by Amelia Shea
“How’s it going?”
He glanced from his desk to see his sister leaning against the doorframe. She came by occasionally. Usually after a shift for a quick beer to shoot the shit before picking up Emme at the sitter’s. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her carefully. Something was different, and he couldn’t quite figure out what.
She forced a smile and walked over to the chair before sliding in and resting her clasped hands on her belly.
“So.” She inhaled a deep breath and glanced around the room. “Emme is gonna be a big sister.”
Ah, fuck. He had mixed feelings about the announcement. He loved being an uncle, but the last thing his sister needed was another kid. She was struggling as it was with her flaky, fucked up husband.
“Congratulations?” Rourke asked, trying to gauge his sister’s reaction. He watched her carefully, noticing her eyes brimming with tears and not meeting his stare. Something was off.
“Trini?”
She slowly glanced over at him, and her lips curled into a downward smile. He could tell she was fighting back her tears.
“Tri,” he whispered.
She shook her head as the tears flowed, and she cradled her face into her hands. He shot up from his chair and circled the desk. Her sobs echoed through his small office, and he bent down in front of her. She refused to look at him.
He reached out, gripping her knees with a tight squeeze. “I’ll help ya, whatever ya need.”
Her sobs seem to grow heavier, and he was at a loss. It took few minutes before she wiped her eyes and looked up. He’d known her, her entire life but he’d couldn’t remember seeing her this upset. He gripped her knees and waited.
She sniffled and smiled though it didn’t reach her eyes. She drew in a breath and tilted her head. “I’m not pregnant, Rourke.”
If it were possible, fire and ice felt like it was driving through his veins. Motherfucker, I’ll kill him. His grip on her knees tightened and his lips pursed. He had to get control. Otherwise, he’d hunt down the son of a bitch and beat him to a bloody pulp.
“Who?” Rourke asked in a guttural tone.
Trini shrugged. “Some woman he met on the road.” She inhaled and glanced away. “Said she didn’t mean anything. He still wanted to be with me.” She snorted, and the tears streamed down her face. “Lucky me, right?”
“I can kill him, hide the body.”
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, tugging him in for a tight hug. He grasped her body against his. Trini, being his little sister, had always held a special place with him. Even more so, she was a good woman who had shitty taste in men.
She released him and sat back in her seat with her red-rimmed eyes. She wiped her cheeks.
“What do ya need from me?”
She drew in a breath with a smile. “Just need you to back me, whatever I decide.”
All his blood ran cold. He wanted to support her, but one look at her husband, and he knew his fist would be blasting against his face.
“Tri.”
She rushed forward grasping his cheeks between her palms. “It’s not just about me, Rourke. Gotta think of Emme. He’s her dad.” She sniffled. “Need you to remember that when ya see him. She loves him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “And she loves her Uncle Rourke, okay?”
Ah, fuck him. He nodded and made a silent promise to himself. Trini and Emme were the most important people in his life. He needed to consider them before he reacted and kicked the shit out of her husband.
“Whatever you wanna do, I’ll back ya, Trini.”
Her nose was runny, her eyes were swollen, yet he could see a sovereign relief pass her face. She leaned forward resting her elbows on her knees.
“You’re the only guy in my life who’s never let me down. You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”
He scoffed. “Well, considering your track record.” He was trying to make light of her declaration, but she wasn’t having any of it. She cupped his jaw and leaned forward.
“You’re one of the good ones, Rourke.” Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “The best.”
He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. He wasn’t the best, not by a long shot. But he’d do whatever she needed.
Chapter Seven
“Where the hell are you?” Macy stared at the door to the club. She had been sitting in her car for the past fifteen minutes waiting on Cheyenne. The one night she finally got to have with her friend, and she was forced to pick her up at the one place she loathed.
It had been exactly a week and a day since her fight with Rourke. Since it ended. Whatever it was. After two days of self-pity, regret, and ugly crying, she picked herself up and decided to let it go. All of it. Her promotion and Rourke. Strangely enough, one was easier than the other. On day four of her “let it go” campaign, she almost broke down again and called Rourke. She sat on her bed for an hour, staring down at her phone with his contact information pulled up. One tap of her finger would have connected them.
She never called. What was the point? They’d both said horrible things to one another, hers possibly more vicious than his. It wasn’t the first time her sharp, nasty tongue lashed out at someone. But it was a first to feel remorse and regret. She couldn’t help but think, if she’d just listened to Cheyenne and calmed down, maybe things would have turned out differently. Stop obsessing. It’s over. Let it go.
She drew in a breath and muttered, “We were doomed from the beginning, anyway.”
Macy stretched her neck, taking in the view of the three girls waiting at the door. Their shorts were so tiny, they were showing ample amounts of butt cleavage. Their tops were basically the same. “Why not go naked?” She snorted and picked up her phone, texting Cheyenne one more time. She should have just met her at the bar. At least she’d be able to grab a drink while she waited.
She leaned back resting her head. She’d give her another minute and go in. With the swarms of people piling into the club, she could go unnoticed. Maybe. Just pop in, grab Chey, and jet out. Simple. The thought of seeing Rourke made her stomach turn in a twisted ache, deep in her belly.
She glanced down at the car clock and took another gaze at the door. More of the same scantily clad women entered through the door, followed by a set of bikers. She didn’t recognize their patches, but that meant shit. Fucking a biker didn’t make her an expert. It made her an idiot.
“Ah hell…” She turned off the engine, got out of her car, and made her way to the door. The prospect manning the door eyed her suspiciously and stepped in front of her blocking her way.
“You get an invite?”
“Yeah, it was hand delivered, white glove service.” She rolled her eyes and tried to get past, but he purposely blocked her with his arm.
“Rourke know you’re coming?”
“Why should he, I’m not with him. I’m here for Cheyenne. She knows I’m coming, now move so I can get in and get out. Contrary to popular belief, hanging out with bikers is not my idea of a great Friday night.”
His lips twisted in a nasty smile. “Not what I heard.”
She was about to give him her exact thoughts on the club when she was shoved to the side by a man and woman. They were obviously drunk and reeked of weed.
“Hey man, heard the party here is epic.” Macy surveyed the newcomers. She covered her lips from laughing. If she couldn’t get in, these two didn’t stand a chance. His loafers alone would get his ass kicked before he even made it through the door. She took advantage of the distraction and slid past the prospect without any notice. She weaved through the throngs of people. Finding Cheyenne in the sea of people might be harder than she thought. She stayed close to the wall but, was forced to move when she came upon a group. The four men were obviously members but didn’t have the same patch as Trax and Rourke.
She moved to the left and glanced over her shoulder. One of them, with long blonde hair and an amazing smile, started toward her. She hurried her step but got caught between
two half-naked women. A hand gripped her wrist, and she swung around.
The blonde biker was staring at her with an amused grin. “Where you going, sweets?”
She tugged her hand, but his grip only tightened.
“Let go.”
“Not until you tell me where you’re headed. I’m pretty sure I’m going that way too.” He seemed charming enough, but she had her fill of bikers, and not even the hottie in front of her was going to make her fall for the bullshit again. She stepped closer, smiled, and yanked her hand so hard it flung back and smacked against the bare ass of the girl behind her.
“Hey, bitch, touch me again and I’ll kill you.”
“You’re not making friends, sweets.” He laughed and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Better stick to me. I’ll keep ya safe.”
Panic set in. She never enjoyed being manhandled, especially by someone she didn’t know. She clawed at his hands and dug her nails deep, penetrating his skin. He pushed her back, and she wobbled almost dropping to the floor. “You cunt,” he shouted.
Macy straightened. “I told you to let me go. Maybe next time, you’ll listen, prick.” She turned but got only a step forward when a hand gripped a handful of her hair, yanking at her scalp. She screamed out when a fiery burn laced her head.
“Oh shit,” a woman shouted. People pushed off to the side, but no one seemed interested in helping her. She was losing her footing and stumbled back, landing hard against a solid chest.
“Carver, let her go.” A male voice from behind warned.
“Fucking cunt drew blood, Hades.”
“Let go!” Macy screamed again, her hands swinging behind her head. She needed one good shot to get him to let go. But it was useless. She was swinging into the wind. A tall figure came forward. She didn’t recognize him, but he seemed familiar. He reached for her, and she reacted, swinging her balled fists against his chin. His head jerked back. Her knuckles throbbed with a shooting pain striking her wrist. She’d obviously done more damage to herself than this guy.
He turned slowly, and his eyes darkened in a menacing glare. Oh, God. His gaze lifted over her shoulder and his chin jerked. Suddenly, she was released and stumbling to find her footing. She caught herself and scanned the crowd. There were people everywhere, and she needed an escape path. She swung her head and locked eyes with the man she’d punched. He lifted his hand and curled his finger, gesturing her to come to him.
Oh, hell no. She rushed to her left, but he matched her steps and circled his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest.
“Tried to help you, sweetheart.” His tone was low and sent shivers down her spine. “Then you fucking punched me.” His grip tightened around her waist. “That was a mistake.”
Her breathing shallowed, and the lump in her throat was making it hard to swallow. Why wasn’t anyone helping her? Her eyes scanned the area and felt a rush of relief when she met Gage’s stare. He seemed confused, then reality hit, and his eyes darkened as he rushed forward.
“Get your fucking hands off her.” He was a few feet away when a group of men blocked his entrance into a circular formation around him. “Hades, I’m warning you, man, you don’t wanna mess with that one. Oh fuck!” he shouted.
Hades? His name was fucking Hades, like the devil?
“I think I can handle her.”
She blinked twice. What the hell does he mean, he can handle her? Oh God, help me. She tugged again, but his grip was so tight, the pain shot through her ribs. Her eyes teared up as she fought against his hold. In her blurry vision, the whole room got still and then completely chaotic. The group in front of her scattered as if they’d been thrown across the room. Gage’s voice yelled over the loud, thumping music. “Rourke, no, man, no.”
Suddenly the tight grip let go, and she was dropped to the floor. She scrambled amongst the feet stomping close to her. A soft hand reached for her arm and pulled her up. The small woman shielded her own body to keep Macy behind her. She couldn’t see her face, but she knew her from the club. Nadia. Macy’s hands started to shake. There was so much yelling and people pushing into one another. She focused on Hades’ long hair whipping around and her gaze locked on Rourke, he was holding Hades up by his shirt and relentlessly pounding on his face. His head jerked back, and a stream of blood spit out from his mouth. He should have been down on the ground from the beating Rourke just gave him, but he turned and clocked Rourke across the face sending him back into a crowd of people.
Oh my God. She searched for him in pure panic. Was he hurt? Where the hell is he?
Hades rushed forward, and she caught a glimpse of Rourke. Both men were up and throwing fists. She’d never seen something so vicious in her life. When Rourke turned, Macy saw the blood pouring down from his nose. She gasped and covered her mouth. She didn’t even realize she was moving forward until Nadia pulled her back against the wall.
Gage’s arms looped around his chest but Rourke bucked him off sending Gage flying back against the wall. Rourke pushed forward, punching Hades in the stomach again. The flurry of people shifted, and she caught Kase barrel through the crowd, slamming into Rourke and pushing him back.
“Oh my God, Macy, are you okay?” Chey gripped her face between her hands.
“Let’s go in the back, come on.” Nadia pushed them toward the hall, and people filtered back into the main room. Cheyenne gripped her hand and led her into a room following Nadia. It was someone’s bedroom, but she wasn’t sure whose. Cheyenne slammed the door shut and cupped her jaw, angling her head searching for injuries.
“I’m fine, but I think the bastard ripped a handful of hair outta my freakin’ head.”
Cheyenne gently rubbed her head, and Macy winced. “Am I bleeding?”
“Let me get you a cold compress,” Nadia said, shuffling to the door.
“Thanks, Nadia.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.” She opened the door and suddenly came falling back into Cheyenne and Macy, pushing them further into the room.
Trax stalked in followed by Gage and a man she’d never met but knew as Saint. He was glaring directly at her.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Do you have any idea the fucking mess you just caused?” Trax inched forward with his fists clenched.
“Me? I was attacked, and you’re yelling at me?” Macy took in a deep breath, prepared to unleash on him. Cheyenne came between them, resting her hands on his chest.
“You little cunt, you come in here, cause shit, and spew your bullshit about being attacked?”
Macy flinched. What the hell? Saint stepped forward, and she braced for him to start yelling, but instead, he gripped Trax’s shoulder. Trax glanced over his shoulder and nodded, taking a deep breath. Thank you, Saint.
“Trax, everyone saw him grab her, it’s not her fault,” Cheyenne pleaded.
He pointed to Macy. “She’s not supposed to be here.”
“I didn’t do anything. I was just coming in to get Chey. This is not my fault.”
Trax scowled. “No one wants you here, you bring nothing but shit every time you walk through the door. You see what just happened? That guy was VP to a charter club. Did you see what Rourke did to him, he’ll be lucky to still be breathing.”
Macy didn’t know much about the club or its business, but she was getting the idea this would cause a major rift between them and the fault seemed to be landing on her shoulders. This was bullshit.
“I never told him to do that.”
“Yeah well, he did, for you, and now this shit is on the club. I want you out of here. Now.”
“Trax!” Cheyenne pulled at his arm, but he tore away from her, leaving her standing alone. This was a mess.
Saint followed behind Trax out the door.
Gage stepped forward. “I’ll walk you guys out the back.”
This was such a mess. The quicker she got out of there, the better off she’d be.
They followed behind Gage, passing a room. Macy peeked in as they passed and saw Rourke
standing against the wall with his bloody fists tucked into folded arms. Kase was yelling something and got up in his face, but Rourke never looked away and didn’t seem to be fazed by what was happening. Her body jerked forward when Gage grabbed her arm and didn’t let go until they were outside. A prospect came up behind them, walking in silence as they made their way around the building to the front. The bikes were lined up in the front, but only one man stood watching them. They walked to their car and got in without saying a word.
Macy and Cheyenne settled in their seats in silence. What could she say? She wasn’t even sure what exactly happened tonight. Macy side eyed Cheyenne, but her head was bowed, staring down at her lap.
Macy had just started the engine when Trax rushed out the front, stopping at the curb across the street.
Cheyenne glanced over but didn’t move.
“I think he’s waiting on you,” Macy said.
“Not sure whether I like him right now.”
“Yeah, well, you may not like him, but you do love him. Go ahead. I’ll wait unless you want to stay.”
Cheyenne flipped her hair and jerked her head. “No, it’s our night.” She sighed. “I’ll be right back.”
Macy watched her best friend walk over and stand a foot away from her man. The last thing she wanted was to come between the two of them. Trax shook his head and reached out, taking her into his arms. His chin rested on her head, and he hugged her close. After a second, she embraced him back. Trax looked over, and Macy whipped her head to the side. They were making up, but Trax would remain on her shit list until the end of time. Asshole.
She could understand why he was upset, but to put the blame solely on her was unfair. She had been accosted, and it most certainly wasn’t her fault. She gripped the steering wheel in an effort to reel in her frustration.
The door opened, and Cheyenne got in.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but he said he feels bad about yelling at you. A lot of shit got messed up from tonight, but he admitted it wasn’t your fault.”