Dragon's Lair

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Dragon's Lair Page 5

by Chantal Fernando


  “I went to Mum’s to visit, and I heard him telling her you were pregnant. I knew it was mine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then I came to find you.”

  “How did you find me?” I ask.

  “Tracker didn’t get his name for nothing,” he says, lips curving into a megawatt smile.

  We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, watching each other. “What are we doing here?”

  “You’re going to study and relax, and I’m going to take care of you,” he says, piercing blue eyes never leaving me.

  Take care of me, how exactly?

  Because I could use some taking care of right now.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me in question.

  “Oh, you know. The usual things,” I reply. “So how did you find yourself in an MC?”

  “Sometimes you need to make your own family,” is all he says.

  It’s all he needs to say, because I get it.

  “Maybe I could do that,” I say, lifting the second piece of toast to my mouth. I don’t have my parents anymore. I don’t have Eric—who has been in my life a very long time. I have some cousins and family in Melbourne, but that’s about it. It would be nice to have people in my life I can rely on. People who can be there for me, and vice versa.

  I wouldn’t take that for granted.

  “You already are babe,” Dex replies in a gentle tone. “You aren’t getting rid of me so easily.”

  “Who would have thought we’d be here right now?” I say, lip quirking.

  “Not me, that’s for sure,” Dex says. “But I don’t regret it. Any of it.”

  Well that’s nice.

  Really nice.

  “Thanks for strawbmaking me come here Dex. It’s a lot better than what I would be doing right now, living in a shitty motel and working my ass off to make ends meet,” I admit, letting the expression on my face show him that I was indeed grateful. I might not understand the appeal of an MC lifestyle, but I knew I had it better here than I would on my own.

  I felt safe.

  I didn’t have to work, instead I could continue my studies, giving me a more promising future.

  I appreciated it more than I could express.

  “You’re welcome babe. You know you’re stubborn as shit though, yeah?” he says, shaking his head at me, something like admiration shining in his eyes.

  I gape. “I’m stubborn? You’re a brute!”

  He grins. “I gotta head out. Will you be alright hanging out here?”

  “Who will be here?” I ask, not really wanting him to leave.

  “People come and go babe, there’s always someone around. No one will hurt you, don’t worry about that, okay?” he says gently. “Just mind your business and try to stay out of trouble. I’ll bring you lunch on my way back.”

  “Okay,” I reply. This is my life now, and I have to get used to it.

  No hiding behind Dex.

  I could do this.

  Dex showers and dresses in jeans, a black top, and a leather jacket. Unable to keep my eyes off him, I realize that I like him.

  Maybe even more than like him.

  I didn’t know if that was good or bad, but I guess I was going to find out.

  Chapter Seven

  “You must be Faye,” a gorgeous looking redhead says to me the next morning. Dressed in figure hugging jeans and a white tank top, she looks a hell of a lot better than I do in the morning.

  “That would be me,” I say, smiling at her.

  “Jessica,” she says. “You want to help cook breakfast?”

  Not really, but I couldn’t exactly say that. “Sure. Where’s Dex?”

  “Sin? He went out with the guys. Club business,” she says, shrugging like it’s irrelevant. I woke up alone this morning, and I didn’t like it. I had a shower and awkwardly walked out of the room, not knowing exactly what I was going to find or what I was meant to do. “He told me to get you fed and keep an eye on you. I’m Trace’s old lady.”

  Trace? I haven’t met a Trace yet. I tell her as much.

  “He will be around this evening,” she says. I smile and help her fry bacon and eggs, until the smell begins to be too much. I then spend the next twenty minutes throwing up. I clean myself up and head back out into the kitchen. Several women sit there chatting and eating. A few of them smile at me and a few of them don’t. I ignore the ones giving me evil looks and sit next to Jessica.

  “How are you feeling?” she asks knowingly.

  “A bit better now,” I say, serving some toast and eggs for myself.

  I’ve taken a few bites when one of the women starts talking to me. “So you’re the one then…”

  “What?” I ask, putting down my piece of bread and staring at the blonde.

  “The one who got pregnant on purpose to try and keep Sin,” she says, sneering at me. Wait, what?

  “Right, because that was my dream in life,” I say sarcastically. “Screw going to uni and becoming a lawyer. My real dream was to get pregnant at the tender age of twenty and get kicked out of my house with nowhere to go. You’re really smart, you know that?” I tell her, turning away from her red face when I’m done.

  The women are silent for a second before they burst into laughter.

  “She told you Allie,” one guffaws, earning more laughter from the rest of them.

  “Whatever bitch,” she taunts. “Sin will come back to me, he always does.”

  “I’m sure it’s for your charming personality,” I add, keeping my tone even.

  “He’ll still be fucking me whether you’re pregnant or not,” she adds with an evil smile.

  “Are you a club whore?” I ask with a smirk.

  “You f—”

  “Allie, stop,” Jessica snaps, slamming her plate down.

  Allie shoots me a look but doesn’t comment further.

  I try not to let her comments get to me. Sin can be with whoever he wants. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. We had sex, and I got knocked up. Not exactly the best grounds for starting a relationship. The best I can hope for is mutual respect and friendship. Who the hell am I trying to kid here? I want him.

  The women stare at me with a new light. It may even be respect I see in their eyes. Yeah—I’ve read a biker book or two in my day. I know how this all works. They are like a pack of wolves. They sense weakness. I need to show them that I’m not a pushover.

  “Do you want help cleaning up?” I ask Jessica, ignoring a fuming Allie.

  Jessica grins. “We cooked, they can clean.”

  That sounds good to me.

  “I have to get to work,” she says. “Do you have Sin’s number?”

  I shake my head, a little embarrassed that I don’t.

  She walks to the kitchen, digs in a drawer, and pulls out a pen and paper. Scribbling down his number, she hands it to me. “Call him if you need anything.”

  “Where do you work?” I ask curiously.

  “I own a beauty shop. You should come by sometime, I’d love to get my hands on your auburn locks,” she says, staring at my hair. “Maybe we could go a little darker even.”

  “You aren’t touching her hair Jess,” Dex says as he walks in. His eyes find mine and roam over me, softening fractionally. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I reply, unable to tear away my gaze.

  “Fine,” Jess says, grumbling, not even bothering to put up a fight.

  “Hey Sin,” Allie purrs, sliding up next to him.

  “Hey sugar,” he replies, turning his head to look at her for a second before returning to me. “Come on, time to meet Prez.”

  How come I didn’t get a ‘Hey sugar’? I’m the baby mama!

  I fume silently. If Dex is going to parade women in front of me, I don’t know how I can stay here. We never spoke about us being together, but I did only just get here. I guess I had kind of hoped… but he didn’t really promise me anything. I now feel like a first class idiot, making something out of nothi
ng. Maybe he just wants me here because of the baby. Not because he feels anything for me besides obligation.

  Rake walks into the kitchen with Irish and an older man I haven’t met before. Dex takes me by the arm and pulls me into our room.

  “You alright?” he asks when the door is closed.

  “I’m fine, I woke up alone, cooked, threw up, and got stared at all morning.”

  He stares at me. “You were sick again?”

  “Yeah but I’m fine,” I tell him, shrugging off his concern. “What am I meant to do all day while you’re out playing criminal?”

  He ignores my comment and gestures to his desktop. “I bought you a new laptop. Enroll for your online units and buy your textbooks.” He pulls out a credit card and hands it to me. “For whatever expenses.”

  “What’s the limit on this?” I’m unable to stop myself from asking.

  His lip twitches. “Ten grand.”

  I sigh heavily. “I guess that will do.”

  Now he laughs at me.

  “Don’t laugh! Since I apparently got pregnant on purpose to keep you, because you know, you’re such a catch. At least you come with a credit card though,” I joke.

  I watch as the smile drops from his face. “What did you say?”

  I blink. “I don’t remember.”

  “Who said that about you Faye?” he demands, his playful demeanor gone.

  I smirk. “Someone in the house you’ve slept with.”

  I watch his face go blank. Jeez how many of the women has he slept with? I tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you will be able to figure it out. I suggest doing a chart or a graph.”

  “Fuck, you’re a pain in the ass. How did Eric handle you?” he says on a sigh.

  “He didn’t,” I say, smirking once more.

  “I’ll bet he didn’t,” he growls, his gaze lowering to my lips.

  “How many men have you slept with?” he asks, taking a step closer to me, invading my personal space.

  “What a rude question,” I muse. I’m pretty sure that’s not something you go around asking people.

  “How many, Faye?”

  I count all my ten fingers. “Well that was just this year…”

  “Faye…”

  “Two, including you. How many women have you slept with?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at him. “Do you need a calculator?”

  “Eric is a boy. I said men,” he replies, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “I guess only you then,” I whisper, caught up in his gaze.

  He smiles, showing his straight white teeth. “I like that.” It doesn’t escape my attention that he ignored my question, but I don’t push. I know I wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Of course you would,” I mutter to myself.

  “It means that you’re mine now,” he whispers, then looks away. I think I hear him mutter the word ‘soon.’

  “Come on, we gotta go meet the boss,” he says, taking my hand in his. He leads me down the hall and knocks on a door.

  “Come in!” a rough voice yells. We walk into an office. Well I think it’s an office. It has a huge table and a cabinet in it, and another door. A man who looks to be in his forties, with salt and pepper hair and a beard, sits at a table. He looks fit, no beer belly for this man. He looks up at me and scowls.

  “What did I do?” I ask, unable to help myself. He has a grumpy face but kind eyes.

  Dex squeezes my hand, as in—shut up Faye.

  “Jim this is Faye. Faye this is Jim, our president. You will show him respect,” he says, warning in his tone. I stare at the man’s leather vest with the word ‘president’ written on there.

  “Hi,” I say carefully, not knowing what he wanted to see me about.

  He leans back in his huge black chair and studies me. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  I swallow. The man is intense. “Because Dex feels sorry for me?”

  “Because Sin is a good man, and you’re carrying his baby. I hope you’re a good woman. Sin says we can trust you, and as my vice president, I trust him.”

  I nod at the club president. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

  I knew Dex was the VP because Eric told me, but also because it says so on his vest.

  I turn to him. “VP is impressive by the way.”

  A dimple appears. “Glad you approve.”

  “I trust you know your place here?” Jim asks, staring me down.

  I nod sagely. “Yes sir. I won’t even tell anyone about the orgies you guys have.”

  Jim turns a weary look to Dex who sighs. “I’ll handle her don’t worry.”

  “You damn well better,” Jim says, having a silent conversation with Dex with his eyes.

  Dex nods back at him. “Understood.”

  Jim looks back at me. “Help out when you can and keep your mouth shut about anything you hear or see.”

  I nod, internally fuming at being treated like lesser human being. Fucking bikers.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I ask Jim, pasting a smile on my face. “How come everyone has a nickname but you go by Jim. Can I give you a name suggestion?”

  A few come to mind.

  He shakes his head at me, but I don’t miss the amused look that flashes on his features. “Goodbye Faye.”

  Dex grabs me and leads me out. I grin. “I like him.”

  I watch as Dex palms his face.

  Chapter Eight

  I spend the rest of the day enrolling in uni, ordering textbooks, and making plans. When dinner time comes around, I head out in search of food.

  “Hello,” I say to Mary, one of the girls I’d met this morning.

  “Hey Faye,” she replies, smiling sweetly. “Dinner is almost ready.”

  “Where is everyone?” I ask her. I haven’t seen Dex since he brought me lunch at around one o’clock.

  “The women are around somewhere, I don’t know about the men,” she replies, shrugging slightly. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay,” I say, gently tapping my stomach. “Does everyone live here?” I ask, gesturing to the clubhouse.

  “Everyone has a room here, but they don’t all live here. They crash here whenever they feel like it,” she replies, stirring the pasta she made.

  “What about you?” I ask, taking a seat.

  “I don’t live here, I just come by most days. I’m kind of seeing Arrow,” she explains. I want to ask what ‘kind of’ seeing means, but I don’t. Jessica, Allie, and another girl named Jayla walk into the kitchen.

  “Hey girls,” Jessica calls out as she sees us. Allie rolls her eyes, and Jayla says nothing. Mary gives me a knowing smile. She is really beautiful, with dark hair and clear green eyes. Arrow is a lucky man that’s for sure. My phone vibrates, another message from Eric. I really think I need to change my number.

  The men pour in, and I find myself wedged between Dex and Rake.

  Not the worst place to be.

  “You okay?” Dex asks, his eyes softening when they land on me.

  I nod. “I’m fine.”

  “You smell good,” Rake says, leaning in closer, invading my personal space.

  I smell him in return. “You smell like sex, cigarettes, and leather.”

  His lips curve slowly. “I had a busy day.”

  “I can see that,” I reply through laughter, taking a bite of my pasta. Mary is a good cook too, Arrow needs to wife her, pronto.

  “How was your day Dex?” I ask him, speaking softly so not everyone can hear.

  He gently nudges me with his shoulder. “Busy.”

  “What did you do?” I ask, knowing I was pushing it a little.

  “Worked,” he replies, taking a bite of his food.

  “Where do you work?” I ask.

  He puts his fork down. “I’m a bike mechanic.”

  I lean in closer to him. “Is that what you tell people?” I mock-whisper.

  Rake laughs, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. Dex’s lips tighten as he glares a
t Rake’s hand. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow to slits. I stare at him, watching us, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t. So he doesn’t care if another man touches me? I grit my teeth and smile at Rake, then concentrate on my food. Why does he want me here when he doesn’t want me? Oh right, his son or daughter. He or she is probably going to come out dressed in leather. I glance up in time to see Allie smirk at me. Smug bitch. I ignore her and everyone else, including Rake and his roaming hands, then rinse and put my bowl and fork in the dishwasher. After that I grab some juice and head back to my room. Trying not to feel sorry for myself, I watch my favourite movie on my laptop. Mario Casas always makes me feel better.

  When Dex hasn’t returned to the room two hours later, I feel the loneliest I’ve felt in my life. I even consider messaging Eric back. How desperate am I? I take a quick shower and dress in the oversized shirt I sleep in. It belonged to Eric, but that’s not why it’s my favourite. It’s soft, falls just to my knees, and is my favourite shade of blue. I stick my head out of the door and look around. I know everyone must be in the games room. It’s a vast space with a pool table, darts, and huge comfy couches. I walk towards the noise, coming to a standstill when I see Dex. He’s in the corner of the living room, Allie pressed tightly against him. She leans in to kiss him, and I look away.

  He’s not mine.

  I need to remind myself that. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my anything, other than my child’s father. I run my hands along my stomach. I ignore the pain, the hurt that I’m feeling, and walk towards the kitchen. I’m getting some warm milk and then going to bed. Today needs to be over already. On my way to the fridge I bump face first into a hard chest. A very hard chest.

  “Sorry,” I mumble into someone’s shirt.

  A deep chuckle. “I definitely like these pajamas better.”

  “Tracker,” I gasp, looking up into his handsome face.

  “How are you doing beautiful?” he asks, dark eyes gazing into mine.

  “I’ve been better,” I say honestly, forcing a smile. “I’m going to get some milk and go to bed.”

 

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