CORRUPTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

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CORRUPTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 32

by Mia Miles


  Was I doing the right thing by trying to help her? Or was I wasting my time with someone who was allowing her life to make her cold and cynical? She definitely seemed to be leaning that direction. I hoped some good news would turn her around.

  “Hey, babe!” I called out to her when I walked into the house. I didn’t get a response, but then I saw her sitting on the patio by the pool.

  I opened the glass door and stepped outside. I walked around to where she sat in the lounge chair and was surprised to see her sitting there naked. I was speechless. The reserved little girl who had come into my office was sitting on my patio naked, baring all to the sky and the sun.

  Her body was even more gorgeous in the light. All of her curves and proportions were perfect. Her skin was beautifully fair, but probably not for long if she stayed in the sun too long.

  “Oh hey,” she said when she saw me walk up, grabbing for her towel out of habit. She covered herself and blushed. I couldn’t tell if she was blushing because I’d walked in on her naked or because she’d reacted in her old, bashful manner.

  “I’ve got good news,” I told her.

  “What kind of news?” she asked, shooting me a suspicious look.

  “My brother might have a job for you in his office. He runs a construction company and always needs help around the office. He said to bring you by this afternoon,” I told her.

  “Really?” She sat up on her elbows and looked at me, a smile spreading across her face, despite the way she’d been acting earlier in the day.

  “Really. You’ll just be doing office work,” I told her.

  “Is he a member of the MC, too?” she asked me slowly, cautiously, feeling out the question as she said it.

  “Yes, he is a Renegade Lion like I am,” I told her. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  She sighed. “I guess it can’t be. I’ve just got to get used to that being part of my life for as long as I’m around you guys, huh?”

  “Yes. That’s who and what we are, Missy. Don’t worry. It means you’re safe, no matter what happens, no matter who gets pissed off at any of us for any reason,” I assured her.

  “Well, I don’t like the way that sounds.” She raised an eyebrow.

  “It means you’re okay. And if you go to stay at the clubhouse on the outskirts of town, you’ll have people there to help you as your pregnancy moves long,” I told her yet again.

  “I know, but it just seems like so much. I mean, when will I get to see you?” she asked me.

  “You can stay here every night. I still want you in my bed.”

  “You still want to fuck me.” That eyebrow was up again.

  I laughed, and I felt like I was blushing. What the hell was this woman doing to me? Zach “Cutter” Holmes did not blush. It just didn’t happen.

  “It sounds too complicated, Cutter,” she said. “I’d rather just stay here.”

  “We’ll make it work, baby,” I assured her.

  She sighed again and shook her head. “Thank you, Cutter.” She got up and kissed me slowly, tenderly. She let her towel fall as she raised her arms to wrap them around my neck.

  I put my hands on her smooth back and held her to me while we kissed by my pool. I felt like things were starting to move along nicely.

  Chapter Twelve

  Missy

  Since everything I had still fit in my backpack, Cutter drove me over to the Renegade Lions’ clubhouse on the back of his Harley. I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, and I didn’t know much about them beyond the fact that they were loud and most of the guys who rode them were roughnecks like Cutter and the rest of the Renegade Lions. It was quite an experience.

  With my pack slung over my shoulders and my arms around his waist, we left his house and drove just out of town to the warehouse. As we pulled in, the doors went up, and several guys stepped outside to greet us. One of them had long straight brown hair held back by a black bandana. The other had short salt-and-pepper curls and ratty face hair. Both men wore black leather vests similar to Cutter’s with white t-shirts underneath, worn jeans, and old black boots.

  Cutter pulled the bike into one of the bays, and the guys followed behind us, rolling the large doors back down. We got of the bike, and Cutter embraced his club mates one at a time. It was like watching a family reunion.

  “So, is this the girl?” the older of the two asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I was obviously under scrutiny, and he’d obviously been expecting me.

  “Yeah, Ren, this is Missy.” Cutter stepped over to me and put a protective arm across my shoulders, for which I was incredibly thankful.

  “Well, introduce us, bro,” the long-haired younger member demanded.

  “Missy, these are my brothers Renegade, our president, and his son Blades, our VP,” Cutter said, pointing first to the older gentleman and then to the younger one.

  As Renegade took my hand, he flashed a knowing smile. Reading the look on my face, he assured me, “We’re not really brothers, Missy. That’s just what we call each other.”

  I laughed nervously. “I knew that.”

  “Sure you did,” Blades joked, keeping an eye on me from a distance. Renegade glanced back at him and he walked away, looking like he suddenly realized there was something else he was supposed to be doing.

  “We have a room ready for you upstairs,” the president said, tossing the room key to Cutter.

  “It has its own lock?” I asked, watching the key soar to Cutter’s hands. The question came out as a reflex. I realized how rude it must have sounded as soon as I said it.

  “Of course. We want you to have some privacy if you’re staying here. Every room has its own lock, but I have a master key that can open every door in the clubhouse,” he answered. Then, he quickly added with a wink, “Don’t worry. I’m the only one who has it. It’s good have you aboard, Missy. If you need anything, someone’s always down here.”

  The rest of the first floor contained an office with a boardroom for meetings and official club business, as well as a large gathering area with pool tables, dart boards, a large flat screen TV, and black leather couches for sitting. But Cutter whisked me upstairs to where the private rooms were. It felt like we were in a hotel. We walked onto a hallway lined with doors on both sides. Each door was closed and had a number on it with a peep hole and everything.

  “You’ll have your own bathroom and closet,” Cutter explained as we walked down the hallway. “But, there’s just the one small kitchen downstairs. There’s always someone here grilling out back or cooking for everyone in the kitchen, so you don’t have to worry about food.”

  It was all happening so quickly. Everything had been happening quickly since I found out about the baby. I felt like I didn’t have any say in anything that happened to me. Surely, anyone would have said I was free to opt out of being given a place to stay for free where people were going to be looking out for me.

  I didn’t feel free, though. Those weren’t real decisions because I wasn’t in a position to turn anything down. I should have been more grateful. I should have had gratitude and love gushing out of me, but I still had pride, and it ate at me, keeping me from properly appreciating everything that Cutter was doing for me.

  I wasn’t going to be living on the street, fighting for a little food. But I wasn’t providing food and shelter for myself. And, to top it off, the people who were providing it for me were bikers. They were rough men whose hard lives were written in the ink across their skin and the scars on their faces. I had no business being in their company.

  “So, tell me a little about the guys downstairs,” I said to Cutter before he left me alone in my room. I was incredibly nervous to be left alone with more men like him. There were no women around to protect me from their stares, or worse.

  “Ren has been the president of the MC since day one. He started the Renegade Lions. That’s why he shares the name, Renegade. He’s alright. You don’t have to worry about him. His son, Blades, is the VP because our original vice pre
sident was murdered in prison,” he explained.

  “In prison, Cutter?” I exclaimed. “What the hell do you have me mixed up in?”

  “It was just some trumped up conspiracy charges from a fight we were involved in with a politician’s kid at a bar. In reality, it was just a bunch of drunks running their mouths, and our old VP slammed a bottle into the punk’s face. He should have maybe spent a night in the drunk tank, maybe an assault charge or something simple like that,” he continued, making it worse.

  “Something simple, yeah,” I said, mocking him.

  “Hey, you’re fine. They’re going to treat you like one of us. Jay will be by in the morning to pick you up for work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow night after your first day. Look, if anything comes up, give me a call on this.” He produced a small cell phone from inside his vest.

  “What’s this?” I asked. I knew it was a cell phone, but I wanted to know if there were any strings attached before I accepted it.

  “It’s a burner phone,” he said. “You know what that is, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I had watched all those crime dramas on TV. I knew what burner phones were, and it didn’t surprise me that Cutter would have handed me an untraceable prepaid cell phone instead of a legitimate phone on a legitimate plan.

  I tapped the button on the side of the phone, and the screen came up. I was surprised to see that it had more functions than just calls and texts.

  “It’s got all of the important club numbers programmed into it, in case you need any of us,” he explained.

  I tapped on the contacts icon, and it pulled up a list of street names like Blades and Cutter. I scrolled down and found Renegade. Jay was in there, too, but there were also a bunch of names I didn’t recognize. I was sure I was going to meet them soon enough.

  “Why doesn’t Jay have a name in here like you and the others?” I asked him.

  “His real name is Jensen. We call him Jay because he really stays out of trouble. You’ll see when you meet him. He’s kind of everyone’s big brother,” he said, dismissing the topic, as if talking about Jay’s name made him uncomfortable.

  “So he’s not really your brother either,” I said.

  He laughed. “We’re all brothers, Missy, but don’t worry. You’ll meet my two younger brothers, who are actually my brothers by blood, soon enough if you’re hanging around here.”

  I shook my head. “Okay, so I just have to accept all of this. And the old ladies? Where are they?”

  “I’m surprised no one’s here. Usually, there are two or three old ladies hanging around the clubhouse at all times. I’m sure someone will show up before the day is over. And they’ll be anxious to meet you, so be available.” He put a gentle hand on my face and looked at me with his gray eyes. “Just keep an open mind, okay? You seem pretty open as it is. I know it’s a lot right now. You come from a very different world, but everyone here has your back. Remember that. I’ve got to go up to the office for a while.”

  We hugged and said our goodbyes. He handed me the key to the room and left, closing the door to leave me alone in my new, albeit temporary, home. I sat down on the full size mattress and looked around the room. There was an old window with four glass panes staring out onto the parking lot surrounding the building. I had a dresser with a mirror, a small TV stand with a small flat screen TV on top. The floor was hardwood, old and dirty. The bathroom was small with sterile white tile. It looked like a gas station restroom. There was one small round window over the tub that let in an impossible amount of natural light.

  I had to find a way out of this, I told myself. I couldn’t deal with another man controlling my life. I didn’t think Cutter was really trying to control me, but he had control over me either way. He was controlling where I slept, where I worked, what I did. Even with the new phone, even though it gave me the ability to connect with the world outside the clubhouse, it felt like I was expected only to contact him or his “brothers,” and only when necessary.

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself that no matter what, it was better than the alternative. I had to learn how to accept help and how to accept my new place in the world.

  I spent most of the afternoon in room, until a light knock came at the door. It was Renegade’s old lady, Lynn. She had wiry black hair pulled back in a ponytail, skin that had seen too much sun over the years and maintained an almost burnt tan all year. She wore a black leather vest that had a patch for her name and the Renegade Lions logo on the back. Under it, she wore a black bikini top and nothing else. She wore leather pants and black leather boots.

  She had a hard look on her face when she opened the door and introduced herself. Her voice had an edge to it, as if to say no matter how nice she was, she was never far from flipping it over and being a total bitch if she needed to be.

  I honestly felt safer having a woman as hard as the men around, but I didn’t know how to tell her that. It was one of those things I didn’t want to admit out loud because I knew it would reveal how new I was to everything and how weak I was.

  “Hey, have you eaten?” she’d asked abruptly before even making introductions.

  “No, not yet. Why?” I asked.

  “Dinner’s ready. Ren and Blades grilled some steaks. They made enough for you, too. Come on.” She’d walked away and left the door open for me to follow.

  Once I caught up to her, she told me who she was and that she was glad I was there. She said they’d picked up some other drinks since I was pregnant and didn’t need to be drinking with everyone.

  When I walked downstairs with Lynn, I realized more people had shown up. A lot more. The place was practically packed, and they were all eating. It felt like a family gathering, like any summer barbecue would have felt. I was beginning to realize why Cutter called all the guys in the club his brothers. They treated each other like brothers.

  I was shocked by how communal it all was. And despite myself, I felt welcomed by every person Lynn introduced me to. These people who looked fierce and mean to the outside world were warm and caring toward each other on the inside.

  I was lucky to have found Cutter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cutter

  “Cutter, we might have a problem.” It was Blades, and I could tell he was trying to keep anyone else from hearing what he had to tell me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. I got up and stepped into the hallway in front of my office to see if anyone was in earshot of the conversation. Then, I ducked back in and closed the door.

  “I just got a call from one of our guys on the street, who said there’s an older guy going around flashing a photo of someone who matches Missy’s description. He’s asking where she is,” Blades told me.

  “What did he tell her old man?” I asked him.

  “He said he told him he hadn’t seen her and to get lost.” He chuckled.

  “Good. We don’t need him sniffing around. Her father is bad news, Blades.” Having him sniffing around was bad news indeed. We didn’t need the extra attention, especially not from someone with as much power as Alec Jones was supposed to have. It was only a matter of time before he followed the trail of girls to the strip club and started asking questions.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Cutter. Make sure your girls know what to say if he shows up there.”

  “Got it.” I hated that Ren’s punk ass kid had more power in the MC than some of us who’d been riding for the Lions longer than he’d been alive. I tried to hide my resentment when I talked to him, but it didn’t always work out.

  “I’ll let everyone know to be on the lookout. If he gets too close, though, you know what will happen,” he said.

  I laughed. “Why are you telling me? You know how I feel about all that. He kicked her out of the house, man. He cut her off from her money, cut her phone, everything. He’s how she ended up here. Man, this isn’t her life, Blades, but it’s all she’s got. We can’t have him snooping around trying to take even this from her.”

  �
��Well, don’t worry about it, Cutter. He won’t find her, not if I have anything to do with it.”

  “Thanks. Keep me in the loop on it, though. If he comes around, I want to know,” I told him. I had a habit of talking to Blades like I was above him. I should have been. When Nomad got taken out in prison, everyone thought I was going to be Ren’s pick for VP. Even Blades had been shocked when I wasn’t.

  We had an understanding. He had authority over me, but he always tried to treat me with as much respect as possible. I was supposed to be in his place.

  “You got it, boss,” he said, joking with me to let me know I was starting to step over the line a little.

  I honestly didn’t care. When it came to Missy, I was the boss. I wasn’t going to accept any less than the utmost respect as it pertained to her.

 

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