“
Say you go against Grady
and the club votes you down. He’s barely tolerating her being in
Pop’s house as it is. You lose your patch for her and that crazy
bitch is gonna follow you wherever you go.”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t
have to. He’s taking a chance by talking to me. I know that shit’s
not easy.
“
Problem is, Bro—you lose
your patch and ride off into the sunset, and what happens when
Mancuso finds you? Way I see it, the only thing keeping her alive
is this club. You can’t do that shit on your own.”
“
Tell me what to do,” he
says in a plea. I bite my tongue to stop myself from cracking a
joke. Trigger’s not one to give up control easily, and he pretty
much never asks for help. I consider ribbing him about it, but if I
tried that, he’d probably self-destruct from trying to sort this
shit out on his own. I love the dude, but he’s not really a
thinker.
“
Let her go,” I say and
take another pull of my beer. “You care way too much about her to
let her get hurt, so the only thing you can do is to just let her
go. At least then she’ll be safe.”
“
She’s fucking
relentless,” he says.
“
Then make her understand
that this isn’t going to happen and why,” I say.
“
Yeah,” is all he says as
he walks slow and defeated to his room, slamming the door behind
him.
I can’t really be happy for Trigger
right now. It’s not like he’s got his shit sorted and everything’s
gravy. Still, seeing him this fucked up over a broad—and Princess
of all people—makes this shit almost worth it. Trigger isn’t the
kind of guy who gives a damn about women or how they feel, so
whatever he feels for Princess must fucking mean something. And I
don’t think it’s going to go away. He’s always been a company man,
and going against the club to keep her close is news that’s
bothering even the Nevada charter. With any luck, he’ll figure out
how to turn her off enough to put an end to this shit.
I’m done, I think. I don’t want to
think about this shit anymore. I need food and a comfortable bed to
pass the fuck out on. Without thinking twice about it, I pull my
phone from my pocket and hit the number nine, then wait for her to
answer. But she doesn’t. It’s fucking typical. The phone rings and
rings until the voice mail message picks up.
“
This is Nic, leave a
message,” her voice sounds through the phone in a surprisingly
pleasant tone. Maybe the fact that she rarely answers her phone is
a good thing. At least leaving a message ensures I’m gonna hear
something nice out of her mouth.
I wait for the beep and say, “Come on,
Nicole. Answer my calls. We both know you got a house full of food,
and I’m hungry. I’ll be by in a bit so we can have dinner. I’m
thinking you could get those steaks going.” I don’t know if she’s
eaten yet, but I haven’t, and I’m fucking starved. Plus, eating a
second dinner isn’t going to hurt to put some pounds on that stick
figure of hers. I head back to my room to grab my bag and head over
to Nic’s house, but stop halfway there. Trigger’s door swings open,
and he stands in the doorway. His head is bent. and he’s looking
down at his phone in his hand.
“
Got a text from Cub,” he
says without looking up. “Got to pick her up.”
“
Where is she?” I ask,
giving him a nervous glance. He keeps sucking air in through his
nose and blowing out heavy breaths. He lifts his hand and wipes
white powder away from his nose then lifts his head. His eyes are
pinned and unfocused.
“
House party. Downtown,”
he says. “You’re gonna want to follow me.”
“
Why?”
“
Because she left the
house with Nic,” he says and pinches the end of his nostrils
together, sucks in a deep breath, and shakes his head.
“Fuck.”
“
If you’re not good to
ride, I can take Ruby’s Suburban to pick them up,” I say.
Irritation tickles the back of my neck as he sniffles and shoves
his phone back into his pocket. No wonder she didn’t answer my
call. “What the fuck are they doing at a house party downtown?
Those places are fucking skeezy.”
“
And the clubhouse isn’t?”
he asks, smirking and grabbing his dick.
“
At least we know the
fucked up shit that goes down at the clubhouse,” I mumble and turn
around to head back down the hall and out the door. Trigger’s
behind me when we pull out of the driveway, but then he takes lead.
The house is a short drive from downtown, but we take our time
riding slowly up and down every street in between. It isn’t long
before Trigger signals with his left arm that he thinks he’s found
the house.
The house in question is jam-packed
with people, and the music is blaring. I recognize this house and
fucking pray this isn’t where they are. Fort Bragg’s small, but
there has to be another house party going on tonight. At least, I
hope. This place is owned by a couple of meth heads who used to
cook the shit here a couple years back before the club had to shut
them down. We only found out about it because Layla was buying her
shit here.
Trigger pulls up to the house in front
of the fire hydrant, makes a sharp right and then backs the bike up
to the curb. I follow his direction. When I dismount, I look for a
guy to watch the bikes. People in this town know not to fuck with
us, but some of these losers need reminding and my bike already has
one fucking scratch in it. I’m not about to let her get
another.
Scanning the crowd, I find a kid who
can’t even be out of high school yet. He’s young enough to be Nic’s
brother, and he’s standing on the sidewalk holding a forty in his
right hand. His eyes widen as I point at him and say loudly, “You.
Come here.”
The kid walks over all wobbly-like and
nods. He obviously knows who we are, and he’s been raised right if
he looks like he’s going to piss himself like he does.
“
You watch my bike. Make
sure nobody fucks with it, or I’ll be breaking bones when I come
out,” I say. He nods his head furiously and takes a swig from the
bottle.
“
Yeah, I can do that,” he
says.
I jerk a thumb over my shoulder at
Trigger and raise my eyebrows at the kid as I take my helmet off
and set it on the handlebars. “And that guy? His bike gets fucked
with and you might want to be careful. He likes to pound his dick
into tight young assholes.”
The crowd parts and quiets down as we
walk through. Trigger jabs me in the ribs for my comment, but says
nothing else as we head through the house. The faces in the rooms
aren’t familiar as far as I can tell, but they aren’t stupid.
Someone turns the music down and conversation stops save for a few
people who stand on the periphery whispering among themselves.
Forsaken showing up at a house party they weren’t expected at is a
big deal to the people in this town. In the kitchen, shoving
baggies and a glass pipe in a drawer, is the meth head who owns
this shithole. He’s skinny as fuck, and his limbs jerk as he
moves.
“
Shut this shit down,” I
say to him. He nods his head and his hands twitch as he continues
to sweep a mirror and a few needles into the drawer. Fucking
loser.
Around the corner from the kitchen and
behind the center hallway is the covered back porch. The room is
littered with a variety of furniture. On one of the center couches
sit Nic and Alex. At the sight of the two of them, obviously
fucking drunk, huddled together on the couch, my blood pressure
shoots through the roof. Neither of them has any fucking business
being in this kind of place. The shit that could happen to them in
a place like this makes me wanna bust some heads open.
In front of me, Ryan reaches out for
Princess. Happily, she takes his hand, and he pulls her to her
feet. I move around them and look down at Nic, who’s sporting the
biggest, cutest fucking pout on the planet. Damn, even pouting
she’s fucking cute. I shake my head at her, which makes her cross
her arms over her chest and shake her own head back at me. I don’t
know what the fuck’s happened since this morning. We had a good
morning. We bickered, grocery shopped, and I was planning on having
her make us dinner. Absolutely nothing should be pissing her off
right now.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I turn away
from her to find Trigger and Princess turning and facing the door
to the hallway. A half a second later, Princess loops her pinky
around Trigger’s. I try to temper my reaction by scratching the
back of my neck, but I can’t stop the shocked look that covers my
face. What the fuck is wrong with this chick? But Trigger doesn’t
let go. His pinky tightens around hers, and he brings his arm
closer to his body, which brings Princess closer as well. I didn’t
see this shit on the way from Brooklyn, but according to Ian, the
pinky shit is a thing between them. Unfortunately, Grady’s seen it,
too. Hearing about it made me laugh because it sounded like they
were making shit up, but actually seeing it for myself does
something else to me.
I try to shake it off and turn to Nic.
With the offering of my hand and a reassuring smile, I wait for her
to give in. It takes her a moment longer than I’d like, but finally
she reaches out and slips her small, calloused hand into mine. When
she does, I tighten my grip and bring her flush against me. With
one hand on her lower back and the other gripping her hand in mine,
sandwiched between our stomachs, I lean down and lightly smack my
forehead against hers. “What the hell are you doing
here?”
Pulling back, she rubs her forehead and
scowls up at me. “Dick,” she says and offers up nothing else. Using
her free hand, she pries the other from my grip and practically
stomps off behind Princess toward the front of the house. Her arms
are folded over her chest, and she keeps her eyes forward. Princess
looks backs at Nic and then to me, then down to Nic again. The
smile on her face is blinding, but then it falls and she narrows
her eyes at me. I guess she’s still acting pissy about that orgasm
I gave her. Women. Normally, chicks can’t wait to let me in their
pussy, but Princess is different. She’s definitely not normal,
that’s for sure.
“
We’re heading out,
Brother,” I say to Trigger once we reach the sidewalk. I wrap my
hand around Nic’s and try unsuccessfully to hold back the laugh
that bubbles at the look on her face. She’s pretty much shooting
daggers at Princess and muttering things I don’t understand, but I
do catch a few choice words like
cut
,
throat
, and
bitch
. I let go of Nic’s hand and
give her ass a pat. “Go ahead and run,” I whisper in her ear. “I
like the chase.”
Climbing onto my bike, I start her up
and hold my helmet in my hands. I wave Nic over, but she doesn’t
budge. Above looking mad, she’s downright fucking angry at me being
here. She shakes her head in refusal. I bring my right arm up and
point my index finger at her. The defiant act was cute a few
minutes ago, but now she’s acting like a fucking child, and it’s
wearing on my nerves. It feels like it takes half of a goddamn year
for her to get over her shit and walk over to me. Grabbing the
helmet, she places it on her head and snaps it in place, then
adjusts it. She doesn’t hesitate as she swings a leg over the bike
and tucks herself into my back. Taking off, I leave Princess with
Trigger and just hope he’s not too fucked up to ride her home
safely, but it’s too late to rethink shit now.
Chapter 14
I pull up to Butch’s house to find all
of the lights on inside and the music louder than it should be at
this time of night in this neighborhood. Butch didn’t give a shit
about a lot of things, but respecting others was something he was
always going on about back when I was a prospect. Far as I know,
Nic’s got good neighbors, and they don’t deserve to have their
eardrums blown out. “Shit,” she mutters from behind me and climbs
off the bike. Placing the helmet on the handlebars, she stomps up
to the house and flings the door open. I give a good laugh at her
stomping now that she’s out of range to hear me. I’m trying to fuck
her tonight, not get the cold shoulder.
Voices rise from inside the house, and
people pass in front of the living room window. Through the
doorway, I can see Nic as she’s shouting at her bitch ass brother.
Two teen boys and three girls appear from the corners, all half
yelling at each other and at Nic.
“
Fuck that,” I say and hop
off my bike. Walking slowly from the drive and down the concrete
pathway, I try to listen to what’s being said before I let the kids
know I’m here. Against the wall that separates the living room and
entrance is Nic. Jeremy towers over her and is shouting in her
face. She looks like she’s giving as good as she gets, but I can’t
hear a word she’s saying. The way he’s crowding her makes me pick
up my pace.
“
Who the fuck do you think
you are? This is my house, not yours!” he screams. “Quit being such
a fucking bitch!” Something in me snaps, and I barrel forward right
into the house. I run into two bodies that part, each going a
different direction, and I slam into Jeremy. My hands find purchase
in his shirt and I push him forward. He stumbles and falls on the
floor in front of the couch. His dark blue eyes are wide, and his
jaw is slack.
“
Get up!” I shout. He
doesn’t move fast enough, so I lean down and yank him up by the
front of his shirt. Up close I can see how bloodshot his eyes are.
Paralyzed in fear, his body shakes and his eyes water. The smell of
beer is on his breath—my beer. Fucking shithead. I tighten my grip
on him then push him off of me and down onto the couch. Pointing a
finger at him, I say, “Any body part you move I’m going to break
the fuck off.”