Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)

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Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8) Page 74

by Natasha Thomas


  Boss rests his hand on Beth’s knee, giving it a gentle pat and signaling for her to go and sit down with Avery who is silently fuming on the opposite side of the room to Lena with her husband, Fury, standing behind her.

  Clearing his throat, Boss has our undivided attention as he explains why we’ve been summoned.

  “Before I get into what happened today, I just want to let you know that the main reason you’re here is so that we’re all on the same page as to how this is going to play out after today. I respect the hell out of you, Knight, and my wife and Fury’s care about your woman. You’re in between a rock and a hard place here, so I feel for you, brother because that shit’s not easy. That’s why I asked Jonas to call you. You have the right to know how we’re going to handle the situation if Lena shows up here again, insulting and disrespecting our women.”

  “But, I didn’t do anything wrong,” an obviously highly intoxicated Lena whines.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” Fury snarls.

  “Look,” Boss cuts in. “Zara wasn’t here last time, so for her sake, I don’t see any reason in rehashing the past. Needless to say, trying to deal smack in my clubhouse is far from the least of your fuck ups, Lena.”

  I didn’t want to believe it when Jonas filled me in on why all the Vengeance women were so pissed off with my ex. Lena hadn’t been into that shit when we were together. If anything, she was vehemently anti-drugs, being a nurse and all. But putting my disbelief aside, the evidence of how far Lena had fallen since our divorce was undeniable.

  Jonas guided me to the end of the bar where he and Fury had laid out what they had confiscated from Lena’s car and purse. Spread across the surface were hypodermic needles, tourniquets, spoons, and what looked to be, at least, fifty or more tiny zip lock baggies of what I was told was and now know is Heroin.

  I found Lena in the clubhouse kitchen, with Gage, Cash, and Sly who were standing guard to make sure she didn’t take off while their backs were turned. I confronted her about the drugs, asked where she got them, how long she’d been dealing that shit and got nothing. Not so much as an acknowledgment that I was even there.

  Later, Jonas told me, Lena was high as a motherfucking kite when she managed to con one of the prospects into letting her inside the clubhouse during one of their infamous Friday night parties. She was barely coherent by the time they found her hunched over the toilet in one of the members’ rooms and were close to taking her to the hospital if she didn’t snap out of it.

  Before Lena passed out hugging the porcelain, she had managed to offend every one of the old ladies whose husbands had just been there looking to have a good time with their wives and brothers. None of the men asked for Lena to touch and grind all over them, or for her to do a striptease for them while she fingered herself on top of the pool table. They weren’t interested in buying what she was selling either.

  My gut rebels at the memories of Lena begging me for another chance, promising to get clean if I take her back. She pleaded with me to drive her to rehab, saying that she would stay and complete the entire program if I agreed to withdraw the divorce.

  Seeing her like that only further confirmed that I was right to sign our marriage away. Any love that I had for Lena which may have lingered longer than it should have died that night. She is a shell of the girl I fell in love with in high school, and the polar opposite of the woman I married.

  People change, and I get that; I sure as fuck did. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a fucking fireman for Christ’s sake. But instead, I married my high school sweetheart, joined the Army to save my family’s business and left for the very same reason. Not once in all those years did I think that by the time I turned thirty-two, I would be running a multi-million-dollar male escort service, divorced, and looking to start my life all over again with the woman I secretly harbored feelings for but was deemed off-limits to me.

  However, no matter how much I changed or the new directions my life has taken, my core beliefs and hard limits – the things that make up the real me – have never and will never change. Lena, on the other hand, was rapidly losing her grip on reality and the woman she once was every time she depressed the plunger on one of those needles.

  Zara jerks on my lap, snapping me back to the present instantly.

  “You’re a fucking junkie?” She spits as if the words are acid on the tip of her tongue. “Have you lost your goddamn mind bringing that shit in here? Jump is a recovering addict you thoughtless, bitch. It’s hard enough for him to keep himself on the straight and narrow without you offering up temptation on a silver platter.”

  “Here, here,” Avery seethes.

  “I don’t have to answer any of your questions, slut. Why are you here anyway; Knight couldn’t find another cock warmer for the evening?” Lena returns, her voice harsh and tight, filled with venom and contempt.

  A hearty laugh escapes Zara’s mouth, but is smothered moments later when she says,

  “I’m relatively sure Knight could have any number of women scrambling to climb on his dick with one click of his fingers, but I’m not the kind of woman who likes to share. Especially when it comes to my husband.”

  The last barb Zara throws at Lena hits true, causing my ex to flinch. Zara and I haven’t hidden the fact that we’re married, far from it. I can’t keep my hands off her on a bad day when we’re both busy and hardly see each other, let alone on a good day in which I have all the time in the world to tie my wife to my bed and fuck her repeatedly until she passes out from sheer exhaustion.

  “Knight,” Lena questions in a much softer tone.

  Sparring her a quick glance over my shoulder, I incline my head and run my hand across Zara’s belly under the hem of the T-shirt she’s wearing.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but Zara and I got married three months ago and are expecting our first baby in about six months.”

  “Oh my god,” Beth squeals. “Congratulations, sweetie. I’m so happy for you,” she says, jumping up excitedly to embrace us both.

  Avery is next, planting a loud, exuberant kiss on Zara’s lips and one on my cheek.

  “I don’t know whether I should be pissed my wife is kissing yours or turned way the fuck on,” Fury mutters, adjusting himself in his leathers. “My cock’s really fucking confused right now.”

  Boss chuckles at his admission and so do I.

  “Go with the latter, brother. The former is a waste of time,” I suggest, feeling my dick stir at the thought of watching Zara with another woman. Not that I’d ever share her with anyone – man or woman – but I can’t help my body’s reaction to the images of a woman kneeling between my wife’s thighs devouring her sweet, wet pussy. I am a man after all.

  “Now that’s settled, back to the fucking point of this meeting,” Boss growls, redirecting our attention again. Addressing Lena, he says, “If I see you near the clubhouse, in any one of our businesses, or talking to a prospect, member, or their old ladies, I will put a bullet right between your fucking eyes. My club has a zero tolerance policy for drugs and bullshit, and you come with a shit ton of both, so my advice is to stay away. Better yet, move. Pack up and move somewhere nobody knows you, and you can start fresh. More importantly, get help, Lena. Whenever you get where you’re going, whether it’s an inpatient hospital program or rehab it doesn’t matter, just get yourself some fucking help.”

  Lena’s eyes are wide, and her mouth is slack as she absorbs Boss’ bluntly delivered words, but she doesn’t have a chance to answer before he goes on to state,

  “What happened to you, no woman should ever have to go through, but it doesn’t have to define you. The shit they carved into your back, the burn, and scars, how they treated you while they had you doesn’t have to consume the rest of your life unless you let it.”

  “He’s right you know,” Avery speaks up. “I could have given up like you have, but I didn’t. Instead, I leaned on my family and friends to help me through the worst of my pain until I was strong enough to go it
alone. But the thing is, Lena; I was never alone. I had Fury. More than anything, I wish I could say I’m sorry for what happened to you, but I’m not. You pushed everyone away, treated your husband like shit, cheated on him, lied, stole, and then nailed your coffin shut by turning to drugs to numb the pain you are too weak to face head on. That’s on you. All of it. You made those choices, and now you have to live with them.”

  Turning into her husbands’ arms, Fury whispers something into her ear before I hear Avery mumble,

  “I want to go home, Tanner. Take me home please.”

  “Sure think baby. We good here, Boss?” He asks curtly.

  “Yeah, head out. Church tomorrow at eleven, brother. Now go take care of your woman,” Boss tips his head, indicating to the door.

  Scooping her up in his arms, Fury doesn’t hesitate to stride out the door, his heavy boots thudding down the hall that leads out into the main room.

  “Let me up, honey,” Zara requests. Seeing the question reflected in my eyes, she gives me a sad smile and nods. “I want this over and done with once and for all. You and I both know everything isn’t always as it seems, so just because it looks like she gets it now doesn’t mean that will last past this afternoon.”

  This is what I’ve been dreading; the inevitable confrontation between my past and my future. Part of me wants to do exactly what Fury just did; pick Zara up, carry her to my truck, and drive us home away from all the drama and extraneous bullshit. The other part needs to let my wife do this.

  Zara has always been someone who needs closure. Whether it’s a book, movie, or a tall tale a barfly is telling her when they’re both drunk off their ass, she has to know how the story ends. It used to piss me off when we were younger, all of Zara’s incessant questions about why, how, when, and the hypothetical what if’s. These days, I chose to view her curious nature as cute, instead of annoying as fuck.

  As Zara climbs off my lap, I stroke her belly one last time before she’s out of reach.

  “Don’t do anything to jeopardize this, sweetheart,” I say gently, loving the feel of her soft skin under my fingertips. “I’ve been waiting for what seems like half my life for you and this baby, so be careful, yeah?”

  “I promise,” she murmurs, kissing me soundly.

  Then, in a whirlwind of activity, I don’t think any of us could have anticipated, Zara grabs Lena by the hair and drags her out of the room by it. Boss, Beth and I follow behind them until we reach the main room where everyone has stopped to stare open-mouthed at Zara.

  “Where is Jump?” My wife yells over the sound of muffled voices and whispers.

  Stepping out from behind the bar where he had been cleaning glasses, Jump swats Mia, who I hadn’t noticed before was even here, on the ass on his way past before coming to a stop just off to Zara’s left.

  “I’m here, sweet thing. Something I can do for you?”

  “Stop calling me sweet thing for one. It’s creeps me out when you say shit like that,” Zara informs him, adding a mock shiver at the end for effect.

  “Consider it done,” he grins.

  Tugging on the hank of Lena’s hair she has wrapped around her fist, Zara encourages,

  “Isn’t there something you wanted to say to Jump, Lena?”

  “I’m sorry,” she says quickly and without feeling, refusing to look at him.

  With a flick of her wrist, Zara releases Lena’s hair and twists her arm behind her back, bending her pinky finger back on an angle that for all intents and purposes should have snapped it off. Lena whimpers and lets out a cry of distress, but my wife ignores her. Using the toe of her sneaker to kick the back of her knee, Lena’s legs give way, sending her crashing to the floor.

  “This is probably a novel concept for you, but instead of injecting shit into your veins, why don’t you try to inject some sincerity into your apology?” Zara sneers, tightening her unrelenting grip on Lena’s arm.

  “I-I-I’m sorry. So sorry I brought that stuff here. I-I didn’t know,” she blubbers.

  Zara trains her eyes on Jump, presumably assessing his willingness to accept her apology this time around. When she’s satisfied by whatever she sees in Jump, Zara squats down beside Lena and says loud enough for everyone to hear,

  “This is for being a selfish, thoughtless, bitch who should have known better than to fuck with someone’s sobriety.”

  A short, sharp snapping sound echoes around the room followed by Lena’s pain-filled scream. Her pinky is at a right angle to her hand now, and there’s no doubt in my mind it's broken.

  Seemingly unfazed by the wailing woman trying to curl herself into a protective ball, Zara doesn’t let up. Placing Lena’s hand flat on the floor, Zara stomps her heel into the center of it, applying as much of her weight as she can, and then jerks Lena’s middle finger backward until it snaps too.

  “Stop. Oh God. Please, I promise I won’t come back,” Lena cries. “I’ll leave town. I’ll leave the state. Please, just stop.”

  Shaking her head unrepentantly, my wife states,

  “That one was for Beth, Avery, Blaine, and Aislinn all of whom you managed to upset with your pathetic attempts to seduce their men.”

  On a roll, Zara takes Lena’s thumb in a firm hold, twisting it in the opposite direction to her forefinger, dislocating it with minimal effort. Shit, remind me never to piss her off. My wife is brutal when she’s angry.

  Another scream is torn from Lena’s lips when she looks down at her rapidly swelling hand.

  “Help. Oh God, someone help me. She’s fucking crazy.”

  Vengeance newest prospect, Shade steps forward, making a move to go to Lena’s aid, but Cash stops him with a hand on his chest and a sharp shake of his head. I can see the confusion written all over his face at these men allowing a woman to be hurt, regardless of who is inflicting the pain, and I can’t say I blame him.

  Usually, I would have stepped in to put a stop to this two fingers ago, but nothing about the shit Lena is into makes this a typical situation. Not to mention, I trust my wife implicitly, and in turn, I trust she knows what she’s doing.

  “Ow, that’s got to hurt like a bitch,” Zara commiserates, insincerely. “Just so you know, the thumb was for, Knight because that’s where you tried to keep him for years; under it. You schemed, manipulated, and deceived him, and when that didn’t work, you outright lied to him. I didn’t think I could hate someone as much as I hate you, but for what it’s worth, congratulations on proving me wrong. The day you walked into that abortion clinic for the first time, my dislike of you turned into intense hatred. From the very beginning, you didn’t deserve a man like, Knight, but you were never more undeserving than every day you broke his heart by telling him you couldn’t give him the only thing he ever wanted aside from you.”

  Zara takes a deep breath and straightens until she’s standing upright. Glaring down at Lena with undisguised disgust, my wife finishes by saying,

  “If I ever see you within five hundred feet of my husband, my brothers, Nate, or any of the men in this club again, I can promise you that a couple of broken fingers will be the least of your problems.”

  To everyone gathered around watching the interaction between them it appears as if Zara’s done when she turns away from Lena’s tearstained face. However, never one to disappoint, my wife isn’t quite finished yet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ~ Zara ~

  “How about you put that screaming kid on vibrate so we can all get some sleep?”

  – Zara’s plea to all parents

  It’s at this point that I’m able to say I kind of feel a little, teeny, tiny bit sorry for Lena. Not because she doesn’t deserve my wrath or everyone else’s for that matter, she most definitely does. Instead, in the last few minutes, while I stare down at her crying on the floor, she looks every bit the pathetic, broken woman I already knew her to be.

  That said, the pity I feel for her isn’t enough to stop me doing what I should have done months, if not, years ago.


  “You had it all, Lena. A beautiful home, good job, friends who care about you, family, and husband that proved he loved you every single day. In spite of the hell you went through, and how you pushed him away, Knight kept coming back for more. He put everything else aside to support you; his business, friends, and his brother because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

  “I know,” she whimpers pitifully, clutching her injured hand to her chest. “You don’t have to tell me because it’s nothing I don’t already know. I know what I lost when Knight left me.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” I fire back. This woman is seriously fucking deluded if that’s how she views her marriage breakdown.

  A gentle hand on my arm has me turning to see Mia has come to stand beside me. With an encouraging nod, she lends me her silent support – something I hadn’t known I needed but truly appreciate. Mia had sensed my inner turmoil and growing anger over Lena’s treatment of everyone who stood by her in her time of need, but she also realized this needed to happen.

  My desire to try and right some of the wrongs, Lena wouldn’t have owned up to if it were left up to her is a driving force in why I can’t stop until she understands the enormity of what she’s done. But most of all, I desperately want to set Knight free.

 

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