Corrupting Cinderella (8 page)

“Wanna tell me about it?”

She sighs, and I can tell this has something to do with her husband, so I brace myself.

“Clay proposed up there. Not at the overlook, but the area next to it. The one with the gazebo?”

Fuck, that’s bad. No wonder the place wigs her out so much. “We don’t have to go. I’ll text him and tell them we’re going to skip it,” I say pulling out my cell phone.

Her soft fingers land on my arm. “No, it’s okay. I’d like to go there with you.”

I search her face for a second. “If you change your mind, just say so, okay? Promise me.”

“I promise.”

I take my time driving us up there, giving her a chance to back out if she wants. When we reach the overlook, Trinny is standing on the low stone wall snapping pictures with her cell phone. Wrath is standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her legs even though the drop off the cliff is a good five feet away from the wall. At the sound of my bike, she turns. Wrath slips his hands around her waist and sets her on the ground.

“We were wondering if you guys got lost!” She runs over and hugs Hope again.

“You two looked so cute standing there,” Hope whispers to Trinny.

Wrath is sitting on the wall facing us now. He lifts his chin at me, and I nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Hope snag Trinny’s cell and push her toward Wrath. This should be interesting. But instead of grouching about it, Wrath pulls Trinity between his knees, hugs her close, and allows Hope to snap a bunch of pictures.

Trinny giggles and waves me over. “Your turn! Come on, Rock-steady.”

A warm feeling settles over me as I wrap my arms around Hope, and Trinity takes a bunch of pictures. I grab a few shots of just the girls together. Wrath draws the line at them taking pictures of just the two of us. The girls want to walk along the top of the length of the wall, even though technically we could get booted out of the park for it. Every seven feet there’s a sign stating no one is to step on or over the stone barrier. I hold Hope’s hand as she tightrope walks along the wall. When we reach the end, the girls prance up to the observation deck to look through the viewfinders the park has installed. For a dollar you get enough time to take a quick sweep of the tri-county view. Wrath and I fish out quarters and hand them over.

We take a few steps back. Even though he’s staring at the girls’ asses, something is bothering him.

“What?” I ask.

He keeps his voice low so we won’t be overheard. “We came in the back way. Down at Green Rocks Pavilion there is a horde of Devil’s Demons having a barbeque.”

That makes no sense. The closest Demon chapter is about four hours from here. Fletcher Park is technically neutral ground. Since we are the dominant MC in this area, normally they would check in with us, even if just to say “hey.” We have friendly history with the Demons and maintain a decent relationship. It’s a respect thing. “Are you sure? Was it the Kodack chapter?”

“Probably. It was just me and Trin. I didn’t exactly stop and play twenty questions.”

Shit, yeah. That could have been dangerous. We have no beef with the Demons, but no reason to take a stupid risk either.

“How many?”

“Maybe twenty?”

“Just patch-holders, or did it look like a family event?”

“Family too.”

I relax a little. If they’re not here to do business, then I’m not going to worry about it. “Who knows, maybe they just needed a place to crash.”

“Yeah, but they would need a permit to close down that whole area.”

“Call Z and tell him to start making some quiet inquiries. Let’s get the girls and go.”

Realistically, I doubt this is much of a problem. Like I said, they didn’t
have
to check in with us. It would have been nice since Fletcher Park bumps right up against our territory. It’s probably nothing, or it could be a big fucking deal. The president before me would have gone to war over another club stepping foot near our territory without clearing it ahead of time. I prefer a more diplomatic approach that did not end with my brothers injured, dead, or in prison. Call me crazy.

With my VP working his magic, spending the day with Hope doing something normal seems like a good idea. Wrath and Trinity took off for who knows where. Hope and I go to the movies for the first time together. By the time the movie is over, Z has sent me a text that everything is fine. Demons were in the area attending the wedding of a non-patched family member. Z also managed to set up a meeting to discuss a new distribution line through Demon territory while he was at it.

Diplomacy in action, folks.

CHAPTER FIVE

Because there can never be a peaceful moment, as soon as Hope and I return to the clubhouse that evening, I know something is off. Wrath and Trinity are sitting outside talking. He jumps up and strides over as soon as he sees us, Trinity following close behind.

“Inga’s back,” he announces as soon as I shut my bike down.

“What? Who the fuck brought her back here?”

“Uh, I think Dex has it bad for her.” He scratches his head and rolls his eyes skyward. ”Or he did.”

Shouts can be heard from inside, and Trinny scrunches up her face. Now I’m wishing I had stuck around to talk to Dex this morning.

“What’s going on?”

Wrath slides his gaze to Hope and back to me. “She wanted to play choo-choo.”

“What are you, five?” I snap.

He’s chosen the stupidest time to finally watch his mouth around Hope. She’s not going to have any idea what we’re talking about anyway. Nor do I want her to.

I point at the house. “Who’s in there?”

“Everyone except you, me, Bricks, and maybe Z.”

Z chooses that exact moment to step outside. Flushed and sweaty, he shakes his head. “Dude, your girl, Ing, is playing a serious game of Chinese Fingercuffs.”

“She’s
not
my girl,” I grind out.

“I think she’s trying to get you jealous,” Trinity offers.

“Yeah, that’s not the way to win a guy back,” Wrath says with a chuckle.

Hope pulls on my sleeve. “So, your ex-slampiece is in there taking it in every hole from your ‘brothers’? Is that what I’m getting out of this conversation?”

I choke at her description. I’ve never heard that term before, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. It’s an odd thing to come out of Hope’s mouth, and I’m reminded how she can come with some interesting phrases when she’s feeling territorial.

Wrath and Z double over laughing. Hope is not amused. She looks disgusted.

I lift a shoulder. “No one made her.”

Now she’s really steamed. “What, is she hoping you’ll go get in line?”

Wrath is practically pissing his pants with laughter. “Probably,” he gasps.

Dick.

“She must have run home and watched one too many
Law and Order
episodes. They don’t make girls pull a train to hang here,” Trinity explains to Hope.

“What a relief,” Hope snaps.

Z and Wrath straighten up at her tone. Time to diffuse this mess. Settling a hand on Hope’s shoulder, I address the guys.

“We’re going upstairs.”

Wrath snakes an arm around Trinny’s waist. Z glances at them and raises an eyebrow.

“Trin and I were going for a walk.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Z says.

“I don’t care who does what. Make sure things don’t get too out of hand, and make sure she gets home in one piece. Make it clear she’s not welcome back. Wipe her GPS if you have to. That bitch can’t find her own ass without it.”

Next to me, Hope lets out a disgusted snort, probably because I referred to Inga as a bitch, and I find her annoyance unreasonably ironic.

“Oh, some of the guys are filming it,” Z adds as an afterthought.

Fucking hell. “End that now. She’ll lose her contract if that shit gets out. What the fuck is she thinking?”

Z looks at Hope, then back to me. “Uh, you might want to be the one to take care of that.”

“Are you fucking serious? What the fuck are you wearing this for then?” I jab a finger at his VP patch.

“I’m just saying it will be better coming from you.”

Motherfucker.

As we go inside, I see at least not all of my officers are degenerate fucktards. Murphy and Teller are relaxing on the couch, chatting with Swan who looks completely freaked out. I turn and put my hands on Hope’s shoulders. “Please stay out here.”

“Trust me, I don’t need to see
that
.”

I smile, and she shoos me away. “Go do your President thing. I’ll be right there.” She points to the couch.

Love. This. Woman. Thank fuck I finally told her.

I take Wrath to the side. “Stay here with Hope and Trinny. Do not under any circumstances let the girls take a step in that hallway.”

“Yeah, sure.” He lowers his voice. “Why, you gonna slip in a quick one?”

My hand connects hard with the back of his head before he finishes the last word. “No, fuckface. Just do what I ask,” I snap.

“Come on, chickenshit,” I yell to Z, and he follows.

“Not cool.”

“Fuck you.”

He shuts up after that, finally absorbing the fact that I am not finding this situation as funny as he is.

In the last twenty-two years, I’ve seen just about everything. But the scene in the champagne room even disgusts me. Two more club girls whose names I’ve not bothered to learn are entertaining the guys not filling Inga. Fuck, even Sparky pried himself away from his plants to partake in the activities.

Someone brought a table from the dining room in. Guess we’ll be having a bonfire later, cause I sure as fuck am never eating off it again. A stab of guilt and a prick of pity hit me. If Inga is doing this for my attention, I just don’t get it. Since I deliberately avoided the weekends she worked at Crystal Ball, I hadn’t seen her for over a year. Did she see some sort of future for us and then lose her mind when she realized I was with Hope?

I shake it off, focusing on what needs to be done. Looking around the room, I spot three cell phone cameras out and operating. A flip of the light switch halts the party. “Listen up, assholes, stop any filming right this fucking second, and everyone in the room hand your cell phones to Z. I count six fuckers in this room and three fuckees. In the next five seconds, Z better be holding nine phones. You can pick them up later.”

Groans, mumbling, bitching, and cursing follow the little math problem I just tossed out, but people are zipping up flies and handing over phones. Z gives me a disgusted look as he pockets all the hardware. Wait ‘til I tell him he has to go through each one and make sure any videos from tonight are deleted. I spot Dex in a corner looking pretty miserable as I approach.

“I hear this is your doing?”

“Not this situation, prez.”

“You know what’s going on with her?”

“No idea. Thought she was into me, but then things got out of hand.”

“Rocky!” Inga runs over to me without a stitch of clothing or an ounce of shame. She is, however, covered in sweat, cum, and smeared makeup. I shake off the hand she places on my shoulder.

“Did you finally dump that prude and come to join the fun?”

“Inga, this in no way looks like fun to me.”

Her face falls. She does that pouty thing I used to find cute even though I knew it was fake as fuck. Now, it just looks cheap and sad.

Keeping my distance and my eyes focused on her face, I ask her, “What the fuck are you trying to prove?”

She shrugs her bony shoulders.

Searching her face, I notice her eyes are glassy, her pupils tiny pinpoints. “Are you high?”

“What do you care?”

“We don’t allow drugs up here.” I don’t consider weed a “drug,” so this isn’t a lie as far as I’m concerned.

She snorts.

“We don’t allow
hard
drugs,” I clarify.

She ignores me and leans over to see Dex. “Hey, where did you go, baby?”

“Just sittin’ here, Ing.”

“Did you know some of the guys were filming this shit show, Inga? What about your contract?” I don’t know why I give a fuck, but I don’t want her to lose her income over something that happened in my club.

“Huh?”

Yeah, I’m done with this shit.

“Dex. She’s your responsibility. Get her dressed. Get her out of my clubhouse. Take her to your house, wherever she’s staying, or a motel, but she is
not
allowed back here. Got it?”

Inga lets a fist fly at my face. “Fuck you, Rochlan North! You’re not fucking God,” she screams at me.

I catch her wild fist and hold it tight enough to make an impression on her drug-addled brain. “I am here.”