Flawed Rider: A Lost Saxons Novel #6

by Ames, Jessica

  Handing the cue back to Charlie, I say, “I’m out.”

  He nods and takes this without question. Blondie isn’t so keen on letting me go.

  “But we’re still playing,” she whines, leaning over the table so her tits nearly fall free of her top.

  “I’m done. Find another player.”

  “But—”

  I cut her off before she can start wheedling again. “I said I’m done.”

  Her brow furrows, but she has the sense not to push it. Grabbing my beer bottle, I head over to where Lo and Wade are standing at the bar, seemingly in deep conversation.

  Draping my arms around their shoulders, I say, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

  Wade shrugs me off. “What the fuck are you so happy about?”

  I have no idea. Nothing. But I can’t tell my brothers my insides feel like they’re being set on fire, that every time I push Chloe away, I feel like I die a thousand deaths.

  Despite this, I keep my façade up. The game I play is so entwined in my existence, I don’t know how to stop it now. “Wade, the question isn’t what I’m happy about. The question is why in the fuck are you so miserable?”

  “I’m not.”

  I want to keep ribbing him, but Logan speaks. “Are you around next Friday?”

  Friday night is Club only night at the clubhouse. It’s not compulsory to attend, but I usually do. The past two weeks I’ve missed, though. My head was too full of shit to be around people. It also stops me waking up with random women—something I don’t want to repeat again.

  “Why?”

  “It’ll be a closed house. We’re patching Charlie in.”

  I knew it was time, but I didn’t realise they were planning it so soon. A patch-in party is a huge deal in the Club, though. Welcoming a new brother into the fold is not something I can skip out on either.

  “Yeah, I’ll be here.” I glance in the direction of the pool table, and see that blondie has moved onto flirting with Charlie. “Does the kid know?”

  Logan snorts. “Fuck no.”

  This makes me grin. I remember being called before Derek without any inclination of why. I was shitting myself the whole time, wondering what I’d done wrong. As soon as I was in his office, he told me I was getting my kutte and I have to say, it took everything in me not to sob like a little kid. That feeling of finally being accepted somewhere was a physical pain lancing through my chest. It’s one of the reasons my loyalty to the Club runs so deep. They gave me something I always craved: a family.

  But the problem with getting something you want is it gives you something new to strive towards.

  I got my family, but I want more. I want the old lady and I think I probably want the kid too. Hope is the most dangerous of all desires. It makes a man desperate, makes him obsessed. Many bad deeds are done in the name of hope. Taking Chloe, making her mine, would be detrimental for her, and her assertion that she will prove to me I’m not a disaster both elates and scares me. My conflicted feelings have me spinning like a tilt-a-whirl, unsure which direction to go in once the world stops moving. It would be easy to take blondie and bury my dick in her, forgetting Chloe, but I can’t. Even the thought of it feels like the worst kind of betrayal.

  I don’t understand this either.

  I’ve never had a single moment of remorse or guilt for any of the women I’ve been with. They knew the score, just as I did, but Chloe has me doubting every move I could make. I hate that I’m so unsure of myself. I’m the confident, cocky, overzealous arsehole of the group. I feel like since I met her, she’s stripped away all the things that make me ‘me’ and replaced it with… something better? Or worse? I don’t know.

  Coming back to the conversation and Logan, I say, “I’ll be there with bells and fucking whistles on.”

  Logan’s eyes roll. “I don’t care how you’re there, just make sure you are.” He glances towards the bar. “King’ll be after Charlie, providing the guy continues to do a good job and doesn’t mess up.”

  Both men are solid and good at their jobs, so I’m happy to have them on board.

  Lucas, another prospect, is a pain in the arse. I don’t know if he’ll ever get patched in the way he’s going.

  Rabbit, while solid, fucked up big time on gate duty, which allowed Simon Wilson access to the compound twice. He got another twelve months on his prospect period as punishment, so I doubt the kid will make any more fuck ups.

  “If you know anyone who’ll make a good prospect, give the names to one of the officers,” Logan says. “We’re going to need to recruit.”

  I nod, thinking through the hangarounds I’ve come to know in the past year and if any of them would make good brothers. Probably none of them. They’re all here for the party and fun, not the responsibility that goes with this gig.

  The feminine sound of laughter reaches us over the music, and I glance up to see the old ladies step into the common room. They always travel in packs, giggling about fuck knows what.

  They’re a good bunch of women. Solid. Dependable. Perfect old ladies. I like them all, although I have a soft spot for Liv—or Sunshine, as I call her to piss off Dean.

  I’m about to glance away when I notice there’s someone with them who shouldn’t be, someone I can’t have in my sanctuary. I don’t have the ability to stay strong when she’s in my space.

  I stare at Chloe Allen, who is in deep conversation with Beth, my heart starting to pick up speed. I can’t help but do a full body sweep of her, noticing how good her tits look in the top she’s wearing. Her arse looks even better.

  I shake these thoughts from my mind and focus on one that is more pressing.

  What the hell is she doing here?

  My thoughts scatter as Lo speaks again. “I’ve got a couple of runs to go on this week. Will you guys keep an eye on Beth for me?”

  “Always, brother,” Wade says immediately, his eyes locked on Paige, who is snorting with laughter at something Sammy said.

  I nod my assent, my eyes locked on Chloe. She looks beautiful tonight in her jeans and sweater. It’s casual, but somehow, she makes it look good. Then again, I think she could make a trash bag look good.

  “You know we’ll take care of her,” I murmur.

  At Wade’s, “She’s okay, right?” I drag my eyes from Chloe to look at Logan. He seems a little on edge, now I’m studying him properly.

  “She’s newlywed. If she’s not okay, then Lo better up his game.”

  Wade snorts.

  “You talk about my ‘game’ again, we’re going to have problems,” Logan tells me without any real heat in his words.

  I find myself smiling, remembering a similar conversation me and Jesse had when I first stayed over at his sister’s flat. Chloe said I was influencing her brother. She wasn’t wrong.

  “What’s going on?” Wade pushes, and I’m glad he does when Lo scrubs a hand over his jaw and looks uncertain.

  “Do you mean aside from the private investigator on her heels and Dylan the psychopath being out there? Nothing.”

  “Is that guy still sniffing around?” I ask. If he is, maybe it’s time we had a word with him.

  The PI works for Simon Wilson’s family, and he seems to think Beth—who was the last person in the official statements to see Wilson—knows more than she does.

  Beth was not the last person to see that wank stain. Me and Ghost were. We dumped that fucker’s body in a deep hole in the hills outside town. No one will ever find him, unless they know where to look, and it’ll stay that way. I’m taking that shit to my own grave.

  This investigator’s doggedness is starting to get annoying now. Beth can’t tell him what she doesn’t know, and the fact he seems to go out of his way to intimidate her, and Liv, is pissing everyone off. Old ladies are off-limits. Always. No exception.

  This arsehole isn’t scared of anything, though. Logan punched him in the face and promised to do worse, but he cornered Liv too—while she was heavily pregnant. Dean wanted to murder th
e guy. I can’t say I blame him, but it’s not the smartest idea. If we’re going to get rid of him, we need to do it smart.

  Then again, we’ve not seen the guy loitering around since before Christmas. Maybe he finally got the message…

  I doubt it, though. We’re not that lucky.

  “I haven’t seen him since the first time he cornered Beth in her office, but I don’t doubt he’ll be back. The guy was determined to get his answers.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on her,” Wade promises.

  Logan’s eyes drift over to the girls, locking on Beth and his expression hardens.

  “Nothing can happen to her.”

  “Nothing will,” I assure him, unsure why he’s being so forceful about this. We all take care of the women and old ladies. Hell, I’ve been on Mackenzie, Sofia and Jamie’s tails for months now as needed.

  “I mean it.” Logan lets out a breath. “Nothing touches her.”

  I place a hand on his shoulder and when his attention comes to me, I say, “We’ll look after her.”

  He takes me in for a moment, and I hope he’s seeing the sincerity in my face. He must do because he says, “Thank you, brother.”

  Logan dealt with, I turn my attention back to the ladies and Chloe. What the hell is she doing here? And more importantly, where the fuck is Jesse?

  “I’ll be right back,” I mutter, sliding my bottle onto the nearest table and heading in the direction of the girls.

  I have no idea what I’m doing, all I know is that she can’t be here, in my world, not without me breaking down the walls I’ve put up around me.

  As I approach, Chloe’s eyes shift from Beth to me. She does a double take, which would be comical as fuck, if she didn’t look a little alarmed. I try to curb whatever anger is on my face. I don’t want to scare her. Never do I want to scare her.

  “Weed,” she says quickly, as I step into her space.

  “What’re you doing here, Chloe?”

  She steels herself, straightening her spine at the bite in my words. It’s one of the things I love about her—her backbone. Although right now it would be better if she was showing less inner strength. It’s weakening my own resolve.

  “I invited her,” Beth tells me before Chloe can speak.

  I shift my eyes to Beth, the urge to demand answers sitting on my tongue. I won’t disrespect another brother’s old lady, though, as much as I want to throttle her for asking Chloe here. Especially not after I just promised to take care of her.

  Chloe shifts, looking a little uncomfortable. “It’s fine. I’ll leave.”

  “No, you won’t,” Beth says then glares at me. “Weed’s fine with you being here, right?”

  I don’t say yes or no, instead, I ask, “Where’s Jesse?”

  Her cheeks flush—with anger or a hint of guilt, I’m not sure. “He’s staying with a friend. God, Weed, if you hate me this much you have to use my little brother as ammunition then maybe I should go.”

  She pushes through the girls and heads for the common room door.

  I feel like the worst ass on the planet.

  “Way to go,” Beth snaps. “Why’d you have to be a jerk? She needs friends, Weed!”

  I never even thought about her being here because she needed people. It didn’t even enter my head. Chloe’s young, so I just figured she had a good social circle. Maybe that’s not the case. And really what harm does it do to have her around the women—women who will take care of her when I can’t, who will welcome her into the fold like she’s their sister?

  Beth’s right. I’m a jerk.

  Twisting on a booted heel, I take off after her.

  She’s nearly at the doors to the foyer by the time I make it out into the corridor, her head ducked as she moves a lot faster than she should be able to.

  “Chloe, wait.”

  “For what?” she demands over her shoulder. “For you to humiliate me more?”

  Fuck.

  I jog, lengthening my stride to reach her and I manage to round her just as she reaches the front doors of the clubhouse.

  “Stop.”

  She does, but only because I’m standing in front of her, blocking her retreat. Her eyes are downcast, and it makes me angry knowing I did this. I caused her to react like this.

  “I’m sorry, okay?”

  Finally, green irises rise to meet mine. “I get you don’t want me around, that, for some reason, you hate me, but did you have to be such a nasty arse in front of everyone?”

  “I don’t hate you. Christ, if only I did. It would make shit so much easier.”

  I tear a hand through my hair.

  “What are you talking about? You’ve been nothing but a dick to me from the moment we met. I don’t know what I did to upset you, but whatever it was, I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Chloe, you didn’t do anything. The problem isn’t yours. It’s mine.”

  Her eyes roll in her head. “So you keep saying, but I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of being your whipping post. If you want me gone, then I’m gone.”

  She starts to move past me, and a feeling of panic overcomes me. I know if she leaves now that I’ll never see her again, and I can’t bear that. I grab her arm, stopping her.

  “Chloe… don’t leave.”

  She shrugs me off her. “Bye, Weed.”

  I grab her again and this time, I pull her into me. Chest to chest, my heart is thrumming and as I stare into her eyes, time seems to stop. Confusion clouds her face for a moment and it’s my undoing. I can’t have her thinking I hate her.

  So I do the only thing I can do to show her what she means to me.

  I kiss her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chloe feels better than I expect, better than I could have ever hoped for. She’s soft, warm, and pliable in my arms as I press my lips to hers. For a moment she stiffens in my arms—just a bare thread of a moment—then she’s soft as putty, and I love that she is.

  My fingers tangle in her copper waves, seeking, wanting more of her, and I pull her tighter against me, needing to feel her close. She’s everything that is good in my life and I shouldn’t be taking from her, but I can’t stop myself. I want her. No, I need her.

  My brain screams this is a bad idea, but my brain isn’t in command right now. My body is, and it’s not willing to step back and do the honourable thing. It just wants and what it wants is the redheaded woman standing in front of me.

  I devour her mouth, taking what I need from her. Her soft, plump lips feel amazing and the taste of her sits on her tongue. I wonder if she can taste the beer on mine.

  I lick along the seam of her mouth, begging entrance and I’m thrilled when she grants it. This kiss is like nothing else I’ve experienced. It’s like we fit perfectly together, my mouth just the right size to completely encapsulate hers. She’s a wet dream, everything I imagined she would be and as my hand collars the back of her neck, I want to take her upstairs to my room and finish what I’ve started.

  It takes monumental effort for me to pull away from her and when I do, I’m panting. My dick is hard in my jeans, pressing uncomfortably against my zip, and my balls are so tight they hurt.

  I watch as she presses her fingers to her now swollen lips and swallows hard. Then her gaze seeks mine out.

  “Why did you kiss me?”

  To show her what I couldn’t say with words.

  I should tell her this, but instead, I say, “Come back to the common room.”

  “Weed, why did you kiss me?” she repeats.

  The lie sits on my tongue. I shouldn’t open myself up, but I’m tired of holding everything inside, of pretending. It’s not me. It’s never been me.

  So, I say, “Because I wanted to.”

  Her eyes narrow on me and I see the ire building behind them. “Is that all I am to you? A game? A conquest? I know I’m young, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m not stupid. Are you and your friends laughing about me?”

  I stare at her, unable to comprehend where the fuck th
is is all coming from. She shakes her head and mutters, “Well, fuck you, Weed. I’m nobody’s plaything.”

  As she turns on her heel, I snag her wrist, stopping her from running. When her eyes come to mine, I say, “Sweetheart, no. No one is laughing—least of all me.” I let her go so I can rake my fingers through my short hair. “I want you, Chloe. That’s never been in question, but I’m not a good man. You’d be better off avoiding me.”

  Her face contorts into a mask of rage. “How dare you.”

  My brows cock. This is not what I expected her to say. I’m not sure what I did expect, but not this. “How dare I?” I repeat.

  Her hands drop to her hips. “Yes, Weed, how dare you! How dare you make decisions for me. Whether I think you’re a good man or not is down to me, not you. You don’t get to make my choices for me. No one does.” She throws her hands in the air. “And all the evidence I’ve seen tells me you are a good man. You’ve helped me and Jesse more than we had any right to be helped. What you’re not is sane. Who tells someone else what they can feel?” She huffs an exasperated breath. “I like you. I have from the moment I met you and all you’ve done is shove me aside. Well, I’m getting tired of playing this game. If you’re not interested, tell me right now and I’ll stop trying to make you see the bloody light, but if you think something might be there between us, which I absolutely do, then I’m willing to give things a chance.”

  I stare at her, the fire practically oozing from every pore. I can feel her frustration, her anger, and I don’t blame her for it. I’ve been a dick.

  “I told you—”

  “You’re not a good man, right?” Her eyes roll. “Your actions suggest otherwise.”

  I huff out my own breath. “There’s a darkness in me, Chloe. I don’t want that to touch you.”

  She steps back into my space and my chest freezes mid-inhalation as her hand caresses over my cheek. I want to take her. I want to take her now, fast and hard. I swallow back my need. Chloe isn’t someone you just fuck and forget. If we’re doing this, it needs to be done the right way.