Chapter Fifteen
Josh is finally coming home from the hospital. I’m so relieved, but I’m also pissed off. Weed is picking him up. He doesn’t want me there. I’m to meet him at the clubhouse for some party they’re hosting to welcome him back. Weeks, I’ve been at his bedside, taking care of him, seeing to his every whim and need. It shouldn’t bother me that he doesn’t want me to walk him out of the hospital and put him in a car just to drive him across town, but it does. It’s stupid, it really is, but it feels like another rejection. Leaving the hospital is a milestone I should have been a part of, and I hate that he’s not letting me be.
I tamp that down, and tell myself I’m being a fool, but I don’t hurry to get ready. In fact, by the time my taxi arrives and gets me to the clubhouse, I’m late—a taxi I only managed to get because Jem lifted my blacklisting ban after I ran out of the hospital. I think he was worried I might get stuck somewhere again without the ability to get a ride, although he warned me I could only use the service in emergencies. Well, tonight, I’m breaking all the rules, and I could not care less.
Childish? Maybe, but I feel slighted.
My brother might just be the biggest arse on the planet, and since I’m a grown woman, I can get a taxi across town without having to ask permission.
Even so, I feel a hint of nerves as I peer through the side window of the cab and notice the clubhouse car park is filled with bikes and cars. This rapidly growing tingling feeling only solidifies when I hear the dull tones of the music coming from within the building. Jem is not going to be happy I didn’t get a ride with him (or one of the brothers), but since he also doesn’t own me, he can go to hell as well. I’m tired of being bossed around and, when it comes to crunch time, getting shit on.
Things between me and Josh have been tense this week—or rather, Josh has been like a bear with a sore head this week. He’s driven me nearly over the edge. At least twice I’ve considered getting on the train and going home before he was released from the hospital. It’s only the fact that I know he’s so stressed that’s kept me level and calm. None of this is easy for him. The surgeries, the infection and the hospital stay is only the first hurdle. He now has a long recovery ahead. Physiotherapy will commence to strengthen his chest and back muscles where the bullet hit him. The doctor warned him this could take months. Josh wasn’t happy hearing this. He wants to be back on his motorcycle sooner rather than later, but he can’t ride if he doesn’t have the upper body strength to do it. I know he’s worried the Club will boot him out if he can’t get back on his bike, but honestly, I’m wondering if that would be a bad thing.
Not that I would ever say this to him.
I value my life.
With all this going on, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to drop the bombshell that I slept with Jem on him, too. Cowardly? Definitely, but the mood my brother has been in this week, he’s likely to put me on the train to Manchester himself and put Jem six feet underground.
Even so, I should have told Josh straight away. I should have come clean, admitted my misdemeanour, and dealt with the fallout, but every time I try to broach the topic the words stick in my throat. Guilt is a demon that eats at me daily, yet the thought of admitting what I did makes my stomach roil. I talk myself out of it, convincing myself it was a one-off, that it won’t happen again, and so far, that has been true. Jem has avoided me and I’ve avoided him. That’s been easy to do.
Until tonight.
There is no chance in hell we can avoid each other tonight. The only saving grace is we’re going to be in a room full of people, so that will make it easier to steer clear of him.
I just need to show my face for a few hours and then I can get the heck out of here.
Paying the driver, I climb out of the vehicle, and head for the main gate, smoothing down my skirt, even though it doesn’t need fixing. King is already opening the foot entrance gate as I approach. He gives me a chin lift, which I’ve come to learn is a ‘hello’ from these men, but he doesn’t say anything to me. I’ve already had a handful of text messages from both Beth and Sofia, asking where I am.
I messaged them both back, telling them I was on my way, so they didn’t worry. I don’t want to discuss why I’m late, especially because the reason seems so petty. What does it matter who brings Josh to the party? It doesn’t…
I have no idea why it matters so much to me either, only that it does.
I hear the gate clang as King shuts it behind me, cutting off my means of escape. Bugger.
I don’t want to go inside the clubhouse, and for a moment, I think about calling the taxi back and going home—and by that I mean back to Manchester. I’ve already stayed longer than I should. Six weeks. My bosses have been fairly relaxed about me having time off, more lenient than I have any right to expect. I know Josh was incredibly ill, but compassion only goes so far. Any other employer would be pitching a fit to rival all fits. I’m sure the only reason I haven’t been thrown out on my ear is because of who Grant is. The centre where I work receives hefty local funding from my stepfather’s council office. I know they don’t want to rock the boat and risk losing it by sacking his stepdaughter, so for now they’re sucking it up and letting me work remotely while using my vacation time and every other piece of time owed or sick leave I can stitch together as necessary. Frankly, I don’t care what the reason is. I’m just glad they are not kicking up a stink—yet. On this occasion, I’m more than happy to use my affiliations to Grant to keep my job. I really don’t like to throw his name around, but I will if I need to, and staying with Josh in Kingsley is currently more important than my pride.
But Josh is better. He doesn’t need me now. Today has proved that. Granted, I don’t have a vehicle to pick him up in, but I could have been with him. I don’t know why he excluded me. Has he had enough of me, too? Have I overstayed?
Of course I have.
Six weeks I’ve been in his bloody pocket. He’s probably sick to death of me.
I should leave, but then he only just left the hospital after two major operations, and an infection. Although he’s on the road to recovery, he’s still recovering. He still needs help. How can I leave him like this? What kind of sister would I be to just walk away?
I ignore the fact I’m not needed. Not really.
He’ll have people around.
Friends.
The Club.
I close this thought down as I push through the main doors and step into the foyer of the clubhouse.
Josh is already here and when I slip into the back of the crowded common room, he’s being greeted by his brothers like a long-lost family member. Jem, I notice, is among the men, his patented smile in place, looking his usual glorious self. I try not to ogle him, but it’s not easy when I know what it feels like to be with the man.
I swallow hard and leave the crowd behind, heading over to the empty bar—well, almost empty. Tap, one of the older Club brothers, is sitting at one end, a pint glass nursed between his hands. I ignore him and focus on the prospect—Lucas—who is wandering towards me.
He doesn’t speak to me, simply gives me a lift of his chin, which I interpret as ‘what can I get you?’ I wish these men would learn to use their words.
“I’ll have a vodka, please.”
“Straight up?” he asks.
I nod.
He comes back with a glass of what is absolutely not a bar measure. I sip, not swig. I need a drink, but I don’t want to get hammered. Not with Jem loitering around. I need to keep my guard up. The last thing I need is my defences to fall and to start rubbing up against him like a horny dog in front of my brother.
I’m not sure how he’s going to receive me being here. Will he reveal our secret and tell Josh what we did, or will he ignore me completely? I have no idea what to expect and the uncertainty is driving me crazy.
“Are you hiding over here?” Jamie’s voice startles me.
I turn to her, sloshing the vodka in the bottom of the glass. Of all the w
omen in the Club, she’s the one that I’m least close to—mainly because she’s got a mouth like a sailor and frankly, scares me a little. She has a penchant for saying whatever thoughts are in her head without filter. I should find this refreshing, but truthfully, I find it rather disturbing. I never knew people could be so honest.
“No, of course not. I just needed a drink before the bar gets busy.”
Her red hair dances around her shoulders as she leans back against the counter, her eyes sparkling with scepticism. She also sees too much.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you slipping in late, girly.”
“I was stuck in traffic,” I lie. “Did Josh notice I was late?”
“It freaks me out when you call Wade Josh.”
“It is his name.”
“He’ll always be Wade to me.”
And probably to everyone in this room. I am doomed to be the only person on the planet who calls him Josh. Maybe I should acquiesce and call him Wade, too…
“And I don’t think he had a chance to notice you were late.” Jamie tilts her head to the side. “So, now Wade’s out of the hospital what’re your plans, Piper?”
This is the million-pound question. “I suppose I should think about returning to Manchester at some point. I can’t keep sleeping in my brother’s spare room forever.”
“Or, you know, you could just stay.”
“In Kingsley?”
She shrugs, glancing over at the crowd as a ruckus laugh erupts over something Derek says, although what, I don’t know.
“Why not? Your brother’s here, and I know you haven’t always seen eye to eye with the Club side of shit, but you’re over that now, right?”
I feel my face warm a little at her words. Did I really project that much disdain? Clearly, I need to hide my feelings more.
“I didn’t mean any ill will—”
Jamie’s hand comes up. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. My dad died a few years back. I blamed the Club for it, and I did a few things I’m not really proud of. I wasn’t very nice for a period of time, so I get the whole projecting thing.”
I freeze at her words and it takes me a moment to reclaim my voice. I had absolutely no idea about her father.
“I’m so sorry, Jamie.”
She shrugs, as if she hasn’t just dropped that bomb on me. “Don’t be. Dad knew it was a risk, but he didn’t care. He loved this Club and everyone in it. Always did.” She glances into her glass. “Jeff was a foolish idiot, but his death wasn’t the Club’s fault, and I’m sure whatever happened between you and Wade wasn’t the Club’s fault either.” She smiles as she says it, but there’s a hint of sadness in her words.
She’s right about that, too. I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last few weeks and reflect. The Club didn’t take my brother from me. Josh would have gone either way. The Lost Saxons was just a convenient escape route at the time.
“You’re angry at your father?” I ask, hesitantly.
“For dying? Fuck yeah. If he’d been a normal dad, he’d still be here.” She takes another swig of her drink, this one longer and deeper. “But I can’t turn back time and I wouldn’t want to either. He’s gone and I hate that he is, but he gave me this.”
She gestures around the room at the motley crew of men and women gathered around my brother. There’s a lot of smiling and laughing going on, even Josh seems to be happy for the first time in weeks.
“If you can hack the Club shit that comes with this life, it’s worth it,” Jamie continues. “Having people who care about you, protection, security, family. Overbearing fuckers who are up in your shit for the rest of your days—yeah, it’s worth it. If anything ever happens to you, knowing you and any rug rats you have will be taken care of makes everything else worthwhile. Plus, you get a group of sisters that’ll have your back forever. You can’t ask for better than that.”
I let that settle in my brain for a moment. She makes it sound so good, so appealing. Except she left out the weeks spent in hospital recovering from bullet wounds, potential prison visits and dead fathers. I don’t think it’s all sunshine and rainbows, but I am starting to like these people more than I should. In the time I’ve been here they’ve been nothing but kind to me, as much as I’ve tried to avoid getting embroiled with them.
“So, will you stay?” she presses.
“As appealing as that all sounds, I can’t,” I tell her. “I have a job in Manchester, a life there.”
Although it’s not much of a life. The only thing tying me there really is Cami, which is a huge factor. Here, I have my brother, the start of some crazy but potentially interesting friendships, and Jem…
Good God.
“So, get a job here.”
“It’s not really that simple.”
“Of course it is. Beth’s opening her new office soon. If she can start up her own business, I’m sure someone as smart as you can come up with something.”
I smile at her, but I don’t know how to answer her without saying something she might take the wrong way. Fortunately, I don’t need to say anything because my brother is making a beeline for me. He pulls me to his side and kisses the top of my head in a gesture so brotherly, my heart swells.
Would it be so bad staying here?
It also makes me wonder if him asking Weed to pick him up wasn’t a slight, after all. It’s so easy to read into everything while our relationship is still so uncertain.
“There you are. I couldn’t see you in the crowd and I was accosted as soon as I got here.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I tell him. “You looked like you were having fun.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, these guys like to do shit to make me squirm.” He roves a gaze over me. “You doing okay?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He looks tired and a little pale.
He huffs. “I’m fine, and getting tired of that question.”
“I see they didn’t remove his grumpy fucking dickhead gene in the hospital,” Logan quips as he comes up beside us, earning him a thwack to the gut from Josh. It would have put me on my back if he hit me that hard, but Logan barely flinches. He does laugh, though, before taking a sip of his pint.
“You’re hilarious,” Josh mutters.
“He’s funnier than you, fuckface,” Weed fires back with a grin as he joins us.
Surrounded by these huge men, I should feel afraid. When I first arrived in Kingsley, I would have done, but now, I don’t. I feel a strange sense of belonging.
“How’s my favourite Wade?” Weed asks.
I blink.
Oh. Me? Weed’s talking about me. I don’t point out that I’m not a Wade, and that my surname is in fact Ellis. Grant tried to insist I use Hollander-Ellis after he married Mum, but I rarely use the double-barrelled moniker and haven’t done for the past decade.
“I’m fine and dandy,” I tell him.
This makes him guffaw. “Fine and fucking dandy. Where do you come up with this shit? I fucking love your sister, Wade. She’s a riot.”
Josh suddenly stiffens. “What the fuck did I say Weed?”
Weed’s hands go up defensively. “Is your blood pressure okay, buddy? You’ve got this twitch in your eye…”
“You touch her, I’ll cut your balls off.”
Weed groans. “You had to say that, didn’t you?”
Logan nearly chokes on his pint and then moves quickly to fist a hand in my brother’s kutte before he can reach out and, I assume, throttle Weed.
“She’s off limits, you hear me?” Josh growls in a voice I’ve never heard him use before, and honestly, it scares me a little. It’s a side of him I’ve never seen before. Weed seems wholly unperturbed by it, however. “No brother touches her. I mean it, Weed, you go near my little sister and I’ll cut your fucking dick off and feed it to you.”
Impressive imagery.
Terrifying, too, because I’m certain he will follow through with this threat to the letter.
W
eed holds his hands up in supplication. “I got it, brother. Sheesh, calm down. Your sister’s virtue is safe from me. For now.” He wiggles his brows at me.
Oh my God.
Then my heart starts to gallop in my chest and the back of my neck feels warm.
I slept with Jem.
I fucked him in Josh’s flat a week ago.
It was the best sex of my life.
Even thinking about it makes between my legs dampen.
I thought Josh would be annoyed I slept with Jem, put out maybe, but judging from that reaction, my brother is going to go nuclear. This could be the end of our rekindling. He’s probably going to kill Jem as well. I don’t want to be the reason for that. It reaffirms my belief that firstly, he can never know, and secondly, that I need to stay far away from Jem. Like another postcode far. Maybe even another country.
“I will kill you,” Josh growls at Weed.
“No one’s killing anyone,” Logan says, sounding like an irritated father.
I need to calm this situation down. Quickly.
“While I’m grateful for your clumsy attempt to defend my um… virtue,” I say to Josh, “I’m not off limits, and I don’t need your protection. I can look after myself.” I turn to Weed. “You’re a very nice chap, but you’re not my type. I like my men a little more… grown up.”
Although I chose Jem, so…
Logan makes a pained sound.
Weed rubs at his chest and for a moment reminds me of Jem when he says, “Ouch, Piper. I thought we were friends.”
“We are, which is why I’m saving your life from my brother.”
Weed laughs. “It’s sweet that you think I need protection from this fucker.”
“Give me a few weeks to get back on my feet,” Josh says darkly, “and I’ll show you how much fucking protection you need.”
Bloody hell. The testosterone in the room is clogging my throat.
I glance across the bar and my gaze catches on Jem, who is standing talking with Beth and his sisters. When his eyes lift to me, my breath locks in my chest. My legs go wobbly and my brain short circuits. I swore I wouldn’t care, that I wouldn’t be affected by him, but I am. My body reacts without permission. It remembers what he did to me, it remembers just how talented he is and when his tongue dips out to wet his bottom lip, the apex between my thighs tingles.
Forbidden Rider: A Lost Saxons Novel #5 Page 19
