by Marie James
When he climbed off and pulled out of me, he didn’t give me one considerate glance over his shoulder or an offer to shower with him before he disappeared into the bathroom. Then, to add insult to injury, he locked the damn bathroom door. It seemed like the echo of the lock sliding into place took hours to die down around me.
I fumed, plotted his death, and ran scenarios over and over in my head. I strategized how things were going to play out when he came back into the room. My first instinct was to run and pretend like it never happened but…
He had kissed me. He’d pressed his lips to mine and licked into my mouth like his survival on earth depended on it, only a second after saying he didn’t kiss whores. I knew then that he classified me as a woman who wasn’t going to sleep with others, as the girl who was only going to be with him. To him, I was different.
Piper said he doesn’t sleep with the girls in his bed, yet I was cuffed to it as he covered my body with his so Chains couldn’t see me. He didn’t urge them inside and ask Piper and Chains to join. He didn’t include them in his plans like he did with me when he was entertaining Legs my first night here. In my mind, when he thrust inside of me, I was different.
But somehow, all of that anger, all of the soul-crushing hurt I’d felt as I drifted to sleep waiting for him to finish vanishes the second I open my eyes to see him looking lovingly down at me.
Only there isn’t a trace of love in his eyes, or a hint of promise in the pressed, thin line of his lips.
My smile turns into a frown, matching the mood surrounding us right now.
“You need to go,” he grunts pulling his eyes away from me.
I’m not even worthy of being looked at now that he’s gotten exactly what he wanted. It was all a game. The passion, the rough fucking that contradicted the soft brush of his attentive fingers over my flesh, and the jealousy he trembled with when I mentioned others at the clubhouse were all a ploy to entice. They were strategically placed tactics used to make me beg for what he was offering, and like the naive girl that I am, I fell for every single one. I rushed into his false sense of security and handed over everything.
“I’m tired.” I roll over, giving him my back. We’ve played by his damn rules, and stubbornly I refuse to capitulate to this. He can fuck me stupid and regret it immediately, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to be tossed out like trash.
“Back to the house.” He pushes against my back. “Go.”
As strong as I want to be right now, as angry as I am, I climb out of bed. It has less to do with the irritation in his voice and everything to do with the sting of tears behind my own eyes. If I stay, I’ll cry, and that would make me pitiful, because no matter how much I can argue that they are angry tears, the truth is that he’s hurt my feelings. I’m a resilient person. I always have been, but his rejection is all too familiar, and it picks at the scabs of old wounds.
I can’t bear to look directly at him, but my periphery registers the towel around his waist. I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes from the looks of him.
I’m almost to the door, resignation washing over me faster than I thought it would, when I turn back in his direction.
His eyes snap up to mine, but I don’t let hope fill me at the realization that he was watching my ass as I walked away.
“You’re an ass—”
A knock on his door interrupts my parting insult. Of course, it does.
“Come in.”
“Hey, baby.” My resolve hardens when Xena brushes past me into the room. “You ready for me?”
“I’ve been ready for you since I got off the road,” Lynch replies.
“Can’t do much with a towel on. Strip and get on the bed.”
Obeying her command, Lynch reaches for his towel. “Leave.”
His words jolt me out of my trance and the shock of witnessing him complying with someone else’s demands.
I leave, but not before I see him drop the towel at his feet as Xena reaches into his bedside drawer. I know what’s kept in bedside drawers, so that means Xena is here for one thing only.
Instantly sober, I shift my top, turning to face the corner as I fasten the front clasp of my bra and make sure the tiny skirt I’m wearing is covering my ass before I walk back out to the main area of the clubhouse. Not wearing panties tonight had been part of my plan when I’d heard that he and TJ were returning, but being bare after being used leaves me feeling disgusted and ashamed.
Focused, I head down the hall, straight through the common space where the party is still in full swing, and right out the front door of the clubhouse. My heels only sink into the gravel of the parking lot once as I stride toward the gate that has held me prisoner for far too long. Determination is on my mind, but my throat hasn’t gotten the memo.
“Pete, open the d-damn gate,” I stammer.
“No can do Sweet-Tart,” comes from the other side. “Briar just texted and said you have two minutes to get your ass back inside before he has to report your absence to Prez.”
With the way that Lynch was acting earlier, I don’t imagine that he cares if I leave.
“Lynch wants me gone,” I argue.
“Let me verify,” Pete says, and I imagine he’s sending a text message to the asshole inside.
“Forget it,” I hiss and turn back around. Seeing Lynch again, either with the confirmation that he wants me gone or in some possessive fit to keep me here, isn’t what I want. Plus, it’s after midnight, and I don’t have any other place to go.
No one seems to notice me when I walk back inside, my eyes searching for my friend. She’s right where I left her, only the group of people around her has thinned out. I know where one of the girls is that I’d considered a friend a few short hours ago. I push down the pain and sense of betrayal Xena has caused this evening and walk toward my friend.
“Are you ready to go back to the house?” I ask Molly the second she looks at me.
Her frown is telling. I’m not hiding my distress as well as I need to.
“I think going to bed is a great idea.” I don’t even look at Briar as he walks up behind my friend.
Molly’s expectant eyes turn to Briar, and I notice her inability to turn her head without swaying on her feet. She’s still drunk. And why wouldn’t she be?
She didn’t get used and practically slapped in the face right after having sex with someone. Briar doesn’t touch the girls. He doesn’t call one of the women in to suck his cock while she watches, and I don’t imagine he’d replace one hole to fuck with another only moments later.
If you had pleased him, he wouldn’t need Xena for a follow-up fuck.
My masochistic brain chooses now to stab me in the back. Fresh tears pool on my lashes as my brain works on another memory. Vixen sucked him off, and he was still hard. One woman is never enough to please him. A weak smile attempts to form at my lips, but I’m just too over today for it to come to fruition.
I’m not the problem.
Xena isn’t the problem.
Vixen isn’t the problem.
Lynch is a bitter, emotionless prick who’s never satisfied.
That shit is on him, not us.
The only difference between Xena, Vixen, and myself is that I’m not here to service him whenever he calls. Lynch just became my first one and done. What’s good for the goose and all that.
“To bed, Molly.” Briar catches my friend’s arm and turns her toward the kitchen.
“Dream about me,” she slurs as I wrap an assistive arm around her waist.
“Every fucking night of my life,” he mutters as we walk away, but I don’t think she heard him.
The trek to the house takes forever. Ronan chats with us some when we get to the kitchen, and navigating the steps off the back porch seems more like trying to walk under water.
TJ is reclined in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch of Lynch’s house. Legs, as if it’s her new mailing address, is settled between his feet with her lips wrapped around his dick.
I ignore them and don’t think Molly even notices as we walk past them and into the house. I’m counting the minutes until I can leave this damn place and put Lynch far behind me.
Chapter 17
Lynch
“Did you hear a damn word I just said?”
Looking over at Briar, I just stare.
I stopped listening the second he mentioned Candi.
“She’s not cut out for this type of life, man. If she wants to leave, you need to let her go.”
“Boston needs help with the books,” I counter.
“Hornet isn’t even working on the books.” Anger rushes over me. That motherfucker knows what his expectations are. “And before you wrap a fucking noose around his neck, keep in mind you sent him to Detroit for a damn week. He can’t get shit done if you don’t let him work.”
A grunt is all he gets in concession.
“But seriously, man. I know you’re an unhappy person, and nothing ever fucking goes right for you, but you’re extra surly lately.”
“You have more important things to worry about than my mood,” I mutter as I bring my cup to my mouth and swallow down the hot creamy mixture.
Briar stared at me when I bypassed the sugar and creamer and dropped a dollop of French silk ice cream into my cup this morning. I didn’t explain a damn thing to him. There isn’t one person in this world I owe an explanation to.
That’s a lie, the little voice in my head whispers.
“You could concentrate more on the club if you let her go.”
“Brother,” I warn. “Are you questioning my devotion to this club?”
“I would never,” he answers immediately. “You just seem unhappier than I’ve ever seen you.”
“I’m always unhappy,” I remind him.
That’s a lie, the little voice in my head whispers again. I wasn’t unhappy last night when my cuffs snapped around Candi’s wrists, and her eyes dilated with need. In fact, I was in heaven. Not one single other thing filtered through my mind when she took me to the root, and her cunt fisted my cock like she never wanted me to leave.
“You don’t have to be.” He doesn’t make eye contact with me, and I’m grateful for the reprieve from his scrutiny.
“You are one miserable motherfucker. You don’t have any room to talk.”
It’s his turn to grunt in reply.
At least I have an outlet. I can pick a girl or leave the clubhouse for some new pussy, but he’s just existing, alone, except for the camaraderie of the other bikers and his work.
“I was wondering if I could head down to Miami. Try to build rapport with the Colombians.”
“No.” I reject his request immediately. “We haven’t heard back from Jiménez, and until that happens, we aren’t stepping foot in Florida.”
“I can’t sta—”
“You’ll go where I need you.” My tone doesn’t leave room for argument, and he doesn’t test the boundary. “I have something I’m sure you’re going to want to take care of. I didn’t want things to get derailed for Detroit, but we need to talk about why Molly is back home.”
We are outside in the open, but I feel the air shift around us immediately.
“Prez.” His voice is rough with emotion already. “Tell me she got kicked out because she couldn’t pass Biology.”
“I wish I could.” Avoiding eye contact with him, I keep my eyes focused on the closed basement door in the distance.
“Is she pregnant?”
“No,” I answer immediately. “She’s still a virgin.”
“Thank fuck,” he spits, and I don’t know if he’s relieved she isn’t going to be a teen mother or if it’s an answer to a question he hasn’t asked yet.
“The rape kit from the hospital came back negative,” I add.
The wood of the chair arms groans under his grip.
“She and Candi went to a party a couple miles from school.” I swallow and clear my throat twice before I speak again. “Molly was drugged, but Candi got to her in time. They left, but not before Candi set the house on fire. There were three guys lurking over her by the time Candi made it upstairs.”
“Tell me the sick fuckers didn’t die in the fire,” he begs.
A menacing smile spreads across my face. His mind has gone exactly where mine went when Molly cried through her recollection. After noticing my face and knowing I was already making plans, she’d made me swear I wouldn’t go after the guys. I promised her I wouldn’t lay a finger on them, and I keep my word.
“Smalls did some research, and thankfully all three of them are alive and well,” I answer.
“Perfect.”
“I figured you’d rather head to Andover than Miami. How much time do you need?”
A wicked grin tilts the corners of his mouth. “It’ll take a few days.”
Satisfaction, or as much as I will allow myself to feel, spreads through me. Andover is only an hour away. If he wanted, he could leave now and be back in time for lunch. If Ravens Ruin was a corporate setting, I’d give him a bonus for his dedication to his job, but we aren’t that civilized. Their blood on his hands will be payment enough.
“The police are looking for Candi. They don’t have a clue that she could be here.” I turn my head in his direction. “I can’t let her leave because she isn’t safe.”
“Have you shared this information with her?” My head shakes. “Don’t you think she should know?”
I nod. It’s an agreement to tell her soon because I can’t tell him the truth. I can’t confess out loud that I want her to be here because she wants to be here, that the way I treated her last night is the exact opposite of how I feel.
“She needs to know,” he urges. “She tried to leave here last night. You would’ve felt like shit if she left and got picked up by the damn police.”
“I’ll fucking tell her,” I grunt.
We settle back into our rockers as the sun finally clears the horizon.
“Are we just going to leave the other matter open-ended?”
“No,” I grunt.
I know what he’s going to ask. I know exactly where his head went the second I mentioned Molly being drugged.
There are aspects of our business, of my father’s business specifically that he’s never been happy with. He was silenced years ago and has bided his time, but he’s not going to go uncensored again. Not after what happened to my sister.
“Are you going to tell me it’s a process, and that shutting down an operation this size is going to take time?”
“No.”
“Has it already been taken care of?”
“For the most part.”
“Can you give me a little more information?” He’s agitated but questioning how I’ll react once our business has hurt someone so close to me is infuriating.
“Give me a minute,” I hiss as I lift my coffee to my lips.
He waits in silence as I finish my coffee and calm down. He’s right. I am on edge, and although I’ve never once regretted stringing someone up by their fucking neck before, something low in my gut tells me that Briar swinging from the end of my rope might cause me some mild discomfort in the end.
“This should be discussed in church,” I begin, feeling exhausted just looking at the back of the clubhouse, “But I don’t fucking feel like walking over there.”
He doesn’t respond, well aware that any interruption will only leave him waiting longer.
I hate that my cup is empty, but I won’t risk licking the rim of the cup in front of my VP.
“All shipments of GHB and ROH have been canceled. After Smalls collected the information in Andover, he made the rounds and collected the remaining supplies.”
“To be stashed somewhere until the sting wears off?” he interrupts.
“My position is quickly changing on whether or not to walk your ass to the basement. A few minutes ago I didn’t because I’m fucking tired, but I seem to be gaining energy each and every damn time you open your fucking mouth.” I turn my hea
d to glower at him.
Faith in my friend grows exponentially when his hard eyes don’t change, and in the determination, I also sense the accusation. The idea that some of our very own dope could’ve ended up in Molly’s system, compromising her safety, has weighed heavily on me for the last two weeks. I’m sick with the idea of it all, nearly debilitated at turning a blind eye to the fact that our products have been used to help sexually assault women for years. I’m so fucking hypocritical in my vow to never physically hurt a woman. Knowing I’ve let others hurt them by proxy is almost enough to wrap the fucking rope around my own goddamned neck.
But, I’m so fucking tired. Too tired to do even that.
Briar was the only one who stood up to my father when one of his original crew members recommended switching from liquid GHB to Rohypnol capsules. It was the same day he saw my father lift his gun and shoot me without another word. After what happened with Molly, I know he’s not willing to back down again.
“The drugs have been buried in the Chasm. It’s the best we can do right now. I don’t trust anyone else to destroy them, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the only thing that can be done.”
“And the molly?”
I wince when he mentions the ecstasy, knowing that my fucked-up father thought it would be damned hilarious to name his daughter after the drug that put Ravens Ruin on the distribution map.
“I don’t know many women purposely taking roofies to get gang raped. Most women interested in the group thing, I feel, want to be awake when it happens. Molly is taken to stay up and party. I don’t think it’s on the same playing field.”
He nods, expecting my answer.
“So it’s all off the streets?”
I frown. “We’re planning a trip back to Syracuse tomorrow. The house there didn’t hand over all of their product like they were instructed. When the guys stopped by last week, they didn’t know that Smalls had already been through there to confiscate the GHB and ROH.”
“That’s why you looked irritated when Chains mentioned them in church last night.” I nod. “And Smalls actually told you all of this.”
