by Jessica Ames
“I didn’t realise how much I wanted you until I learnt you were shot at. My fear of something happening to you nearly pushed me over the fucking edge, Kenz.”
The pained look on his face says more than any words ever could. It says too much. It also tells me he means it.
I quickly type: “Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“No, because I won’t let it.”
The fierceness in his voice is offset by the tenderness as he kisses my forehead. It’s a gesture that should be brotherly, and would be from any other of his club brothers, but from him it feels intimate. It’s a moment I never want to end. He drops his forehead to mine and cups my face with his hand.
“Why are you here, Dane? In Kingsley?”
His mouth pulls into a tight line. “Derek wanted to talk alliances. Your club wants our help against the Reapers.”
I’m so surprised he answered that I almost don’t take in his words. “Will your club give it?” I ask through the phone.
He doesn’t answer, just tilts his head to the side, considering me like I’m a puzzle he needs to figure out.
“Dane, will your club support us?” I hit the play button on my phone and watch him.
He shifts a little uncomfortably. “Our National Chapter doesn’t want us involved,” he admits.
London has said no. That’s bad news. Unlike the Saxons, the Devils have multiple clubs around the UK and overseas in the US. They have a structure, a hierarchy, one they have to answer to.
My stomach sinks. “So, we’re alone in this?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“If you can’t get involved then we’re alone.”
He runs his fingers down my cheek. “Dax will find a way around it. He wants to honour our alliances. And we fucking hate the Reapers, so going head to head with them won’t be a hardship.”
I close my eyes, ducking my head as real fear rolls through me. If we don’t have help can we defeat the Reapers, or will they destroy everything I hold dear to me?
His finger comes to my chin and lifts it.
“Hey, everything’s going to be okay. You hear? Dax will reach an agreement that keeps us in National’s good books while keeping our promises to our friends.”
I type a message. “How? We’re on the back foot with these guys all the time.”
“It’ll be okay,” he repeats. “I won’t let shit touch you, Kenz.”
My thoughts quickly scatter as he dips his head closer, his mouth scant inches from mine, and I think he’s going to kiss me. The seconds tick by and all I can hear is our breaths panting out of us.
Then, he gives me a weak smile and pushes back from me, and my heart clenches. His hands go to the back of his head as he curses.
“Fuck!”
I watch him stride into the changing area, my mind reeling. I quickly pocket my phone, and then I get the hell out of there before he returns.
Chapter Six
It’s been six hours since I saw Dane in the gym and my thoughts have been locked on him since. I have no idea how long he and Dax are staying, but part of me hopes it’s a while. I don’t know why, considering how we left things, but my need to see him again overrides everything.
“What is that idiot doing?” Jamie’s murmured question brings me out of my musing.
I follow her line of sight and see she’s fixated on King, who is hobbling across the room on crutches, trying to carry a large holdall while moving.
His casted leg is a reminder that we could have lost both him and Weed to the Reapers. As it is, he’s going to be laid up for a while—no riding, no sparring, no prospect duties. No tailing either. He would often follow me to work to make sure I got there safely, but since he can’t ride, that job will fall to another prospect or brother—once the lockdown lifts that is.
We’re on day four, and things show no sign of calming down yet. I have no idea how much longer this latest lockdown will last, but what I do know is as the time drags on, everyone becomes more anxious.
And it’s not just because we’re confined to the compound, but because we all know Dylan is a very real, very present threat, and with the Reapers, his old club, behind him, he becomes more dangerous.
He also isn’t showing any sign of caring. The fact he crashed into King and Weed’s car on a main road tells me everything I need to know. He isn’t scared of getting caught by the authorities, nor by the Club, and that’s concerning. He’s thrown all caution and rationality to the wind and has gone completely rogue. That scares me more than I want to admit. It makes me worry for my brothers, for the other lads in the Club, for my sister, and for my girls. I hate it.
I’m starting to feel like we’re all living on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed over the side of it. Things feel tense, dangerous, and even though I long for my own space, I find myself gravitating towards the common room more and more, seeking the comfort of my family.
I don’t understand why, but I don’t question it either.
I’ve learnt over the years to trust myself and what I need, and right now, I need the familiarity of my world, which is how I find myself huddled around a table with Beth, Liv, Paige, Piper, Chloe, Clara, Jamie, Cami, Sofia and Sammy, watching King.
Jamie leaps up from the seat opposite me and moves like lightning to King’s side, taking his bag from him. My eyes narrow. I’ve noticed she’s been more attentive than usual, which makes me wonder if something is going on between the two of them, but then Jamie isn’t really the settle down type. She’s got a wild side that I doubt would be content in a relationship.
“She’s keen,” Cami says, sipping her drink.
Piper’s best friend has slotted in effortlessly with our girl clique. I’m glad. I like her and it would make things awkward for Piper if she wasn’t accepted.
“She’s got a thing for King,” Piper tells her absently, as she flicks through screens on her phone.
All eyes shift to Piper and she slowly glances up as she must feel the weight of the stares.
“What?” Sammy leans closer.
“How do you know that?” Paige demands to know, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.
Gossip. We shouldn’t do it, but we have a network of spies greater than any the guys have. They may think we’re in the dark about what’s happening around us, but we find out everything, eventually.
“I see things.” Piper shrugs. “I can just tell.”
“I wonder what is going on there…” Beth twists in her seat to peer over her shoulder as Jamie lowers his bag at the side of the bar while he slips onto a stool. She takes his crutches from him and props them against the bar next to his seat.
Hmm.
When I let my gaze go back to the table and my friends, I notice Paige stares at King for a long moment. Then I see her throat working before she glances down at her hands.
Demons haunt her, like many of the women around this table. They’ve all had their share of trauma, but of everyone here, Paige has the most to fear from Dylan and his crew of Reapers. Of all the women here, she’s the only one who has been previously subjected to Dylan’s wrath. What happened that day in Wade’s flat, no one knows, and she sure as hell has never volunteered the information, but she was roughed up when Weed went on a rescue mission to get her. I can imagine her time with him wasn’t pleasant. I wish she would open up to someone.
“How long does King have to be on those things?” Liv asks, shifting the baby in her arms.
Danny has Dean’s colouring, but his features are mostly Liv’s. I can’t imagine the fear she must feel raising a baby while we’re at war with the Reapers. I know it’s affecting Beth, and that she fears bringing her child into this world we’re stuck in. I hope, for all their sakes, things will get better. I don’t want my niece or nephew growing up in this either.
“About twelve weeks total, maybe a little more. It depends how it’s healing.” Clara, who is a trauma nurse at Kingsley General Hospital, wrinkles her nose. “It was a bad bre
ak, so I’d expect a little more recovery time than estimated.”
“So, we have another month of her fawning all over him?” Sammy snorts. “She’s going to break her own legs with all this bowing and scraping she’s doing.”
Sammy isn’t wrong, but she is blunt, as usual. I don’t blame Jamie for being attentive. We could have lost King. As it was, he came out of the crash with the bones in his left leg shattered. They’re being held together with pins and a prayer.
All I know is I’m tired of my friends, my family being hurt. It’s been a non-stop deluge of bad luck since Beth first came home.
It all started with Liv’s ex-husband—Simon Wilson. We thought he was acting alone to hurt Liv, but he turned out to be a pawn in a game Tap and Dylan set up. Wilson took Dean and Beth to get to Liv, but he was helped by Tap who gave him the time and place to snatch Beth. Wade ended up with bullets in his gut for that betrayal. Wade later uncovered CCTV footage that proved Tap was the one who sold him out.
It didn’t end there, though. Tap and Dylan’s treason went deeper than any of us could have imagined. Wade was made to look like a police informant, in the hopes the Club would ‘deal’ with him. Dylan beat the hell out of him to stop him from talking and he was brought to the clubhouse to face justice. It was a lie, though, perpetrated by Tap and Dylan to destabilise the Club.
Why?
So the Reapers could take over some of the Club’s less than legal revenue streams. We found that nugget of information out from Beth, who overheard Jem and Logan talking.
After all that stuff went down, Tap mysteriously disappeared. Me and the girls think he got himself killed because the Club isn’t looking for him, which is a pretty big indicator in my eyes that they know he’s no longer a problem.
But Tap wasn’t the only one who disappeared. So did Liv’s ex. Because of Simon Wilson’s disappearance, a private investigator has been hanging around, harassing Beth and Liv, trying to find out what happened to him. I don’t like to think it of my brothers, but I’m pretty sure Simon Wilson will never be found. I’m pretty sure my brothers and Dean ensured he wouldn’t be to protect both women. I can’t say I have a problem with that. I saw the aftermath of what Wilson did to Beth. It screwed her head up for a long time after. I also saw the guilt Liv carried with her because of the deeds of her ex, who got off on beating her bloody when they were together.
Yeah, my sympathy for Simon Wilson is as dead as he probably is.
But this investigator is dogged and seemingly not afraid of the Club. My brother slugged him in the chops one day when he cornered Beth in her office. I watched that happen and the investigator didn’t even blink. If Logan had hit me with that much force, I would never have got up off the floor, but that crazy bastard just smiled and shrugged it off. It wasn’t enough to stop him from camping outside Beth’s flat one night while Logan was on a run, either.
The man has a death wish.
“As fun as this is, some of us have to work Sundays,” Clara says, pushing up to her feet.
“They’re letting you leave?” Paige demands, sounding a little hysterical.
“They need me to keep my job at the hospital.” Her smile is thin as she says this, as if she doesn’t entirely approve, but I get it. Clara paves the way to hide injuries that might otherwise raise questions with the law if the Club walked through the front door of the hospital. Considering how often these boys get hurt, she’s needed. “I get to go to work with an escort. I’ll catch you guys later.”
We give our goodbyes and watch Clara leave the common room. As soon as she’s gone, Sammy leans forward.
“What’s going on with her and Slade?”
“What do you mean?” Sofia demands.
“You haven’t noticed?”
“Noticed what?” Beth jumps in before taking a sip of the ginger ale in front of her. She looks queasy this morning. “Hell’s bells, I swear I can’t deal with any more drama.”
“How much her and Slade are arguing lately. I swear I heard Ghost and Wade talking the other day about the fact Slade’s sleeping on the sofa at the moment.”
This strikes me hard. Clara and Slade have always been the quintessential couple. Okay, they’re a bit of an odd match, but opposites attract, right?
Maybe not.
Maybe things are getting too much for Clara. The old lady life is a tough one and it’s not for the faint hearted, but she’s been married to Slade now for more than six years. She knows what to expect.
“Knowing Slade, he probably did something stupid,” Paige says, a little flippant.
Beth, I notice, looks down at her hands and I see the guilt flash across her face for a moment before she locks it down. She knows something, but whatever it is must be too much to share, because we’d know about it.
“Come on, guys, we shouldn’t gossip about Clara’s life. It’s not nice.” Liv’s reprimand brings me back to the conversation. Everyone looks a little sheepish.
“Speaking of gossiping, does anyone know why the Devils are here?”
My head snaps up at this question from my sister. Sofia isn’t looking at me, which is just as well, because I’m certain I’m wearing every emotion I have on my face right now.
“To strengthen alliances, I’d imagine,” Beth says. “They’re the Club’s biggest ally. I guess Derek wanted to make sure they’re still on side.”
A shiver runs through me at the thought we could be on the wrong side of Dane. He told me they were trying to come to a resolution with their National Chapter.
“They’ll support us. They’re friends of the Club,” I sign, my stomach dipping as the white lie falls from my hands.
Beth watches my signing and then shrugs. “Who knows. It’s one thing to defend yourself from a rogue club, but it’s another to step in the middle of a war between two rivals. I haven’t heard anything to suggest either way what they’re going to do.”
“Me neither,” Sammy says.
“Nor me,” Liv adds, shifting Danny in her arms, “but Dean doesn’t bring a lot of business home.”
Sharing what Dane told me doesn’t feel right, so I don’t, but Beth’s gaze narrows on me before sliding towards Paige as she asks, “Does anyone else feel like this is the coming storm?”
Looks are exchanged around the table.
“I think we’re heading towards the eye,” Sofia mutters.
I can’t help but think my sister might be right.
Chapter Seven
The next morning I head down to the gym again. I tell myself that I would go anyway, but if I’m being honest, I’d admit I’m going because there’s a chance I might run into Dane. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but my mind is full of the kisses we’ve shared and the near misses we’ve survived. Like an addict seeking their next fix, I need my hit of Dane.
The Devils are still holed up with us, although I haven’t seen either Dane or Dax since yesterday morning when Dane and I nearly kissed. I wish he had pressed his mouth to mine and taken what he wanted—given me what I needed.
I move over to the treadmill and start the machine up. I’m about three kilometres into my run when movement catches my eye. I glance around and see him standing off to one side of the room, looking delectable.
He watches me with shrewd eyes, his arms folded over his broad chest as I hit the stop button and slow the treadmill down before it comes to a stop. Then I step off the back.
“I’m starting to feel like you may be following me,” Dane says with a hint of sparkle in his eyes.
I pull my phone out and open my text-to-speak app. I quickly type my message and hit play. “I like working out in the morning too.”
Lies. I’m a night owl. I had to set my alarm to get up, which Sofia was not happy about.
His eyes travel up my body in a way that has me internally squirming. “I like you working out in the morning. You make my day start a little brighter.”
Heat infuses my cheeks. I don’t usually embarrass easily, but Dane makes me feel h
is words deep in my soul.
I watch as he strides towards me, and my breath quickens. I know I’m panting by the time he’s standing in front of me, and I can’t stop myself. I tip my head to look up at him and I’m greeted with those dark brown eyes that I can’t help getting lost in.
“What game are you playing, little one? Do you want me or don’t you?”
I need to answer him, but my hands are frozen in place.
He tilts his head to the side. “Do you want me to kiss you, Mackenzie?”
I swallow hard and then I nod. I want him to touch me, to take me and to stop tormenting me.
I don’t care about the danger or the reality of what letting Dane take me might mean. All I care about is the desire pooling in my belly, demanding I take what I want. My heart rate starts to pick up its pace.
His lips tug into a grin as he steps closer into my space. His hand moves to my cheek, cupping it, and I lean into his touch like a desperate, needy idiot. Dane’s eyes scan my face as his hand moves into my hair, threading through it before settling at the back of my nape. Then he tugs my hair, pulling my head back. It’s not a hard gesture, nor is it soft, but I can barely breathe as anticipation crawls over my skin. I want this man. I want him so much. I don’t care that he’s older, that he’s not a Saxon. All I care about is the fact that I want him.
He pulls me to his chest and his mouth moves inches from mine, our breaths mixing as he traces across my lips with his own—not touching, but so close I can feel the brush of him as he moves. I want him to move forward, to take what he desires, but I’m so mesmerised by his actions, so lost in the thrill of what is about to come, I can hardly think straight.
Then he bridges the gap between us and his mouth touches mine. Instinctively, my lips close around his and adrenaline floods my veins. There is nothing soft about the way he kisses me. He devours every inch of me he can touch, taking without apology.
His stubble scrapes across my jaw, adding to the already heady sensations flooding me, and for a moment, I imagine what it would feel like brushing against my pussy. The thought makes wetness dampen my underwear.
