life?"
“For fuck’s sake, woman, would you shut the fuck up and let me do what I gotta do,” he shouts. “I swear, you will never have to see my fucking face again after this week.”
I cross my one arm over my chest and let out a huff.
Blade rises from the bed and starts to clean some of the papers strewn across the floor. Without another word, he rights the furniture and takes a seat at his desk. Shifting through the papers, he ignores me, but the tension between us is still very palpable.
“I have a life, you know,” I call out. “People are going to notice I’m gone for a week. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a search party already out there looking for me.”
“I’m aware of your privileged life, princess,” he retorts, keeping his back to me.
“Well, what you’re not aware of is that I took the license number provided with the ad and had a background check done. My best friend’s husband has your information.”
At the revelation, he turns his head and narrows his eyes at me. For a single moment I feel like I may have the upper hand.
“I know people too,” I jeer.
Game.
Set.
Match.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“You got five fucking minutes,” Blade warns. “So help me God, you say anything off script and I’ll make it two weeks instead of one and I’ll duct tape your mouth shut. Don’t test me, Ree.”
After revealing I had a background check done on him, Blade lost his shit. The calm, cool, and collected man disappeared. I watched him pace the room for about five minutes, wondering if his boots were going to wear a hole in the floorboards. Finally, he quit pacing and agreed to let me make one phone call. We went over what I would discuss, and he warned me not to veer off track.
Now, no longer cuffed to his bedpost, I’m mentally rehearsing the lines I’m allowed to tell Trish as Blade turns on his burner phone.
“Do you agree to the terms,” he questions, holding the phone just out of my reach like I’m a dog.
“Fine. Yes, I agree.”
Satisfied with my answer, he opens the phone and asks, “What’s Trish’s number?”
He punches in the number, hits call, and with wariness swirling in his eyes hands the phone over to me. Before he can change his mind, I snatch the phone from his hand and press it to my ear. Trish picks up on the third ring and at the sound of her voice, I’m engulfed with relief.
“Hey Trish,” I greet, keeping the tone of my voice neutral.
“Ree!” Trish boasts. “I’ve been blowing up your phone. You didn’t come home last night. Where are you? What’s going on?” she rambles on, firing question after question, not letting me get a word in edgeways.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
Meeting Blade’s gaze, I watch him raise an eyebrow. For a fleeting second, I contemplate disobeying him but two words wouldn’t come out of my mouth before he took the phone and grabbed his roll of tape.
The bastard. “Hello? Annmarie, you better start talking—”
“Trish, stop!” I interrupt, swallowing the lump in my throat. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The desperation in her voice makes me long for home and feel like crying instead of fighting. With Blades intense gaze weighing heavily on me, I force my tears back and lie through my teeth.
“Everything has been so wonderful. We had such a good time last night, we decided to head over to Cape May for the rest of the week. Johnny found the cutest bed and breakfast and well, you can assume the rest.”
“Are you serious?”
It’s hard to decipher her tone, if she’s curious or if she’s calling me out on my bullshit. Deciding to roll with the lies, I continue to trump my horrific date into a fairytale.
“He took me to this quaint little place for the most amazing brunch and now we are just relaxing in the room before we go take in some sights. Trish, we’re having such a great time. Everything is simply fantastic.”
“I’m going to assume you’re calling me from Johnny’s phone, which leads to my next question, where is your phone?”
“I lost it at the concert,” I reply, my voice even hoping she can’t hear the deception in my tone.
There is a beat of silence before she draws out an exasperated sigh.
“Well, Dean knows you didn’t come home last night. I told you that man was crazy. He’s resorted to stalking you! Anyway, he has been hounding me about it. I was so worried about you, but I told him that you were fine. I said you were a big girl and that you can go out and spend the night anywhere you damn well pleased.”
Biting my lip, I process the news. I’m not necessarily shocked that Dean was sniffing around, trying to locate my whereabouts but I’m surprised he went to Trish sniffing for information.
“Thank you,” I tell her with all sincerity. “I didn’t think he’d take the stalking as far as to contact you.” At this Blade leans in and raises a brow. “I’m sorry he got you involved in all this. If he calls again—”
“I can handle Dean. There is more,” she sighs. “When I slammed the door in his face, he went to your mother. Now she’s been blowing up my phone every five minutes, asking if I heard from you. It’s been a real circus act here.”
At the mention of my mother, my body goes rigid and I nervously scratch my arms.
“You can tell her I’m fine,” I bite out, clenching my jaw.
“Annmarie, she says she hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”
“We kind of had a falling out of sorts,” I reply, hoping that’s enough to pacify her. I don’t really want to rehash the argument I had with my mother. Not with Trish and certainly not in front of Blade.
“Well, whatever happened between you and your mother, you need to push that aside and call her or get home for your father’s sake. He’s not doing well.”
My stomach sinks at the news. He’s been struggling with his health for the past two years, and I’m afraid he doesn’t have much time left.
“So if you want to enjoy the rest of your weekend with your biker boy, you better call your mother because knowing her, she’s about to send out a search party for you.”
“Since I lost my phone, please call her for me.”