by Gemma Weir
“You really think it’ll be easier to find me on the other side of the country than five miles from our house?” Angel asks sardonically.
Prez laughs. “Yes, Little Dove, I do. You said yourself that by the morning your dad will know you’re gone and start to look for you. He’ll report you missing and have every police department in the state on the lookout for you. But no one will ever think to look for you here. It’s the perfect hiding place.”
Angel falls back into her seat and seems to be lost in thought. After a few moments she lifts her head up to look at Prez and slowly nods. “Okay. Thank you. But once the exchange date has passed then I leave.”
Prez looks from Angel to me and back again, smiling widely. “Of course, Little Dove. Now Blade is gonna go fetch my old lady. She’s gonna take you back to Daisy’s room and have a look at your legs to make sure they’re not infected. She’ll stay with you until he comes back. You’re safe here, but don’t wander around on your own. Do you understand?”
Angel nods and Blade leaves without a word, returning a few moments later with Grits following behind him. The prez’s old lady smiles kindly at Angel. “Come on then, sweetie.”
Angel looks at me and when I nod reassuringly, she stands up and follows Grits out of the office. When the door closes behind her, I pull in a deep breath and wait. Prez is silently assessing me, but I can feel Blade’s gaze on me as well. His intense eyes lock with mine and he stares at me for a moment, then nods and turns his attention to Prez.
“Do you believe her?” Blade says gruffly.
“Yes,” Prez replies.
I let out a ragged breath. I’d hoped that Prez wouldn’t question Angel’s sincerity, but I’d feared he might. Because women like Angel aren’t real—she’s too beautiful, too innocent and too sweet. It’s almost easier to believe she’s fake because in this life no-one is that guileless. Except her.
“She could have cried and whined about the hand life has dealt her, but she hasn’t; she’s still fighting. I genuinely think she’d be happy if we dropped her off at the bus station. She doesn’t want our help. She might be starting to see that she needs it, but she’d be just as happy with a ride. Plus, she’s not an actress. I’ve met a lot of manipulative women in my life and Dove isn’t one of them. She’s just a frightened teenager,” Prez says, his voice impassioned.
“I agree. She’s got nothing to gain from coming here. I thought she might be working with Carduccio, but now I’ve met her it just doesn’t ring true,” Blade says.
“What are we gonna do Prez?” I ask.
Prez blows out a breath and rests his chin on his steepled fingers. “Way I see it, we’ve got a couple of options. We can lie low and wait for the exchange date to pass, or we can make her club property and let Carduccio know that she’s not for sale.”
“Does Jefferies have the money to pay what he owes without her?” Blade questions.
Both Blade and Prez turn to look at me and I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t know if Angel knows either. My guess is that if he’s trying to sell his fucking daughter, he doesn’t, and he’s fucking desperate. Either that or he’s a heartless bastard who really couldn’t give a fuck about his own flesh and blood.” My fingers clench into fists just thinking about Angel’s father. I want to hunt him down and kill him for hurting her. He deserves to get everything he’s ever done to her delivered back to him three-fold. Karma’s a massive bitch and I want to be the one who delivers her retribution.
Prez nods thoughtfully. “Ask her, see if she knows what the money situation is. I think we should lie low and see how the mayor reacts to his daughter not being in her bed in the morning. She’s pretty adamant about leaving once this shit storm is over, so we don’t wanna get her too ingrained in the club unless we absolutely have to.”
A growl escapes from me at the idea that she’d leave, but I’ve got no claim on her. If what happened earlier is any indication of what having me in her life would do to her, then for her sake I need to let her run when the time comes.
“You laying claim to her son?” Prez asks.
I silently shake my head, but never make eye contact. I hear his low chuckle at my response. “I’ll ask you again in a few days time. That pretty little dove has got you all torn up already.”
My eyes shoot up to Prez’s and his are full of knowing amusement. He turns to Blade. “Blade, go spread the word that the girl in Daisy’s bed is his new plaything. See if anyone recognized her as the mayor’s daughter and shut that shit down if they did. Daisy, go keep your eye on her; get her some clothes, something that won’t make her stand out. Tomorrow, we’ll keep our ears to the ground and see what Jefferies does.”
Both Blade and I nod and rise from our seats, I open the door and leave Prez’s office with Blade following behind. I turn to head toward my room, eager to get back to Angel, but Blade’s hand on my shoulder stops me. “That’s the girl,” he says.
I nod. “Yep.”
He nods back, a smile twitching at the edges of his lips. “I can see why.”
A wave of anger pulses through me and I react, grabbing a handful of my V.P.’s shirt in my fist. “What the fuck are you talking about? She’s mine.”
Blade laughs loudly, prying my fingers from the fabric of his shirt. “I know, brother. I know. I was just wondering if you knew yet. She’s a beautiful girl, but she comes with a hell of a lot of baggage, make sure you’re ready for that before you claim her.” He pats my shoulder and then heads for the bar.
Spinning on my heel I hurry to my room and my Angel.
With one last look at Daisy, I follow the woman from Anders’ office. She glances at me over her shoulder and offers me a reassuring smile. “That’s a hell of a shiner, baby girl. Let’s go get you checked over.”
We walk straight back to Daisy’s room and pulling out a key she opens the door and motions for me to go in first. I don’t know what to make of her; at first glance she looks angry and kind of mean. I’m not sure how old she is, definitely in her forties but maybe older. Her hair is midnight black and pulled back into a severe high ponytail on top of her head. Her makeup is beautifully applied, and her skin looks youthful and flawless, but her eyes betray her age. She’s wearing a tight black tank that says ‘Beavers’ in bold white print with a silhouette of a women hanging from a pole beneath. Her arms are slim and toned and one is covered in tattoos from her wrist right up to her shoulder. She’s wearing leather pants and sky high black pointy stilettoes. She’s beautiful but terrifying at the same time.
Walking past her, I stand in front of the bed and fidget. I don’t know what to do, or what to say, so I just stare at her uncertainly.
She smiles at me again and holds out her hand. “I know Anders sort of introduced me but let’s do it properly. My name is Eve, but everyone calls me Grits. Anders is my old man.”
I take her hand and shake it. “I’m Angelique, it’s nice to meet you.”
Grits smiles ruefully and reaches out to cup my cheek. I try not to flinch, but it happens anyway. She pauses at my reaction then slowly and carefully touches her warm fingers to my face. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Angelique.”
Dropping my eyes to the floor I nod, embarrassed that anyone has to see the damage my father did to me. “It is what it is.”
Firm fingers lift my chin and the anger on her face surprises me. “No, Angelique, it isn’t. What he did to you isn’t okay. A man should never raise his fist to a woman, ever. You don’t accept it and you don’t grin and bear it—ever. You’re a beautiful young woman and you should never have been treated like this. Do you understand me? I’m sorry that your father did this to you. It isn’t your fault. But from this day onwards you don’t accept this kind of shit from anyone, okay? Tell me you understand, Angelique.”
My chest is rising and falling so rapidly that I’m struggling to get enough air into my lungs. There’s a huge lump in my throat and I’m trembling so hard that my legs feel like they’re going to give way
. This is the first time in my entire life that anyone has told me what my father does to me is not okay. I’ve always known it was wrong, but my mother has spent years making excuses for him and telling me it was our own fault.
I look straight into Grits’ eyes and I can see my pain reflected back in hers. She doesn’t have to tell me that she knows exactly what I’m feeling, because in this moment I know that she does. I nod. “I know that it’s not okay. I’ve always known that, but I had no idea how much I needed someone to tell me. Thank you.”
Pulling me into her arms she hugs me tightly. “You’re gonna be okay. But if you need anything, you tell Daisy or Anders to come get me. I mean it, Angelique. The other girls will tell you I’m a mean old bitch and they’d be right, but that’s because I’ve got no time for club whores. I have a feeling you and I are gonna be friends. I know this is scary as hell for you, but you’re not alone anymore.”
Tears pool in my eyes but I blink them back. I don’t want to cry in front of this woman. She’s so strong and self-assured and I want to be like her. She doesn’t strike me as the type who would cry often so I pull in a deep fortifying breath and smile. “Thank you. I’d really like to be your friend.”
Grits smiles back and then takes my hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go take a look at your legs. How bad are they? You been taking care of the wounds?”
I follow her into the bathroom. “My mama cleaned them up and put antiseptic lotion on them, they’re not too bad.”
“Your mom knows what he does to you?” she asks, surprised.
I nod.
Grits closes her eyes for a second and her lips twist into an angry grimace. When she opens them again her face is full of sympathy. “Come on then, Angelique. You okay to show me? I know it’s creepy as fuck to get practically naked with a stranger, but I spend all day with strippers. You haven’t got anything I’ve not seen a hundred times already this week.
She barks out a laugh and I laugh too. She’s right, this is creepy, but Grits has been nothing but sweet and caring so I undo the drawstring on Daisy’s sweatpants and let them fall to the floor. I can’t watch as Grits inspects the raw skin, cuts, and welts. I’m going to lose hold of the fragile strings that are keeping me together if I see any more sympathy in her face right now. She gasps as she lifts the hem of the shirt I’m wearing and sees the new wounds and the older scars that cover the skin from my thighs to the base of my spine.
I hold my breath as she assesses the damage, then I feel her lift the sweats back up and I tie the drawstring tight again. When I turn to face her, she’s discreetly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, but it’s anger, not pity, I see in her expression. “That’s never gonna happen to you again. I promise you that. If the club doesn’t sort this for you, I’ll help you run. On my life I will never allow you to be hurt like that ever again.”
I don’t know what to say, so I stay silent. Grits audibly exhales and then she forces her face into a half smile. “Angelique is a real pretty name, but it’s a bit of a mouthful. Do you shorten it? Maybe Angie or something?”
She opens the bathroom door and I follow her out of the room. Flopping down onto Daisy’s bed she pats the cover, so I climb onto the mattress and sit cross-legged next to her. “Honestly, I’ve always hated my name. Daisy calls me Angel, but it’s never been shortened before.”
Grits smiles widely. “Angel, huh? I’ve never seen that boy behave like he does with you before. He’s always been a cocky little bastard with the girls but he’s different with you. How long have you known each other?”
I shake my head shyly. “Only a few days.”
“Huh,” Grits says with a smirk.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothin’, sweetie. How bout I just call you Dove like Anders did? It’s probably better if no-one here knows your real name anyway, and I doubt Daisy would be happy with everyone calling you Angel.”
I nod. “Dove’s fine, but I’m sure Daisy wouldn’t care. We’ve only known each other for a handful of days. I never planned to drag you all into my mess, but when I missed the bus I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Grits laughs. “I can guarantee that he’d care, Dove. I don’t know what you’re caught up in, except that you’re running from something, and I don’t need to know unless you want to tell me. But I can guarantee that if Anders didn’t want to help, he wouldn’t. If he didn’t see something in you worth helping, he’d have had your pretty little ass out of the club and on the sidewalk in the blink of an eye.”
Ashamed, I let my eyes fall on my fingers in my lap. “My life is such a mess.”
Grits reaches over and squeezes my knee. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here if you need to talk about it.”
Lifting my head, I nod. “Thank you.”
Grits smiles, then tilts her head to the side. “How old are you, Dove? You look about fifteen, but I figure Anders wouldn’t have you here unless you were at least legal.”
“I’m eighteen.”
“Hell, eighteen. You’re still a baby. You gonna be okay staying here with Daisy? If you want, you can come stay with me and Anders. It won’t be as easy to keep you hidden at ours, but we can make it work if you’d feel more comfortable.”
“No!” I shout. The vehemence in my voice shocks me, but I don’t want to leave Daisy. He frightened me earlier, but he’s been so sweet with me and he said he liked me and I like him. “No, I’m fine here with Daisy. Plus, like Anders said this is the last place my father would ever think to look for me, and I’m only going to be here for a few days and then I’m leaving town.”
Grits smile is so big it’s practically splitting her face in two. She opens her mouth to speak when the door opens and Daisy walks in.
My mouth goes instantly dry. His naked, chiseled chest is perfection. Tan skin stretches over toned muscles and defined abs. Tattoos cover one side of his pectoral muscle and flow over his shoulder and down his whole arm ending at his knuckles. I stare at him, unable to tear my eyes away. His tattoo is a colorful bouquet of flowers: poppies, peonies, daisies, and roses, cascading through an angry black skull. The contrast between the beautiful flowers and the gruesome skull is harsh but stunning and I try to examine the artwork from my seat on the bed. Had he been shirtless this whole time? How had I not noticed?
Grits clears her throat and I snap back to attention and turn to look at her. A knowing smirk is etched on her face. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dove. I’ll bring you some clothes, cause I’m guessing yours aren’t gonna blend in real well. Remember what I said, you need me, just tell Daisy or Anders and I’m here. Okay?”
“Thank you,” I say earnestly.
She smiles and squeezes my cheek before dropping her hand and walking up toDaisy. “You look after my Little Dove. She’s special and you treat her that way, okay?”
Daisy nods. “I will.”
Grits smiles then leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Daisy turns the lock and walks toward me, sinking to his knees in front of me. “You okay, Angel? You did real well with Prez.”
“I’m fine. Look, I just want to say thank you and I’m sorry. I didn’t come here thinking you would get involved with my problems; I just didn’t know where else to go. I still feel like I should be running, but Anders is right, this is the last place my father would ever think to look for me. I promise in a few days time I’ll leave and take all my drama with me.”
Daisy’s face hardens for a minute but then his expression clears and he offers me a small smile. Reaching for my hand he entwines his fingers with mine. “Come on, Angel, it’s late. You need to get some sleep. Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you some meds or anything?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I am tired though,” I say, as a yawn escapes me.
Daisy smiles and standing he lifts me into his arms and places me at the top of the bed. Pulling the covers over me he leans down and places a kiss on the corner of my mouth. His lips are soft and warm and when they touch
me I want more. He pulls away and our gazes lock. I watch his pupils dilate and my heart beats harder in response. I lift up at the same time that he leans forward and our lips meet in the middle.
The kiss is slow and sweet. His lips are a drug and I close my eyes and fall into the sensation. His strong arms are braced on either side of me and I cling to him, desperately enjoying every moment of his lips on mine.
The kiss ends too soon, and he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. Breathless, I stare into his eyes, hoping he’ll kiss me again.
“Sweet dreams, my Angel,” he whispers and pulls away from me.
I let my head fall back against the pillow and watch as he rummages in the closet. Pulling out a pillow and a handful of blankets he makes a pallet on the floor next to the bed and then slips off his shoes. He watches me, watch him undress, with a shadow of a smirk flickering across his beautiful lips.
He lies down on his makeshift bed and I roll to my side, so we lie facing each other. I fall asleep staring at him as he stares at me.
I wake up still facing him. Stretching my legs under the covers, I gasp as burning pain pulses through my skin.
“What’s the matter, Angel?” Daisy says immediately, jumping from the floor and hovering over me, his face full of concern.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine. My legs just sting after not moving all night.”
“Do you need to see a doctor? Do you want pain meds? Tell me what I can do, Angel.”
I carefully sit up, reach for his hand and squeeze it gently. “I’m fine, I promise.”
He nods but looks dubious. “Do you want to eat breakfast in here or out in the clubhouse with everyone else? It might be best to let everyone see you and then they’ll forget you’re here. The longer you stay hidden, the more curious they’ll be.”
I fumble with the fabric of the t-shirt I’m wearing trying to decide if I’m ready to face the rest of the bikers and whoever else is still here this morning.