Enough

by Jade Chandler

  His hand fell across my back and he sighed—the sigh of an appreciative man.

  “Magic.” He kissed my head.

  “I know you have a magic cock,” I joked.

  His chest rumbled with laughter, but his eyes stayed closed. His heartbeat echoed in my ear, slowing over the next few minutes until I was sure he slept. Scooting off him, I put on my clothes and peeked out into the hall. Empty. I decided to let him sleep awhile and headed to the kitchen.

  “What the hell did you do?” Jericho’s deep voice boomed.

  I flinched and turned to see him and the guy named Romeo with cards in their hands and curious frowns on their face.

  “You’ll have to ask Dare.” I struggled not to giggle, not because it was funny really, but because I was embarrassed and still riding high from my own good time.

  “Holy fuck, I never thought I’d hear him scream like a girl.” The other guy shook his head.

  I picked up my pace and disappeared into the kitchen. I found some strawberries in the fridge and decided I’d make Rock another strawberry pie. He’d put up with all my foul moods while Dare had been gone.

  I lost myself in the baking when I heard Dare’s voice. “Red.” Looking up, I was surprised almost an hour had passed. I set aside my nearly finished pie and headed to find the grumbly bear.

  “What?”

  He sat with the other two guys. “Come here.”

  “I’m here.” I grinned and sat on his lap.

  “What did you tell these ass hats?”

  “That they should ask you about anything they had questions about.” I kissed his chin.

  He frowned down at me. “Next time you make me pass out from one of your tricks, stay the hell in bed until I wake up.”

  Heat burned my cheeks. “Yes, sir.” I gulped, trying not to laugh.

  “Good girl. You ready?”

  “Give me ten minutes to finish a pie and we’ll go.” I kissed his forehead and escaped.

  Jericho and Romeo started in with questions before I’d moved off his lap. Smiling to myself, I headed back to the kitchen to finish my pie, satisfaction filling me to the tip-top of my curly hair.

  * * *

  Weeks stacked on top of each other like dominos set to fall. We’d navigated two months of this strange dance without stepping on each other’s toes. But more, I didn’t feel consumed, sucked dry, like I normally did with the men in my life. An idea planted roots in my brain—I wasn’t the failure.

  My swings from elation to nervous dread lessened every day as I started to believe in myself. Dare valued and respected me in a way none of the others had despite their promises and whispered words of love. I’d take Dare’s actions over all the proclamations in the world.

  Wednesdays became my favorite day of the week. Taking care of Dare had become second nature and I enjoyed it, especially since he didn’t expect it. However, cooking breakfast for the entire club—it stoked my self-esteem in a way nothing ever had. The guys showed appreciation in a playful way. The Angels of the world sneered at me in my apron serving pancakes, but she and others like her would never feel my pride in caring for people. It had been programmed into me at birth, I think, and I was done apologizing for who I was.

  On my fifth Wednesday, like clockwork, I had the pancakes, bacon and sausage ready to serve by a quarter to ten. Humming a happy tune, I carried out the huge serving dish of pancakes. Another like it waited in the oven. A few more trips and I’d laid out my spread.

  “Come and get it, boys,” I announced to the room.

  More than forty pairs of eyes stared at me before chairs scraped back in a cacophony of screeches. I headed to the kitchen to clean up first, and then I’d chat with the guys later. Carrying out the second pan of cakes, I stared at three empty pans. I transferred the empty pan for a full one of cakes before I hurried back to the kitchen for bacon.

  Placing the bacon in the empty serving dish, I scanned the room for Dare, but he was a no-show. On the days he didn’t bring me, he usually strolled in by ten thirty. What was keeping him away?

  Zayn sauntered up with a wink. “Mama, that was great. I’m going to bust I ate so much.”

  My laughter rang out at his always outrageous compliments. “Thanks. Why do you call me Mama?”

  Zayn’s brows lifted and I think his cheeks turned pink but he ducked his head too quick. “It’s a compliment, the highest one, we give old ladies and others who go out of their way to take care of us. I guess, a sign of our respect.”

  He scuffed his boot, more than ready to flee this conversation. “Zayn, you’re too sweet. Thanks, and for the other times as well. I’ll bring some red velvet cake by the shop later.”

  He grinned up at me. “Do I have to share?”

  I frowned and shooed him toward the door. “Get your bad self to work and open up the shop for me.”

  “Dare’s not going get any the way this crew is eating today.” Zayn gave a lazy wave and left the club.

  I didn’t like it that Dare still hadn’t showed up, but maybe something came up, like club somethings. I returned to the kitchen to bring more pancakes out for the third dish. I’d just set the dish on the counter when a hulk of a guy, huge and tall, walked up to the table in a vest and nothing else on his top half. I’d never seen muscles like that, he even made Rock look small.

  “Hey, honey.” He looked me up and down in a way I’d seen too often from guys in the club.

  This guy who I’d never even seen before stared at me with empty plate in hand, not even bothering to pretend to load it up.

  “Hey, I’m Lila, nice to meet you.” I grinned up at him.

  “Thorn. I wanna fuck you.”

  Whoa, what an offer. No one had propositioned me before, but I hoped to avoid a scene. I decided to try a joke. It’d worked before, even if no one had been that blunt about their interest. Most of the guys had a great sense of humor.

  “Unfortunately, that’s not possible.” I gave him a wink, turning to leave.

  But I never made it. Next thing I remember, I hit the wall and crumpled to the floor—my face on fire.

  Hands over my face, I curled into a ball, afraid the next blow was seconds away. I hadn’t even seen the first one coming. Panic hurtled through me at the thought of how much damage the giant could do to me.

  How could I think I am safe?

  MJ’s face blurred in front of mine. She spoke, but the words were jumbled by the ringing in my ears. Slowly her face came into focus and the ringing subsided. Shouts sounded loud behind MJ, but her words finally penetrated my fog of pain.

  “Can you walk? I need to get you away, now.” She sounded panicked.

  “Yeah, give me a hand,” I croaked, and braced for the fresh wave of pain standing would create. Sucking in a fortifying breath, I pulled to my feet swaying from the way everything spun. As soon as the shifting room settled, I let go of the biker woman. I’d taken worse and walked away on my own. Head up, I strode through the door to the kitchen and out the back door. Vertigo threatened and I propped myself against the club wall. Fresh air cleared my head, and redoubled the pounding pain in my cheek. I knew I’d have a shiner, and I hadn’t even looked in a mirror.

  Experience is a fucking bitch. This reminder hurt me as much as the first time my father had laid me out on the floor. Betrayal churned with my pain until tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let a single drop of water run down my cheek.

  I willed my body to settle. How could I drive with the world jumping around? Shit, my keys and purse were under the counter at the bar, and going back in there would suck. A bony hand rested on my arm, definitely not Dare’s hand.

  Scenarios of vengeance with Dare as my hero played through my brain. No one ever rescued me because I wasn’t a fucking heroine, just a girl to slap around. I needed to remember.r />
  MJ pressed a bag of peas to my cheek. I grabbed the peas and held them in place.

  Same shit different day.

  She spoke to me, but I tuned out all her apologies and excuses. I’d heard them all. Even though I wanted nothing to do with her or the club, I let her lead me to a car and drive away since I couldn’t see well enough to drive myself.

  “Look, Thorn’s a special case. I didn’t know he...”

  I quit listening.

  Wasn’t every abuser a special case with some excuse for his shit? No doubt the fault was mine, but I didn’t want to know what I’d done wrong this time. Instead, I mourned the loss of my dream—the one that died when I hit the club floor.

  This really is home, I thought, a place where people I care about—I refuse to admit my love—hurt me for my own good. At the root of all abuse was the need to teach a lesson or control another. Whichever it was for the big guy, I didn’t have it in me to care.

  Ironic. I’d thought this place was different. What a joke.

  MJ let me into my apartment since we’d left my purse at the club. But at the door, I stopped her.

  “I need ibuprofen and some rest. I know what to do.” My voice sounded weary.

  MJ stared at me a long minute. “You been down this road before.”

  I started to nod and my head exploded. “I paved the fucking road.”

  I closed the door in her face, locked it and trudged to the bedroom. I grabbed four pills and swallowed them dry before heading to the freezer for a fresh ice pack. I stuck MJ’s peas in the freezer and drew out a pack of corn. I hated peas for exactly this reason—a truckload of peas had iced my bruised body, every one of those bruises caused by a man.

  Chapter Eighteen: Dare

  Three hours earlier

  Blaring music woke me and I reached to slam the snooze but the alarm clock wasn’t there. I turned on my side and searched for it because if it didn’t stop soon my head would explode. I crawled out of bed and pulled the damn thing from the wall. A dark brown wall—not the clubhouse or Red’s—where was I?

  Still dressed from the night before, I stumbled into the living room to find Rock passed out on his couch. Fuck, that’s right. We’d shut down Blue’s and came back here last night and drank until I can’t remember when.

  I dug my phone out of my pocket. Seven missed calls. I glanced at the time—eleven thirty. I’d missed Red’s breakfast, but not a single call had been from her. Five from Jericho meant shit was serious, so I tugged on my boots and headed to my bike, not even bothering to wake Rock. What could be wrong? A fight at the club? Brothers picking a fight was normal, but this one had turned into full-scale mayhem.

  Had Red been hurt? She better be fine or there’d be hell to pay.

  I’d meant to make it to breakfast, which was why that alarm had probably been blaring at me, but I hadn’t gotten so wasted since the last time Jericho and I had a drinking contest. I made it to the club in ten minutes, about twice as fast as normal. Bikes lined the parking lot, along with a jeep 4x4—Thorn.

  Motherfucker, that brother was a walking danger zone. I parked my bike, wondering who had set him off this time. If he was still on a tear, it’d take four of us to hold him back. I walked in to chaos. Bikers yammered in groups, Jericho poked Thorn in the chest, yelling at the top of his lungs and Bear stood at the edge of it all, arms crossed leaning against the wall.

  “What the fuck happened?” I shouted at Bear.

  “No way I’m telling you.” He pointed to Jericho and Thorn. “Ask those stupid bastards.”

  Unease turned to something raw and hot. “Where’s Red?”

  “Ask them.” Bear spit the words at me before he walked away.

  I stomped over to Jericho and Thorn, unable to hear for all the racket. When Jericho saw me his face drained of color and Thorn bowed his head. Rage flowed out of the deep hole. I tried to bury it inside, and it doubled and tripled in seconds.

  The room had turned silent. “Tell me. Or should I just beat you bloody?”

  Thorn took a step back and another. “Sit your ass down, you’re next.” My quiet tone was deadly—I considered killing someone if what I suspected was true. If Thorn had scared her or grabbed her, I’d beat him until I couldn’t throw another punch.

  Thorn sat. Jericho shoved hands in his pockets. “It’s my fault. I didn’t tell anyone Thorn was here last night.”

  I grabbed him by the shirt collar. “And?”

  “He propositioned Lila.”

  Wham. My fist connected with his chin. Again. And again.

  “Stop for a minute, not the worst.” Jericho’s words penetrated my fury.

  How could that not be the worst?

  “Not knowing any better, she joked and turned him down.” Jericho met my gaze. “And he knocked her to the fucking floor. MJ hustled her out and—”

  “You.” Slam, a right. “Bastard.” A left fist. “Know better.” Slam, another hit. “I trusted you to keep my woman safe.”

  “She should’ve said she’s your—”

  I turned and punched Weasel in the face, dropping him to the floor unconscious.

  “You let her get hurt. Punched by Thorn.” I hit Jericho over and over until Thorn moved him aside and stood in front of me.

  “I fucked up. Didn’t know she was yours, but I know women aren’t the enemy. I don’t hit women.” The words didn’t calm me, even knowing the big man had trouble with reality since his time in the war.

  I slammed a fist into his rock-hard gut. His jaw. I pummeled him and his nose bled but he didn’t even step back from my assault. He was like a goddam concrete wall, but I kept hitting because the rage wouldn’t go away. The violent haze urged me on, wanting blood, destruction and retribution.

  A sharp whistle made me turn—MJ’s whistle. “Glad you’re payin’ attention.” All five foot no inches of her stood tall on the bar. “You boys—” she glared at Thorn and Jericho “—should be ashamed, and I will not be talking to that sweet girl about charges. If she puts your asses in jail you deserve it.”

  Thorn dropped into a seat and pounded his head into the table. I knew another conviction would put him in for more than a year, but the crazy ass deserved it.

  “She didn’t ask me a goddam question, just shut her door like a beat dog.” MJ tapped her shoe on the bar. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman look so destroyed, when you boys let her get hurt, hurt her, it’s like you ripped out that big heart of hers.” She harrumphed and jumped off the bar and stormed out of the club.

  My fists dropped bloody and throbbing to my sides. Destroyed. Heart ripped out of her. What was I doing here when my woman was hurt? I needed her to be okay, be okay with me, but I doubted either one of those would happen.

  I spun on my heel without a word, heading for Red. I had to be able to touch her, hold her, tell her...what? My fucked-up life had already landed her on the floor. Was I selfish enough to lure her back? I totally would because I couldn’t imagine a day going by without touching her.

  “Tell her I’m sorry,” Thorn called to my back.

  I kept walking.

  “I’m going to talk to her,” Jericho yelled after me.

  “Stay away from her,” I growled before I walked out the door and to my bike.

  The ride to Red’s place seemed like an eternity. I’d let her down in all the ways that mattered, and I planned to convince her to stay with me. I didn’t know why but today I couldn’t let her slip away from me.

  I parked the bike and headed up the steps two at a time. I pounded on her door, but she didn’t answer, so I used my key to get in. Besides, she didn’t need to be up moving around. I’d taken a punch from Thorn, and she was lucky her cheek wasn’t broken.

  Maybe it was, but she hadn’t told anyone. She could be at the ER righ
t now.

  I hurried through the living room. “Red, you here?” I kept going toward the bedroom.

  “Yeah. In here.”

  I walked into the bedroom and stopped, rooted in place. My woman stood swaying on unsteady feet with a stiff spine like she was ready for round two of the fight.

  I closed the distance to her, watching the way she worked not to show emotion, but fear danced with defiance in her cat eyes. The left side of her face was swollen with knuckle-size bruises starting to darken on her cheekbone. Anger ignited inside me, but I tamped that shit down. The last thing she needed was my anger, or guilt for that matter. I swallowed all those things, now she needed me. Her left eye puffed out and would be swollen shut soon. I lightly held her chin in my palm, caressing the unbruised side of her face.

  “I’m so sorry, Red. This is my fault for not being there to protect you.”

  She stared at me with an empty expression. I’d never seen her face without any emotion.

  “It’s fine.” Her words were as flat as her face.

  “No, it’s not.” I flipped her to the mirror. “Your face is fucked up. That is never okay.” I scrubbed my chin. “Of all the damn days to oversleep.”

  She winced at her reflection. “I was clearly out of line. Point made.”

  “What the hell?” She blamed herself. That was so screwed up I didn’t even know where to begin to straighten her out. “Why ain’t you pissed off? I am.” I paced her tiny bedroom.

  “I got careless and this is what you get when you’re careless.” She spoke like a puppet, or some damn robot.

  “Careless? What did you do?”

  “Dunno. MJ tried explaining on the way here, but it doesn’t really matter. I’ll be more cautious.” She looked away from me. “Forgot my place, or lack of one.”

  “Goddammit.”

  Fury punched me in the chest and I wanted to beat Jericho all over again. Her words pissed me off because I knew they were true. Her place in my world depended entirely on me, and I’d not been there the one time it mattered.

  “Get mad, say something.” Her lack of emotion, all those feelings that made her Red, were gone and it scared me.