by Zoey Parker
“What was it I said about you using that word?” His voice dropped, his eyes darkened.
“Does she have the same rules?” What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t know.
“Kelly doesn’t have any rules. She’s not mine.”
“Not anymore, right? Got bored with her, did you?”
“Are you jealous of an old flame, Lauren?” The right side of his mouth cocked up in a half grin.
Of course I was, but why.
“Kelly, wasn’t mine, not like you are. She was a toy, yes. One that she wanted to be, and still does, I’ll be up front about that. But I’ve never given her the idea we were anything more than that.”
“Just like us, right? When you figure out who was trying to hurt me, you’ll go away again. Disconnect from me. That’s what you’ve made damn clear.”
“Watch yourself, Lauren.”
“Oh, I am. See, I’m not okay with being your fuck toy, or fuck buddy, or whatever you want to call it. If you are going to stay here tonight, you can crash on the couch.” I stepped away from him and pointed to the door.
“I don’t think that’s what your body wants.” His smooth voice told the truth, but it wasn’t my body that needed him to go. I was going to lose him again, I knew that, and how much that hurt when it happened depended on how much I let myself fall for him. “You aren’t my fuck toy, Lauren.”
“Then what are we doing? You’ve already put an expiration date on us. So just go sleep on the couch, don’t make everything harder than it has to be. Better yet, just go home. You can come back in the morning if you want to take me to school, but just go.”
“You know what? Fine.” He pushed past me and barged into the living room. He found his boots and pulled them on, not looking at me while he tied the laces. His jaw tensed as well as all of muscles in his back. He grabbed his shirt from where he’d tossed it on the couch and pulled it on over his head, messing up his hair in the process. “You want to be a big girl, take care of yourself and not take any help from me, fine. I’m not having this same fight with you again and again, every fucking time you get it in your head I’m just going to disappear on you one day.”
“Get it in my head? You put it in my head. You did that, you disappeared on me.”
“And I explained why. I told you—”
“You gave me a load of bullshit. Protecting me? From what, the big bad man you became?” I couldn’t stop the words as they flew from my mouth. “I’ve seen more than you think, I’ve done more than you know, and not a single bit of that makes me less worthy of something great. So if you think that because you were in jail, because you took a wrong turn in your biker club, that it would make you less worthy of a connection with another person, then you are as dumb as everyone said you were in high school.”
His jaw clamped shut and his nostrils flared. Without another word, he yanked open my front door and left, slamming it behind him. I heard his booted steps down the stairs, and the outer door slam, too. When I heard the rev of his motorcycle I hurried to the front window. I ducked behind the curtain when he looked back up at my apartment, as though second guessing his leaving. He shook his head, cursed loud enough for me to hear it through the glass and took off down the street.
Well, hell.
***
I half expected to find Michael on my doorstep the next morning, but I didn’t. Instead, I found a note taped to my door.
What makes you think you can just walk away without paying what you owe? Drop the internship, and get back to work.
My breath caught in my throat and I crushed the note in my hand. Tanner had been right. I really hated when he was right.
If Michael had been there, he would know what to do, and would take no time taking over the situation. But he wasn’t there. He left. I’d thrown him out.
Make one mistake, and it can live with you forever, even if you try shaking it. The note proved that to me. I hadn’t shaken it, hadn’t left it behind me.
I needed to get to school, so I tossed the note into my bag and started off toward the bus stop. The long ride to school, even in the heat, would calm my nerves by the time I got there. I would need to call Tanner. He’d have an idea of how to get a hold of him. Maybe he could intervene, to talk him off the damn ledge.
I still didn’t understand what the internship had to do with the note, but it was obvious Michael had been right about that. Someone wanted me off that internship bad enough to conjure up old ghosts.
I had no debts, owed nothing to anyone. But that didn’t mean people didn’t still think they deserved more than they got, and those people were dangerous. I needed Tanner. I needed Michael, too, but I ruined that pretty good. Instead of just taking what he could give, I pushed him for more than he could. Of course he ran away; it was what he did best when he felt caged in.
Class went by in a blur and I missed pretty much everything the teacher said. If Michael were right and his club were involved, and the Fallen were involved, that meant Tanner might not be able to get the information I needed, or protect me. His hands didn’t reach into those pockets. He stayed away from the bikers. When Colton had approached me, Tanner warned me to stay away, but I didn’t listen. Colton hadn’t hurt me. Being honest, I’d have to admit it was the fact that he reminded me of Michael that made me go out with him. The overprotective nature, the interest in my safety, but he lacked Michael’s care. Colton didn’t give a crap if I were safe or if I were happy; he only cared about not letting other men near me.
Caleb hadn’t been much better, except he only wanted to know where I was so I couldn’t walk in on him cheating on me. That plan didn’t always work for him, though. Tanner hadn’t warned me about him; instead he’d laughed about him. Such a weakling, he’d said when he ran into us one afternoon.
“Hey, Lauren.” Pierre slid into the seat beside me in the lecture hall. It was then I realized class had ended. The majority of the students had filed out already. “Look, I know I’ve been a little…irrational about the internship. It’s just, well, look, we both know I deserve it more than you. We both know how you managed to get your spot in this program, and how you pay for your tuition. That little shelter and maid job you have can barely pay your rent, so let’s not beat around the bush anymore.”
I wanted to get up, to walk away from him, but his hand clamped down on my knee. Keeping me where I was. The last of the students left the hall, letting the door bang closed behind them. “Pierre.”
“No. No talking. Just listen. You don’t seem to be getting the hint. You don’t deserve to be in the top, not when you whored your way up there.”
“I didn’t whore my way anywhere.”
“You think I don’t know. That’s cute. You aren’t the only one with connections, the only one who knows people in dangerous places. That internship is mine. Drop it, or the warnings will get a little more personal. Maybe your mom could convince you.”
“My mom.” My heart raced. “Touch my mom, and you’ll die,” I whispered, unable to get my voice to raise to where I wanted it.
“I won’t. Please. I don’t get my hands dirty, but if you don’t start wising up, I’ll have to tap those resources I told you about.”
“Why do you want this so badly?” His hand started tightening on my knee, squeezing it to the point of sharp pain.
“Why do you? Because it’s the best damn position in the city. But is it worth your mom getting hurt? Or you getting hurt? You need to remember what trash you really are and step back in place.” He leaned toward me, his nose brushing against mine. “Too bad you didn’t work for that friend of yours.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, and I yanked away, earning another hared squeeze to my leg. His nails dug into me. “You could have made some good cash.” His tongue jutted out of his mouth and ran along my jaw.
“Pierre.” I tried to move out of my chair, but his other hand gripped my hair, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
“Maybe if I fuck you, I’ll want to give up on the opport
unity of a lifetime, what do you think? Would you do that for me? Give me that pussy of yours in exchange.”
My stomach turned at his touch. He dragged my head forward, nodding it in response to his absurd suggestion. “Is that a yes? Such a good whore.” He laughed. “It’s a good thing you wore that pretty sundress today, easier for me you see, not to have to tear off your pants.”
“Get the fuck off me.” I pushed against him, but he was heavier than he looked and all it earned me was a yank of my hair.
He reached over and pulled at the top of my dress, popping off several buttons and opening it until my breasts popped out. “Ah, that’s what they look like.” He moved his hand off my knee, and grabbed one breast, squeezing it just as hard. I yelled out from his nails.
He yanked my hair again. “Yell like that gain, and I gag you.”
The door behind us flew open, and before he could look behind him to see who was there, he was being pulled off me and thrown to the ground in the aisle. I pulled my dress together and stood up, grabbing my things to run out. It took one look to see it was Michael. He was on top of Pierre, pounding his fist into his face.
“Don’t kill him,” I yelled, and Michael stopped mid punch to give me an incredulous look.
He focused his glare back on Pierre. “Touch her again, and you fucking die. You got me?”
Pierre smiled, showing his bloody teeth. “Fuck you.” It took one more punch from Michael to knock him out.
I slumped back into the seat, holding my dress closed. My body quaked, and the spot where his nails had dug into my knee had started to bleed. Michael left Pierre and came over to me, looking at the small cut on my leg, then took in the sight of my dress.
He didn’t say a word. He just pushed my hands away and buttoned what could be buttoned back up, mostly covering me up. He wiped the hair from my face, and looked me in the eyes. I needed his touch at that moment, his lips to cover mine, to let me know I hadn’t completely ruined us.
“Let’s get you home.” He helped me stand and took my bag from me. When we came to where Pierre lay unconscious he pulled me to him, capturing my mouth beneath his. Not gentle, but not demanding either. Exactly what I needed. I belonged to him.
He wrapped his arm around my waist and walked me up the last few steps to the doors. The students for the next class started to trickle in. A girl screamed, and someone flew out of the room, running down the corridor, but Michael just kept walking with me slowly toward the parking lot.
How many times did this man have to save me? After all the years I took care of myself, gotten myself into crappy situations and managed to get out of them on my own, why did he still need to save me from men like Pierre?
I let him help me get into the cab of his truck and shut the door, leaning against the window and not caring about the heat in the truck. He drove us back to his house, and I didn’t argue. I didn’t want to go back to my place, where that note had appeared, where the reminder of how much danger I was in, how much danger my mom could be in, all because I’d gotten that internship.
No, it was more than that. It was because after I couldn’t find Michael, I’d met up with Tanner, I’d worked for him. I ran messages, packages, anything really between him and his associates. I didn’t know who they were or what the messages said. I didn’t know anything. Tanner wouldn’t tell me even if I asked. It was my innocence. People trusted me. And because I’d earned enough money to pay for college, and because Tanner pulled strings to get me into the architecture program, I had people out for me. I’d taken what wasn’t mine, reached for things outside my grasp.
And now I’d pay.
Chapter 18
Michael
Lauren was still asleep after three hours of napping. When I’d gotten her home, she didn’t fight me as I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom. Once she was under the covers, she closed her eyes and fell right to sleep.
When I took her dress off her, I’d seen the claw mark on her breast from where that bastard put his hands on her. I wanted to go back to campus and beat the fuck out of him again, but she’d stilled my hand and kissed it. She whispered a quiet thank you, and lay against the pillows.
Sitting in my kitchen, I gripped a beer in my hand. Something was going on, something more than just a goddamn internship.
Tony finally got some news for me. Pierre’s father, Daniel Leonard , owned a mechanic franchise that had taken on popularity in the suburbs. He wanted to bring a new store in the city, start building up his empire in Chicago. Ezra Slattery, the president of Chicago’s Fallen, was his brother-in-law, and had been loaned a shit ton of money a few years back. Since Ezra ran a garage, Daniel wanted to turn it into his first store.
I knew Ezra; he’d never agree to turn his club into some chain. But the pressure was being put on heavy; he needed money to pay back the loan or he was going to have to give into his brother-in-law. His club wouldn’t take it lightly––they’d see it as a betrayal, letting a personal issue like that dictate club business.
Tony heard Ezra made a deal. Help Pierre with his little internship problem, and Daniel would look elsewhere for his garage.
I took a big swig of my beer. That may explain why she was being harassed about the damn internship, but it didn’t explain why Mick Taylor was involved. Ezra reaching out to him for help didn’t make sense, and didn’t sit right with me. Tony agreed. Something stank, and he was keeping an eye out at the club.
Something Lauren mumbled in her sleep ate at me. “Tanner. Need Tanner.”
One, who the fuck was Tanner, and two, why would she need him? I was there. I may have run out on her the night before, and I wouldn’t forgive myself for that pussy hissy fit just yet, but I was back.
Of course she’d be insecure about me leaving her, I had basically said just as much to her. After this was over, I’d go away. But fuck if I could stomach the idea of that anymore.
Chapter 19
Michael
When she didn’t come out of the lecture hall with the other students, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was no logical way to explain it other than I knew something was wrong.
Remembering the look of panic on her face when I opened those doors would forever be etched in my mind. It was as though she were frozen. That asshole had his hand on her knee, digging into her skin. Her dress had been torn open, and his fucking fingers groped her breast. My body reacted fast, but not as fast as I wanted it to. My brain just about exploded when I saw what he was doing. All I could think of doing was getting him away from her. So that’s what I did, ripped his ass off her and beat him senseless. As usual for Lauren, even after he’d attacked her, fucking tried to rape her, she didn’t want me to kill him. I wanted to rip his head off his body, but hearing her behind me pulled my attention back to her. She needed me.
In hindsight, I should have left him conscience and dragged him with us. I was sure he had all the fucking answers I needed to tie all the loose ends together. Instead, I left him bleeding on the steps of a goddamn lecture hall. I was sure campus security was called, so bringing Lauren back to school might be tricky. If I even let her go back there.
I tried calling Bixby again, there had to be more at stake here than just a goddamn internship. The rich prick couldn’t be after that particular internship this badly just because he wanted it; there had to be more.
“Michael.” Her soft voice called to me from upstairs.
I dropped my phone on the table and ran up to my bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hair tousled as though she’d had a rough time sleeping, and what little makeup she wore was smeared around her eyes. She’d been crying. I wanted to throw my fist through that fucker’s face again.
I knelt down in front of her, pushing the hair away from her face and wiping away the trail of tears on her cheek. “What is it, baby? Have a bad dream?”
She shook her head. “Not while I was sleeping.”
Her grated voice tore at me. I hopped on the bed with her,
scooting her back against the headboard and holding her to my chest. Cradling her in my arms soothed my temper, at least a little, because I could feel her breath against my neck, I could smell the shampoo she’d used that morning.
“Michael.” She buried her face farther into my chest.
“What is it, Lauren?” I kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair back. A shiver ran through her body, and her fingers dug into my shirt. “Lauren.” My voice went hard. My girl didn’t need soft right now, she seemed to be warring with herself about letting go, and damned if I’d let her fight that battle alone. “Tell me what’s going on.”
A soft sigh, then a nod. “Okay.” She snuggled against me, but didn’t try to look up at me. The last time she’d acting in such a way was when she confessed to me that she had thrown away all the beer in the house to keep her stepdad from drinking. I had thought the act bold for her, but she’d been ashamed because her stepdad blamed her mom and her mom took the punishment. Whatever was coming out of that pretty mouth next wasn’t going to be something I liked, that much I knew.
