Tattered on My Sleeve

by Autumn Jones Lake

  My heart shattered as he watched me follow Teller all the way up the stairs and never said a word.

  I should have stayed in bed. Or left the house after last night. Sitting at the dining room table was just asking for trouble. I’d gotten word from the guy who organized the underground fights that I had a match for Sunday night. I couldn’t fucking wait. Every punch and jab, I’d be picturing Teller’s smug face.

  Z stumbled in holding his head, fell into the chair next to me, and promptly pressed his cheek to the table.

  “Whatthefuck?” he mumbled.

  Even in my foul mood, I had to chuckle. “Why you even up, bro?”

  “Got shit to do,” he answered, although it was so muffled he might’ve said, “I’ve got shit in my shoe.”

  “Stop being a pussy.”

  He groaned and pushed himself off the table. “Fuck. You drank as much as me. How can you sit upright?”

  “I’m a bigger man than you.”

  “Fuck off.” Z leaned back and closed his eyes. “Fucking bullshit with Trinity and Teller, man. No one’s been able to pry her fuckin’ legs open with a crowbar since she got here. All of a sudden, the prospect gets patched and he’s up inside that. Ain’t right,” he said with a snicker.

  Cold swirled in the pit of my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the bottle of Jack I downed a couple hours earlier. “What did you say?”

  “Trinity, the club—”

  “I know who she is.”

  “So what do you need explained?”

  “Nothing, dick.” Not a fucking thing.

  I pushed out of my chair and went to find Trinity. White-hot fury rose in my chest. Why hadn’t I listened to her? The way she got so wound up fixing his party, I assumed… She tried telling me, Rock tried to tell me, and—

  Found her.

  In the laundry room. With Teller.

  Yeah, wished I hadn’t seen that.

  Wished I’d never voted Teller’s ass in either.

  Instead of beating the shit out of Teller for touching what was mine and staking a claim on my girl like I should have, I stormed down the hall.

  And smacked right into Ginger, almost knocking her over.

  “What are you still doing up here?” I snapped.

  Not deterred by my tone, she thrust her chest out and stuck a flirty smile on her lips. “Looking for you, big guy.”

  Perfect.

  “You found me.” I steered her into the champagne room and shut the door behind us. My stomach rolled. I didn’t want her.

  Ginger eyed the shiny new pole in the middle of the room. “You want a private dance?”

  “Sure, show me what you can do.” My voice came out flat. I couldn’t be bothered to fake any interest.

  I let her push me onto the bench seat that ran the length of the room. Instead of dancing, she stood in front of me, looking confused—not an uncommon state for this chick. “There’s no music,” she finally said.

  I pointed at the stereo in the corner, and she perked right up. She flipped it on, not bothering to pick out anything special, which was fine with me.

  She danced well enough, not a surprise since our strip club only employed top talent. It didn’t do a whole hell of a lot for me. I’d seen plenty of this shit before.

  Sensing my boredom, she danced closer until she was straddling my lap. “You good at lap dances, darlin’?” I asked, more to break the silence than because I cared about the answer.

  “Yeah.” Not much of a conversationalist, this one.

  She worked her bra off and my hands automatically cupped her tits. They were definitely nice. Fake as fuck, but nice.

  “What do you want?”

  “I wanna fuck,” she said with a straight face. Direct. A quality I usually appreciated.

  I jerked my chin in the direction of the door. “Grab a condom.”

  She slid off my lap, then hesitated. “I’m on the pill…” She trailed off.

  Fuck that.

  Nothing against Ginger, but bitch got around. Jesus Christ, I fucking met her while she was bent over my best friend’s desk, getting drilled from behind. No judgment—because I did my fair share of fucking around—but I wasn’t interested in catching some sort of dick rot. Nor did I feel like taking her word about the pills and being tied to this bitch for the next eighteen years of my life.

  “You wanna fuck or not?” I asked her with a hard stare.

  She pursed her lips into a pout but ran over, grabbed what she needed, and returned.

  I’d get her off. It was a matter of pride. I mean, why bother otherwise? Sex with her wasn’t quite what I wanted. No, who I wanted was busy on the other side of this wall, fucking one of my brothers. It was like wanting a vanilla milkshake and being handed a strawberry ice cream cone. Sure, it would still taste good, but never satisfy my craving.

  “Slide those panties off, darlin’.”

  Teller seemed to think we were an item now, and I had no idea how to correct him. The man I wanted might have hated my guts, but I couldn’t see myself ever belonging to anyone else. I spent years feeling so disconnected from my body it didn’t matter who touched me. For a brief time, Wrath changed that for me. Then he took it away, leaving me completely hollow.

  Teller’d taken me on top of the washing machine in the laundry room and couldn’t hide his smug smile while I straightened my clothes. I gave him a shove and he laughed.

  “Sorry I interrupted. It’s the smell of laundry detergent. Gets me every time,” he joked, settling my nerves.

  He walked me down the hall, his hand brushing mine as we passed the yoga studio and the door flew open. A flushed, sweaty Ginger stepped into the hall. Wrath right behind her.

  I sucked in a painful breath, grasping for calm, praying I didn’t look and smell like I’d just been fucked on a washing machine where anyone could have walked in on us.

  The second Wrath’s eyes met mine, I knew he knew, and I hated myself more than any other moment in my life. He replaced his frown with a mask of indifference and ushered Ginger out of the room. Teller lifted his chin and asked Wrath something, but he kept staring at me. No other acknowledgment.

  Oblivious as always, Ginger stopped when she realized Wrath hadn’t followed her. She returned to his side, rubbing her hands possessively up and down his arm. My jaw clenched so tight it was a miracle I didn’t break a tooth. Wrath raised an eyebrow at me as if to challenge my jealousy. My skin tingled as disappointment, anger, and shame all converged inside me. I had no right to be jealous or even pissed.

  The longer the silence stretched, the more awkward the whole thing became. Then Teller placed his hand on my back, snapping me out of my fog.

  “I’ve got some things I need to do,” I said, pushing past Teller to head to the kitchen.

  “Later, Trin,” Teller called after me. I raised my hand in a wave but didn’t look back.

  Couldn’t look back.

  Present day…

  Rock’s definitely going to blow a gasket when I show up at his house. From talking to Z, I already know he’s had his time with Hope interrupted once this morning. Another interruption might get my ass kicked.

  But this shit is important. Club comes first. He’s the prez. He knows that.

  I try his cell several times and get nothing, so I drive over to his house, praying like fuck they’re still there. This Viper problem just never seems to go the fuck away.

  I’m relieved to see his SUV and bike in the driveway. I park outside the gate and walk in.

  Moaning catches my ear as I open the side door to the house. It’s coming from the garage.

  Vipers would be out of their mind to pull something smack in the middle of our territory. At our president’s house for fuck’s sake. Just in case, I pull my piece and creep closer to the garage. When I peek around the open door, I almost burst out laughing. Tucking my gun back into its holster, I lean against the doorframe and take in the live sex show in front of me.

  Now I’m starting to under
stand a little better what Rock sees in this bitch. Nice, plump tits. Honest fucking reactions; no fake porn star moaning. She opens her eyes and catches me watching. She tenses up and tries to warn him, but then he does something to her that sends her over the edge. When she finally finds her brain again, I decide to end the game with a test.

  If Rock asks me to join in, I’ll know she ain’t gonna be around for long. If he rips my head off, the club may just have a problem on their hands. It’s risky. But I haven’t seen Rock territorial over a piece of ass in years.

  “Don’t worry about me, darling. Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I say, giving her my cockiest wink.

  Rock stands and spins so fast he almost tosses Hope on the ground. He’s actually shielding her with his body, so I can’t get a good look at those fabulous tits… or anything else, except his furious face.

  I’ll be damned. He’s in love with her.

  “What the fuck!” he yells.

  Whoa. Well, this may have been a mistake. I’ve never seen him this crazed over a chick. Ever.

  I back up a few steps. He’s not fucking around in the slightest. I hold out my hand in a sort of truce gesture. “Sorry. Door was open. I tried calling you.”

  “Out,” Rock barks.

  Yeah, I back the fuck out while I still have all my teeth. Even though I shut the door behind me, I hear Hope burst into tears on the other side. I feel like absolute shit. She’s near hysterical, and Rock’s talking all soft to her, trying to calm her down. Maybe I’ve been hanging with strippers and club girls too long. I can’t remember the last woman I met who had so much modesty.

  What the ever-loving fuck is Rock doing with her? No way is this going to end well. For any of us. Even her.

  Even with these revelations, guilt jabs at me when she walks inside and I get a look at her face. She’s fucking magenta from the neck up, and she’s got tearstains down her cheeks.

  “Sorry, Hope,” I manage to get out.

  She recovers enough to whisper something in Rock’s ear that makes his eyes flare. Shit, these two have enough heat behind them that even I’m uncomfortable being in the same room.

  Rock and I make a plan to deal with the Viper issue. I’ll ask Z to call the prez of our downstate charter to see if he can spare any guys and possibly some nomads who might be close by.

  Since I’m tight with the sergeant-at-arms in the Wolf Knight’s crew, I’ll handle bringing them into the meeting. We’ll all meet at Crystal Ball to hammer things out.

  Our immediate concern is this possible threat from the Vipers. Prez’s love life will have to wait. Although, his ridiculous obsession with this woman got us into this mess in the first place. Doesn’t matter. I’ll back him no matter what, but deep down, it definitely irritates me.

  Things are quiet when I return to the clubhouse. It’s still early for most of us, so I’m not surprised. I am surprised to find Trinity’s Jeep in front. Stepping into the office I share with Rock and Z, I sit down and make my phone calls. Z’s already talked to downstate, and we’ve got guys on their way up now. Whisper and Ulfric assure me they have our backs on this one hundred percent.

  My job’s done until this evening, so I decide to search for Trinity and see what she’s up to.

  I find her in the kitchen, cooking and singing softly to herself.

  “Hey.”

  She jumps, but relaxes when she turns and sees it’s me. “Hey, Wrath.”

  “Whatcha makin’?”

  Her shoulders bounce once and her cheeks redden. “Ravioli. From a package. Nothing special. Are you hungry?”

  “Sure.”

  Her face breaks into a smile, and she turns back to the fridge and starts digging stuff out.

  “I thought you were already making it.”

  “I am, but I’ll make it better if you’re going to eat with me. No reason to make anything fancy for myself.”

  “Trin, don’t go to any trouble.”

  She turns, completely deflated. Her lips push into a sad pout. “I don’t mind.”

  “Okay. Want me to help?”

  She looks at me like I’m nuts. “I got it.”

  I kinda feel like a jackass just sitting here watching her cook for me. But it’s nice too. She tumbles a bunch of cut-up vegetables through spices and roasts them in the oven, then adds them to some jar sauce she’s simmering on the stove and pours everything over a dish of ravioli.

  We eat together in silence for a while. “This is great, Trin.”

  Her cheeks flush. “Thanks.”

  “How come you don’t cook for us like this all the time?”

  She shrugs. “Except for breakfast, none of you guys are ever usually here at the same time.”

  This is true. We all usually fend for ourselves.

  Z has to walk in and ruin our moment.

  “Smells awesome in here. What’re you making, girl?”

  Trin’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Help yourself.”

  Z comes over and curls his hands over her shoulders first. Then the fucker leans over and plants a kiss on her cheek.

  “Ready for later?” I ask, hoping to distract him.

  “Yeah, why the fuck you think I’m here?” He cocks his head at me. “Also heard from Rock. What’d you do to piss him off now?”

  My lips curl in a smirk. I’m sure Rock gave him an earful. “Walked in on him and Hope in the garage.”

  Z gives me a blank look. “So?”

  “Fucking.”

  Trinity ducks her head and snickers.

  Z rolls his eyes. “Fuck. He thought I caught a glimpse of her ass this morning and almost lost his shit.”

  Already bored with this conversation, I just grunt in response.

  “You’re not feeling her, are you?” he asks.

  “No, and I think he’s dead serious about her too.”

  “No shit.”

  Does he really not see where I’m going with this? “Eventually, it’s going to be a problem.”

  “Bro, I’d stay far the fuck away from that one. You know damn well he’s been into that broad since the day they met.”

  “Don’t you have some paperwork to do, VP? Let me worry about this shit.”

  It takes a lot to offend Z. He gives me the finger and walks over to the stove. Trinity, of course, jumps up to help him.

  I’ve lost my appetite.

  Naturally, Wrath storms over to me the minute I step out of Rock’s office at Crystal Ball later that night. Rock asked me to bring some supplies and girls down with me after he finished his meeting with the Wolf Knights MC. We’ve also got Lost Kings members visiting from out of town. I want to help out any way I can, but I’m also hoping to avoid being hit on tonight.

  Wrapping his hand around my upper arm, Wrath pulls me to the side.

  He leans down enough for his lips to graze my ear. “No, Trinity.” His hoarse voice sends a shiver of desire skittering down my spine.

  Why? Why after all these years does my body still respond to him like this?

  I try to shake him off. “Rock asked for my help.”

  He loosens his grip on my arm but doesn’t release me. “You’re not dancing for these assholes.”

  My chest tightens. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with who asked about my scars. But that’s not why he’s forbidding me from dancing. Jealousy, plain and simple, is written all over his face.

  Some tender emotion I didn’t think I still had toward him brings my palm to his cheek. “I’m just here to serve drinks, Wyatt. But thank you.”

  His face softens the way it always does when I use his given name. One by one, he unwraps his fingers from my arm.

  “You know one of them will want… Trinity, there’s sixteen girls and forty bikers. They’re not all Kings. I don’t want anyone messin’ with you.”

  I’d partied with the Wolf Knights before. They were a little more “handsy” than LOKI, but they weren’t a bunch of twisted fucks who thought “no” was a code word for “jam your dick in my
ass” either. “I’ll be fine.” I duck behind the bar, leaving Wrath to chew on whatever’s bothering him.

  The meeting with Ulfric’s crew seems to be over, but Wrath still makes the rounds. He really is good at his job. Alert to everything. He watches Rock’s every move, which as the sergeant-at-arms is his responsibility. When I guess he’s determined there’s no threat, he takes up residence at the end of the bar.

  I’m instantly thrown back to when we first met. Those few nights he came into the bar to see me, take me out after work. Before everything went to shit between us. Hot tears blur my vision, and I turn away from the room to hide out by the sink while I pretend to wash my hands. Leaning over, I splash some water on my face, not caring what it will do to the minimal makeup I splattered on before leaving the clubhouse. A quick check in the bar mirror shows everything appears okay. Without thinking, I grab the bottle of Jack I’d tucked under the bar just for Wrath.

  Call me sentimental. Stupid would probably be more accurate.

  I set the bottle and a glass in front of him, then walk away to uncap a round of beers.

  The weight of his heavy gaze bores through me, but I fight the urge to turn his way for as long as I can.

  Merlin, the VP for the Wolf Knights, sits down a few stools away from Wrath, which immediately sends a bad signal.

  “Hey, Trin. How you doin’ tonight?” he asks.

  With a lot of effort, I paste on a hospitable smile. “I’m good. How’ve you been?”

  I’d have to be dead, or blind, deaf, and dumb not to feel the tension radiating from Wrath’s corner as Merlin strokes his fingers over my arm.

  Any minute, Wrath’s going to lose his shit. I don’t know why he seems to have this sudden urge to piss a circle around me. As far as I know, neither of us has declared a truce to the war we’d started with each other eight years ago.

  Speaking of war, if Merlin doesn’t back the fuck down, this is going to get ugly.

  Cookie strolls up to Merlin and runs her fingers over his neck and down his chest. “How come you haven’t said hello to me yet, Mer?” she asks in a girlish voice, complete with babyish pout.