Irrevocable (The Exiled Eight MC Book 1)

by Addison Jane

  “The same thing that always happens,” Caleb called after us as we walked toward the door. “Good wins, bad loses.”

  “We’ll see.”

  DAKOTA

  “Come on pipsqueak, I’m hangry,” my brother jested as he directed me inside the restaurant and approached the waitress waiting with menus. Austin held up three fingers causing me to frown, but before I could say anything or question him, we were following her through the maze of tables to the opposite end of the room.

  Eyes watched us, but we both ignored the way people stared. Everyone knew that a police uniform turned heads. You got used to it. Especially when your father had been the chief of police since you were little, and your brother had followed in his footsteps the moment he left high school.

  “You’re not cool just because you use the word hangry, Austin,” I scoffed as we finally stopped at a square table, and I slipped into a chair by the wall. There were eight years between my brother and me, and I liked to remind him of that fact as often as possible. Which happened to be just as often as he liked to remind me of how short I was.

  Our relationship basically revolved around who could get in the cheapest shots. It had always been that way, but it had never taken away from the love we had for each other. I could tease and torment him until the cows came home, but God help anyone else who even tried.

  Austin pulled out the chair next to me as the waitress dumped some menus and skipped off again like she had better places to be.

  He dropped into his seat, his body obviously tired and aching. His nose screwed up as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. “I’m cool. I’ll use the word hangry if I want to use the word hangry,” he threw back with a lazy smirk.

  “Stop trying to make hangry happen, it’s not going to happen.” He chuckled, while I somehow managed to hold a straight face, fighting the urge to high five myself for the epic Mean Girls reference. “Also, did I miss something? Why are you sitting beside me? There’s like… a whole other half of the table and you choose to steal part of mi—”

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

  The moment I heard his voice, my entire body tensed. I couldn’t even look at him as he took the seat opposite me—the obvious reason why my brother had held up three fingers to the waitress, and why he’d chosen the seat beside me.

  Caleb, the drunken bachelor.

  The same guy I’d almost circumcised with a bullet two weekends ago.

  And by the smug look on his face, this wasn’t a coincidence.

  “It’s all good, man, we haven’t even ordered yet,” Austin answered while his eyes stayed on me, judging my reaction to the unwelcome visitor. “Dee, this is Caleb Corrigan. He’s new to the city, working closely with the gang department on some of the activity in the city.”

  Things were beginning to fall into place.

  I could see the puzzle pieces clicking together, one by one.

  “Hey, Dakota,” Caleb started with that smooth, sexy tone that on most people I imagine felt like velvet across their body. But for me, it was more like someone clawing at my skin with their fingernails. I gritted my teeth, my fingers tugging at the edge of the tablecloth as I tried my best not to rip it from the table and wrap it around Caleb’s neck.

  “Your brother talks about you, a lot.”

  I didn’t answer.

  I refused to fucking acknowledge the smug bastard.

  The restaurant was busy, but there was this awkward bubble of silence that settled around us.

  Austin cleared his throat. “So anyway… Caleb’s going to be a huge player in helping us finally take down some of the gangs in the city.”

  Caleb’s head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. “Hell, yeah. You know the type. The gangsters, the gang bangers, the MC—”

  “Motorcycle clubs are not gangs,” I argued, sitting a little straighter.

  My outburst delighted him. I could see it in his eyes. He fucking loved the fact he knew how to push my buttons. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. You work for them, don’t you? The Brothers by Blood, is it?”

  I needed to find out what the fuck was going on here.

  “Yes, I do. They’re great people,” I answered through clenched teeth.

  “Hmmm…” Caleb murmured, leaning back in his seat as if we were having some casual conversation about the weather. “Great people whose vice president managed to murder a sheriff in Alabama and then get off the charges. Great people, whose current president has been to jail when he was younger for murdering his father?”

  I tried not to let his last accusation surprise me. I’d known Shotgun for a long time now. He was honest and dedicated. What he did in his past is a part of who he is, it doesn’t define who he is.

  Caleb was picking a fight. But I wasn’t taking the bait.

  Austin though, he was. He was watching intently, his eyes narrowed as he listened to this information that I guess he hadn’t gone looking for.

  I inhaled deeply and forced a smile. “If that’s how you feel, I’m sorry,” I offered politely. “But they have been nothing but kind and supportive of me since I can remember, so we will have to agree to disagree.”

  It wasn’t often I walked away from a fight, but this was one I refused to have in front of Austin. He already had a view about the club and its owners, and while it wasn’t exactly positive, meeting Meyah had swayed his decision slightly.

  Austin cleared his throat loudly to try and break some of the tension swirling. “I’m gonna go to the bar and get a drink,” he finally offered, getting to his feet. “Y’all want anything?”

  “Beer,” Caleb responded.

  “Tequila.”

  Austin screwed up his nose at my request and pursed his lips, but turned away and headed for the bar across the room. And when I knew he was finally out of air shot, I finally let loose.

  “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing here?” I demanded in a low but deadly voice. I pressed my palms down on the table and leaned in so I knew he could fucking hear me.

  The corner of his mouth curled upward, and his brows pulled in telling me exactly what I needed to know. This was a setup. I was fucking dropped in the deep end and now it was up to me to get myself to the edge of the pool before I drowned.

  “Really? That’s how things are going to be?” he asked with a raised brow. Just the casual tone in his voice made me want to reach across the table and punch him in the throat. “I really thought we had something during that first meeting. We could have really connected.”

  “The only connection I’d like to make with you is one where my fist connects with your nose,” I scoffed, my lip curling in disgust. “What’s your angle here?”

  He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Like I told your brother. I want to work with him to help destroy the filth and rubbish around here. And because you couldn’t help but be a fucking bitch, you’ve just put your friends to the top of that list.”

  I felt fucking sick.

  I couldn’t tell if he was just trying to make me feel like this was all my fault.

  Or, if it actually was.

  Either way, I was responsible, and as I’d already discovered, Caleb was one of those men who went for what he wanted and fought to capture it, hold it, and effectively destroy it. With both hands around its throat.

  “You were never actually drunk that night. And let me guess, it wasn’t actually your bachelor party either,” I responded folding my arms across my chest and leaning back in my chair. My foot was bouncing nervously under the table, my stomach twisting into knots. I kept looking over to the bar where my brother was waiting for our drinks wondering how I was going to talk my way out of this without making him too suspicious.

  Caleb tilted his head to either side, stretching his neck. “No. I just wanted to see what the club was like, whether it was worth my time to look into the MC, how they handled shit, whether it looked like there was anything suspect happening behind the scenes.�
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  “They aren’t like that,” I argued through clenched teeth.

  “Doesn’t matter now whether they are or they aren’t.”

  “It should.”

  “So naïve.” His eyes flashed. It was like an electric current shot out of them and went right up my spine, forcing my body to sit a little straighter, and my muscles to tense.

  This was all about arrogance.

  It was about power.

  And when he came at me that night, I took that power away from him. And then the boys in the club, they stood on my side. They backed me. And he looked like a fucking idiot.

  “Fuck yo—”

  “Are you sure Tequila is what you want?” Austin interrupted with a frown. He carefully placed two large glasses of beer and a small shot glass with a wedge of lemon on the side onto the table. I didn’t waste a second, licking my hand, snatching up the salt shaker and depositing a generous amount out.

  Before my brother could say anything else, I licked the salt, threw back the contents of the shot glass and shoved almost the entire lemon wedge in my mouth. It soothed the intense burn but only slightly because I still cringed. My nose wrinkled up, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I frantically sucked the lemon dry, all while trying to breathe through my nose. In and out while the potent alcohol made its way down to my stomach and seeped into my bloodstream.

  I was just about to spit the lemon out and ask for about five more of those in order to make it through the night when my brain flashed with a brilliant idea. I quickly dug around in my pocket for my cell phone as my brother and asshole started to chat between themselves. Holding it below the table so they couldn’t see, I hit dial on Meyah’s number, letting it ring a couple times before hanging up and slipping it back in my pocket. Almost instantly, my obnoxiously loud ringtone trilled through the air around us, making everyone within a twenty-foot radius cringe. Delightfully, I whipped it out of my pocket.

  Swiping the answer key on my phone, I quickly put it to my ear. “Meyah!”

  “Did you just ring me? It only rang like three times, I didn’t even have time to get off the—”

  I gasped dramatically. “Oh my gosh, when did that happen? Are you okay?”

  “… couch. Uhh… yeah, I’m okay? Are you okay? You called m—”

  “No, it’s fine.” Standing up from the table, I tried to force a really concerned face. “Austin has a friend here, so he won’t be alone. I’ll meet you outside.”

  “Um… Dakota, what the hell are yo—”

  I quickly hung up and shoved the phone back in my pocket knowing Meyah would probably call back in a moment to ask me if I’d lost my damn mind, or if I was on some kind of drugs, so I needed to get out of there quickly. “I’m so sorry. That was Meyah. She’s really upset… something about family back home. She really needs me, and she’s already on her way.” I rattled on trying to avoid eye contact with Austin. The moment he started to examine me too closely, he’d know instantly that I was lying.

  I had no doubt in my mind that Caleb already knew.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped to the side of the table and finally glanced down at my brother, who was looking up at me with a worried and almost suspicious frown.

  Fuck, he’s going to call me out.

  Just when I thought I was going to have to do some serious explaining, he shook his head. “I told you, Dee. Meyah’s a sweet girl, you know I like her, but you really need to keep your distance when it comes to her family and her boyfriend. Those clubs she’s associated with are bad news.”

  I tried not to take a relieved breath. He was concerned about me hanging out with the club, not about the fact that I was pulling a bullshit story right out of my fucking ass.

  “What club?” Caleb asked casually as if he didn’t already know what the fuck I was talking about, or who Meyah was.

  I wanted to kick him in the balls, but my brother was looking at him like he was some kind of hero. I guess it was understandable. Austin was all bad guys versus good guys. You’re either with us or against us. He cared about making the city safer. And Caleb was right there with him, egging him on, playing to what he loves.

  It made me feel sick.

  Stepping around the table, I leaned in and pressed a kiss to my brother’s cheek, placing my hands on his shoulders as I pulled back and looked him directly in the eye. “It’s okay, I can handle it,” I assured him. So far, he’d left it alone, but made clear he didn’t like me spending time at the clubhouse or working at Empire.

  I guess I had to appreciate that he had enough faith in me to believe I could do it.

  I loved him for that.

  When my cell began to ring again, I quickly said goodbye, ignoring Caleb the asshole and rushing out the front doors before answering, “Meyah, I need you to come get me, now.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked quickly. I could already hear her moving around, the jiggle of her car keys, and her footsteps on the staircase as she ran down.

  “Yeah, I’m okay, I just need out of here. My brother brought a surprise guest to dinner, I’m at Sullivans.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you in a couple minutes.”

  The phone went dead, and I inhaled deeply as I slipped around the side of the building to the parking lot out the back to wait for Meyah. The club was a handful of blocks from here, but while I could have just walked or whatever, my stomach was twisting and turning so tightly, I was struggling to keep my shit together.

  I wished I’d grabbed another shot.

  “Hiding?”

  I jumped, my heart leaping up into my throat as Caleb rounded the corner with a pompous looking smile. His fingers adjusted the cuffs on the expensive looking suit he wore. I wanted to taunt him, poke fun at how he must not be good enough to wear an actual police uniform, about how it was good he didn’t, given he would disrespect it anyway.

  Instead, I decided right now was probably not the best time to poke the beast.

  I was vulnerable.

  And he’d come out here looking for a fight.

  “Waiting for my ride,” I ground out, grasping my cellphone in my hand like it was my lifeline.

  “You know, Dakota, my offer still stands,” he drawled, reaching out and tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear before taking a step closer. “You want a ride? I’ll happily give you one.”

  My hand moved before I could even think about what I was doing, my palm connecting with his cheek and throwing his face to the side. The sound resonated in the large open space and even out into the small forest that sat out the back of Sullivan’s Bar. “You’re a piece of shit,” I spat. It took a moment, but the sting on my palm began to throb.

  Caleb recovered quickly and before I could scream, he had one hand pressed against my mouth and the other around my wrist. He squeezed it tightly, and I let out a small whimper which he apparently didn’t like because he shoved my head back against the brick building, the sharp thud not enough to knock me out, but enough to send excruciating pain radiating throughout my body.

  “Don’t be a bitch, Dakota,” he warned in a whisper. “I told you before I’d make an example out of you. You should learn to take me more seriously.”

  His hand slowly came away from my mouth, and I took a deep breath, just as the sound of a motorcycle roared in the distance.

  Caleb’s ears pricked up like a little dog, and he backed away.

  Coward.

  “All man when we’re alone but can’t face a biker?” I taunted, trying to keep focus with my eyes while my head thumped and thumped painfully with the beat of my heart. My words were slurring slightly, but I couldn’t help but get one last kick in. “You’re pathetic.”

  His lip curled as he stepped back toward the edge of the building and the front doors to the bar. “And you’re done.”

  He disappeared back around the corner, and as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

  But I knew it wasn’t forever.

  This shit had just begun.

  If this w
as what he was like when my brother—a police officer—was only feet away inside, then I knew this wasn’t the worst.

  Things were going to get bad before they got better.

  I just wasn’t sure how bad.

  Or if they would ever get any better.

  RIPLEY

  “That was cheating,” I protested when Lauren bumped the pool table with her hip and her ball which had been balancing precariously on the edge dropped down into the pocket.

  She held her hands up in surrender, but she didn’t disagree.

  I grumbled under my breath as I made my way around the other side of the table, searching for a good shot so I could get this game the hell over with. I carefully lined it up, and with one shot, inched two balls into two different pockets. “When are you heading home?” I asked, taking a step back and eyeing the table a little better.

  She shifted from one foot to the other, and I looked over at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know. When are you heading back?”

  This dance she was trying to do with me, it wasn’t working in her favor. I didn’t know this girl. This wasn’t the girl I grew up with. The Lauren I knew wasn’t shy or embarrassed about things, she didn’t hang around waiting for someone to tell her what the hell to do.

  “No problem, I’ll see you in a couple of minutes,” Meyah announced into her cell as she jogged down the stairs, her keys in her hand. It was the worried frown on her face which made me dump the pool stick in my hand and head straight for her.

  “My dad thoug—”

  “Hold that thought.” I was already jogging over to my sister before she could make it to the door. I grabbed her elbow and spun her back toward me. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  She huffed. “I’ve gotta go, Rip. Dakota called and said she needs me to pick her up right now, and she sounded really stressed.”

  I dipped my head and looked her in the eye. “Like she’s had a bad day stressed or like she could be in trouble stressed?” My stomach was already tightening at the thought of either. I couldn’t even explain why if someone asked. How do you explain that some little pixie girl who’s constantly teasing and tormenting you, has somehow buried their way inside your skin and set up camp?