Blazing Hot Bad Boys Boxed Set - A MC Romance Bundle (34 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When the police came in to the parking lot, it was Larry who went out to meet them, stepping by Tomas and Elias with a grace his size belied, while announcing his ownership of the bar and his status as a lawyer. He then handed one of the officers a sheet of paper and held council with them for a few minutes. The officers gathered around, glancing over at Elias a few times, but didn't seem to be in any hurry to get Tomas away from him. Then they all nodded in agreement and two of the officers broke from the group and came over to Elias.

"We got it from here," one of them said.

Elias nodded, clicked the safety of his 9mm, and stood up. "Need to see my license?"

"No Elias, we know who you are. Thanks for the offer, though. We have a copy of the restraining order. We'll take him in and book him."

"Right," Elias said. "Here's his weapon."

As the officers pulled Tomas to his feet Tomas gave Chelsea a look of pure hatred, but said nothing. She was shocked that the officers actually took him to a car and put him in the back without taking off his cuffs.

Once the police were gone with Tomas, Larry and Elias came back into the restaurant, which exploded into a round of applause. Larry smiled and waved and clapped Elias on the shoulder. "Take a bow, big man."

Elias smiled and then took a bow, which brought a smile to Chelsea's lips.

"Ham," she said with a teasing accusatory tone when they sat down with her again.

"Take them as I can." Elias grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "How you doing?"

"Shaken, but I'll be alright." Then she asked Larry, "How long will they keep him?"

"Oh, about four hours, I suspect. They'll book him and file the charges, but set his bail so low that pocket change will get him out. The best we can hope for, really, is that he'll be suspended. The impounding of your car will help with that, but it will be a token slap at best. Maybe a week without pay," Larry explained.

"Doesn't seem like much," she sighed.

"Oh, but it is. It was round one and we came out on top. Now, round two. Just go with the process. We'll take care of this."

"You sound so sure."

"Not my first rodeo, Chelsea," Larry told her. "Not Elias' either. Nice shooting by the way."

"What? I was aiming for his head," Elias said seriously, and then gave Chelsea a wink.

"Asshole," she chided, but then returned his cheek kiss.

"Eat up, Chelsea," Larry told her good-humoredly. "The food is still just as good, and the day is still young. And at least, for the rest of this day, you won't have to worry about Tomas."

She nodded, looked at her food, and then forced herself to resume eating.

The event didn't seem to affect either one of the men's appetites. In fact, Elias went back for two more plates. Chelsea finished hers and decided that was enough on the twisted stomach she was still dealing with.

Just as she was finishing she saw John Price, the president of the club she met yesterday on the run, come through the door of the kitchen. The man was absolutely huge, like a leather-armored bear. With him were five other men, all of them very serious in appearance. John walked straight toward their table as the men with him fanned out through the restaurant and bar.

Elias got up and met John before he reached the table and they had a brief conversation. Then John followed him back to the table and sat down with them. "How you doing Chelsea?"

"Better than a few minutes ago. How are you?"

"Well, about the same I guess. Martin gave me the call, and we came as fast as we could, but it looks like your man here took care of everything for us."

"He did do that," she agreed.

"Feeling safer with him now?" John asked.

She glanced over at Elias. "Actually, yes. Much safer."

"Good. Elias won't tell you this, but he's one of the best in the city at what he does. Several other clubs have tried to woo him away from the Wolves, but he's stuck with us."

"Oh?"

"Oh yeah. He's brilliant at security and counter-threat operations. He's even helped some of the other clubs with security gigs they have picked up for visiting VIPs."

"I didn't know that," she said, glancing again at Elias, who now looked bored.

"Like I said, he won't tell you things like that. But he's one hell of a bodyguard," John told her, and then to Elias he asked, "I've got five of your men here. Do you think you'll need them?"

Elias shook his head. "Funs over—for today anyway. I'll do some thinking tonight and we'll prepare for round two."

"Good. I'll send them back home, then."

"We're thinking Sam's for next week, John. What do you think?" Larry asked.

"Sam's is always a good run. I'm in." John nodded, and then said to Chelsea, "You're pretty good on that Sporty. You should think about getting one of your own."

"Think Duffy will trade me for my Shelby?" she asked.

John laughed. It was a deep laugh, out of a mountain of a man. "Not a chance."

"Why not? The Shelby is worth three of those Sportsters," she complained.

"Not to Duffy it’s not. The only thing he drives is his flatbed tow truck, and only when one of the club is down and his helper isn't around. He’s bikes all the way."

"Weirdo." Chelsea grinned.

"Yep, but he's our kind of weird."

She looked over at Elias. "So I've heard. I think I'm going to have to meet this man soon. His reputation has grown to heroic proportions from all the stories I've heard."

John laughed again. "He's quite the guy. Well, I'll be taking off. Glad things are taken care of, though I had little doubt they would be. See you all soon."

Chelsea watched the huge man make his way out through the kitchen and felt something warm inside of her. He really did care what happened to her. Why? She was nothing to him. Not really. She wasn't part of the club, and as far as he knew, she wasn't anyone special to Elias. She hoped she was now, but John didn't know about last night.

"What you thinking?" Larry asked her.

"Honestly? I was wondering why John seemed to care so much."

"Because Elias told him you're worth the effort," Larry said simply. "The club is like that. 'All for one and one for all,' and all that other stuff. Only it's not just
stuff
to us. It's important, and real."

She thought about that, and then put her hand on Elias' thigh. "Thank you."

He gave her a small smile. "You
are
worth it, you know."

Was she? Was she really? Two weeks ago she was bedded by Tomas, Mr. Stewart, and two of their friends whose names she never learned, one after the other—passed around like she was a fuck doll. She performed several degrading sexual acts, and then was humiliated further by having to wait on her knees until someone wanted his dick sucked again, or her ass to fuck. Worthless in their eyes, and hers. When did she become someone a man like Elias could care about? Or John? Or Larry? Or the five men who came in ready to kill for her? She bit her lip and tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Elias woke at four in the morning Monday. Chelsea was trembling in his arms from the torments of some restless dream. He smoothed her hair, hummed, and gently kissed her neck. "It's alright baby, you're safe," he whispered.

She woke with a start and locked eyes with him, and then relaxed, gripping fitfully at his arm around her.

"Just a dream baby, just a dream," he soothed.

She turned into him and nuzzled his chest while gripping at his shoulders and replied, "I know, I know, but that's not what is hurting."

"What is it Chelsea?"

"You know so little about me, and you are doing so much, risking so much for me. I want to tell you, I really do, but I'm so scared, and it hurts so much even to think about. He's so mean, Elias. Meaner than you know. Really. You handled him well but only because he didn't expect to be ambushed like that. Next time, he'll be ready for you, and the way he gets ready for things is with overkill." She looked up into his eyes, "Please don't leave me, and give me more time. Please? I want to be worth it to you, but… I know I'm not. You just don't know, and it's tearing me apart."

Her tears glistened in the moonlight coming through the window, and he leaned down and kissed her gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You should. You should dump me back on the road, get on your bike, and never look back," she whimpered, and then she clutched at him. "But please don't."

"I'm not going to do that, and yes, I can wait," he told her, running his fingers through her hair, which was damp with sweat.

"But you shouldn't have to," she bawled. "You are risking your life, and the club, and Larry, and John, and men I don't even know. He's not alone. He has friends. Friends on the force, and friends off the force who are even worse than he is."

"You've met these friends?"

She shivered in his arms—deep, trembling shudders that came from her bones. "Yes," she whispered. "I've met them." And the degradation coming through her voice made him want to get his gun and start removing people from the sphere of her life.

"Do you know any of their names?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Even their names scare you?"

She nodded again, and then resumed trembling. "What scares me most, Elias, is what you are going to think of me when I finally have the guts to tell you what I should have told you before you risked your life today. I want so much for you to like me, to see me like you do now, but it's just not going to happen, and I know that. I'm a selfish bitch because I can't bear to let this go. To let this dream end."

Elias gently lifted her chin to look her in her tear-filled eyes. "If you never believe another thing from me, believe this—nothing you can tell me about your past is going to affect who I see you as right now. You are who I met at the bar, and who you have become to me now. You are the woman I ride with, and who I will fight for, and nothing in your past is going to change that."

"You don't know—" she started to bawl.

"You left that past," he told her, stopping her protests. "You had the strength to run, and to risk everything doing it. That's hard stuff. Many people, men and women, never have the strength to take that kind of risk, to run from hell, knowing hounds will be on their trail. That's what I know about you. That's who I care about. Who you were in hell isn't, and will never be, more important to me than who you are to me right now."

Her face flashed with a series of emotions, and then she broke into a keening wail of tears and sobs. "Fuck, Elias! Shit! You are tearing me in half!"

He kissed her cheeks, and her forehead, and then soothed her and caressed her with his hands, massaging her deeply, and pulling her into him. He petted her and cooed at her until she calmed down and began to kiss him back.

"Please make love to me? I need you Elias. I need to be the woman you see, because I can't stand the woman I see. Make me your woman, Elias. Make me believe I'm yours."

***

When Chelsea's eyes fluttered open again, it was dark and she was alone in Elias' bed. She looked over at his bedside clock and saw it was after nine. Elias would be at his computer, or maybe out in the garage working on the bike frame he was designing. Or maybe he was painting another work of art for his walls with oil paints. She sighed. He was such a complex man. There was so much to him—depths she wanted so much to explore and enjoy.

On the nightstand beside her she noticed a tall glass of orange juice and a folded note under it. She reached and took both off the stand. After a long drink she read the note.
Good morning lover. You are my woman,
it said.

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Fuck," she sobbed.

How could she tell him what he needed to know without telling him what she became? Yes, she did it to survive, and no, she didn't enjoy it. And yes, it wasn't her fault, but no, none of that really mattered. She wasn't even a whore. Whores get paid. She was something so much less. She felt so humiliated when she thought about Elias possibly being hurt because of her, and so deeply ashamed when he said things like he said last night. He didn't know who he had in his bed, who he was letting his heart care about, who he was calling lover.

"But he has to know. He has to know what he is risking, and what he's up against," she told herself as she wiped her tears from her cheeks with her palm. "I have to tell him. He'll leave me, or at the very least, he'll move me back into the guest room and never touch me again. But I have to tell him."

Just the thought of Elias never wanting to touch her again forced her to curl into a ball of sobs and moans.

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