by Jessica Ames
“Any pain, nausea?”
“Both.”
I’m no stranger to pain. I’ve lived with my share of it over the years, but the fact Whizz is asking it makes me worry. Did I do myself irreparable damage?
“Your eyes look clear, but I still want to keep an eye on you. I’ll be in to check you again in an hour.”
“Do I have to stay in my room? Can I leave?” I ask the words I’ve dreaded to ask since the Sons promised me protection.
He laughs. “If you were a prisoner, sweetheart, the accommodation wouldn’t be as nice as this.”
Cold swamps my belly and I swallow the lump in my throat at his candid words. Clearly, I’m getting the VIP treatment, which means they don’t suspect me of anything yet. Good.
I watch him leave. These men are dangerous—even the doctor who is supposed to save lives has a fatalistic streak that scares me.
I wait a few minutes, then, with Whizz’s blessing, I open the bedroom door. I need to get the lay of the land, see how easy it will be for me to get out of here when the time comes. I expect to see brothers milling around, maybe a guard on my door—that’s what Isaac would have done—but the corridor is empty. The smell of stale smoke and something musky hangs in the air as I make my way down the corridor towards the stairs, retracing the steps Nox and I took earlier.
The clubhouse is quiet, which has fear dancing up my spine. It doesn’t strike me as a place that usually does silence.
I move down the stairs, a hand pressed to my bruised chest, but I encounter no one. Where the hell is everyone? I know Whizz is at least in the building somewhere, but surely everyone else didn’t clear out.
The front doors call to me like a siren, calling to an unsuspecting sailor. Just a few steps and I can be outside. Just a few steps and I can find my freedom.
“Lucy?”
I spin at my name and find myself coming face-to-face with Nox again. My heart rate quickens and I feel like a naughty kid caught where I shouldn’t be.
“I was just stretching my legs,” I quickly explain.
His brow draws together at my words. “You feeling okay?”
The concern makes my stomach fill with warmth. “Yeah,” I say softly. “Whizz just checked in on me. No traumatic brain injuries.”
I smile, but he doesn’t mirror my expression. Instead, his eyes roam over my face and I feel as if he could glimpse over my walls if I let my guard down for even a second.
“You hungry?” he surprises me by asking.
I’m not sure I am, but I nod anyway.
He leads me into a large dining area with a long table with chairs to seat at least thirty people, and into the kitchen. Everything is stainless steel, but it looks old, no longer shiny. There’s a double cooker that is definitely not new and a dishwasher that has seen better days. The space is clean, though. Whoever is in charge of their cleaning does a good job.
He drags open the fridge and gestures at it.
“Help yourself to whatever you want while you’re here. If you can’t find something you like, write it on the board,” he juts his chin at a white board on the wall, “and someone will pick it up for you.”
“You?”
He snorts. “I don’t shop.”
This doesn’t surprise me. He doesn’t strike me as a man who does something as mundane as picking up groceries.
He steps aside and I peer in the fridge, feeling like a thief. I pull out a yogurt and some grapes. These guys don’t strike me as healthy eaters, but the salad crisper is surprisingly full of greens. Then again, I suppose they have to keep these bodies somehow. There’s no doubt Nox is built beneath his kutte. His tee clings to the contours of his body, showing the peaks and valleys of his pectorals.
“So, um, what happened to my car?”
“It’s in the club’s garage. Hector will take a look at it, see if he can fix it up, but it was pretty fucked up.”
Disappointment floods me. How am I supposed to escape without a vehicle? At the time, my sole focus had been on finding safety. Maybe I should have been a little more careful. First thing to do is sort out new wheels.
“Sorry about the damage I caused.”
He waves a hand. “It’s just stuff. It can be replaced.”
He steps into my space, and I back up until my spine is against the counter. I peer up at him, my mouth drying out as he dips his head closer, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. My stomach flip-flops at the thought and not in an unpleasant way, but his mouth doesn’t descend. Instead, his tattooed arms come either side of the counter, pinning me in. My breath catches in my throat at the molten look in his eyes.
I shouldn’t encourage it, but it’s been a long time since I had anyone other than Sasha care about me. I can’t help but want this a little, even if I try to deny it.
“You can’t look at me like that,” I breathe out.
“Like what?”
“Like you want more.”
He cocks his head to the side. “I can’t help wanting to taste your sweet mouth, Lucy.”
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and I can’t stop from leaning into his hand as he does. My mind wanders, wondering what he’d feel like under me, on top of me, his veiny arms holding me down. Heat pools in my belly at the thought, and it scares the shit out of me.
Needing to get out of his space so I can think clearly, I duck under his arms and grab my food, holding it to my chest like a shield. He lets me go, turning to follow my movements. The man is sinfully sexy, but I can’t be thinking about him like this. I mutter something about needing to lie down, and make my escape.
Getting close to Nox isn’t an option, but the more time I spend with him, the more I think that might be out of my control.
I’m in trouble.
6
Nox
“Any news?” Rav demands.
He’s sitting at the head of the table, drumming his fingers off the wood. The way he’s slouched in his seat suggests he’s relaxed, but I can see the tension in the tight set of his shoulders and the narrowing of his eyes. The beasts that live inside him can only be tamed by two people, Sasha and Lily-May.
Lately, I feel like my own monsters have been too close to the surface. It’s been four days since Lucy crashed into the gates of the clubhouse and dropped the bombshell that someone tried to kill her. My anger over that hasn’t disappeared yet. It seems to grow every time I remember the gash on her head, remember the blood that covered her, remember the way she sobbed against me.
It’s also been four days since I thought about taking her mouth in the clubhouse’s kitchen.
The only thing that stopped me was the fact that a few hours earlier I had to shower her because she was so out of it. It didn’t feel right taking things further when her emotions were so fucked up, but fuck if my mouth didn’t water every time I looked at those pouty lips of hers.
“Hank came up clean,” Titch says, scratching at his jaw. There isn’t a hint of scruff on it and I wonder how much the guy must shave to keep it that way. It makes him look younger than his thirty years.
“Keep digging,” I order.
Church isn’t going the way I expected. I thought we’d have a lead on the boss. That hasn’t happened. How the hell did Hank come up clean? That guy has to have dirt in his life. You don’t get murdered for nothing.
Maybe we need to go deeper to get to the crux of what this arsehole is involved in. It’s probably a good thing he’s dead, because I want to kill him myself for dragging Lucy into his shit, and I wouldn’t have made it quick either. When I think about how close she came to having her brains blown out it makes my stomach roll.
Titch scowls. “What fucking difference is going deeper going to make? There ain’t shit there to find.”
It’s pure bullshit. We all know men that dress in suits hide behind legit businesses. Most of them are bigger crooks than we are behind the scenes. I have no doubt good old Hank was the same.
I lean forwards on the table, ref
using to believe his words, and hiss, “It makes all the fucking difference. That fucker has put Lucy on the radar of these cunts. We need to know who they are.”
And we need to know it soon. The longer they’re out there the more chance Lucy has of being found.
“Just keep looking,” Rav says, his rings glinting in the light. “There has to be something we’re missing.”
I appreciate him having my corner on this—not that I need it. I can fight my own fucking battles, but I want these men found and I want Lucy protected. As Rav said, Lucy is a loose end and if I was them, I’d want her out of the picture, so she couldn’t go running to the pigs. That puts her in danger, and that thought makes white hot rage lance through my chest.
She deserves better than to end up in some shallow grave, her brains blown out. I won’t let that happen. Not on my fucking watch. Not while I’m still breathing.
It’s more than that, though. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve felt something for Lucy from the moment she sassed her mouth off at me in the hospital. I liked her courage, her spunk. I got her number under the guise of using it in case anything happened to Sash or Lily, but I liked knowing I could contact her.
“Have you considered that maybe the boss wasn’t the target,” Titch says. His fingers move through his short black hair in a frustrated movement.
I scoff at the idea. He didn’t see her falling apart, her cries of pain for Hank. He didn’t see her shaking in my arms as she struggled to deal with what she’d seen. “You think Lucy pissed off some fucking gang banger and got targeted?”
Titch grits his teeth at my tone. It’s not often I’m on the wrong side of my brothers, but I feel strongly about this. Lucy is the innocent party here, and I believe her story. Look at what happened to Sasha when she thought no one would believe her. Don’t these fuckers learn anything?
“You that blinded by your fucking cock?” Titch demands.
I see red, anger pulsating through my veins. I shove up from my seat, my chair toppling backwards as I do, my rage flaring. No one reacts as I lean across the table and snag a handful of Titch’s kutte, dragging him up out of his chair. My brothers are used to tempers flaring, though I usually keep mine locked down better than this. Lucy is a sore point for me.
“The fuck you say?”
Titch stares back at me defiantly, not even flinching. He might be smaller than my six-foot-three by a good six inches, but that doesn’t mean he won’t fight me. The fucker packs a punch, too. I’ve been on the receiving end of his fist many times in the ring and worn the bruises to prove it
“Let him go, Nox,” Rav demands.
I curl my lip in a snarl and release him with a shove. He’s right, though, when it comes to Lucy I am blinded, but I don’t see her having this secret life. I’d know if she was lying to me. I grew up in this club, living and breathing the mechanics of it. I’ve seen my share of liars, including my own father, over the years because of it. I’ve dealt with more than enough phony people. I’d know. I’d fucking know.
“Why the fuck would she be involved in anything like that?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Titch scowls at me as he straightens his kutte. “It was just a thought.”
“Yeah, well, keep your thoughts to your-fucking-self.”
I straighten my chair and sink back down into it, my eyes still burning with anger at the brother. I huff out a breath, as my rage shows no sign of subsiding.
The rest of the meeting is spent discussing regular club business, runs we have and shipments that need to go out. I barely listen.
At the end of it, Daimon passes out envelopes with our share of the profits from this month’s takings. It feels thick, which is a sign we had a good month. I tuck mine into my back pocket as I stand.
“Nox,” Rav says my name as I’m preparing to leave the room with the others. I wait leaning on the back of my chair as everyone leaves the chapel. “There something going on with you and Lucy?”
“No, but even if there was it wouldn’t be your fucking business.”
His mouth pulls into a snarl at my tone. “It’s my business when you’re bringing shit to my fucking table.”
He’s right. I force myself to calm down.
“Titch saying that shit pissed me off.”
“I can see.”
“You honestly think Lucy is wrapped up in something bad?” I lean in and snarl in his face, “Maybe you want to remember what happened to the last girl who thought we wouldn’t believe her.”
It’s a low blow, but I make it anyway.
I don’t see the hit coming, but my jaw snaps to the side, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. As I bring my eyes forward, I see Rav standing there like a raging bull, ready to charge.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Rav spits out.
I grind my teeth. “She’s not fucking lying.”
He considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “If you’d kept your mouth shut for a fucking minute, I would have said I agree with you. She ain’t lying. Sash would know. She’d tell me, but she swears Lucy ain’t hiding anything.”
“Then we need to keep digging deeper on the boss. We shake the tree hard enough eventually the fucking nuts will fall out of it.”
I leave church and head back towards the common room, my frustration still rolling through me as I step into the room. It disappears as soon as I set eyes on Lucy sitting in the corner of the room, her eyes locked to her phone as she swipes her fingers over the screen.
She looks beautiful today. Her hair piled on top of her head has come loose, strands dangling down and her makeup-free face looks fresh. She’s still wearing my clothes, although it’s a fresh pair of joggers and a tee. I like it more than I should.
I head straight for the table and she glances up as I come to stand beside her.
“Hey,” she says, her voice soft. “Is there any chance we can take a trip to my place today? I need clothes, supplies.”
“No.”
“Nox—”
“If these fuckers know who you are, they’ll be waiting for someone to turn up at your place. Can’t risk them following one of us back here.”
Her brow furrows at my words. “So, I’m stuck here indefinitely?”
“Until we sort this shit out, yeah.” She huffs out a breath. “Are we that bad?” I ask her with a twitch of my mouth.
Her head snaps up and her mouth parts slightly. “No. Of course not. I just… I would love to get back to normality. I really appreciate what the Sons are doing for me.”
I don’t like how small her voice is when she says that, like she doesn’t think she’s worthy of our help.
“Any news on the shooters?” she continues, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
I track the movement, my cock twitching. Having her this close without being able to touch her is torture. My need for her is so intense it catches my breath in the back of my throat, and although her words tell me she’s not interested, her body tells me differently. I can see the way she leans into me, even subconsciously, the little darts of her tongue as she wets her dry lips, the way her cheeks are flushed and the desire in her eyes. She wants me, but she’s holding herself back. She should. I’m not a good man. I don’t deserve someone as good as Lucy, but I want her.
I shake my head. “Nothing but dead ends. Can’t find a single speck of dirt on your boss.”
I watch her carefully, looking for any signs of the lies Titch seems to think she’s telling. My eyes scan her face, but I don’t see anything. Relief washes over me. I didn’t think she was lying, but that little seed of doubt is hard to uproot once it’s planted.
“So, what do we do next?”
“Keep digging.” I grab her hand, her soft warm skin scraping over my calloused palms. I like the feel of her against me. “We’ll keep you safe, Lucy. I swear.”
“I wish you weren’t tied up in my mess.”
“That’s what family does. Looks after each other.”
She
peers at me, her long lashes making her blue eyes seem bolder. “Is that how you see me? Family?”
“There’s nothing familial in how I see you, sweetheart.”
My pointed words have her swallowing hard and heat rises in her cheeks. She glances down at her hands in her lap. “Nox—”
I don’t let her finish. I can’t. I refuse to believe that she doesn’t want me the same way I want her. I can see the longing, the need in her eyes.
And I’m done waiting for her to play catch up.
I dip my head and capture her mouth. She tastes sweet, and I wonder what she’s been eating or drinking. For a moment, she stiffens, then her spine melts and she sags into my arms as I lick along the seam of her lips. Triumph roars through me as she opens to me and I suck her tongue into my mouth.
Lucy makes a little moan that makes my cock harden in my jeans. I want her. I’ve wanted her sassy mouth from the moment I laid eyes on her, and while I probably shouldn’t have taken her like this, now I’ve tasted her there’s no going back.
7
Lucy
Nox is kissing me. I should pull away, I should make him stop, but part of me doesn’t want him to. Knowing I’m wanted by someone other than Isaac is a heady feeling. He told me for years I was worthless, that everyone would find me wanting. Those words scored me deeply, creating scars I thought could never heal, but I’m seeing the lies shining through the clouds.
Nox wants me.
I see it in his heated eyes, in the way they trail over my face as if he thinks I’m a precious gemstone.
I want to bottle this feeling, but right now I’m focused on the fact that he’s kissing me senseless.
I feel dizzied as he continues to devour my mouth, taking, needing more from me. I want to deliver, even though I’m scared of getting too close. This really isn’t the time to embark on anything with a biker, especially one as dangerous as Nox. I can’t get close to anyone, but as his fingers move into the back of my hair, tangling in the strands, all sense goes out of the window.
