Devil's Claim: Apaches MC

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Devil's Claim: Apaches MC Page 36

by Claire St. Rose


  “Straight to business I see.” Luke’s voice vibrated against Shayla’s throat, causing her to tingle throughout her whole body. It was going to be hard to leave him, but she wanted to have all the pieces in place so she could start filming as soon as possible. Maybe she’d even have something for this evening’s news if she hopped to it fast enough.

  Shayla turned and faced Luke, her nose less than an inch away from his. She could feel his breath brushing over her lips, and he stared down at her, his eyes pools of moss and a tired lust.

  “I’ll see you very soon, Luke Cinder.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll be seeing a lot of you if this meeting goes over well.”

  He chuckled and slid her closer to him on the mattress, pressing her breasts flat against his chest. “You don’t have to have a camera crew to see lots more of me,” he said. “All you have to do is ask nicely.”

  Disentangling herself was going to be more difficult than she had thought. He was so ready to go at all times. She could feel him pressing against her under the sheets, and was tempted to stay.

  But no, if she stayed then she’d never end up back home. She’d be lost here forever. Which wouldn’t be too horrible of a fate, except it wouldn’t help her career any.

  “I’m getting up now, Luke,” she said sternly, inching away. He let her go, surprisingly. His eyes stayed locked on her the entire time she dressed, making no move to do the same. Her eyes, on the other hand, kept glancing back to the red stains all over his knuckles.

  What the hell had happened to him in the night?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Luke saw the question in Shayla’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what held her back from just asking it, but he wasn’t about to volunteer the information anyway. Some things were better left under wraps until they had been properly dealt with. The reason his hand hurt like a son of a bitch was no different.

  The bed was luxurious compared to his own. Luke had plenty of money, but most of it got put back into his business or his bike. He had never seen the need for luxury items like fancy beds or toaster ovens, but now he was beginning to think that maybe it was time for him to spend a chunk of change on a new mattress. Maybe he just loved this mattress so much because it was the one he finally bedded Shayla on. The one he had held Shayla on while they slept. It was still warm from where she had lain. Luke didn’t want to ever have to go to sleep again without her. In such a short period of time, Shayla had gone from being a hot girl he saw on TV to the woman at the forefront of his mind at all times. Was that normal?

  “I’ll call you later,” Shayla said, running her fingers through her messy hair.

  Luke smiled, remembering how it had felt in his hand as he came, holding on for dear life. “You better.”

  She gave him one final smile and left, and Luke sighed and collapsed back onto the bed. He could feel where there were bruises forming on his ribs, but luckily his tattoos covered them. His cheek was a little sore, but it didn’t seem like it was going to bruise. He would kill Dax and Klyde the next time they picked a fight with him.

  He might have tonight, if Raven hadn’t been there.

  How the hell had they found him at a hotel in the middle of the night? And why? Since his marriage, he’d fucked dozens of girls. Raven hadn’t been on the welcoming committee for each new set of legs that waltzed into his life, but she hadn’t interfered either. And now she was putting her foot down? It was bullshit, plain and simple.

  He wanted to think that it was all Dax and Klyde’s idea—that’d they’d put all this shit about him owning her his body and soul—but that wasn’t likely. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she’d done little else but annoy the hell out of him since the moment they met. Maybe it was some sort of back of the head notion that he did owe her something.

  But he didn’t.

  Luke had done far more for the sake of their “marriage” than she ever had. He’d spared her brothers a beating more times than he could count, first of all—especially the youngest. Those three shitheads were always up to something. But because of their powerful daddy nobody had ever stepped up against them in their own gang—which more often than not left someone from the Trojans having to play judge and jury. And every damn time, Luke had let them walk away basically unscathed. Because of the treaty between their clubs, and because of his bogus feelings of affinity with Raven.

  That crazy bitch.

  After Dax and Klyde had waved him down, Luke had considered not going. It wasn’t like they could come up and get him. The hotel was pretty nice, and he laughed when he realized they were probably too afraid to come inside for fear of someone calling the cops.

  But Luke had a sense of honor. He knew that he had to go down there and talk to them, or fight with them, whichever it was that they wanted.

  He hadn’t expected Raven to be there.

  She had looked like pure fury when he came out into the parking lot. Her hair, blacker than the sky outside, was wild and curly around her face. Her eyes were dark, but he could see that they locked onto him right away.

  “You’re mine.” Those were the first two words out of her mouth. Even before Luke had a chance to assess the situation, she had spewed her false claim of ownership into the night air. And it had made him made.

  “I haven’t been yours since the day we agreed that we weren’t doing things that way,” Luke countered, bristling as Dax and Klyde approached him from the side. “Why you think that’s going to change now is beyond me.”

  Raven stalked up to him, standing so close he could smell the cloying scent of her perfume. She’d always worn this horrible flowery bouquet that she claimed was the best smelling perfume in the world.

  “I’m your wife.”

  “And that hasn’t stopped you fucking half the guys in your dad’s club.”

  Luke had been too focused on not dropping eye contact with Raven. As soon as the words left his mouth, there was a crushing blow to his ribs from Dax. Luke staggered back and then keeled forward, putting all his weight into a punch that sent Dax flying.

  Klyde came at him next. He was less of a sloppy fighter than his brother, and he managed to graze his fist against Luke’s cheekbone just as Luke tried to dodge. Luke came back on the upswing, getting Klyde in the gut just as hard as Dax had got him in the ribs. Klyde doubled over and heaved.

  Luke turned his attention back to Raven, whose face had screwed up into a snarl.

  “You go upstairs and break up with that girl right now,” she commanded lowly.

  Luke laughed, even though it caused his ribs to ache. “I’m definitely not going to do that.”

  Raven huffed. “Well then we’ll hurt her.”

  Luke looked behind him at her brothers. Dax had staggered up from the ground, and was patting Klyde on the back. Luke couldn’t tell whether Klyde was going to vomit or not. Klyde probably couldn’t tell either.

  “You won’t even get close to her,” Luke snarled. “And if you touch her, I guarantee you I’ll do double to you.”

  Raven stepped close to him, and Luke had to resist the urge to flinch back. This was all a mind game, and he was intent on winning that as well as the physical contest.

  “Baby, you haven’t touched me in so long,” Raven purred, staring up at him through her lashes with mock innocence. “Maybe I’ll have to do something to her just to get your hands on me again. I’ve missed them so much.”

  Luke wasn’t distracted this time, much as Raven had tried. The approaching footsteps on the concrete gave Dax and Klyde away before they’d even balled their fists. He ducked down and spun, coming up with two fists under each of their chins. He hated Dax the most, so he followed his uppercut with a punch to the nose. There was a sickening cracking noise, and Luke smiled as Dax’s nose began a torrent of blood onto the pavement. Klyde was still recovering from the hit to the jaw. He’d never been able to take a hit. He would never have made it so far in the Reapers hierarchy if his dad hadn’t cut c
orners for him. Luke longed to make him regret it. He swung out his right fist then his left, landing blows on the stumbling man's face and stomach.

  Luke turned back to Raven before Dax even hit the ground. He panted from exertion, his eyes red with rage. There was a faint flicker of fear in her eyes, but he sensed he would have to do much more if he wanted her to leave him alone.

  “I’m getting a divorce, Raven.” He spat on the ground at her feet. “Expect to receive the papers soon.”

  With that he turned away, kneeing away the prone figures of Dax and Klyde as he made his way back to the doors of the hotel. The thought of any of them doing anything to Shayla drove him mad. He needed to separate himself from Raven, and quick. Who knew how much crazier she would get over time?

  Though his body ached, crawling back into bed with Shayla, and having her ride him into oblivion, was the sweetest reward he’d ever tasted. She drove him wild with passionate longing every second that he wasn’t there. He wanted this news story to work for her. He wanted her to succeed, and for her to look on him as one of the aids of her success.

  He wanted her for life.

  Now, alone and wrapped in white sheets that were both cool and comforting, Luke reached across to the bedside table, where he’d left his phone. It was late enough now to make the call that he’d been planning ever since he decided to make Shayla this offer. He had a surprise for her, and for the news story.

  Smiling to himself, Luke dialed the number. He couldn’t wait to start.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You seem awfully chipper this morning,” commented Derek Green.

  Shayla smiled; he had no idea.

  She’d driven home, had another shower, and changed into her most professional, go-getter outfit. Then, after fussing over herself in the mirror for a few minutes, Shayla had straightened her spine and driven over to the station. There was a different receptionist there during the days. Shayla hadn’t seen her for so long that she’d forgotten her name. After spending her entire interaction with the receptionist trying to spy the older woman’s name tag, Shayla had been told that Mr. Green and Mr. Putnam would come fetch her soon.

  Shayla was excited. She had a great story to pitch to them, and she knew they would love it. Whether the rest of the ten o’clock news team would be on board was another matter entirely, but for now all Shayla cared about was the fact that she was going to be vaulted straight to the top of her boss’ favor.

  Putnam and Green stepped into the lobby to meet Shayla only a few moments later. She was glad that they hadn’t had busier mornings booked, since waiting in the lobby made her feel like a client. It wasn’t a feeling she adored. But what else could she do—go squat in her intern’s desk while she waited for them to come fetch her? There was likely another intern occupying it at the moment. If Putnam and Greene liked her pitch, would she get a new desk? Maybe an office all to her own? Or, at least, one that she could share with one of the daytime employees. Basically anything other than that cramped hovel in the corner of the newsroom.

  That was when Green commented on Shayla’s enthusiastic appearance. And he was spot on.

  “I have exciting news,” Shayla replied. “What’s not to be chipper about?”

  Derek smiled at her and gestured for her to go through the doorway. “I’m sure you know the way to the conference room.”

  It seemed to be the only room things actually got done in. Shayla led the way, noting how different the office area looked during the day. There were people in the offices, first of all. Second, it seemed less cramped for some reason, which was odd considering there were more people. It was bright, and she was surrounded by the chatter of people talking on the phones and to each other, and the ringing of phones all over the place.

  Shayla had to suppress a scowl of jealousy. Things seemed much happier there during the daytime.

  They entered the conference room and Shayla took a seat at the end of the table. Putnam and Green followed behind. Putnam closed the door after he came in, and then he and his companion sat down opposite each other and faced Shayla. They were an odd pair. Like twins, they seemed to do everything together. Unlike twins, they seemed like individuals who were worlds apart.

  “So what’s this news,” prompted Derek.

  Shayla sat up in her chair and plastered on a smile. “Do you remember Luke Cinder?”

  “Not the goddamn kitten story again,” said Mr. Putnam with a frown. “I don’t want to hear any more about that.”

  Shayla shook her head emphatically. “No! This isn’t about the kitten. This is about gang life in Templeton.”

  The two men leaned closer in their chairs, which Shayla took as her cue to continue.

  “He’s agreed to give us an exclusive peek into the day to day running of his club. We have unlimited access for a week.”

  Putnam pursed his lips in thought. “What’s the catch? What does he want in return?”

  Shayla shook her head. “Nothing. He’s just doing it as a favor.”

  “Nothing comes for free,” agreed Derek.

  Shayla felt heat rise up her face. How could she tell them that she’d already paid for Luke’s involvement? With her body, no less.

  “Uh. Well, he and I have become friends. He thought it would be a good way to defuse a lot of the anxiety going on since the Holly Masterson overdose.”

  Both men nodded thoughtfully. “They think she’s going to pull through, but there has certainly been a rise of tensions between the average Templetonian and the bikers,” said Green. “I think this is a great idea.”

  “I’ll stamp it too,” said Putnam. “I’ll leave the production details up to your team.”

  Her team? “Do you mean Amy?”

  “And Anthony, of course.”

  Shayla already felt irritated, and Putnam had only just said Anthony’s name. She hadn’t counted on him being involved in this story, but it made sense. She’d be damned before she felt excited about that particular piece though.

  “Thank you for your time,” Shayla said. “I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the segments as they air.”

  “And we look forward to seeing if this helps our numbers,” said Putnam with a smile. He rose and extended his hand to Shayla. She stood and took it, giving it a firm shake and then turning to Derek to do the same.

  “I won’t let you down.”

  She wasn’t sure why she snuck that particular nugget in there, but it felt right at the time. This was more about not letting herself down. If she screwed this up, who cared about the station’s numbers? This was her biggest career opportunity yet. That and that alone would drive her forward.

  Shayla left the station feeling an airy sense of glee. She wanted to jump in the air at the prospect of finally heading in the direction she’d been trying to go for years, and getting to spend more time with Luke on the station’s dime. That was a win-win if she’d ever seen one.

  Now all she had to do was explain the situation to Amy and Anthony and make sure they were on board too. She had a feeling that wouldn’t be as easy. Luckily she had a few hours to prepare her pitch, since neither of them would be at the station until later that day. Feeling pretty sleepy and definitely exhausted, Shayla drove home and crawled into her bed. The cool sheets wrapped around her almost as lovingly as Luke’s arms, and in only a few minutes she was out like a light.

  ***

  “This is a horrible idea!” Anthony’s face had taken on an expression of disgust, and his eyes shot right through Shayla. “You want us to romanticize gang violence? These guys are thugs.”

  “Some of them are thugs,” Shayla conceded. “But Luke’s not one of them. Neither are any of his guys.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re sweet on him.”

  Shayla looked over at Amy for support, who had been sitting at her end of the conference table looking pensive. It took everything in her not to reach down the table and smack Anthony upside the head for talking to her like that, but she knew she
’d have to be diplomatic if she wanted to get him on her side. That meant not attacking him for every asshole thing he said.

  Amy sat forward in her chair. “I think that if it’s what Mr. Putnam and Mr. Green want, there’s not much we can do about it.”

  That was hardly the answer Shayla had been looking for.

  “That being said,” Amy continued. “I also think that it’s a great idea, if played correctly. Anthony’s right that it could be taken as romanticizing gang violence, but we also have to remember that edgy content brings in viewers.”

  There it was! Shayla breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that she would have to fight both of them tooth and nail. She vowed to give Any more of a break for her incompetence in the future. Maybe not all of it, but some of it.

 

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