Gah. Salad. Rabbit food. Like he was going to sit here and eat a steak while she ate that shit.
Yeah, he hadn’t been lying about his hatred for anything green. Not that she’d get away with not eating healthily. There were plenty of green things in her future.
He had a total double-standard and he wasn’t going to apologize for it. Just like he wasn’t going to apologize for not letting her make her own decision about what to eat for dinner. While she was big, she could always decide for herself what to eat.
As long as it was something he approved of.
Yes, he was a caveman.
And no, he didn’t fucking care.
Ink had learned a long time ago that he wasn’t going to apologize for the messed-up ass that he could be. Luckily, he had plenty of redeeming qualities. Like what he could do with his tongue. His fingers. His mouth.
So she’d ended up with an oven-baked chicken breast along with some grilled vegetables while his plate held a steak about as big as his face.
Perfect.
She pushed her plate away with a sigh, rubbing her tummy. He eyed the mostly full plate but decided against saying anything. Yet.
But her diet was something he was going to address eventually.
“You want another drink, brown eyes?”
She’d nearly finished her white wine. He’d stuck to soda in case she needed him to drive her home. While he usually had a one-beer allowance when he was driving, he wouldn’t even drink that much if she was in the car.
Precious cargo.
“Oh no, thank you. Truth is, I feel a bit tipsy just from that one drink.”
“You’re not driving home then. I can take you. Or I can see you into a taxi.”
“I…that…” She leaned up and shocked the shit out of him by kissing him. It wasn’t normal for her to make the first move. But he soon got over his surprise and returned the kiss. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, holding her there as he tasted her, drank from her, as her scent wrapped around him.
His dick, which had only just calmed down from when he’d been fingering her, hardened, pressing against his jeans.
When he finally allowed her to draw back, her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen.
“What was that for? Not that I didn’t like it. Hell, you can kiss me anytime you like, but it’s not usual for you to…” Shit. He was rambling. He took a deep breath then reached for his glass of water.
“I…I…just wanted to know,” she muttered weirdly.
“Know what?”
“What it would be like to do that. You’re a good man, Ink. I think you might be the best man I’ve ever met.”
“Because I offered to drive you home?” What kind of assholes had she known in her life?
Plenty, he was guessing, if any of them had put that sadness in her eyes. Had made her shy away from others' touch.
He hated that. That she’d been hurt in the past.
“Brown eyes, any decent man would offer to see you home safe.”
“But there aren’t a lot of decent men out there, are there?” she mused. “At least not from what I’ve seen.”
“I’d trust any of my friends with your safety. They’re decent men. They give their word, they mean it.”
“Your friends in your biker gang.”
“We’re a motorcycle club. The Iron Shadows.”
“Interesting name. How did you become a part of them?”
He shrugged. “After I was discharged from the Special Forces, I was kind of lost. I was useless to them.”
“Useless?”
Christ. He had opened this can of worms. Was he really going to talk to her about it? “I was stationed in Afghanistan. We…there was a village. The enemy had gone through it.” He swallowed at the memories. She reached over and took his hand in hers. Her hand was as cool as ever, but it was what he needed right then. To bring him back to the here and now.
“What we didn’t know was that there were insurgents waiting for us. They’d staged it. Took out half of my team. I had this bad feeling before we went in. But I was young and nobody thought my instinct meant anything at all. Between what I’d seen of the bodies of the villagers and losing our team members, I must have gone on a rampage. Don’t remember much. Lost it apparently. Got myself an honorable discharge. Apparently, I was lucky to get that. Yeah, lucky to come home with PTSD and a head filled with nightmares.”
“Oh, Ink.” She laid her face against his shoulder.
“Shit. That took a dark turn, didn’t it?” He tried to lighten his voice.
“You don’t always have to make things right for me, you know.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to try to make things better. I know you do that. My fault. Because of the way I am. I know I don’t always react well to things. Touch. Loud noises. Lara getting punished.” She grinned at him. “But I can handle the dark stuff. Trust me, I’ve lived through enough dark to be able to find my way through it.”
“What other dark stuff have you lived through, brown eyes?”
Shit.
What to tell him?
Well, obviously she couldn’t tell him about Rex or Forrest. Not here. She didn’t think there were ears on them in the booth, but she couldn’t risk it.
“When I was four, my daddy told me he was going to the store to buy me a dolly. It was this doll I’d wanted for so long. I was quite obnoxious about how much I wanted her. She had this beautiful red-blonde hair and the prettiest dress with lace around the bottom of it.
“I was so happy. I waited for hours for him to return. Mama finally had to force me into bed. If I think about it now, I can remember the pinched look on her face, the smell of Scotch on her breath. Mama didn’t drink Scotch. It was unbecoming of a lady to get sloshed, so the most she ever had was a civilized glass of wine with dinner.”
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly.
“As you may have guessed, he never came back.”
“Baby…”
“I just never understood why he said he was going to get that doll, you know? Why did he not just kiss me goodbye and go? Why promise me something that made me think he was going to return?”
“Fucking asshole,” he grumbled, dragging her against his chest. She snuggled into him. The hurt was an old one. And of all the things that had happened to her, this one should be the least painful.
But it wasn’t. It still hurt. It still had the power to unravel her.
He ran his hand up and down her back. He didn’t say anything. Just held her. Human contact was something she hadn’t had in a long time before Ink. And she hadn’t realized how much she had craved it.
“Mama was never an easy person. She was strict. She had high standards. But after he left, she kind of fell apart. She stopped getting out of bed, getting dressed, even eating. I was so confused. I was only four. Then one day we ran out of food in the house and I must have got hungry so I left the house and went to the neighbors. I guess I must have looked a sight. Because I got sent off to my grandmother’s house. She was just as strict as Mama was, but at least I got fed and washed and watched over. Eventually, I went back home. Mama was different after that. She never smiled anymore. She picked at everything I did. Her lessons were harsh and never-ending.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Sounds like your childhood ended the day he walked out of your life.”
“Yeah. Guess that’s about right. There were better times. Sometimes she’d find a decent man. They’d start dating. And for a while, she’d be happy. She’d smile. But eventually, they’d leave and she’d grow depressed again.”
“Fuck, brown eyes. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s nothing like what happened to you…”
“Hey.” He tilted up her chin, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “Not a competition, okay? And for what it’s worth, I think your dad was a damn idiot for walking out on you. For missing out on the beautiful, amazing, kind woman you are.”
; “I…I…I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Brown eyes?” He gave her a worried look. She didn’t blame him. She knew she had to sound half-crazed.
“Please, let me go to the bathroom.”
“Of course.” He moved out of the booth and she shot out before he could reach around and help her. She raced towards the bathroom without looking back. The panic attack was clawing at her.
She couldn’t give in. Not yet.
She stumbled her way into the bathroom, grateful to see that it was empty. She gripped hold of one of the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror.
Hating the image that stared back at her.
Liar. Liar. Liar.
She wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t sweet. Or kind.
She was scum.
Falling to her knees, she let out a sob. She couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not here. Not now. But she also knew she couldn’t continue with this date.
He had to know the truth.
She was the worst sort of person. And she didn’t deserve him.
* * *
Ink knew something was wrong. He just had no damn idea what.
He paced up and down outside the bathroom door.
Fuck it.
He was going in. If someone’s sensibilities got disturbed by his presence in the women’s bathroom, well he…
He simply didn’t give a fuck.
Striding in, he found her digging around in her handbag. Her gaze shot up to his.
She’d never looked so disheveled. So lost. Confusion filled her face as she looked around. “Did I come into the men’s bathroom?”
“No, babe.” He moved carefully forward, as though approaching something fragile and yet volatile. “Brown eyes, what’s wrong?”
A bark of humorless laughter escaped her. Then she closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Before she straightened up.
He was seriously worried about her. He thought about snatching her up and carrying her out to his truck, but he was concerned that might upset her further.
He didn’t give a shit about the rest of the people in the restaurant and their reaction.
Betsy was his.
He’d take care of her as he saw fit.
If only he knew what the hell was wrong.
“Brown eyes, what’s going on?”
She slid closer. Wrapped herself around him. “I’m so sorry. Bringing up all that stuff, it was harder than I thought. I have a headache. I think I better just go home.”
“I’ll take you,” he said immediately. A headache? That wasn’t what this was about.
Damn it. He wanted to force her to talk to him.
“I appreciate it. But I have a car coming for me.” She slid her hand into his back pocket, squeezing his ass. Then she leaned up to whisper in his ear.
“I wasn’t lying about it all. I’m so sorry.”
He frowned as she moved away from him. “Betsy!”
Turning, he strode towards the door. Only when he stepped outside, he couldn’t see her anywhere. Where the fuck was she?
How did she leave so quickly?
And what did she mean she wasn’t lying about it all? What had she lied about?
* * *
She didn’t know how she managed to hold it together. She kept her face lowered as she slid into the back of the car.
“Dinner ended early.”
Shoot. It wasn’t Ranulf but Kit behind the wheel.
Stupid. Betsy. Stupid.
“I have a headache.”
He snorted. “That’s not gonna cut it with the boss and you know it. Play the game smart, Betsy. You’ve got a lot to lose. Don’t give Forrest an excuse to hurt you.”
The threat was clear. It sat like a lead bullet in her stomach.
Was that what men always did? Hurt you?
Except Ink. Sure, he’d spanked her, disciplined her, he could be strict.
But he’d never hurt her. Never taken advantage of her. He’d taken care of her.
Except now Ink was gone. She’d never see him again.
11
Ink was striding back and forth across his office as everyone arrived. He gave Duke a questioning look when he entered with Sunny.
“We were on our way home when I got your message,” Duke explained. “It seemed urgent enough to just turn round and bring her with me.”
“I can wait in the foyer,” Sunny offered.
He shook his head, still unable to form words without roaring his fury to the world.
“How come we’re meeting here?” Reyes asked in a deceptively calm voice.
Ink knew it would have pissed their president off to be basically summoned here. He liked to have the position of power. But then, it didn’t matter where the asshole was, he commanded pretty much any space.
“Because this place has better security than the club.”
Anger was a fire in his veins. Fury thrummed through him. Relentless. An itch had developed across his skin that he couldn’t seem to scratch.
He wished he could take care of this by himself. He didn’t want the rest of them knowing what a fucking idiot he was.
She’d taken him for a ride.
Made a fool of him.
He’d wanted her. She’d seemingly been everything he desired.
And it had all been a lie.
It wasn’t until he’d gotten home and was undressing, while trying to figure out how the night had turned into a clusterfuck, that he’d found the note she’d tucked into his pocket.
“Ink?” Sunny asked, moving from where Duke had her settled in his lap to walk over to him. She laid her hand on his arm. He saw Duke tense but the ass should know he’d never hurt Sunny. It was a well-known fact he cared about her.
Hell, he didn’t sit for a tea party with just anyone.
You did for Betsy.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the note. He handed it over to Reyes, knowing the other man would want to read it first.
He had more control issues than the rest of them put together.
The other man stared at it with a frown. “What the fuck is this?” Reyes snapped.
“What it looks like,” Ink snarled back.
“You gonna let the rest of the class know what’s going on?” Razor drawled, sitting back in his chair and giving them both a knowing look.
Reyes held up the note. “You’re being set up to take the fall for Senator Robins’ murder. There are eyes and ears everywhere. Be careful. Please don’t hate me. It wasn’t all a lie.”
Sunny sucked in a breath and Duke reached out, drawing her back into his arms.
“Who wrote this?” Reyes asked.
“Her name’s Betsy,” Ink said. This next part was gonna be hard. If there was one thing he hated, it was looking like a fool. “Met her at Fringe. I should have known the whole thing was a set-up. There’s no way Angus would ask me to mentor a new sub. I need to speak to him. Find out what he knows.”
“I don’t know,” Razor told him. “You’ve got a soft spot for women. You’re protective and gentle with them. He could do a lot worse than asking you.”
Ink ground his teeth together. “Appreciate the pep-talk, but obviously my soft-spot for women is a weakness that I need to work on.”
Sunny made a distressed noise and he turned to her, giving her a smile. “Not you, Sunny-girl. You’ll always be my first love.” He winked at her while Duke gave a fake growl.
Sunny still looked sad.
Ink ran his hand over his face then sat in his chair. “She wasn’t even my type. I don’t know what I was drawn to about her. Maybe it was because she was a Little. Or I thought she was a Little. Guess that was faked too.”
“Tell us,” Reyes urged.
He quickly summarized their nights at Fringe.
“Then tonight we went on a date. Our first one. Everything was going well,” he spat out, “then something happened and she rushed to the bathroom, upset. I followed her inside. She hugged me and told me she was sorry and that not everyt
hing was a lie then she fled.”
“What upset her?” Sunny asked.
“She told me something about how her father left when she was young. Probably all lies. Then I told her how beautiful and kind she was and how that asshole fucked up leaving her. She nearly burst into tears. She never cries, not even when I spank her…”
There was silence and he looked around. Whoops. He hadn’t meant to divulge that much.
“So obviously, I’ve been an idiot and taken for a ride. Found this note in my pocket when I got home.”
“I don’t understand,” Sunny finally said. “How can you be set up for the senator’s death when we know that…” she trailed off, not wanting to say it.
That the Fox murdered the senator.
“The note said he’s being set-up for the senator’s murder. So my guess is whoever is behind this wanted to plant some evidence that makes it look like Ink killed him,” Spike said. “And likely were using Betsy to do it.”
Ink nodded. It’s what he figured too.
“But you all have alibis,” Sunny protested. “The Fox made sure of it.”
“Except for me,” Ink stated.
They all looked at one another.
“You have an alibi,” Duke told him.
The cops had got some grainy images off one of the neighbor’s security cameras of Jason and Razor outside the senator’s house. They’d been suspicious, but they’d had nothing to go on.
Ink’s alibi wasn’t as good as the others, though.
“I clocked in here and I appear on the camera briefly. But that could be picked apart. And even though Brody saw me here, he spent most of the time in a different office from me.”
Brody was his tech specialist.
“Have you got Brody looking into this Betsy?” Duke asked.
“Called him before I called any of you. He’s in his office now, doing a background check on her.”
God knows what he would find.
“Why would anyone set you up for the murder?” Sunny asked.
“Maybe it’s whoever hired the Fox,” Spike mused. “But why bother? The Fox isn’t going to give him up. And the cops have no idea that the Fox even killed the senator.”
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