Jax's Dilemma:Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 2)

by Wilder, Chiah

  Pausing, Cherri said, “Let’s enjoy what we just shared. Life is so unpredictable—who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

  Pulling his head back and tilting her chin up so he could see her, he said, “What the fuck does that mean? You don’t want us to be together?”

  “I do. I’ve never felt like this with any other man. I do want us to be together. I’m sayin’ everything is different when the glow of sex is gone. Let’s talk about all this tomorrow. I want to enjoy being in your arms and being close to you.”

  He smacked his lips, his hand clenching her soft skin on the side of her body. “Is there another guy?”

  “What? No! No, there is no one else. I’m tired and I have to work in a couple of hours, so let’s enjoy being together, okay?”

  After a long pause, he smoothed down her hair, brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, and whispered, “Okay, sweetness. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, but just so you know, you’re my woman and there isn’t anything to discuss about that.”

  “Yeah, cool.” She turned her eyes away from him.

  Jax sensed she was hiding something from him. He’d have to pry it out of her later, though, because if he tried right then, she’d shut down then he’d never learn anything. He wished she would trust him and give herself to him wholeheartedly. Once she started to see a therapist, he was hopeful that a lot of issues would clear up, and she’d be free enough of her baggage to trust him in her life. He wanted to kill her bastard stepfather all over again for doing such a number on his sweet Cherri. He wrapped her tighter and kissed the top of her head as she nuzzled closer until they slipped into sleep.

  * * *

  McFahey’s office in downtown Pinewood Springs

  Peaches looked around at Patrick McFahey’s office and sneered when her eyes scanned the framed photos of his wife and children, and the placards hanging on the cherry wood-paneled walls denoting McFahey as Citizen and Volunteer of the Year. Dotting the bookcases, photographs of McFahey with senators and the current Colorado governor showed a smiling man with cold eyes. Law books lined the bookcases, and the rich, burgundy leather chairs and couch lent a regal and opulent air to the councilman’s office.

  Sitting in his swivel chair, gazing out the picture window at the mountains ablaze in gold aspen leaves and green pine needles, he turned around when Peaches cleared her throat. She stared into his cold, flat, blue eyes as they roamed up and down her body, stopping at her breasts shoved into an olive green knit top which revealed a lot of cleavage. When he stopped at her bust, he licked his lips, causing her to shiver—the guy was creeping her out. Without an invitation, she sank down into one of the leather chairs in front of his massive wood desk. Crossing her denim-clad legs, she leaned forward and said, “I have some information I think you’ll be very interested in.”

  McFahey raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

  “Yep. You know, everything is very expensive nowadays. You’d think living in a smaller town like Pinewood Springs would be cheaper, but it isn’t.”

  “Am I to take it you want to sell me the information?”

  “Nothing worth anything in life is free.” Peaches sat back and rested her hands on her knee.

  “Aren’t you one of the strippers at Dream House? How do I know you have anything I’d be interested in?”

  “Yep, I’m a dancer at Dream House, and I think you’re interested in anything concerning Cherri. Am I right?” As she noticed his eyes come to life at the mention of the bitch’s name, Peaches smiled inwardly—she had this creep right where she needed him.

  “What about Cherri?”

  “I need to see the money first, and then we’ll talk.”

  Hesitating, McFahey stared at Peaches as if he were sizing her up or trying to intimidate her. Maybe he was doing both, but Peaches had a hard edge to her from years of surviving, so she didn’t intimidate so easily.

  Standing up, she began to walk toward the door, and said over her shoulder, “I can see you aren’t interested. I don’t want to take any more of your time.” Placing her hand on the brass door knob, she pretended to turn it when she heard him push his desk chair back.

  “I’ll pay you a thousand for the information.”

  Turning around she laughed at him. “You can’t be serious. I can make that on a good night at Dream House. I’m thinking more in the neighborhood of ten thousand.”

  McFahey’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve got to be insane. I can’t give you such a large amount without it being noticed. I can’t do it.”

  “That’s too bad. It’s even more of a shame your race to the governor’s seat in the next election won’t make it past you announcing your intent to run.” It was her turn to stare him down. “Have a nice day, councilman.” She opened the door and as she was about to cross the threshold, a large, frustrated sigh expelled from behind her.

  “Fuck! Close the goddamned door and sit your ass back over here. What you have to say better be worth ten thousand, or else I’ll make sure you’ll regret you ever contacted me.”

  “It’s worth more, but I’m not greedy.” She smiled broadly.

  “I’ll give you five thousand upfront, and when you tell me what you know, you’ll get the rest.”

  “Sorry, councilman, but I’m the one calling the shots, not you. You’ll give me ten thousand and then you’ll get the information. If you don’t agree, I walk.”

  Red blotches spotted his skin as she saw his eyes narrow in anger. She knew she was pushing it, but this was her one chance to have some real money and screw Cherri at the same time. She was tired of that bitch thinking her shit didn’t stink, and she was livid Jax had his cock in Cherri’s pussy and ignored her. Peaches had been biding her time, waiting for the right moment to pay Cherri back for stealing Jax. She vowed she’d make the bitch pay, and earning some money in the process was an unexpected bonus.

  “Do we have a deal? I don’t have all day to waste with this shit.”

  Nostrils flaring, McFahey nodded, went over to a door, and disappeared through it. Reappearing after fifteen minutes, McFahey laid one hundred crisp one hundred dollar bills on the desk in front of her. “Now, tell me what you know, bitch.”

  Scooping up the money, Peaches smiled and said, “You’re the proud papa of a very much alive and thriving baby girl whose mama is your favorite fuck, Cherri. The money you gave her to get rid of the little one, she used to get rid of you.” Peaches laughed. “Your sweet daughter lives in Dexter in a quaint, wooden house with a darling picket fence. You, councilman, are the father of a bastard daughter. Imagine how the media will love it.”

  Eyes bugging out, face red, and sweat pouring down his face, the good councilman slammed his fist on the desk and yelled, “Are you sure about this? How the fuck do you know?”

  “Cherri’s a slut who’s sleeping with my boyfriend, so I wanted to get something on her. I followed her to Dexter. She goes to see your daughter regularly. She looked downright maternal when I saw her in the park with the brat. It made me sick.”

  McFahey’s face turned from red to white and his hands trembled as he placed them on the desk to steady himself.

  “I also know she’s planning to blackmail you. She’s obsessed with money and she told her friend, ‘McFahey is such a buffoon. I can’t stand his limp dick in me. He’s my meal ticket for a better life. He’ll pay handsomely for me to keep my mouth shut about his daughter.’ She’s been plotting this for a long time, and she came to Pinewood Springs when she found out you were here.” By the hatred washing over McFahey’s face, Peaches knew he believed her lie. Her hope was to have him get rid of Cherri once and for all, and then Jax would come back to her and she could finally don his “Property of” patch.

  “The fucking cunt.” The councilman wiped his wet face with a handkerchief. “I’m glad you told me.”

  “I’m one of your voters. I want to see you as governor come election year.” She zipped her purse. “It was nice doin’ business with you.” She walked toward the
door.

  “Not so fast. I got a condition attached to the money.” He had her wrist in his hand, and the more she tried to pull free, the tighter he gripped it.

  “What condition?”

  “It involves you on your knees with your mouth wide open.”

  “You want me to give you a blowjob?” Peaches, incredulous, debated her options.

  “If you don’t want me to call security and tell them you stole the money. I think they’re going to believe a respectable family man before a stripper at a biker bar.”

  “You’d do that, too, wouldn’t you?”

  “Great minds think alike, you know. The fucking biker must be hung like a stallion for you bitches to be fighting over him. You can rest easy because you’ll have your man back. I’ll take care of Cherri.”

  Joy coursed through Peaches body as her mind exploded with images of Jax kissing her and announcing to his club she was his old lady. Looking at McFahey, she smiled and said, “Ease back on your chair while I unzip your pants.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next day, early evening

  Snaking his arm around Cherri’s waist, Jax planted a kiss on the side of her face while she tried to take roll call for the early evening shift. Peaches glared at him when he slid his hand over Cherri’s hips as she giggled.

  “Cut it out. I’m trying to do my job and look professional doing it.” She feigned indignation, but her twinkling eyes told Jax she loved his attention.

  “Do any of you ladies mind if I show my woman some love while she works?” He threw a boyish grin at them, making several of them wish they were in Cherri’s position. Shaking their heads—except for Peaches, who continued to glare at the couple—Jax grazed Cherri’s earlobe with his teeth and breathed in her ear, “The consensus is in, and no one gives a fuck.”

  Cherri nudged Jax away. “You’re so bad.” Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she whispered, “Later tonight, you can show me how bad you can really be.” Before he could say anything, she spun out of his arms and marched behind the curtains to make sure everything was set for the evening’s rush.

  Shaking his head, Jax smiled and sauntered over to the bar to grab a bottle of beer and a shot of Jack. Sitting at his favorite table in the front, he took a long draw of his beer, stretched his legs in front of him, and watched the stage as a cute, short brunette with a generous rack shook and wiggled all her parts to pulsating rock music. As he looked at her, he saw Cherri’s face and body. He was hooked on his woman from the beginning and he’d never missed one of her shows, but he hated that the brothers had seen her body. Since she wasn’t dancing anymore, he liked it a whole lot better. The members joked and teased him about how crazy he was about Cherri, and he couldn’t believe it, either.

  When he was at the club the other night, a sexy slut was spread on the pool table with three guys fucking her and a few others waiting their turn. She was a friend of Brandi’s, and the slut wanted to be a club whore, so she was going through initiation. The brothers yelled for Jax to come over and get in on the fun, but he didn’t want to. It surprised the fuck out of the brothers, and it floored him. He couldn’t get Cherri out of his mind, and he didn’t want to fuck any of the sluts who hung out at the club—he only wanted to fuck his Cherri. Shaking his head in disbelief, he threw back his Jack and enjoyed the biting sting roll down his throat into his belly, warming it.

  As he stared blankly at the stage, a warm, soft pair of arms clung around his neck. At first, he thought it was Cherri, but her lavender scent was missing and a cheap, overpowering floral smell invaded his nose. Turning his head sideways, he noticed Peaches as she planted a hard kiss on his cheek.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Peaches? I told you to stop doing this shit.” Jax untangled her arms and shoved her away from him.

  “I came by to say hi. What’s your problem?”

  “You don’t understand. We’re finished. You gotta stop throwing yourself at me all the time. It’s pathetic as fuck.”

  Peaches blinked rapidly as she watched him. “You got some nerve. I was okay to fuck when Miss Bitch was too frigid to take your cock, but now that she’s turned into a horny cunt and you’ve taken your dick to her pussy, I’m history?”

  Bristling, Jax clenched his hands into fists. “Stop before I throw your ass outta Dream House for good. And yeah, I decide whose pussy I wanna fuck. You got no say. If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to give it up so easily, bitch. Go on, get outta here before I do somethin’ I’ll regret.”

  Darkness shrouded Peaches’ face as she gazed at Jax. Leaning in close, she said in his ear, “I’ve something very special to tell you about your favorite stripper.”

  “I said I’m done with this shit.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll want to hear about your precious fuck.”

  “You’re drunk, Peaches. Go sober up. Don’t you dance tonight?”

  “I’m tipsy, but what I have to say will come outta my sober mouth.”

  “I don’t do gossip.”

  “This isn’t gossip. What I’m gonna share with you is fact. You know, right from the source.”

  “Not interested. Move on, Peaches; you’ve become a pain in my ass.”

  “Okay, but before I leave, I have one question. Did Cherri tell you who the father of her daughter is?”

  His stone face masked the wrestling match his insides were having: tell the slut to fuck off, or find out who fathered Paisley. A thick veil of gloom crept over him, adding to the bad feeling he had about Peaches’ information. He should tell the slut he didn’t care because it made no difference to him then walk away… but he didn’t. “Who is it?”

  “Our very own councilman, Patrick McFahey, is the proud daddy.”

  The words hit Jax full-on in the face like an ice cold bottle of beer. “Who the fuck did you say? McFahey? No way. You got some wrong information there, bitch.” Jax averted his eyes back to the stage.

  “Oh, my information is solid,” she said in Jax’s ear. “I’m sure you know your precious Cherri was McFahey’s private whore for six months before she got knocked up. And now he wants her back, you know, to pick up where they left off, and she’s more than willing to do it if the price is right.”

  Yanking her arm, his thumb pressed down hard on her skin. Jax growled, “I don’t believe any of the shit you just told me. Are you that desperate to trump Cherri you’d resort to spewing this fuckin’ bullshit?”

  Wincing in pain as Jax’s thumb pushed harder against her skin, she said, “I only have your best interests at heart, baby. I love you, and I know the cold bitch has kept the truth from you. If you decide to keep her, then that’s fine, but you need to know the truth. Why would I make this up? How the hell would I know about McFahey or that Cherri has a daughter in Dexter? You don’t think she’d share with me, do you? I bumped into her when she was with McFahey a few days ago, at an out-of-the-way restaurant. They were in a cozy booth acting very lovey-dovey. I heard her tell him she’d get back with him if he put her up in a nice place and gave her a generous stipend. If you don’t believe me, ask Cherri if she was at Le Crystal Restaurant. Ask her if McFahey’s the father of her daughter. I think you need to know this, baby.” Peaches ran her hand up and down Jax’s arm.

  He swatted her hand away, his face a distorted mask of hate, anger, and hurt. “Get the fuck away from me.”

  She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and said, “Baby, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t do anything except tell you the truth. You deserve to know the truth.”

  Through clenched teeth, Jax replied, “Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me.” Eyes rimmed in sparks of rage and betrayal made his face gruesome. Peaches backed away from Jax stiffly as her knees locked. Leaping out of his chair, Jax loomed over her as she continued backing away from him. He bent down and hissed in her ear, “You disgust me,” then stormed away.

  Images of McFahey—the fucking, greasy pig—touching Cherri made his stomach lurch as every nerve in his body jumped
. He had an edgy, twitchy feeling, and he wanted to break something or punch someone real hard. His muscles and veins strained against his skin. Cherri and McFahey? His mind couldn’t process it. Why the fuck didn’t Cherri tell him about it?

  Standing by the bar, trying to assimilate the information Peaches gave him, he noticed Cherri making her way toward him. An overwhelming urge to dominate overcame him, and he pointed down the hallway where the private lap rooms were. Appearing confused, she shook her head and gestured to the dancers. Rushing up to her, he jerked her arm and dragged her behind him to one of the rooms.

  Inside the dimly-lit, mirrored room, the pervasive smell of patchouli filled the space. Shoving Cherri inside, Jax slammed the door. Cherri, tripping over the plush carpet, landed on the velveteen purple couch. Rubbing her elbow, she said, “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” he said in a low, hard voice.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cherri gathered her hair in her hand to make a quasi-ponytail.

  “Did you meet McFahey at Le Crystal a few days ago?” His words came out in short, staccato clips.

  Cherri froze, and but for her eyes widening, her face was devoid of emotion.

  “Is McFahey Paisley’s dad?” He hoped she’d deny it, but she answered his question with silence. “Were you McFahey’s paid whore in Denver? Are you going back to him?”

  Cherri sat mutely on the couch, not moving a muscle since his questions started. Taking her silence as affirmations, he clenched his fists as his mouth went dry. Her lies and betrayals were like a sword to his gut, cutting him in two and taking all his blood, passion, and feelings.

  “Get your whore ass up. I want a lap dance.” Throwing five one hundred dollar bills at her feet, he stood in front of her, glaring.

  Staring at the money, Cherri’s eyes glistened as she covered her face with shaky hands. She shook her head and said in a barely audible voice, “Please, I don’t want to.”