Sydney Storm MC Complete Series

by Levine, Nina

  I folded my arms across my chest and clenched my jaw. This guy may have been familiar with Monroe, but there was something intimate about the way he spoke to and looked at Tatum. Something that irritated the fuck out of me.

  “No one important, Fox, and he won’t ever do it again,” Tatum said. The fact she seemed closed off to discussing it with him caused the tension in my shoulders to ease a little.

  “Yeah, well if he does come back, you call me, okay? I’ll take care of him for you, babe.”

  “He won’t be back,” I grunted, unfolding my arms. “And I’ve got Tatum under control.”

  Her gaze swung to meet mine and she raised her brows. “You’ve got me under control?”

  “I’ve got the situation under control.” I didn’t let her gaze go.

  “Yeah, that’s better,” she said, irritation still clear in her tone.

  We stood watching each other for a few moments, a new tension settling between us. It was as if everyone else in the room faded away leaving only the two of us. Again, I found myself facing an inner battle of being both frustrated with her and turned on, all at the same time. This was an unfamiliar feeling and it unsettled me. I usually kept sex separate to every other part of my life. The women I fucked weren’t women I associated with, and I never formed a relationship with any of them. Brittany was the exception to that and my association with her hadn’t turned out well.

  Monroe’s voice cut through my awareness. “No one controls Tatum, Nitro.”

  Without taking my eyes off Tatum, I said, “I’m getting that impression.”

  Fox pushed off from the counter. As he moved past Tatum, he placed his hand on her stomach and slid it across her body as he said, “I’ve missed you, T. You should call me.”

  She gave him a smile, and although it seemed vacant and didn’t reach her eyes, I couldn’t help balling my fists at my side.

  Fuck.

  My stomach churned with annoyance, which in itself also pissed me off. What did I care if he was fucking Tatum? She was nothing to me. Nothing but a woman I had to keep alive for my club.

  And yet I couldn’t deny that the sight of his hand on her stomach sent a wave of fury through me. I didn’t want his hand anywhere on her body.

  Tatum

  “Break On Me” by Keith Urban

  I eyed King warily. The man scared me, and it wasn’t often I said that about anyone. Nitro and I had arrived back at the clubhouse hours earlier after finding Dustin and since then, Nitro had been busy with club stuff. I spent the afternoon catching up on work in the bar as well as chatting with Renee. King had wandered through the bar a few times, directing a glare my way each time. There was something about him that I wasn’t quite sure of. What I did know for certain, though, was that King was a man to be kept at arm’s length. The sooner I escaped his radar, the better.

  “He’s okay,” Renee said, dragging my attention back to her.

  “Who? King?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.” At my frown, she continued, “I know he comes across as freaking scary, but he’s helped our family a lot over the years. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t cross him, but I definitely know he’s loyal to those who are loyal to him.”

  I looked back over at King who stood near the entrance to the bar. He was deep in conversation with one of the club members, a nearly bald guy who glanced at me a few times while they talked.

  Turning back to Renee, I said, “All I know is that for those he has no loyalty to, he’s unpredictable and can be an asshole. And word on the street is that he’s a man to avoid, so it’d be fair to say I’m not impressed by him.”

  She smiled. “I like that about you, Tatum.”

  “What?”

  “That you say it like it is. And that you don’t let Nitro get away with shit.” At my surprise, she added, “He might be my uncle and I might love him to death, but he can be a jerk. He’s way too bossy and I like that you challenge him.”

  I laughed. “You’re smart for a teen, you know that?”

  She stared at me in mock offence. “Are you saying teens aren’t smart?”

  As she spoke, my attention shifted from her to the bald club member King had been talking to. He made his way to us and rested his hands on the backs of our chairs. “Tatum, you got a minute?”

  Looking up at him, I asked, “Who are you?”

  “Devil.”

  I liked that he asked me rather than bossed me into giving him a minute. “Sure,” I said, standing and following him out of the bar to a kitchen.

  I was surprised to find Nitro there, his head down while he scrolled on his phone. When Devil and I entered, he looked up but didn’t say anything before going back to what he was doing on his phone.

  He’d pretty much ignored me since we left Monroe’s. He ran so hot and cold with me, but since he’d spoken to Fox, he’d been like ice. I hadn’t asked him yet, but I wondered if he knew Fox somehow, because irritation had rolled off him while in Fox’s presence.

  “What’s up?” I asked Devil, ignoring Nitro.

  “Got a question for you about Billy. How likely is he to renege on a deal?”

  “Your gun deal with him, you mean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Usually I’d say that if you don’t piss him off, you’ll have no worries. The fact he’s pissed off at Nitro doesn’t help you.”

  Nitro’s head snapped up. “In other words, you’re telling us he’s unreliable.”

  “No, what I’m telling you is that you shouldn’t be involved in the deal at all.”

  He scowled. “That’s not practical. We don’t make deals with assholes who dictate which member they will and won’t work with.”

  “There’s always a first time for everything, Nitro.”

  “No,” he said, his voice rising, “there’s not. Not for me.”

  “God, are you always this frustrating?” His refusal to bend did my head in. As far as I could see, this was a no-brainer. All they had to do was get another club member to take over this deal.

  He shoved his chair back and stood, his chest puffing out as he pushed his shoulders back. “I’m trying to get shit done for my club, and all we need to know is one simple thing, Tatum—will your asshole boss go back on the deal we made with him?”

  I stepped closer to him. I had no idea what caused him to get so worked up this fast, but I was just as worked up now. “I don’t like you referring to him as an asshole all the time. And I’ve answered your damn question. You stay out of it and there won’t be any problems.” With that, I stalked out of the kitchen back to the bar. Trying to have a rational conversation with Nitro was ridiculously hard, and it was safer for me to leave than to keep arguing with the man.

  Pulling up a stool at the bar, I ordered a drink. If I had any luck, it’d put all the irritation out of my mind for a few hours.

  * * *

  “Tatum, I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” Renee said at around ten that night.

  I blasted a smile her way and raised my glass. “I’m only getting started.” With that, I emptied my glass and placed it on the bar for a refill.

  The chick behind the bar had kept the drinks coming all night and she didn’t let me down. Swiping the glass, she said, “The same?”

  I nodded before glancing back at Renee who frowned at me.

  “I’m going to bed,” she said. “Don’t drink too much more. You really have had enough.”

  “You’re a sweet kid, Renee. Nitro’s lucky to have you in his life.”

  Watching her walk away, I couldn’t help but think about my brother. Chris used to look after me in the same way Renee appeared to care for Nitro. I missed him so much it physically hurt. Monroe loved me hard, but it would never be the same as a twin’s love. That kind of love came from a place I couldn’t even begin to describe. Without having to think, we just knew how the other was feeling; we knew when the other needed us; we felt pain and hurt and all the emotions of each other on a bone-deep level. Knowing I’d never ha
ve that again had almost killed me. I’d wanted to die when Chris died.

  “Tatum.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut as Nitro’s voice washed over me. When I opened them again, I found him sitting on the stool next to me. “I’m not in the mood,” I said, weariness kicking in. I really wasn’t. The last thing I wanted to do was go another round with him.

  “Not in the mood for what?”

  I drank some of the rum that had been placed in front of me before saying, “For your bullshit.”

  He didn’t respond straight away, but I did note the vein that pulsed in his temple. I drank some more rum and waited for him to speak. Finally, he said, “Renee told me you’ve been drinking all night.”

  Frustration with him consumed me and I swivelled on my stool to fully face him. Ignoring the pain that shot through me as I did that, I snapped, “Am I not allowed to drink while being held hostage?”

  That vein ticked again.

  “You can drink as much as you want.”

  “So why are you here then?”

  He stared at me in silence for a long moment. Then, raking his fingers through his hair, he said, “If you’ve got something to say, say it. I’m not a mind reader.”

  I drained my glass of rum and leaned closer to him, wobbling on the stool from all the alcohol I’d consumed. “Billy has always had my back and was one of the people who dragged me from hell after my brother was murdered. You might not get on with him, but I do, and I refuse to talk to you about him anymore, so if you’ve come here to ask me more about him, you can leave now.” The words rushed out and I was almost breathless by the time I got them all out. I gripped my empty glass hard as I acknowledged the tension I felt in his presence. I’d never had this kind of feeling around a man before. It was putting me off my game, causing my mind to short circuit.

  He curled his hand around my wrist. “Anyone ever tell you how fucking sexy you are when you get all passionate about something?”

  My gaze dropped to his hand. His touch fucked with my ability to concentrate even more than his presence already had. My lower belly was in a state of what-the-fuck-are-you-doing? My skin was in a state of “holy fucking hell let him touch every part of you” and my vagina had pulled out the fucking welcome mat.

  “Vegas,” he growled, and my eyes immediately shot back up to meet his.

  “I don’t know why you insist on calling me that,” I muttered. Nicknames were for people you liked. I didn’t want him calling me that. We had no relationship other than the one where he made sure I survived and then we never saw each other again. I could ignore my desire for him if we could just get to the part where we went our separate ways.

  “And I don’t know why you always argue about shit.”

  “Because you make me!” I blurted it out and instantly regretted the outburst. It was so unlike me, and that right there was what Nitro did to me—he made me forget who I was now and what I needed to do to get through my days. He caused my mask to fall.

  “How the hell do I make you argue with me?”

  I snatched my arm from his hold and moved off the stool. Picking up my bag, I said, “I don’t know, you just do.”

  He slid off his stool. “Where are you going?”

  “To bed.”

  “Yeah, where?”

  It was then I remembered where I was and the fact I had no clue where I would sleep that night. As that realisation hit, I did something I never did. I burst into tears.

  “Fuck,” I spluttered, madly wiping the tears from my face. Why the hell am I crying? I never fucking cry.

  The harder I tried to stop crying, the harder I sobbed. It was all too much. The fact I was almost raped; Nitro and King dictating what I had to do; another club after me; a fucking bomb… it all overwhelmed me. And although I was damn good at not acknowledging when I felt like life was too hard, I struggled with that this time.

  Nitro stared at me, his body stiffening as a look of complete bewilderment settled on his face. In amongst all the thoughts flying at me, I wondered if he’d ever seen a woman cry before because it sure as hell looked like he had no idea how to handle me.

  And then he did something that took me by complete surprise. He moved close, put his arms around me and enveloped me in a hug. It was an awkward hug, but one nonetheless.

  I rested my head against his chest. I was tired. So damn tired. Closing my eyes, I cried my exhaustion out. Nitro’s arms remained around me, like a reassuring blanket keeping me warm when all I felt was freezing cold.

  I didn’t move when I stopped crying. I didn’t want to. And Nitro didn’t force me to. Instead, he said, “Come, I’ll show you where you can sleep.” With one arm still around my shoulder and my body pulled into his, he led me out of the bar. It didn’t escape my attention that while he held me firm, he did his best not to hurt my injuries.

  His room was small. It contained a double bed, wardrobe, and chair, as well as a tiny bathroom. Totally like his house—minimal furniture, no personal items to be seen. Renee slept on the bed, and there was an inflatable double mattress on the floor.

  Letting me go, he jerked his chin at the bed. “You sleep next to Renee.”

  I looked up at him. “Where’s Dustin sleeping?”

  “He’s in another room.”

  I nodded. “Okay.” Moving to the empty side of the bed, I removed my boots and jeans before sliding under the sheets.

  Nitro watched me and once I was settled, he left the room. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim me. The long day full of drama and the alcohol I’d consumed made sure of that.

  * * *

  “Mum!”

  Where was she?

  I ran to her bedroom to find her.

  She wasn’t there.

  I searched the whole house.

  She was nowhere.

  Tears fell down my cheeks as my body crumpled against the wall.

  My heart raced in my chest.

  She was always home. She never left us alone after school.

  Chris entered the room, and I knew from his face and the way his shoulders hunched over a little that he didn’t have anything good to tell me.

  “Mum’s gone,” he said, waving a piece of paper in the air, his eyes sad. “And she’s never coming back.”

  My dream slammed into my consciousness and I sat up straight in bed, pain from my ribs spreading through my body like ripples across water. Sweat coated my forehead. My hair stuck to my neck in a clammy mess. Tears wet my cheeks.

  “Oh, God.” I dry-heaved as I shoved the blankets off and stumbled into the bathroom. This dream always made me feel sick, and the alcohol in my system only made it worse.

  Leaning over the toilet, I vomited.

  More pain ricocheted through me.

  I vomited again.

  Another round of pain gripped my body. I thought for sure my ribs would snap from the violent shudders as I threw up.

  Please make this stop.

  Please.

  I swayed as another wave of nausea assaulted me.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I reached out and placed my hand on the wall to hold myself up. My head swam with dizziness and I struggled to draw breath in.

  Just as I thought I would pass out, strong arms circled me from behind, taking care to avoid my ribs as best they could. Warm breath hit my ear as a deep voice said, “Vegas. I’ve got you.”

  Always saving me.

  I leaned my head back, against his chest, and took a deep breath. Nausea rolled through me again and I retched one last time. Nitro held me and pulled my long hair back as I vomited. I wasn’t sure why, because it was already coated in puke.

  When I finished, he slid one arm across my chest and held me tight. His body leaned away from mine as if he was reaching for something. A moment later, he flicked the tap on before then placing a wet washcloth to my forehead.

  “You need to vomit any more?” he asked.

  I shook my head slowly. “No, I’m done.”

  His arm dropped fro
m my chest and he turned me to face him. Handing me the washer, he said, “Here, clean your face. I’ll get you a towel so you can have a shower.”

  He was right—I needed a shower. But I wasn’t sure I had the energy to give myself one. I took the washer, though, and nodded. “Thanks.” It barely came out as a whisper, but he heard and returned my nod before leaving to find a towel.

  The coolness was a welcome relief against my warm skin. I held it over my face the entire time Nitro was gone. Truth be told, I didn’t want to move it away. I liked the dark shield it gave me from the world.

  I didn’t want to deal with the world that night. All my emotions had been stirred up in the last forty-eight hours, and I’d gone from being numb to feeling like I wanted to come out of my skin. My soul was alive with feelings and I didn’t know what to do with them. My usual response was to bury them deep, but that didn’t seem possible.

  “Here.”

  With another deep breath, I removed the washer from my face and looked up at Nitro who stood watching me with a serious expression tinged with concern.

  I placed the washer on the vanity and took the towel he offered.

  When I didn’t speak, he asked, “You need anything else?”

  “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

  He hesitated for a beat, as if he was unsure whether he was still needed. It seemed so out of character for him. Well, for the man I knew so far. Something told me there was a whole other Nitro hidden under the gruff asshole exterior he presented to the world. Certainly not a Mother freaking Theresa, but I’d seen enough to know he had the ability to care for people.

  Once he decided I was okay on my own, he left the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

  I sagged against the vanity.

  Fuck.

  I took a minute to centre myself before pushing off from the vanity and slowly removing my clothes. It fucking killed to move because of the agony my ribs were giving me, but I eventually stepped into the shower and let the warm water soothe my aching body.