HANDS OFF MY WIFE_Black Cossacks MC

by Claire St. Rose

  I held tight onto the armrests on the chair. “No,” I said, my voice quiet at first. I didn't flinch or let myself seem rattled in any way though, and for that, I was proud. “No, I won't meet you for dinner. And what you're proposing here is not only wildly inappropriate, it's also highly illegal.”

  “Come on, Abbie,” Jack said, standing up and placing both hands on his desk. He hovered above me now, his voice loud and domineering. Jack was used to getting his way – but he wasn't going to get it this time. “Do you really want to lose your job over this?”

  I couldn't lose my job, I needed it. PR jobs in our coastal town weren't plentiful, and that's all I knew how to do. If Jack made good on his threat to fire me, I might have to move or consider working two part-time jobs just to get by. There was a knot in my stomach that was twisting painfully at the mere thought of losing my job, but I couldn't sleep with Jack. I wouldn't There was no way I could do that and live with myself afterward. I stood up, too, but he still loomed over me. Shaking my head, I didn't say another word. I merely walked to the door, in silence, before turning toward him. “Please don't make me do this, Jack,” I said. “Don't force me into this kind of decision.”

  “I'm not making you do anything, Abbie. The choice is all yours.”

  Yep. I had no choice. I had to walk out.

  “Just so you know, I'm not quitting. I'm just turning down your dinner invitation,” I said. “I refuse to have sex with you in order to get a promotion and I just pray you'll do the right thing.”

  I walked out of his office, closing the door behind me. My heart was racing and I needed some fresh air. I couldn't stay in this place, not after what happened. I needed to get outside, and fast. I rushed toward the elevator and pressed the button, stabbing at it with my finger over and over again. But after ten seconds of standing there, I thought it was still taking too long.

  “Come on, come on,” I said, looking behind me, partly worried that Jack might be following me.

  I wouldn't put it past him, but I breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the hallway was empty and I was alone. For now. He was probably back in his office still recovering from the shock of being turned down. When the elevator still didn't come thirty seconds later, I rushed toward the stairway. We were only on the second floor; I could walk down before the elevator got here.

  I didn't walk, however, I ran. And when I hit the bottom floor and pushed open the door to the outside, I felt so much better. With the warmth of the sun, the slight breeze, and fresh air, some of that grimy, greasy residue Jack had left on me began to fade. Taking a deep breath, I walked across the parking lot toward my car. I'd run back to the restaurant, get my purse and come back. I'd try to pull myself together, put all of this behind me and get back to work. Hopefully I'd still have a job when I got back.

  Footsteps behind me caused me to turn, and just as I did, Jack's hand clamped onto my arm. He squeezed and it felt like my arm had been caught in an iron vice. It hurt and I squealed.

  “Jack, please – ” I screamed, trying to pull myself away from him.

  But he was too strong. He pulled me toward him, our bodies touching, his face inches from mine. “No, you listen to me, Abbie. No one – and I mean no one – turns me down like that, you hear me? If you need this job so fucking badly, and I know you do – ”

  I struggled against his grip, but it was no use. He was simply too strong and was easily overpowering me. The sound of tires skidding on the road caught us both off guard, but it wasn't until I saw King's face and saw him pulling Jack away from me that I realized what was happening.

  “Who the fuck are you?” King spat, holding Jack up by the throat.

  Jack's words were garbled, so I answered for him.

  “He's my boss,” I said quietly.

  King looked over at me, his eyes softening. “And did you want him touching you like that, Abbie?”

  “You know this guy?” Jack asked, choking on his words.

  “No,” I said, answering King and ignoring Jack. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to explain what had happened. “He followed me out here – after I – ” But I couldn't force myself to say the words.

  King swung back, punching my boss hard across the face. My eyes went wide and my mouth formed an “o” as I listened to the sound of bone crunching beneath King's massive, powerful fist.

  “No, King. Don't – ” I said, grabbing King by the arm, but it was too late. He punched Jack again before I could stop him.

  “Don't you ever lay a hand on her – or any woman – like that again, jackass.”

  “Please, King!” I shouted, pulling on his arm.

  There was something in his eyes in that moment – it was a pure hatred and rage solely for Jack that made him seem terrifying. But when he turned and looked at me, his faced changed back, and he was the same old King again.

  “If he ever touches you again,” he said loud enough that Jack could hear, “you let me know and I'll kill him for you.”

  “You don't – ” I started to say, but King stopped me, talking directly to Jack.

  “You got that? I will fucking kill you. Don't think I won't.”

  Jack nodded, tears mixing with the blood that was streaming down his face. Jack's body trembled and he looked like he might throw up. He was scared. Truly scared. And I couldn't help but feel some small sense of satisfaction about that.

  King let Jack's limp body fall to the ground, shaking his head. “Fucking piece of trash,” he said, spitting on Jack.

  That's when I noticed something hanging from King's arm. My purse. The one I left at the restaurant. He'd brought it back for me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KING

  I'd only meant to drive by and give Abbie her purse, maybe get one last look at her, but that was it. I figured she worked nearby and after talking to Luna at the restaurant, I managed to figure out where her PR firm was located. Just drive by, drop off her purse, nothing else, I told myself. She'd made it clear that she didn't want anything to do with me and I intended to honor that. As much as I thought it sucked and I didn't like it, I had to respect her wishes. That had been the plan, at least.

  The plan changed the moment I saw that piece of shit in her face, though. When I saw him grab her and shake her, I lost it. Something in my mind shut down and all I could think about was killing him. I didn't kill him, of course, but God knew I wanted to. The scared look in Abbie's eyes made me want to hurt him so bad – but she'd begged me to stop. And only because of her, because she'd asked me to, did I stop myself from beating the shit out of him – maybe even from killing him.

  “King, wait – ” she called after me as I rushed away.

  I shot a look back toward the man who'd had his hands on Abbie, “Remember what I said. I will kill you next time.”

  “King – ” Abbie called out.

  But she couldn't walk as fast as I could. And before she could say whatever it was she wanted to say, I was on my bike, riding off down the street, leaving her in the dust. I'd handed her the purse and I was out of there. She didn't want to see me anymore, I'd obey her wishes. After all, if I forced myself on her, I was no different than the asshole in the parking lot.

  But man, when I saw his hands on her – I thought back and couldn't remember a time I'd ever been so angry before. They say you see red when you're that pissed off, but I blacked out for a minute. Lost control. Never before had a woman caused such an instant and violent emotional response in me. Never before had I let myself get this crazy over a woman.

  She'd told me to stay away, though. And I'd planned to do as she asked. I pulled into the clubhouse just as Roy was walking out.

  “'bout time,” he said, his usual joking tone missing this time. His face was always a bit rough, but this time, his eyes looked more tired than usual.

  “What's going on?” I asked.

  “We need to get the guys together,” Roy said, scratching his beard. “We need to talk. All of us.”

  “About?” I as
ked.

  “The Incas.”

  Great. Just what I needed right then. Nodding, I walked inside with Roy and gathered the gang together. Roy had put out a message that we needed to meet, but I'd missed it thanks to getting caught up with Abbie.

  Pacing the room, I was still fuming mad. Though I'd handled the situation, I hadn't come down from the rage that had taken control of me just yet. Part of me wished I could just hop on my bike, go back there and continue punching him in the face until there was nothing left. The other part of me knew I had responsibilities to attend to right then. But my eyes were narrowed, my fists were balled up at my side and my men watched me, all of them keeping their distance but Roy.

  “I don't know what's going on with you, man,” Roy said to me, pulling me to the side, “but now is not the time for this shit. We got bigger shit on our plates right this moment. Got it?”

  “I'm fine. Let's do this,” I said, walking front and center, leaning against the bar. Crossing my arms in front of me, I waited for Roy to call the meeting to order and tell us what the hell was going on. The Incas. Which meant trouble no matter how you put it. “What about the Incas, Roy? We've held up our end of the deal, they need to pay up now.”

  “Not so fast,” Roy said, scratching at the stubble on his face. “El Segador is claiming we haven't finished the deal.”

  “That's bullshit,” I snapped. That dark rage was beginning to creep back in at the edges and I physically had to keep it from going any deeper. I took several deep breaths and let them out slowly.

  “I know it's bullshit, but there's more. They also want us to work out a new deal with them – this one involving black tar heroin.”

  A low whistle passed my lips and a feeling of dread settled around my shoulders. This day couldn't possibly get any worse. The Cossacks ran drugs – weed, some cocaine a time or two, but nothing too hardcore. It was how the club made money. But we had our limits and we didn't fuck around with stuff that would come back around to bite us in the ass.

  “We don't deal in that shit, much less with the Incas. Too fucking dangerous.”

  My men all nodded their agreement. It was one thing that united all of us. Petty crime, some drug runs, but nothing too dangerous. And nothing that was going to land any of us some serious prison time. The last thing any of us wanted was to get caught up in that shit. And as I stared out at the gang, they all seemed pretty united in that belief. It would have been big money, but doing life in prison wasn't worth it to any of them. I knew that to a man, they all had my back. More importantly, I knew that Roy had my back.

  The Incas? Couldn't trust them. Never could. That was just asking for trouble.

  “We agreed to a pot run, that was it,” I said. “We held up our end of the bargain, now it's their turn to pay up.”

  Easier said than done, and even I knew that. Roy shot me a look that said we needed to be careful. The Incas weren't people to screw around with. The problem was, we were already in bed with them. Not something I wanted to do, but at the time we cut the deal, it seemed like a good way to make a large sum of money and get out of this life for good. You know what they say about things that are too good to be true? Well, it came back to bite me in the ass, big time.

  There was trouble brewing, I could feel it. We'd been delayed in finishing our original deal with the Incas, and there had been rumors flying about us talking to the police. We didn't talk. We never talked. But now it seemed they were going to push the envelope and were going to pull us down with them. But there was no way in hell I'd let my brothers go down that way. Not for those pieces of shit.

  I was still pissed because of what happened earlier and this didn't help my mood any. But if anything, it helped me come to terms with ending things with Abbie. After all, violence was on the horizon – one way or another – and it was better she didn't get caught up in all of it. Didn't want her to get hurt or worse.

  Because God knew, my feelings for her were getting the best of me. And if I was about to be dragged down into some deep shit, I didn't want to bring her along for the ride.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ABBIE

  I shouldn't take joy in watching someone suffer, but there was more than just a little a bit of satisfaction in watching Jack pull himself up off the pavement and crawl back into the office, his eye swelling shut, his nose and lip bleeding from where King had repeatedly punched him.

  “I'm assuming I still have my job?” I asked, a smug smile tugging at my lips.

  Jack nodded, not really paying attention to me. He wouldn't even look at me.

  “Thanks, but if you don't mind, all of this has done a number on me,” I said, hands on my hips. “I think I might take the rest of the day off.”

  Jack nodded again and still remained silent. I smiled as I watched him catch his reflection in the mirror of a nearby parked car. I had to suppress my laughter as his eyes grew wide and his lips trembled. I thought he might actually break down and cry again right there in front of me. There was some small part of me that felt a little bit bad that he'd taken a beating like that. The amount of blood on his face made things look really bad. But I snuffed that out quickly. After what he'd tried to pull on me, I was not even close to being concerned about him.

  With my purse in hand, I climbed into my car and watched Jack slink back into the office building. I cocked my head and wondered what he'd tell the others. Maybe he'd tell them that he'd been mugged. Or maybe that he was attacked by a madman in the parking lot. Whatever. I shrugged and smiled again. It was his problem, not mine.

  I drove over to my best friend's house, feeling the need to rehash all the glorious details to someone. Michelle worked from home – the lucky broad – which usually meant she was sitting on her couch, her laptop sitting on her lap, with some cheese curls in a bowl by her side as she watched some horrifically bad daytime TV while she responded to e-mails and put together spreadsheets.

  And when I showed up, it was all just like I figured it would be. And, she was still in her pajamas. Lucky, lucky girl.

  “Hey,” she said, wiping her orange-stained fingers off on her pants. So predictable. “I wasn't expecting you to come by this time of day. Everything okay? You didn't get fired, did you?”

  “Yeah, everything's fine. And no, I didn't get fired,” I laughed. “I just have to tell you about my day.”

  We sat on her couch and I told her everything that had happened. I gave her a blow by blow of the confrontation in the parking lot and then we laughed about what happened to Jack.

  “What a scumbag,” she said with a chuckle. “Got what he deserved if you ask me. I never liked that asshat. It's just too bad the guy didn't permanently disable that asshole. Or just kill that creepy little shit outright.”

  “Such a way with words, Michelle,” I said, feeling much better about everything.

  “But there's one thing you didn't mention.”

  “Oh yeah? What's that?”

  Nibbling my lip, I looked at her and suddenly wondered about the wisdom of baring my soul like that. I had an idea what about where she was going in her thinking and I wasn't sure I wanted to go there just then. I hadn't exactly told her about King yet. The subject just never came up.

  “Who was your knight in shining armor?”

  I rolled my eyes, grinned, and tried to play it off. “Just some guy.”

  “Just some guy who beats the shit out of your pervy boss for you? Come on now, I wasn't born yesterday.”

  I sighed, knowing she was going to keep badgering me until I spilled it all – I just hoped I could leave some things out of the story and not have her notice my omissions.

  “Remember those obnoxious bikers who kept me up all night?” I asked.

  “Of course I do. Go on.” Michelle said, her eyes wide and eager.

  “Well, I might have gone out with their leader. Just once, though.”

  Her eyes were wide and there was a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You did what? You went out with one of t
hose guys? Seriously?”

  “Well – twice, if you count me meeting him for lunch earlier today. But that was only so I could tell him it wasn't going to work and that we'd never see each other again – ”

  “Wait, you went out with him once and then broke it off with him?”

  “There was nothing to break off, Michelle. We went out once and I stopped it before anything started?”

  “Why? Did he have bad breath or something? Smell like grease?”

  “He's a biker, Michelle,” I said, shaking my head. “He's into that whole scene – drugs, crime, who knows what the hell else those animals do.”

  “I'm sure we could find out more from Google...”

  “No,” I said, laughing as I closed her laptop screen. “No, just – no, okay? I can't see him again. I'm never going to see him again. It's too dangerous.”