Stone Cold: An MC Erotic Romance (6 page)

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

Victoria held tightly to Chad, her body shivering uncontrollably as adrenaline soured in her blood. That man was going to kill her. Right there at the table. It wasn't a threat. If Chad hadn't stopped him when he did, he would have slashed her throat, like she was just an animal and not a person at all.

 

She was a person. A real person. But that man didn't see her. To him she was just a whore. A club bitch, like Kathy. Just an ass that Chad fucked, whose life was unimportant and could be taken without reason. That man was going to kill her just to show Chad he was serious. Raul fully expected Chad to let him too!  It was like it was normal! Like killing her would have been as eventful as dinner being served. As common an insult to Chad as lifting the middle finger at him, or something stupid like that!

 

Chad didn't let him. He stopped Raul. But she could still see Raul's shocked eyes when Chad broke his wrist. Raul couldn't believe that Chad would do that in front of the others, over a simple whore. She saw his disbelief was pure and deep. Chad's actions made no sense to him at all.

 

She wondered briefly what Raul thought about being slammed into the table afterward.

 

These men, the bikers and the Mexican drug men, they were far more vicious and violent than she ever imagined. Including Chad. He was so calm when he did that to Raul. He just smashed him against the table and let him fall like he was nothing, like he was meat. Then he calmly went back to eating, and talking politely with Cesario.

 

Both of them talked together, as if Raul wasn't lying on the floor. They didn't even check to see if he was alive. They just ignored him, and her. Chad didn't even ask if she was alright. He didn't hug her or even rub her leg. He just went right back to talking with Cesario.

 

Victoria once believed that her mother was cold, and unfeeling. Her mother never offered Victoria warmth, or a loving embrace. In fact, Victoria couldn't recall the last time her mother touched her on purpose. Victoria now had a new definition for the idea of a person being
cold.
Her mother was an armature.

 

The meeting sounded polite, and civilized. Everyone talked with respect and manners to each other. There were smiles and agreeable nods of the head. Cesario offered to show her his house, and spoke to her very warmly. But none of that was real. It was just surface stuff.

 

Cesario, she realized, was ready to kill them all. Large amounts of drugs were taken and someone had to pay for the loss. Cesario was going to kill them, and kill her simply because she was there.

 

Mike knew this danger when he called Chad to Juarez, she reasoned. Mike knew that Chad was riding into a meeting that really had nothing to do with him, and would possibly get him killed. She thought Mike liked Chad, but you didn't do that to someone you liked, did you? He didn't even warn Chad, or tell him anything that was going on.

 

Victoria's head spun with all of these thoughts, and they twisted inside of her, becoming uglier with each turn. At the center of this storm, however, was the question she shied away from, the question which was ripping her heart apart,
Was this the real Chad?

 

She couldn't face that question, and her fear of it trembled her body as they rode across the border, back into the United States. She was no less afraid of that question when Chad waved to the others, and took an off-ramp 50 miles down the freeway. She was still visibly shaking with her terror of that question when he brought her inside of the hotel room and told her to get undressed, urging her to get into the shower. When she didn't respond right away, he helped her with her clothes, and rubbed her with soothing hands as he led her into the streams and steam of a hot shower.

 

He cared about her, didn't he? Didn't he see her as human? As someone worth living? But then she thought about how the club treated the women, the ones called club bitches. They had names, but only for convenience. They were tits with legs and a pussy to fuck. No one took care of them really. They were just passed around like objects no one really wanted, but used from time to time. Chad had used Kathy before. She knew this. He even admitted it.

 

She stood in the shower, her thighs quaking with these horrible questions which threatened to lead her to terrifying answers.

 

If Chad was like the other men down in Mexico, like Cesario and Mike, could his caring about her be real? Or did his rubbing and soothing of her mean nothing.

 

Chad came into the shower and pulled her out. She didn't know how long she was in there, but apparently it was long enough for him to come get her. She shivered with cold and trepidation while he toweled her off.

 

After she was dry, he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her cradled to the bed. He got into the bed with her, his back to the headboard, and held her cradled in his arms. She snuggled against him pressing into his warmth, begging him silently to tell her that she was real to him. That she was not just a piece of ass. She meant something to him.

 

It felt like only minutes, but the room was dark when he turned on the lights, bringing her out of her mired thoughts. She blinked at the light as it glared into her darkened eyes. Her hands were sore from gripping his leather vest with her fists. Her body was warm though and he continued to rub her back and ass.

 

"Chad?" she asked quietly, as if they were inside a church.

 

"Yes, Vic?"

 

"Do you care about me?"

 

"Yes, Vic, I do."

 

"Really? I mean, not just being polite like you were at the table with Cesario, but really?

 

"Yes, Vic, I do. I care about you a great deal."

 

"You... you hurt people, don't you."

 

He nodded, "Sometimes."

 

"Like when you are robbing them."

 

He only hesitated for a moment, "Yes, Vic, I'm a criminal, just like all the other men in that room today. I don't get involved with the drugs, or the women, but I'm involved in other things. Criminal things. And yes, sometimes I hurt people."

 

"I want to love you, Chad, but right now, you scare me as much as Raul did, with his knife. I can't stop shaking; I'm so scared of you."

 

"I could point out that you knew I was a bad man when you came into the bar, but I know you really didn't know that then. You didn't have a clue what you were inviting into your life."

 

"I wanted to have fun," she said with a soft sullen voice.

 

"It's not all fun, Victoria."

 

"Should I leave?" she asked.

 

"I don't want you to," he told her.

 

"No?"

 

"No."

 

"Why? There are the other women. You don't need me."

 

"Yes, I do," he softly corrected her.

 

"Why? I don't give head as well as Kathy. I'm not tough or experienced like the others. Why do you need me?"

 

"Because I love you, Victoria, and no other woman gives me what you do. None of the others are like you, so I really don't want you to leave."

 

She moved to look up to his eyes, "I'm so scared of you though. What you did to Raul. How easy it was for you. How you just dropped him like he was a napkin. You were so calm! It was so normal for you!" she whimpered, beginning to cry.

 

"I was scared to death, Victoria," he told her. "He was going to hurt you, and I would rather have died than to let that happen. But all that calm, all that easiness was all an act. I had to act that way. But I was scared. I really wanted to hold you, and make sure you were alright, but I couldn't. I had to act like I wasn't disturbed. That I wasn't scared out of my mind."

 

She searched his eyes as he told her this, trying to see past the surface. All she saw was his open confession. She decided that if he could lie like that, she didn't stand a chance anyway. The only question was if she could still love him, knowing what he was capable of.

 

"I really and honestly love you, Victoria, and I'll never endanger you like that again. I promise," he told her as he searched her eyes.

 

"But what about you? Will you endanger you like that again? Mike knew before he called you. He knew," she accused, her eyes becoming a little harder.

 

"Yes, he knew. But as it turned out, I was the best one to call," he offered.

 

"But what if you weren't?"

 

"You know the answer to that, Victoria," he said, brushing his hand through her hair.

 

She bit her lip and then nodded her head. "Yes, you're right. I do."

 

"I can't promise I won't be in danger like that again. I want to promise you, but it would be a lie and I don't want to lie to you."

 

"How can I love you if you could someday go off and get yourself killed? I won't even know what happened to you. You just won't come home."

 

"Do you want to love me?"

 

She bit her lip and with large young eyes, full of fear she nodded her head.

 

"That's a start," he smiled. "We can start there. We can go home and start from there."

 

"Home? Our home?"

 

"Yes, our home."

 

"And you won't let Kathy suck your dick?"

 

He laughed. "No, I won't ever let Kathy or any other woman, suck my dick."

 

"Good," she said with a sulky voice, and snuggled into him again, "I'll get better at it, I promise."

 

She must have fallen asleep, because she woke up, still curled up in his arms, with sunlight edging around the thick curtains of the window.

 

Chad had cradled her in his arms all night long.

 

She moved in his embrace, trying to get out without waking him, but his eyes opened, "Good morning," he said softly. "Feeling better?"

 

"Yes. You held me all night," she said, a little awed.

 

"You feel good in my arms, and I wanted to hold you safe," he told her.

 

"Do you think there is coffee close by? Can I go get you some?"

 

"There's a diner. If you feel up to it, let's get breakfast."

 

They ate and then brought two large to-go cups back with them. Victoria got change from the office and collected several cans of coke for them as well.

 

Chad stayed for two days. Victoria was grateful for that. She needed more time with him, just him -- Chad without the club or Mike or the Mexicans or the parties. Just Chad. She thought she saw the real Chad when she was searching his eyes last night. She was happy, and hopeful with what she found.

 

She stripped off her clothing when she was inside of the room, and then stretched out submissively to him on the bed, putting her head on his thighs near his cock and rubbing her cheek and forehead into his lap. "I know my body turns you on," she said.

 

"You turn me on, Victoria. I've been with beautiful women before. They were never like you are."

 

"What makes me special?" she asked, sincerely curious.

 

"It's not a thing, Vic. It's not like it's your ass or your tits or your humor or your willingness, though all of those things really do it for me, too. It is you. All of you, because none of those other things do it for me enough without the rest of you," he told her.

 

"You make me sound like something special," she accused.

 

"Because you are," he told her.

 

She studied his eyes for a long time after he said that, wanting to believe him. She wasn't special to her mother, or to her father, or to her previous lovers. She was merely available. She was what was at hand. "Did you have a club bitch with you before I came?"

 

He shook his head, "They aren't very interesting to me, not really. While drunk at a party I have taken one into a back room a few times, but that's it."

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