by Forgy, M. N.
“How is she?” Zeek asks, looking her over.
“She’s good,” I mutter, running my palm down my face. I’m fucking exhausted.
Zeek hands me a cup of coffee, and I take a small sip. It’s good, but I really want a bottle of Jack right now. My mind is everywhere, and my fucking emotions are even worse.
Zeek leans against the wall, a raised brow in my direction. “Jillian is up my ass wanting to know what happened.”
I sigh. “From what I got from her, her partner Raven checked the house and said it was clear and it obviously wasn’t,” I scoff. Nobody saw anything, or they ain’t talking.
“The partner must have been the one who called Jillian. Has she shown up here?” Zeek questions.
“Not that I know of.” I shake my head, setting the coffee down between my feet. Looking up at Zeek I clasp my hands together. “You don’t think it was club related do you?”
Adjusting his stance, he blows out a steady breath. “Hard to tell at this point, we are all fucking targets. We need more information from her when she wakes up to tell for sure,” he shrugs a shoulder.
“Well, when she wakes, I’m taking her back to the club. This place is a joke, she still has blood all over her,” I huff, pointing at her side that is stained with dry blood.
Alessandra stirs, her hand flexing-looking for mine. Quickly I lace my fingers with hers, letting her know that I’m here and she settles.
She’s pushing her way into my fucked up way of life. With her smart mouth, dark past, and sexy legs. I didn’t have a chance to begin with. She may look innocent and sweet, but she knows how to leave her mark on a man.
“Have you told her yet?”
“About what?” My tone vague, I know what he’s talking about but I’m not ready to tell her that. She has a past, and has a monster deep inside of her. I’m just not sure how dark that monster is once it’s been released.
“You know what,” Zeek snaps.
Inhaling a deep breath, I shake my head.
“Not yet,” I mutter.
“Just… Just, make sure you know what you’re doing brother,” Zeek’s voice is soft, but his point is sharp. His eyes on mine and Alessandra’s tangled fingers. I don’t like the way his stare makes me feel.
I shoot my eyes to his, anger pumping my chest.
“What does that mean?” I snap, wanting so bad to take Alessandra away from everyone so we can just be us and alone. Not having to worry about labels or what people think, what we think. Just us, doing what we fucking do best.
“Means… I’ve never seen you like this.” Both of his brows raise to his hairline, his tone laced with surprise, maybe even a hint of fear.
Glancing back at Alessandra the look of her hits me in the chest. That unfamiliar feeling taking hold of me again. It’s a mixture of feelings that don’t even belong in the same sentence let alone to feel all at the same time. Lust, fear, dominant, protector, jealousy, vengeful, love.
“That makes two of us brother,” I whisper.
I’ve never had someone care about me, or to teach me how to love someone outside the club.
I’m not normally scared of new things, it comes with the territory of an outlaw. But this, I’m fucking terrified because I don’t think I can give Alessandra what she deserves.
A man that is capable of normal emotions. I’m biker trash, and that’s all I’ll ever be able to give her. A world of chaos and demons.
Alessandra
Chapter 8
Alessandra
Waking up I feel stiff and very sore, and my hand is sweaty and cramped. Opening my eyes, I follow my arm down to my hand finding Felix asleep in the chair holding it.
As if he can sense me awake, his eyes snap open, and he sits up straight.
“How are you feeling?” he asks huskily, rubbing his face with his free hand.
“Like someone stabbed me,” I croak. I shift in the hard bed, not very comfortable and I’m starving for something greasy.
“I want to get you out of here, take you back to the club,” Felix states, wasting no time to tell me what he’s thinking.
“Then what?” I shrug. Curious where we go from here.
“You ask a lot of a fucking questions.” He raises a brow, his tone un-amused.
“Is that a problem? To ask questions?” I tilt my head to the side. He rubs at his chin, his long caramel colored hair falling into his face.
“It is when I don’t have the answers, especially the ones you’re looking for, Dirty Bird,” he replies honestly, and that slice in my side begins to burn.
“Has Raven come to see me?” I ask, trying to sit up. Felix shakes his head and I can’t help the look of confusion that crosses my face. Why wouldn’t she come see me?
Noticing my confusion, Felix stiffens. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Taking a long breath, I rub at my forehead nervously. “She checked that room and said it was clear—”
“Yeah, you told me when you were half drugged up yesterday,” he informs.
“So, is she just a shitty cop, or did she set me up?” I ask myself rather than state to Felix.
Felix’s shoulders rise as if he’s about to explode with rage, his thick brows slicing inward.
“Let’s get you out of here, and I’ll look into it,” he mutters with so much force I can tell he’s ready to draw blood. Something warm surfaces knowing he’d go to lengths for me, but then again I don’t want to be the reason for another blood bath. Besides, I can handle my own shit.
“Felix,” I shake my head with hesitation. “Don’t. I’m just paranoid. Obviously I’ve been hanging around you too much, scared everyone is out to get me.” I roll my eyes for effect.
Felix stands, looking down at me with heated eyes. They pin me where I lay, making my body come back alive in a heartbeat.
“That’s because I’ve learned from personal experience to trust very few people in my life. You get to throwing your loyalty around too easily and that is when you get stabbed in the back.”
My eyes snap to his, his words making so much sense. Especially since I was just literally stabbed.
Holding the crook of my arm, he pulls the IV out and presses his finger down where a trickle of blood tries to escape. A slight sting races up my arm from the IV being torn out.
“What are you doing?” I ask with alarm.
“Getting you out of here,” Felix informs as if it’s obvious.
He throws the blanket off of me and I notice I’m wearing a hospital gown and it covers very little. My thighs are showing, and it dips down low to my breast. I try to pull on it, but it does no good.
“Shouldn’t a nurse check me out, or I need to sign some papers?” I squirm.
Felix flinches with my suggestion. Like I’m being ridiculous.
“Fuck that. I’m taking you back to my club, to my bed, and nobody is stopping me from that,” he retorts.
He slides his arms under my body and lifts me from the bed. I wrap an arm around his neck and pull him in close out of instinct. The feel of his warm, hard body against mine is all I need to know that I’m safe. His strong scent of leather and spice bringing me home.
Felix steps outside my room, and I notice Machete and Gatz standing guard.
“Get the truck, we’re leaving,” Felix orders, his voice rumbling through my body.
“Um, sir.” A concerned nurse rounds the nurse’s station. Her hair a frizzy mess, and her Looney Tunes scrubs wrinkled. “You can’t just take her without a doctor’s consent!”
Felix’s grip tightens around my body as he holds me close. He lowers his head, his eyes hooded and daring. Little hairs on the back of my neck stand seeing a darkness cross him. His body stiffens beneath me, and his heartbeat throbs in his temples.
“You going to stop me?” Felix growls, challenging her. The nurse stops, her hands fumbling with the bottom hem of her top as she looks the other way. “I didn’t think so,” Felix clips.
He stomps toward the entranc
e, and I can’t help but nuzzle the crook of his neck.
There is nowhere else I would rather be.
It both disturbs me and excites me.
Felix
When Machete parks the SUV, I scoop Alessandra up and slide out of the back seat. We don’t even make it to the front door before Jillian rushes out in complete panic.
“Oh my God, Alessandra, I was so worried. Me and your mother wanted to come, but they wouldn’t let us…” I step passed her into the club, and she continues to follow us blubbering in tears. Her mother is trying to dance with Mac, who is standing on the couch with a broom to keep her back. I can’t help but smirk at the scene, until my eyes fall on Zeek standing by the bar with his arms crossed, eyeing me. That look of hardness, judging me as I hold onto Alessandra. I return the ‘fuck you’ stare, and make my way down the hall where I run into Machete.
“Get the doctor to come check her out, make sure to get whatever fucking meds we need and shit,” I tell him.
“On it,” he gives a curt nod.
“Are you okay?” Jillian asks, stepping up behind us.
“I’m fine, Jillian. I promise,” Alessandra tries to soothe Jillian over my shoulder, as I ain’t fucking stopping. Making it to my door, I kick it open and shut it. Locking it.
“You couldn’t even stop and let me talk to her?” Alessandra snaps hatefully. I glare at her tone.
“Nope.” Stopping means questioning. Questions from my boys wanting to know why I’m stuck to Alessandra like a love-struck boyfriend, and I ain’t ready to find the answer to that.
Slowly I lay her on the bed and pull out of my cut and jeans. Grabbing my shirt, I tug it over my head and slide in beside her, tearing the cheap hospital gown off of her. Her cheeks turn a shade of red, but I don’t give a fuck about her humility. It took everything I had not to slide into that shitty hospital bed and feel her skin against mine. To feel her heartbeat and know she was going to be okay.
Hovering over her, my hands slide along her bare arms, my lips and nose brushing against her silky skin. The smell of honey and coconut taking me to a paradise that is in the sun and not cold darkness that has become my life.
Sliding my hands along her side, I stop at her wound and slowly lower my head. Gently kissing around it as if the remedy to her pain is held in my lips. Her fingers tangle into my hair in a caring matter as I continue to kiss her body.
“Felix,” she whispers.
“Yeah?” I glance up at her.
“Us, this? What does it mean?” I’m so sick of that question, as I don’t fucking know and don’t want to think about it. It scares me because my biggest fear is I don’t deserve this, and it will be taken away from me.
“That’s what I plan to figure out, and we ain’t leaving this bed until we do,” I tell her, sliding up beside her I pull her into me. Her ass fits into my body’s curve perfectly like she was made for me.
Who knew someone so wrong for me, so opposite would break everything I ever knew. Demolish the code of Outlaw and rebrand the criminal that I am.
Two Days Later
Music from the bar is loud and thumping “Wrong Side of Heaven” by Five Finger Death Punch. It makes me wonder how Jillian gets those kids to sleep with all of the noise. But that isn’t what wakes me up. Alessandra crying does.
“No, I don’t want to!” she wails, and I take a hand right to the mouth.
“What the fuck?” I sit up and find her face clenched tight with fear, and she’s covered in sweat.
“Black Bird,” I whisper loudly, trying to shake her awake. She begins to slap at me, screaming no, and I become frustrated.
I take a fist to the jaw, a knee to the chest, and slap to the face in the process of trying to wake her from her nightmare.
I grasp her by the throat to pin her down from hitting me and it’s as if I just injected her with a sedative, she relaxes instantly in my hold. My brows furrow in confusion as I stare at her. Her eyes now open and looking up at me. It seems every time I grab her here it’s as if she gives me complete control of herself. It has to be related to her past.
Shifting next to her, my hand still on her throat I rest my head back on my pillow.
These feelings I have for her are strong. I don’t know if it’s love because I’ve never felt it before. I don’t want to be in love. Nobody will look at me with fear, but as a man who is pussy whipped.
I am not that, nor will I ever be. I am in control, strong, and the fucking vice president of the Sin City Outlaws.
“I don’t love you,” I whisper into the back of her head, making sure she knows I’m not the prince to save her from her fucked up world. I’m the villain in her world, and that needs to be very clear.
“I don’t love you back,” she mutters.
Alessandra
Chapter 9
Alessandra
Waking up a hand is tight around my collarbone and I feel on cloud nine. Safe, and like I’m home. Felix stirs next to me and removes his hand from my throat and it’s as if I was suddenly dumped into an ice bath with the void that is left behind.
Why I feel like that is scary, I shouldn’t like to be held around the throat like that. I can’t help it though, when he does it, I just feel instantly safe. I don’t have to pretend to be in control because I’m giving it to him. I trust him.
Using both hands he runs them down his face and rolls onto his side. His sleepy eyes finding mine.
“Do you remember the nightmare you had last night?” he asks softly. I furrow my brows not remembering waking up at all.
“No.”
“Really?” He tilts his head to the side with disbelief.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t remember anything. Why what happened?” God, I hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing.
“You just started hitting me and yelling. I felt like I was in the ring with WWE or something,” he chuckles, and I can’t help but giggle.
“I get nightmares a lot, they’re always the same,” I mutter, tracing a tattoo of a skull on his arm.
“What are they about?”
I shrug. “A little girl. She’s covered in blood, and scared, pushed to kill. Sometimes the little girl is jumping off a cliff,” I explain. They seem so real and familiar that I’m usually sick the next day after an episode. Felix’s face hardens, and he looks straight up at the ceiling.
“You okay?” I ask. His head snaps to mine, a look of confliction clouding his eyes.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, his tone of voice thick with emotion.
Rubbing his scruffy chin, I can’t help but want to know more about this man.
“Why do they call you Felix?” I ask with a smile, and he turns his head my way.
“Why do you want to know?” he replies with a husky tone that has my nipples budding with longing.
I shrug, as I casually circle that tattoo of a praying lady on his bicep.
“My mother was a club hang around, a slut if I’m being honest. She had a Felix The Cat tattoo on her lower back my dad said. When she had me she left me at the hospital with not so much as a name. She wrote my dad’s name and number on the birth certificate though, and he came and got me; called me Felix,” he tells the story that has my brows furrowing with anger and sympathy. There is no emotion in his tone, as if he’s detached from the most important thing that makes him… him.
“My dad said I look like my mother in the face,” he whispers, and I take notice he doesn’t have the Italian look that Zeek does. His brows and long hair are thick, but his skin is of a lighter color.
“So it’s true, you were raised by the club,” I state rather than ask. They said one of them was raised by the club and has no respect for the law or the well-being of others more so than any of the other men.
“Is that something you learned in the academy?” he smarts with a huff.
I silently laugh. “Actually yeah. It’s kind of crazy they make us learn about you guys before we can pass, but actually seeing you guys up close, I can say
they are wrong about you guys,” I mutter softly.
“No, they’re not. It’s just very few get to see a side nobody else does,” he exhales, before running his hands down his face as if he didn’t mean to say that out loud. I can tell by the way he’s tensing he’s done talking about him.
“How is your side?” He pulls the sheets down and inspects my wound. My stomach knots when I notice I’m still naked. I forgot he tore the hospital gown from my body yesterday and pulled me into him like he’d been dying to have me by his side for days.
“It itches, and is a little sensitive,” I inform, watching the beady strings snake in and out of my side.
Felix slides out of bed, and his hard clenched butt cheeks come into full view. Anything painful that might have been on my mind disappears as a blush of desire heats my skin. Rubbing my thighs together I bite my bottom lip and think of anything else but sex.
“I have to go to the station today, make my statement about what happened,” I tell him.
“I’ll take you,” he tells me rather than asks. I can’t help but roll my eyes at his controlling attitude. Same ol’ Felix.
He bends over, messing with the radio and Seether “Broken” thumps through the speakers. I haven’t heard this song in forever. Felix disappears into the bathroom and comes out with a tube of Vaseline.
Kneeling on the floor, he leans over the mattress and dabs some goo on the tip of his finger and slowly, and very carefully applies it to my side. His eyes focused and strong as is hands make me feel more than better.
Suddenly the door is opened and both Felix and I jerk our attention to the door.
Gia stands there in a black Harley shirt and frayed shorts. Her eyes wide and angry as she stares at us. I grab the sheet to cover myself, but Felix just turns his attention back to my wound.
“Get out,” he states with force.
“Why?” she asks. “Why her?” Gia’s voice clogs with emotion.
Felix sighs and stands. Grabbing his junk he pins her with a deathly stare.
