Snatch: Cerberus MC Book 5

by Marie James

  I almost argue the point with her, but my mind is grinding trying to figure out a way to get Snatch and I out of this situation.

  “What do you want?” I hiss. “That shit was shut down a long time ago.”

  Well, the last week has felt like a lifetime to me, so I’m not really lying.

  “Marriage,” she says without even blinking. “And babies.”

  I laugh like a patient in an insane asylum as she watches on with an unimpressed look on her face. When I finally gain marginal composure, I look up at her. “Tell the world, sweetheart. Marrying you is the last thing on Earth I’d do. Babies? You’re off your rocker. I’d chop my dick off first.”

  I notice the slight fall of her face, but she schools it until her malicious intent is all that can be interpreted. There’s no way I can give into her, trading one form of hell for a lifetime of misery instead. Not a fucking chance.

  “You should’ve hit Snatch with your little blackmail plan. I couldn’t care less if people knew. He’s the one who refused to tell anyone.”

  Her anger turns to designed calculation, and immediately I know I’m fucked.

  “Speaking of your boyfriend.” She smiles.

  I have never wanted to throat punch a woman so bad in my life, which is saying a lot because nine times out of ten when on missions there’s a woman involved, sometimes running the sex trade houses we infiltrate.

  “He’s not,” I argue, my last futile attempt to turn this around.

  “When he’s ready to kiss and make up from your little tiff last week, you shut him down. You’ll tell him you moved on. You love me, and he was just an indiscretion you want to forget ever happened.”

  “He’ll never believe it.”

  “You better make him believe. If this shit breaks open, it’s his life that will be ruined. I know you don’t give a shit about everyone knowing, but he does.”

  “Why the fuck are you doing this?”

  I knew she was twisted and jealous, but fuck if this doesn’t take the cake. Kincaid should’ve sent her ass packing years ago, before she made Em feel like shit, almost ruined things between Kid, and treated Misty like she was a pariah.

  “I’m not going to be a club whore for the rest of my life. Twenty-five seems as good a time as any to get serious and settle down,” she explains as if her reasoning is sound and bulletproof.

  “And the fact that I’ll never love you doesn’t even factor in your little plan?” Surely she can see how insane this whole fucking thing is.

  “Love will come later,” she says as cool as ice. With a quick pat on my heaving chest, she makes her way to the door. “I’ll give you forty-eight hours to decide. Check the time, baby. You won’t get a second more.”

  I don’t even make it to the toilet as my body rejects her words and every last drop of beer I consumed today while trying to forget about the man next door.

  Chapter 32

  Snatch

  Makayla got justice tonight, her brother Scorpion, President of the Renegade MC, killing the man who’s been violating her for years without so much as a second thought. Dom is all but twitching in the driver’s seat as he drives toward the clubhouse. I can only imagine the level of anger he’s feeling because Scorpion took his ability to avenge Makayla from him, but he has to know that the MC problem had to be dealt with by the MC President. Anything short of Scorpion pulling that fucking trigger tonight, sending Grinder to hell exactly where he belongs, would leave Mak vulnerable to retaliation and revenge.

  Not a word is spoken on the way to the clubhouse. We sit in heavy silence, reflecting on the events of tonight. It all means something different to each of us. Dominic will struggle with Scorpion’s actions. More than likely, Mak will feel relief at knowing her perpetrator is dead, but I know from experience from rescuing victimized women that it will take forever to heal. I’m grateful they have each other to lean on, and hopefully some good comes from all of this.

  Me?

  I stare out the window without seeing a damn thing, the sights so familiar it’s as if I no longer pay attention to my surroundings anymore. My mind wanders back to the argument Itchy and I had a little over a week ago, which also happens to be the very last day he even looked in my direction. Keeping our distance from one another while under the watchful eye of everyone isn’t anything new to us. It’s catching his eye, finding that glint of hope and desire at the possibility of spending the night in each other’s arms that’s crushing me. He won’t even look my way. He goes so far as to get up and leave the room when I enter, and the door between our rooms remains locked. Of course, I only test it when he’s gone because catching me walking into his room would give him hope I wasn’t ready to provide.

  Until right now.

  A split second delay on Scorpion’s part tonight would’ve meant Dominic losing the love of his life, even if he’s too stubborn to admit how head over heels he is with her. The thought of losing Itchy that way, in any way, nearly makes me want to ask Dominic to pull over so I can puke. Just the prospect crushes my heart and fills me with an animalistic desire to protect him at all costs.

  Letting those emotions wash over me, allowing my mind to actually take in what my heart wants, what it needs, the decision to give him everything he could ever desire is the easiest one I’ve ever made. Regret fills my blood, making me wish I could turn back time and just agree with him from day one. We’ve lost so much time, and every second of pain and distance rests solely on my shoulders.

  I climb out of the SUV with only a quick ‘thanks’ in Dom’s direction. I’m a renewed man, one filled with determination and purpose as I walk into the clubhouse. The noise of an impromptu party vibrates through the door knob as I reach to turn it. The guys that were on bikes at the meeting made it back just a few minutes before us, but that didn’t slow them from cranking on the stereo and passing beer and shots around. Itchy, Ace and Snake were instructed to stay back at the clubhouse since Em, Khloe, Misty, Rose, and Griffin and the twins were here.

  I take in the room, surprised to see Shadow, Kid and even Kincaid in the living room. Even more shocking is their women sitting around with them. I know tonight was intense, but not to the point of throwing a party like this.

  Khloe smiles over at Snake as he acts like the dumb ass that he is, but the air surrounding the other women is thick and filled with mild disdain even though they're too classy to be outright rude, they’re unimpressed with whatever the fuck is going on.

  “Beer?” Skid asks but shoves a bottle in my hand not waiting for my answer.

  “What’s going on?” My eyes scan the small crowd looking for answers.

  They narrow when they land on Itchy, but more so from the sight of Snapper sitting on his lap running her overly long fingernail down the center of his chest. His eyes widen when he sees me as if he hates being caught in such an intimate position with the one club girl I have no love lost for.

  Snapper notices the direction of his eyes, finding mine as I move farther into the room. I need to talk to him and wonder for the quickest of seconds if I shouldn’t just blurt out my feelings for him. As far as grand gestures go, I think a proclamation of love with the intent to spend the rest of my life making up my asshole ways to him would rank pretty fucking close to the top.

  “We’re celebrating!” Skid says with a weird joy that makes my skin crawl.

  I know before he even continues that my world is going to be rocked to the core.

  “Itchy and I are getting married!” Snapper declares from my lover’s lap.

  I tilt my head, confused at first but then the chuckle at being played with escapes my lips. Only when Snapper frowns at my reaction, does my brain take the time to catch up on everything going on around me. Several members are holding up beers in salute, Em and Misty look like they’re going to be sick at the prospect of Snapper having a tighter bond to the club.

  She’s not lying. I pushed him so far away from me he’s considering being in a committed relationship, one with vo
ws before God with one of the most heinous women the MC has ever seen. I swallow half my beer before looking at him again. His eyes avoid mine just as they have for the last week.

  My lip twitches in barely controlled anger, but somehow I’m able to keep my wits about me. If he’s choosing her, there’s no way I’ll embarrass myself by outing us in front of everyone. What I don’t keep under control is my mouth when it comes to being the asshole everyone has recently assigned as my new everyday demeanor. They have expected me to act a certain way for a while now. Tonight, I have no intention of disappointing them.

  Since Itchy refuses to talk and Snapper seems hell bent to maintain eye contact, I direct my question to her.

  “He fucking knock you up or something?”

  She grins, unfazed by the accusation, but I hear one of the other women hiss in surprise. No one steps in. Kid doesn’t say a thing. Kincaid remains silent when he’s normally the one who’d correct anyone for speaking to a woman the way I just did.

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Snake slurs from the other side of the room.

  She ignores Snake, turning her attention back to Itchy.

  “I’m not pregnant yet, but Robert and I plan to start our family very soon.”

  I see red at her using his first name. A certain level of ownership or blood given familial bond is needed for anyone calling an MC member by the name their mother gave them. She doesn’t have that, does she? Em and Dominic can call Kincaid Diego all day long. I’ve heard Khloe say Dustin more than once, but his name coming from her over done lips is sacrilegious to the extreme.

  I’m so pissed at her choice of moniker that it takes me a long moment to analyze the rest of her sentence.

  Family?

  He’s going to have children with her. I’m a second away from pinching myself and trying to figure out how I landed in the fucking Twilight Zone when Snake says something that I actually need to hear the answer to.

  “Does this mean we don’t get to fuck no more?” He punctuates the question with a burp.

  I wait for Itchy to look over at the slob everyone can’t help but love, beg him with my mind to examine his decision long and hard, to take into account the women she’s hurt in this club, the way she’d fuck anyone anytime. Then I remember that he didn’t have a problem with Darby’s over promiscuous antics. He was willing to be in a triad with her. My stomach roils at the thought he’d ask me to ever touch the nasty redheaded bitch.

  “Nope,” she says finally answering Snake but keeping her eyes glued to Itchy. “I can’t risk the chance of ending up with one of your idiot babies.”

  I take a menacing step toward her, but Skid presses his hand to my chest.

  “He was good enough for you to fuck for the last five years,” I sneer. “But not good enough to fill your whore of a womb with a baby?”

  I wait for the backlash from my President. It never comes. She glares at me and back down at Itchy, who for a man that has promised to spend the rest of his life with someone remains eerily silent. I hate the sight of the glistening diamond on her finger, hate the way she’s resting possessively on the man not thirty minutes ago I was certain I’d spend my life with.

  “Thanks, man,” Snake says.

  “Shut up,” I tell him. “You are a fucking idiot, but this skank doesn’t have the right to say it. As a matter of fact, I think such disrespectful words are enough to get her kicked out of the club.”

  She sobers quickly when I turn to look at Kincaid.

  “You’re treading on thin ice already, Snapper.” He’s failed me too. “Itchy, get her under control. I’d hate to lose you because she can’t keep her talons out of everyone.”

  I revel in the look of disappointment on Snapper’s face, but when her eyes meet mine again they turn devilish, an evil smirk playing on her lips.

  “You seem more concerned than I figured you would Snatch. Something on your mind? Something you feel the urge to share with the club other than slinging insults my way?”

  She knows, and she’s challenging me. I feel betrayed that Itchy would go to her and tell her about us.

  Kid scoots to the edge of his chair, and Khloe grips his hand with hers. They support me. I can feel it, but it’s not enough to risk everything, especially when I look over at Itchy one last time only to find him studying the label on the neck of his beer bottle.

  “I’m not going to offer my congratulations if that’s what you’re after because I know he’ll be miserable for the rest of his life. I can’t do anything about that.”

  He chooses this moment to look up at me. I can’t tell if he’s begging me for something, but it’s too late. My heart’s broken, and even knowing it’s all my fault doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I will offer some advice though.”

  I keep my eyes on hers, refusing to look at him just as he’s done to me for days and days.

  A million insults are on the tip of my tongue. The desire to tell him to get tested, even if she claims she’s being monogamous. Give him my condolences for the overused pussy he’ll be fucking for the foreseeable future. But I realize before the words spill out in hateful revenge that they won’t help. If he chose this, that’s on him. This club has put up with me being an asshole for over a year and a half in an attempt to protect our secret. I push it all down, the pain, the heartache, the love I have for him that has done nothing but bloom and thrive in the darkness. I’ll let it die. It’ll be as if my secrets and transgressions never happened.

  “Never mind,” I mutter before turning and leaving them all to follow the tension in my back as I leave the room.

  Chapter 33

  Itchy

  I raise my beer in salute to Shadow and Misty’s news. Baby number two is on the way, and although I’m so fucking happy to see one of my closest friends ecstatic over the prospect of being a father for the second time and being able to be with Misty the entire way through this time around, I can’t seem to muster the emotions to give them justice.

  We’re in the back yard, around the fire pit, the place we always gather when we party and the weather’s nice. This is a double celebration since Dominic finally got his shit together and confessed his feelings to Makayla. They got married last week. I’m surrounded by distracted, happy couples, miserable to my fucking center.

  “Another beer?” Snapper coos in my ear.

  I nod, thankful for even a minute’s reprieve from her overpowering perfume and wandering hands. She knows exactly where we stand. We don’t fuck or cuddle at night even though she insists on sleeping in my room every night. Hell, I’m not even civil to her when we’re alone, but to protect Snatch’s delicate fucking secret, I tolerate her in public.

  I’ve hoped for the last couple of weeks she’d get tired of my indifference, but she clings to the hope that I’ll eventually fall in love with her. I seriously think she needs to be evaluated by a licensed mental health professional because she’s clearly lost her fucking mind.

  Snatch has given me an even wider berth than we had before Snapper announced we were getting married. I had no warning, no time to prepare when the guys got back from the situation with the Renegades. She came out of her room, diamond ring glistening on her left hand, looped her arm through mine telling me to smile and remember the video. Then she proceeded to drag me out into the living room and announce our happy news.

  I was surprised by several things that night. First, I didn’t know the direct sales businesses she’s been involved in could generate enough revenue to buy that fucking ring, and also that she announced our engagement before Snatch showed up.

  I glance straight across the fire, finding Khloe watching me with sad eyes. Snatch is across the yard to the far right, so I know where not to look until Snapper has determined we’ve been here long enough. She’ll start to paw at me, acting like we’re getting hot and bothered and we’ll make our excuses letting everyone think we can’t get out of here fast enough to fuck in private. Fuck, I wish I could talk to Khloe, but she’s distanced
herself since the announcement.

  Snake is pissed and avoiding me like the petulant child that he is, claiming and I quote: ‘You took my hottest piece of pussy.’

  I don’t know who Snapper’s been fucking the last couple of weeks, but to keep the ruse up, I’m sure it’s not anyone in the clubhouse. I cringe every morning I wake up, and even an inch of skin is against mine.

  “Hey, man.” My eyes close, squeezing shut at the possibility that I’m dreaming. He hasn’t directed any amount of attention my way, not one single sentence of conversation in over three weeks, not since I fucked up and gave him that stupid as hell ultimatum.

  I don’t feel him move, and my body hums with his proximity. When I open my eyes, I find him still beside me but focused on the bright orange and yellow flames from the massive fire pit.

  I ache to touch him, to tell him the truth, beg him to tell everyone what we mean to each other. All he has to do is confess, and my life would be a million times better in the blink of an eye.

  An insidious thought creeps in my head that the way we are now is what he’s always wanted, that he may have enjoyed what we were doing together but he was never in it for the long run. If only I could forget the way we moved together, how his mouth felt on mine, how his body felt inside of mine.

  “Fuck,” I grumble and run my hand in frustration down my beard.

  “Yeah,” he mutters.

  I open my mouth to force him to explain his response, but Snapper comes sauntering up, clearing her throat in agitation at Snatch sitting in the seat she’d vacated a few moments before.

  She shrugs when he ignores her, and in a ridiculous show of possession, she climbs in my fucking lap, rolling her body against mine like a cat starved for attention. My hands grip my beer bottle, and the chair’s arm rests respectively as I fight every instinct to push her off and not care that she’s left in the dirt at my feet.

  “Hey baby,” she purrs.

  I see Snatch’s eye twitch at the corner, and she knows I’m paying more attention to him than her and she hates it. With her index finger, she chucks my chin up forcing me to look her in the eye. I hiss at the scrape of her overly long fingernail against my skin. Her wicked smile and the way she’s making a show of grinding down on my flaccid cock may look like we can’t get enough of each other to an outsider, but my blood is boiling in my veins.