by Jenika Snow
She nodded and walked over to the chair that hadn’t been fucked in, or at least not just a few moments ago. Once she was seated she stared at Mayhem, watched as he leaned against the wall, the shadows slightly concealing his face, but the danger and anger coming from him like a blow.
She waited a moment before she spoke again. “I planned on leaving him before things went bad. I had bags packed, was going to take some time away after I ended it, just to clear my head. He’d called me over to talk, and I could tell by his voice he was upset. It was my fault for going over there in the first place, knowing he was angry, but I just wanted this over with. My car had been running on fumes when I got to his place, and I had my bags in the back. When I walked inside he was standing by the fireplace with some pictures in his hand.”
“Pictures?”
She nodded. “Apparently he’d been going through my shit when I wasn’t home. He found some old pictures.” She let that hang in the air between them for a moment. “They were pictures of Big and me when we first started…” She thought about what they had been doing back then. “When we were seeing each other.” Claire figured that was the safest wording to use, especially with Mayhem. Her brother might know the extent of her and Big’s relationship two years ago, how it had been sexual, because they didn’t keep their sexual relationship secret, but that didn’t mean she was going to call it like it had been … straight up fucking.
“Tell me, Claire,” Mayhem said in a hard, unyielding tone.
“He didn’t like finding those, like they were recent or something. The idiot thought we were still seeing each other.” She chuckled humorlessly, feeling her emotions rise up, consume her, threaten to suffocate her. “I guess I was too mouthy for him, not backing down.”
“That’s my girl.”
She smiled, but she felt no happiness in her brother’s praise. “He hit me.” She touched the side of her face, feeling her anger rise, the fact she’d let a man put his hands on her, that she hadn’t realized Steven had been a prick sooner. “I grabbed the first thing I saw, something I could use as a weapon that was closest to me.” She took a deep breath, remember bringing it down on his head, hearing this sickening crack, and seeing the blood slide down his forehead. “There was a hot poker by the fireplace where I was standing. I just snapped when he put his hands on me, and took that poker and hit him on the head.”
Mayhem pushed away from the wall. “Anyone hear anything, see anything, Claire?”
She shook her head. “We were inside in the living room, and the curtain was shut. There wasn’t any shouting, just name-calling and the hit.” She leaned back in the chair, knowing her brother asked her these things because this was bad, very bad.
“Is he dead?”
She shook her head. “No. I heard a crack and saw blood, but he was still breathing and cursing me as I ran out of there. He shouted at me that he’d find me and make me pay as I ran out the door, but I could hear in his voice he was in pain. He struggled getting that threat out.” She shrugged. “I was able to get to a gas station and fill up. And then I just hauled ass here.”
“And you just came here, didn’t think about calling me before all of this happened? I could have taken care of it, Claire.”
She nodded. “I wasn’t thinking, Mayhem,” she said and looked up at him, feeling like she was breaking in two. “I just kept thinking that I’d really hurt him, and that he’d come for me. It was stupid going over there, really fucking stupid.”
Mayhem was silent for several seconds. “Do you think he’ll call the cops?”
She thought about the question, and then shook her head. “I doubt it. He was a party guy, smoked a lot of pot, did some coke here and there, but he has a record. Just petty shit, or at least that’s what he told me. Calling the cops would bring light on him, and I don’t think he’s that stupid.” She felt safer at the club, for obvious reasons, but this felt like home. “He’ll come after me, Mayhem, I know it, and although I’m not afraid of that, I am afraid of this situation.”
Mayhem looked sympathetic and walked over to her. He pulled her out of the chair and gave her a hug. “It’s okay, Claire. Everything will be okay.”
She nodded. “I know, but I’ve never been in a situation like this, Mayhem.”
He pulled back and smiled down at her. Her brother might be the same age as she was, have the same black hair color and light blue eyes, but he was so big, so muscular. Her five-foot-five height had nothing on his over six-foot tall posture.
He wasn’t just her brother. He’d always been her protector.
“No one will fuck with you again.” He pulled her in for another hug, and she breathed out. Her thoughts were consumed with what was going to happen, with how it would go down. She knew her brother wouldn’t stop until he tracked down Steven, and although the fucker deserved what he got, she didn’t like the feeling like she had to run to her brother, the club, for help.
That’s what family is for.
“Did you tell any of the other guys … Big specifically?” he asked but still hugged her.
“You know the answer to that.”
She felt him nod.
“I don’t know what went down between you and Big, just that you left partially because of him, but either way, and no matter what, you’ll have to talk to him.”
She hadn’t really told Mayhem the full details of why she wanted to leave, just that things hadn’t worked out, that there were things with Big she couldn’t deal with. After she’d assured him Big hadn’t hurt her, because Patch or not she was Mayhem’s sister, and if Big had laid a hand on her Mayhem would have gone ballistic, her brother had let it go. He didn’t pry, didn’t question what happened, and she’d been thankful for that. He’d accepted what she’d said, and that was the end of it.
“I know, and I will, but I don’t think right now is the right time. I need a minute to process this before I jump into that.”
“You know this is your home. You stay here as long as you want, Claire.”
“Thank you, Mayhem.” She’d known she’d be welcome, and aside from the Steven issue, the main issue on her mind was Big, and how she was going to deal with that.
****
Given the circumstance Mayhem thought he’d done one hell of a job keeping his shit together. He waited until Claire was out of the room, the door shut, and he could no longer hear her footsteps moving down the hall, before he turned toward the wall. Curling his hand into a fist, he reared his arm back and slammed it against the plaster, pieces of it falling away. The pain in his knuckles wasn’t anything compared to the rage he felt.
“Fuck,” he said to himself and shook off the discomfort in his hand. He was going to fucking kill that bastard, and he knew, even after the shit that had gone down with her and Big, a situation neither of them had really told him about, he knew Big would be all up in this, too.
Yeah, things were going to get dark where that bastard Steven was concerned. Claire should have never left the club, never left her life, especially not because of Big, but Mayhem hadn’t stopped her. She was an adult, able to handle herself, and he wasn’t her father, no matter how much Mayhem wanted to protect her.
But he’d get revenge on her behalf, and it would be sweet fucking destruction.
Chapter Three
Claire sat in one of the spare rooms at the club. She’d never been one to have friendships with the sweet-butts, not because she thought she was better than they were, but more so that they hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. Maybe they saw her as some kind of threat, or maybe they were jealous because she had a relationship with the club they’d never be able to experience. The guys didn’t want sluts as old ladies. They wanted women that had their backs, that were just as strong as they were.
Maybe that’s why Big had never made Claire an old lady? Maybe she wasn’t strong enough.
She rubbed a hand over her face, but immediately dropped it to the bed and winced. Her face was sore, felt swollen, and she knew it
was bruised. She hadn’t looked at herself in anything more than her small mirror in her bag, and it had been bad enough that she hadn’t wanted to see anymore. She should have killed Steven when she had the chance, because then she wouldn’t have had to worry about him tracking her down. But then she supposed she’d be in a different kind of shitty situation.
Breathing out, her body exhausted, but her mind still running a mile a minute, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She thought about her reaction when she’d seen Big, about how much she still wanted him. That wasn’t a surprise though¸ not when she loved him still. God, yeah, she loved him, even after all this time. Leaving had been a dumb move, but at the time it had seemed right, like it would solve her problems. It hadn’t, not in any way.
Claire had thought about Big daily. When he hadn’t come for her, hadn’t told her he was in love with her, too, that he wanted her as something more than a piece of ass, she’d told herself moving on was right. It still hurt like hell though.
His reaction today, as he stood there and just stared at her, no emotion on his face, told her nothing had changed where he was concerned.
“You’re here for one reason and one reason only. Big doesn’t have anything to do with it.” She closed her eyes and tried to get some rest, because she knew the next sequence of events would be pretty hardcore.
****
Everyone was in the meeting room, no one sitting, all the Patches watching their VP as he clenched and relaxed his hands at his sides. Their President, Fury, stood by the wall, his arm crossed, a mean motherfucking look on his face. Fury usually wore that expression, and unless you knew him personally and were on his good side, it was best not to cross him. That was how he got his nickname, because fuck with Fury and that’s what you got from him.
“By now you all know Claire is back,” Mayhem said as he looked around the table at all of them, his jaw clenched, the anger from him clear. “And I know you’ve all seen that fucking bullshit she has on her face from that motherfucker, too.”
The guys started shifting on their feet, their murmurs low, the tension in the room high.
“I’m going to kill him,” Big said, not giving a shit who heard, or the amount of anger in his voice he didn’t bother hiding. He was seething with rage, wanting to rip the guy’s throat out with his bare hands for even thinking he had the right to look at her, let alone touch her.
“I think it’s safe to say we all want a piece of that bastard,” Fury said, his jaw clenched tight, his dark hair and eyes, and the sheer size of him making him seem like the very devil himself.
“When are we going after the asshole?” Stone asked.
“Yeah, let’s go fuck him up,” Dirty said, with Dealer grunting in approval.
“Let’s see what Mayhem wants to do. He’s her brother,” Fury said, pushing away from the wall and walking toward the table.
“Fuck that,” Big said, staring at Fury.
“Calm down, man,” Fury said, his voice tight.
“I know you’re pissed, but I am, too, brother. We all are,” Mayhem said and stood straighter. “Believe me, that piece of shit motherfucker will get what’s coming to him tenfold.”
Another round of murmured agreement filled the room.
“How do you want to handle this, Mayhem?” Fury asked. He might be the president, but this was a blood situation, and Mayhem had the upper hand when it came to dishing out retribution to that prick because it had been his sister that had been affected. Claire might be family to them all, but Mayhem’s relationship trumped anything any of them might have had to say.
Mayhem was silent for a moment, but then looked up at Big. They held gazes for moment. “You talk with Claire?” Mayhem asked.
Big shook his head. “No, and before you say anything her not telling me doesn’t mean what we had back in the day didn’t mean shit. I want a piece of that bastard as much as you do, and I think I have a right to it.”
Mayhem nodded once and went back to looking at the table. “Big and I can hunt down the motherfucker.”
Fury nodded, and the other guys grunted their acceptance of the situation. “We’re here if you need extra muscle, or if you need a cleanup.”
“I want any and all info on that piece of shit dug up,” Mayhem ground out through clenched teeth.
“We’re on it.” Dirty was the one to respond. “Give us a few days to get all of it together.”
Mayhem nodded once. “Thanks, brothers,” Mayhem said, but he was staring at Big when he spoke. The silent communication was being passed between them, both men saying without words they wouldn’t ease up on the bastard that hurt Claire, and that they’d go after him and make him bleed and hurt until he pissed himself like a little bitch.
Big looked at each of the club members: Fury, Mayhem, Dirty and Dealer, Shorty, Ash, and Stone and Woods. All of these men were his family, bound by blood and brotherhood, violence and menace. This was the life they led, they’d accepted, grew stronger from, and this was just the gasoline they needed to make their fire burn brighter.
That was the way of the club, of what the Patches did for each other. Fuck with one and you fucked with all. Big was going to get off on hurting that asshole, on making him bleed and breaking bones. He’d said he would stay away from Claire and give her space and time, but after this, after what had been decided, Big didn’t want to stay away. He needed to talk to her, to let her know he still wanted her, and he’d make sure she knew that he wasn’t going to let her walk away again.
He’d been an idiot and an asshole for screwing shit up with her, for not going after her. It had taken this bullshit situation, her getting hurt by some prick, for Big to realize how special she really was to him. He loved her. Fucking hell did he love her, and even if it took the rest of his miserable life to prove to her, to make amends for letting her walk away, he’d do it begging on his knees.
It was fucked up he’d allowed two years to pass between them, his stubborn ass not seeing what was right in front of him until it was gone. But he’d make it right. He had to make it right, had to make her his no matter what.
****
Two days later
It had only been a couple of days since Claire had shown up at the club in the middle of the night. She was in one of the backrooms of the clubhouse in a room Mayhem had designated as hers. She stared at her clothes on the bed, the ones she hadn’t bothered putting away. Technically they were all she had now, or at least until she went back to town. But she honestly didn’t know when that would be, especially with her asshole ex still there.
Dirty had been the one to take her bags and set them in here when she’d first arrived, telling her this was her room and that she was home now. But all she had been able to do then was nod.
She felt numb inside, scared, and she hated that she was putting the club in this situation. But Claire had no other option. She was afraid of Steven and his threats, and a part of her knew his promise to come after her had been real.
Staring at her bag that she’d set on the bed, she thought about how she still had things she’d left behind at her place. But Claire couldn’t find enough emotion to care right now. That had never been her home, not really. She’d never felt more at home than she did now, in this club. But she’d go back eventually, because even if her apartment hadn’t been a home, just a place where she lived and was lonely, she wasn’t about to desert the things she’d collected over the years. She knew Mayhem and the guys would go after Steven eventually, but she wanted to go back to her place and collect her things. Claire didn’t like being the person that had to rely on someone else to handle her problems, but now, with Steven, she was in over her head. She’d never dealt with anything like this before, and she was truly afraid of the level of craziness in Steven.
Her apartment may be a small one-bedroom apartment that didn’t hold very many memorable times in it, but it was still hers. She wanted her shit out of there, wanted to start over someplace else. No way in hell was she
staying in that town where Steven only lived a twenty-minute drive from her. Yeah, she was a person that could be flighty, that could just pack up and leave if it didn’t feel right. It wasn’t as if she had anything holding her back, not even her job, which was cleaning up offices.
Shaking her head and sitting on the edge of the bed, she ran a hand over her face, mindful of her still healing bruise. There was a knock on the door, and before she could look up it was being pushed open. Mayhem pushed the door open only enough that he could step inside, his big body making this room feel small. The walls were cinderblock, and the only window in the room was above the bed and not even big enough to let a good airflow in. The bathroom was off to the side, but at least it was attached to the room, giving her a bit of privacy.
She might feel like this was where she belonged, but staying here meant she’d have to deal with what happened, or didn’t happen, with Big. And that scared her, too, almost as much as the crap she was in now.
Maybe it didn’t make much sense to people who hadn’t gone through it, but for her it was very real.
“You doing okay?” Mayhem asked and walked further into the room. He stopped a few feet from her, and she moved over on the bed, giving him space to sit down.
“I’m fine, just thinking about all the shit I left behind at my apartment.”
“With everything that happened that’s what you’re worried about?” He grunted out the words. “Only you would care more about your clothes than that motherfucker.”
She jabbed him playfully in the ribs, trying to keep the situation light. For as big as Mayhem was, and for the dangerous reputation he had, and rightfully so, Claire just saw him as her brother, her twin. “I’m not worrying about my clothes, just realizing I don’t have anything here. I need to go back at some point and get my things though.”
He grunted in acknowledgment. “Are you going to leave again and go back there when that motherfucker problem is solved?”
She knew the answer, but she didn’t respond right away. “No. That wasn’t really a home. It never felt that way.” She looked up at her brother. “I missed you and the club too much.”