Satan's Sons MC Romance Series Book 4: Forbidden

by Simone Elise

  I grinned. “I’m not even dating him. And this is Dad’s reaction.” I waved a hand at my fuming father. “I just said we had tea and he looks after me, and Dad reacts like this.”

  “She has a mark on her neck. They’ve been doing more than having fucking tea!” Dad’s fists pounded the table, causing me to jump.

  “Hannah wouldn’t lie,” Granddad said firmly. I felt automatically guilty because I was lying. Not about who marked me, I was just keeping that to myself, but about the cancer. I was lying every time I said I was fine.

  Dad’s eyes were back on me, his eyes locked with mine. “No, she wouldn’t.” And just like that the tension in the air was cut in half. “Fine. I’ll stay away from him. But if he touches you in front of me then I will not be held responsible for what I do.”

  I smiled. That was Dad’s way of trusting me. I got up. There was no need to say anything else. Dad trusted me. And he should. I wouldn’t fall in love with any man. I was dying young and I wasn’t planning on leaving someone heartbroken over me.

  Which was the main reason why I was going to make sure that Brad and I weren’t alone together again. I didn’t want him hurting after I die. He already looked at me as a friend and that was enough. A friend’s death you can move on from, but a girlfriend’s death leaves a different scar.

  Heck, not that I’d ever be his girlfriend. He saw me as a young child who currently, according to him, was rebelling.

  I was positive he was going to ignore me. So I was surprised when he stood in my way.

  “Hannah, can I have your phone?” he asked, way too nicely.

  “Tyson has it.” I frowned. “And why would you want it?”

  He glanced at Dad. “Just need to update the software.”

  “Right,” I said, not buying it whatsoever. So much for not lying to each other. I looked at Dad. Why was he giving Brad a thankful smile?

  “Tyson, can I have Hannah’s phone?” Brad said to Tyson but kept his eyes on me. I saw a hell of a lot of anger behind his calm voice. His eyes were painted in fury.

  Tyson handed my phone to him.

  “I’ll just need it for an hour. You aren’t leaving yet?” Brad’s eyes were still locked with mine.

  “Nah, I have to speak with Eve about this stupid party she’s throwing.” I looked at my phone and my heart jumped. I couldn’t have him seeing what I had been looking at. I snatched the phone from his hand, unlocked it, deleted the pages and the history and handed it back to him.

  He frowned at my abrupt behavior and I smiled. I hoped he didn’t question me on it.

  “I’ll drop it by the house when it’s done.” Brad’s eyes dropped to the mark on my neck and he smirked at me, as if he was proud.

  I shook my head. Thanks to him and his mark, I had scored the attention of my brother and, in the end, Dad.

  “No worries, Brad.” I walked around him and headed for the exit. I didn’t really give another thought as to why he wanted my phone. He was all over the technology side of things. I pushed the clubhouse door open. Now to face Eve.

  God, I hoped she had dropped the idea of me pleading with Dad to let her have her party.

  Chapter Eight

  Hannah

  “So, have you eaten?”

  I rolled over on the hotel bed. “Nope,” I said into the phone. “But before you start ranting at me, I will.”

  “Hannah, you’ve been avoiding food all week.” Layla’s concern was clear in her voice. “I’m sorry I had to bail on you tonight.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up. She had been very cagey about it. All I knew was on Saturday night she had to do something for Cyrus.

  “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Try me.”

  “I have to sit down with your dad and talk numbers.” The dread was clear in her voice. “Do you have any idea how terrifying your dad is?”

  I laughed. “He isn’t that bad.”

  “Yes, he is. And your brother is just as bad. I swear Tyson’s favorite thing to do is glare at me.” Layla seemed to really dislike my brother at the moment. “I don’t know what his problem is!”

  “You sat together on Monday last week in English, right? Was he okay then?”

  “Nope. All I got was short answers and his normal rude behavior.”

  “Maybe he is jealous.”

  “Of what?!”

  “From what I’ve heard, you got on with Cameron.”

  She groaned into the phone. “I gave him a black eye!”

  “Yeah and he is telling everyone he got it from someone else.” I laughed. I’d overheard Cameron explain his black eye to Dad. Something about a bar fight, which normally would score the attention of police and if there was one thing Dad hated, it was his members scoring the attention of the police.

  But Cameron didn’t have the police’s attention. He just copped a black eye for touching Layla. The girl could punch.

  “So, are you just sitting down with Dad or will your boyfriend be there?” I smugly smirked, knowing how much she would hate me referring to Tyson as her boyfriend.

  “Real mature, Hannah.”

  “Well, I’m ordering room service.”

  “Good. I want you eating. But I still don’t see why you can’t go home.” Her normal concerns about me not being home were clear in her voice. It had been my first week of radiation. I had been at the hospital twice a day. I was glad it was just a once a day occurrence from now on.

  I was waiting to get sore or break out in a rash. But so far I hadn’t encountered any problems. It was painless.

  “I just can’t lie to them tonight.” I didn’t have the strength. I knew the exhaustion would hit me. Being tired from radiation was a common side effect. I couldn’t say I was fine one more time. I don’t know why, but it seemed I was attracting everyone’s attention right now.

  Tyson had for some reason today made it his mission to keep asking me if I was okay. I wanted to know who put the sign around my neck saying I wasn’t!

  “Fair enough. Look, I have to go. I’ve just pulled into hell on earth.”

  I grinned. “So you’re at my house then?”

  “Yes, it’s a fucking mansion. Why couldn’t he talk to me at the clubhouse?”

  “He’s making it more personal.” I kept grinning, knowing Dad. “Feel honored. No one is allowed in our house. Not even members.”

  “Guess I’m just lucky,” she scoffed, hating her luck right now.

  “Have a good night.”

  “Like that is going to happen if your brother is involved.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him. I really think there is a reason behind his behavior.”

  “Yeah, he’s a self-absorbed human being,” she snapped. “Seriously, if he has a problem with me, he should just say it. Not being so childish that he ignores me, and this is after he made an effort to be nice at that party.”

  Layla explained what happened at the party. Honestly, I’m surprised Tyson had the self-control to let her out of his sight.

  “I have a feeling your night is going to turn around,” I said as there was a knock on my door.

  “Doubtful. Very doubtful.”

  “My brother is known for picking up a girl’s mood,” I sniggered, knowing Tyson.

  “Well, he puts me in a foul mood. Honestly the second your dad is done with me, I’m out of the haunted mansion.”

  “Hey, that’s my house you are calling haunted!”

  “Any house that has Tyson Wilson living in it is haunted.”

  I laughed. “With ex-girlfriends maybe.”

  When I thought about it, though, Tyson never let a girl come back to our house. He would always drag them to his dorm room.

  In fact, he had never brought one girl to the house. I was going to tell Layla that so she didn’t feel like one of the many but there was another knock on my door.

  “Okay, I’m going to face my fate. I’ll see you
tomorrow,” Layla said into the phone and then hung up, not giving me a chance to tell her Tyson didn’t let girls come over to our house.

  There was another knock on my door. Who could it be? I hadn’t ordered room service yet.

  I opened the door with a forced smile on my face, ready to be nice to whatever staff member had decided to annoy me. Then my smile fell. It wasn’t a staff member of the hotel.

  It was Brad.

  Chapter Nine

  Layla

  Just be polite and then get out of there. My hand hovered over the doorbell. Or I could bail and tell Cyrus I couldn’t do it. Make up an excuse that Reaper scares the hell out of me and I couldn’t be in a room with him alone.

  But Cyrus knew Reaper wouldn’t hurt me. If anything, all Reaper had done was be nice to me.

  I groaned. Just be polite. I pushed the doorbell. Just be polite. Give the facts and then bolt.

  The door opened and there stood Satan himself: Tyson. He went cold on me that Monday and had ignored me for the past two weeks. At first, I shrugged off his cold front and was polite and made conversation with him. I got one-word answers in return.

  That lasted for five days. FIVE DAYS I put up with it! Nearly a full week. Then I picked up the hint that he wanted nothing to do with me. I went from being polite to ignoring him back. We didn’t speak. We didn’t look at each other.

  And I hoped his Dad wasn’t planning on him being in the meeting. The meeting I was being forced to attend because I did the fucking books.

  I was cursing the day I’d ever agreed to do the books.

  He stood back and didn’t welcome me in. He didn’t even say a word and I didn’t expect him to. He was a dick. A selfish dick. And I hated the fact that I let him touch me. Well, that would never happen again. Thank god we didn’t have sex that night.

  I walked past him, following Reaper’s voice.

  I walked into the study and my life got a bit shittier when Cameron turned around. He would be dead if Cyrus knew he made a move on me. Seriously, you don’t just feel up a girl! Especially one that has no interest in you whatsoever.

  “Layla, babe. How are you?” He actually had the guts to grin at me.

  “Fine. How’s the eye?” Had I made my point when I punched him? “Personally, I think you got off lightly because my right hook is much meaner. My left not so good.” I shrugged, carefree. “But clearly good enough to leave a bruise.” And now I was the one grinning as his face soured.

  Reaper was smirking, looking between us. “So much for a bar fight, Cameron.”

  “He got off lightly. Cyrus would have killed him.” I gave Cameron a pointed look. Cyrus would hurt him if he knew. “In fact, I think it would have been enough for him to pull his gun out. Do you squirm when a gun is pointed at you, Cameron?” I turned to look at him and I had never disliked someone as much as I dislike him.

  You don’t touch a girl when she says no. Fact. Even bikers understood that.

  “I told you I was sorry,” Cameron snapped at me. “You’ve already brought it to my president’s attention now. I don’t see why you need to bring it to yours,” he gritted out, like he was in trouble now because I had mentioned it.

  “He isn’t my president. He is my dad,” I corrected him. “The last man that did what you did to me got his hand shot off.” And that was true. I was fourteen.

  “I’ll handle it, Layla. You don’t need to get Cyrus involved,” Reaper said, getting up, and I had to break my glare off of Cameron to look at him.

  “It was handled when I punched him. You don’t need to get involved.” I looked at his paperwork. “You ready to talk business now?”

  “Yeah take a seat, and, Cameron, fuck off.” Reaper sat back down. I wished I could fast forward the next hour. It wouldn’t take longer than an hour, right? “Tyson, close the door.”

  I pinched my eyes shut for a second. Great, he was still around. Satan. Typically, he would still be around. He took the armchair next to mine. I wanted nothing more than to move my chair further from his. I knew it was childish but it was true and I wasn’t a liar.

  If he knew what was good for him, he better remain silent.

  I would tell them what I had to. And then I was leaving and telling Cyrus a new rule: I would be going to no meeting without him.

  I would not be up against and in a room alone with the Wilson boys again. Reaper and Tyson were as deadly as each other.

  Turned out Tyson was a lot like his Dad, with a reputation leading up to his father’s.

  I had to respect him for it. Being the Reaper’s son wouldn’t be easy. But still, that didn’t mean you treated women like shit. How you treat a woman says a lot about a man.

  “How many fronts have you lot set up by now?” Reaper lit up a cigarette and cursed when his phone started ringing. He frowned at whoever was calling and answered.

  I didn’t want to, in fact, everything was telling me not to. But my eyes glanced at Tyson, whose eyes were on me. He wasn’t glaring at me and I’d have to say that was a miracle. In fact, the only thing painted in his blue eyes was regret.

  “Layla, we will have to reschedule.” Reaper got up abruptly. “Abby has a student camped out at her car.”

  “Mum, already?” Tyson asked, sitting up.

  “Yeah, she’s fine. Waiting for me to tell him to fuck off. Sorry, Layla.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I got up.

  “I’d get Brad to handle it but he’s fucked off.” Reaper ran a hand through his hair. “When are you free again?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Go rescue your wife. Whenever you want to do it, I’m free.” I didn’t exactly have a lot to do after school.

  “I’ll do it,” Tyson said. And my head snapped at him. He didn’t just say that. “I know what you want to know. I can get the details off Layla.”

  Was he insane? I was not being in a room alone with him! Nope. Not now. Not ever. “It’s fine, we can reschedule.” I looked at Tyson coldly. He better keep his mouth shut.

  “Don’t really see a point in that when we can do it tonight.” He looked at me. Not with anger or annoyance, but something else was in his eyes.

  Well, he could go get fucked.

  “I’m happy to wait.” I pulled out my phone, checking the time. I could crash Hannah’s hotel room.

  “Don’t want you to get the wrong impression of the club.” Tyson looked at Reaper. “Cameron has already left one impression.”

  What was he getting at? That I would think badly of them if they canceled? God, didn’t he know I was a better person than that? “My impression of the club hasn’t changed.”

  “Yeah, because we left a bad impression.” Tyson crossed his arms, challenging me.

  “Look, your dad needs to go rescue your mum and you’re holding him up.”

  “Say you’ll stay and he can go.” Tyson had the nerve to ask that of me!

  He was really putting me on the spot. I did not want to be alone with him. How could I have a conversation with someone I’d swore never to speak to again? I narrowed my eyes at him. He was doing this on fucking purpose.

  “Fine. I’ll stay.” I gritted out and glared at him. I would not say one word to him. Nope. Not one word. As soon as Reaper left and was headed for Abby, I was leaving as well. As for the business we were meant to talk about, well, it could wait.

  I was not giving him one detail.

  I was going to be stubborn.

  “Leave you two to it. Sorry, Layla. Didn’t realize I was leaving a bad impression.” Reaper glanced at his son, arching his eyebrows.

  “You aren’t and haven’t,” I corrected him and shot a glare at Tyson. Him and his mouth.

  Reaper was looking at his son with a knowing smile. “Still, I’ll leave my son to give you a better impression.” He looked harder at Tyson. “Don’t fuck it up, Tyson.”

  “Wouldn’t dare, Dad.”

  Ideas of how I could pay back Tyson for this star
ted to flash through my mind. Maybe I could put Eve up to annoying him. Hannah wouldn’t do it. She cared too much what he thought.

  Reaper said bye and left. He gave Tyson an expression I didn’t understand. It was like they’d had a silent conversation while I stood there.

  I heard the front door close and I had to face the fact that I was alone in a house with Tyson.

  “So, do you want to sit down?” Tyson said.

  I glared at him. Suddenly I didn’t want to sit down, just to spite him. I just had to wait till Reaper was gone and then I was leaving.

  “Dad didn’t write down questions but I roughly know what he wants to know.” Tyson turned to face me.

  I was still standing and still glaring at him. I wasn’t speaking to him. Not now. Not ever.

  “You going to sit down?”

  I heard a motorbike start up. As soon as the noise of the engine disappeared I was out of here.

  It slowly started to disappear and I moved across the room. I was leaving. And Tyson realized it. He was quick to block my exit.

  “Layla, don’t leave.” He stood firmly in my way, filling the doorway. I couldn’t bolt if I wanted to. Which was what I was trying to do. Bolt. “Will you at least look at me?”

  I was glaring at the carpet. I wanted him to move but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of a conversation with me.

  “So, not talking to me?” He crossed his arms.

  I scoffed. He was meant to be smart. I kept glaring at the carpet. I wanted him to move. But I didn’t want to speak to him or touch him. So I just stood there. Waiting for him to give up.

  “I guess I deserve this,” he sighed. “Okay, get it off your chest.”

  I was not giving him the pleasure of an argument with me. I was not getting anything off my chest. I was not speaking to him.

  He could go get fucked.

  “Layla, just say one word to me.”

  Nope. Not happening. Then he did something he really shouldn’t have. He touched me. I swiped his hand off my cheek.

  “Don’t touch me.” I couldn’t hold back the venom in my voice. He was rude. He was moody. And he sure as fuck was a dick.

  “And finally she speaks.” He smiled at me.