by Amelia Shea
“It was mine!” She snapped like a child who didn’t get picked for the lead in the school play. “I earned it. Hours and hours of overtime just to get passed up for some dickless moron. It’s bullshit.” She balled her fists in hopes of diluting her anger, but nothing would help.
“Macy, you’ll get…”
“Get what, Chey?”
She held up her fingers in Cheyenne’s face. “Two years I’ve been busting my ass. The raise alone, that’s all I wanted. I’d only have to do eighteen months in that hell hole before we had the cash to open the shop.” She had done all the calculations, and that’s all it would have taken for the start-up cash with the promotion. Then, they’d be set to open their storefront. Now, it would be at least another four years.
Cheyenne sighed and cautiously approached Macy. “We’ll figure something else out.”
Macy was too blinded by her own fury to fully appreciate Cheyenne’s support. She needed time to settle. She was a bomb about to explode.
“No, we won’t,” she shouted, which was exactly what she needed to wake the fuck up. Cheyenne flinched back, and Macy squeezed her eyes shut.
“Fuck!” Macy drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes to find her best friend staring at her. Not an ounce of anger on her face. Cheyenne would take whatever Macy needed to dish out, even if it meant getting yelled at and being Macy’s own personal punching bag.
Her shoulders sagged, and she grabbed her ears. “I’m sorry.” The only thing stronger than her anger was the guilt she was feeling for taking her frustration out on her best friend.
“Mace, look at me.”
Macy hesitated then glanced up. “I’m sorry.”
Cheyenne shook her head with a smile. “Nope, shut up. No apologizing. It sucks, it really does, ’cause I know how hard you worked for it. For us.” Cheyenne grabbed her hand and laced their fingers. “You get to be a bitch. In fact, I’m declaring it National Macy Bitch day.”
Macy laughed while Cheyenne pulled her in for a hug.
“I just need nothing else to go wrong today,” Macy whispered in absolute honesty.
Cheyenne hooked her arm through Macy’s and pulled her toward the front door of the clubhouse. “It won’t, I promise. We’ll go inside, get a drink, hang out with hot bikers. Who knows, maybe we can get the guys to beat the shit outta Kyle, too.”
Oh, that would be beautiful.
Macy burst out laughing as they walked through the door. This is what she needed. Finally, she was feeling better. They headed down the hall to the bar. If anything would take her mind off her fucked-up day, it would be Rourke. Her heart skipped, and her belly tingled, remembering their date and his own eagerness to see her. She’d heard his words and felt them to the core. She may not have the money and promotion, but at least she had him. Rourke. It was a flashback to her first crush who gave her butterflies. She sighed, feeling a little lighter.
But…all good things must come to an end.
Her eyes found him immediately followed by her sinking heart.
Cheyenne groaned, which only confirmed she was seeing the same fucked up scene.
Macy was frozen at the hall entrance and fire raced through her veins. “Perfect ending to a perfect fucking day.”
There were a few people scattered around the room, but her sole focus was on the bar where Trax, Dobbs, Gage, and Rourke were seated. She caught Nadia behind the bar joking with them. The scene would have been nothing out of the ordinary, if not for the half-dressed woman sitting so close to Rourke, their legs were pressed together.
“Son of a bitch!” She seethed and stalked forward, but Cheyenne gripped her wrist. Macy whipped around glaring at her best friend.
“Calm down; he’s not doing anything wrong.”
Macy gasped and widened her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? She’s practically sitting on his fucking lap.”
Cheyenne tightened her grip when Macy tried to pull away. “They’re sitting together. Nothing else. You are about to explode on him for sitting next to a girl at a bar. I just want you to calm down a second before you storm over there and do something you’ll regret ’cause you’ve got misplaced anger from not getting the promotion.”
Macy gritted her teeth with all her fury and rage reaching the surface.
“Take a deep breath.” She glanced over her shoulder. “He’s sitting there with…” She stopped abruptly, and her mouth fell open. Macy immediately whipped around.
Her anger boiled over as she watched, the skanky blonde leaning over with her breasts sliding across his forearm whispering in his ear.
“Motherfucker.” She pulled away from Cheyenne and made a stomping beeline for her target. She had no prepared speech, but one thing she was making clear was this was unacceptable. She pushed through Gage who was swiveling in his chair as she approached, he smiled but lost his smile when she weaved her way between him and Rourke, practically knocking him over. Rourke shifted his gaze.
She pointed her finger inches from his face and shouted, “You’re an asshole!”
The room got quiet, except for the music pounding in the background. Rourke widened his eyes in surprise, and a mass of confusion filtered over his features.
“What the fuck?”
“You tell me, asshole.” She glared at the girl sitting next to him who had the nerve to smirk, which only fueled her fury. She jerked her gaze to Rourke. He stared down at her finger, and his eyes shifted into a deep harsh scowl.
“Get your finger outta my face,” he snarled in a low tone.
Her lips twisted. “You don’t like that finger. How ’bout this one, asshole?” She raised her middle finger, shoving it inches from his face. “Fuck you.” She turned to face the room and stomped through the crowd. The shocked glances around the room had her making double time to the door. God, he’s such an asshole. Tears were threatening her eyes, but she refused to give in to her emotions. Fuck him. She had just breached the outside when a hand gripped her arm and yanked her back inside.
He pinned her against the wall with a fire blazing in his eyes. She’d seen him mad several times, but there was pure rage laced through his eyes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
She tried to wiggle from his hold, but it was impossible.
“Me?” She struggled against his hold. “What am I doing? I thought I was surprising you, but well, fuck me, it looks like I was the one who got the surprise. God, I’m so stupid, I should have seen this coming.” Her anger was so raw, her hands started to shake. “You and Miss Fucking Fake Tits, huh? Well, now I know why you didn’t call me to say you got back early.” She scoffed. “Tell me something, how long were you gonna wait to see me? Until after you fucked her?”
She leaned into him, pushing him back. Even with all her strength, she only managed to get him an inch away because he let her. “Let me go.”
He released her but stayed in her space, not moving an inch. “I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about. I’m sitting at the goddamn bar having a fucking beer, and you think I’m fucking around, on you?”
“Because you are.” She shouted in his face which seemed to amp up Rourke’s fury.
She moved past him, but he pulled her back, tightening his lips. “I haven’t fucked Rachel or any other woman in this club since I’ve been with you.”
“Yeah, all right, whatever, if you think for one second I buy that, then you have to be not only the biggest asshole but the dumbest.” She pushed at his chest. “So fucking typical, being fucked over by men. If it’s not at work, it’s here with you. Do you know how hard I’ve worked just to get screwed over?”
Rourke cocked his brow. “What the hell are you talking about? Work?”
Macy blinked through her rage-infested glare. All her anger was filtering into one explosion. All she could see what not getting her promotion and seeing Rourke with another woman. Her anger was mixing into one blazing ball of fire.
“I’m not gonna stand here and explain myself
to you or anyone else.” She pulled away and moved forward, but his arm snaked around her waist, setting her against the wall.
“Hold the fuck up. Is this about your promotion?”
Was it? She didn’t even know at this point. Her rage was blinded. No, it’s about him.
She pushed his chest with all her strength. “No, asshole. It’s about you being a complete man-whore.”
His head cocked, and his eyes darkened.
“I’m a man-whore because I’m sitting next to her? Or ’cause you’re fucking jealous you see another woman showing me something you don’t like? You got fucking insecurity issues, that’s on you babe, not me.”
Oh, you motherfucker! He did not just say that to her. Did he?
She widened her eyes and gasped. “I’m not insecure, asshole, just don’t take kindly to be treated like some whore of yours.”
He stepped forward, crowding her against the wall. “Never once did I call you a whore or even fucking treat you like one.” His head angled closer, and he growled. “Now. Ya wanna tell me the real reason you’re coming at me?”
Macy clamped her lips closed and shifted her gaze to the opposite wall.
“Did ya get the promotion?” He was taunting her.
She whipped her head. “Fuck off, Rourke.”
His brows knitted together as his gaze darkened. “So, you come in here, all pissed off, screaming some bullshit, all ’cause you didn’t get what you wanted. And you’re putting your shit on me, in my clubhouse, in front of my brothers.” He clenched his jaw and his temple pulsed.
She recognized his rage, but she was too blinded by her own to care.
“You wouldn’t get it.” It was a lame comeback, but it was all she had at the moment.
He stepped back and folded his arm. “What don’t I get? You’re a grown woman throwing a tantrum ’cause shit didn’t go your way. You’re right, I don’t fucking get it.”
“Shit didn’t go my way? Is that what you think?” She scoffed and twisted her lips. “Fuck you. I’ve busted my ass at my fucking job, and yeah, so what, I’ve got every right to be pissed. I earned that promotion and got passed over because I don’t have a dick. You have no idea how hard I worked for that.” She narrowed her eyes. “I live in the real world, Rourke. Illegal activities don’t fund my life. I don’t get to hang at a clubhouse, doing God knows what or who all day. I actually work.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. The words slipped before she could take them back. The second they passed her lips, she regretted it. It was intentionally cruel. She was hurting, and she wanted him to feel it. From the hard lines outlining his jaw and the small lines creased in his forehead, there was no doubt it struck him.
She needed to get outta here. She tried to move again, but he pinned her to the wall with his forearm bearing down on her chest.
“You done?” He narrowed his gaze, and she stepped back slowly until her back hit the wall. He didn’t wait for her to answer.
“Yeah, Macy, I fucking work. Been working since I was fifteen. Took any job I could get ’cause while your mom was taking care of you?” He furrowed his brows. “I was taking care of my sisters ’cause if I didn’t, they’d be out on the streets. And a lot of those jobs? They paid shit but I busted my ass, and I did it without throwing a fucking tantrum.” He leaned closer. “And now I own my own garage, got four guys who work for me. Completely legit, got a fucking 1099 to prove it. You’d know all this shit it if you ever fucking asked, but you didn’t.” He paused, and she shifted uneasy on her feet. “Why would you give a shit anyway?” He stepped back and spread his arms wide. “I’m just a biker, someone ya fuck for a night or two, right, Mace?”
Her own words just bitch slapped her across the face. There was no denying it. She said it.
He leveled her with his eyes. “Thought I saw something with you. I was wrong.” He shook his head and stepped back, narrowing his gaze and making her squirm uneasily in the process. “So fucking wrong.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. Ouch! Her mind was going in a hundred different directions, but the stab through her heart from his words was penetrating hard. She peeked up.
He turned and stalked back into the room, and like an idiot, she watched him go. It seemed the whole scene had gained the attention of the entire club. They all stared back at her with absolute disgust and hate. Except for Cheyenne who appeared beyond shocked.
Her face heated and she stormed off, racing to her car. There wasn’t supposed to be an attachment, and she cursed herself. She wiped the tears with the back of her hand.
Fuck him.
****
Fuck her.
He tossed the wrench across the garage, coming short of wailing it into Drew. His new mechanic was good, and the last thing Rourke needed was to lose him. Drew jumped to the side, dodging the tool and gaped at Rourke.
“I didn’t fucking hit you,” Rourke barked.
Drew laughed. “Yeah, and as much as I appreciate that, a heads-up next time would also be appreciated.” He walked past the wrench on the floor and rushed out of the bay doors.
He needed to get a grip on his anger. He planted his hands on his workbench and bowed his head.
“Settle down, brother.”
Rourke angled his head to where Trax stood leaning against the wall in the garage.
“That shit was all on her. Fucking lunatic bitch got off easy.” Trax shook his head. “Only thing that sucks about my girl is her choice in friends. Ya think Chey would go for it if I banned Macy from my house?”
Rourke fought back a smile. No fucking way Chey would go for that shit. If Trax even mentioned it, he’d be jerking himself for days, possibly months. Trax smirked. Rourke knew what he was trying to do.
Gage lifted his cigarette to his lips. “You should tell Chey the house is a cunt free zone.”
The words weren’t completely out of his mouth when Rourke slowly turned his attention to Gage. The tension rose in his neck, making a cracking whistle, and he aimed his death glare on his brother.
Rourke drew in a breath. “I’m gonna let the bitch comment slide.” He clenched his jaw and deepened his scowl. “You ever call her a cunt to me or anyone else, I will cut out your fucking tongue.” Rourke paused. “And I’ll use a dull fucking blade. We clear?”
There was no way in hell Rourke would stand by and let Macy get disrespected by anyone, including his brothers.
Gage raised his hands in front of his chest. “Yeah, man.” He chuckled. “Doesn’t get any clearer than that. I’ll think I’ll head out now.”
Rourke watched him exit through the bay doors. Considering what happened the other night, he should be appreciating the Macy bash fest, but he wasn’t feeling it. For all the bullshit she said that night he should have been able to replace her in his mind. He couldn’t which only pissed him off more.
“Not done with her, are ya?”
He should be done with her crazy, psychotic ass. Fuck! He wasn’t, not even close. He played the scene at the clubhouse over in his head. He knew what it must have looked like when she walked in but had she put an ounce of fucking trust in him; there wouldn’t have been an issue. Or maybe there would have been. She could have at least talked to him instead of screaming insults in front of his brothers. Macy was off the rails when she came at him, and there was no talking to her. She wouldn’t fucking listen.
Rourke turned, resting his hip against the table and folded his arms. He couldn’t ever remember having a heart to heart regarding a woman. He wasn’t about to start now. He stared back at Trax who smirked.
“All right, thought maybe you wanted to talk about it.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, I get it.” Trax shoved his hands in his pockets and tightened his lips.
They’d known each other a long time. Long enough to know when Trax was biting his tongue.
“What?”
“She fucked up, no denying it. And I’m the last person to have her back, and if you’re done with her, I’ll c
elebrate with ya, drinks on me.” Trax laughed but quickly glanced down at the car.
“But?”
Trax glanced up and shrugged. “I’ve been where she’s at. Six months ago, I said some fucked up shit to Chey, things I regret now, but at the time, I had so much damn anger trying to find out who took out Mick, I just snapped.” He jerked his chin. “Kinda like Macy did the other night. Not saying how she handled it was right but Chey’s known her a long time. Said she’d never seen her so angry, and that was before they walked in and saw Rachel sitting with you.”
Rourke growled. “Yeah, sitting.” He hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t stepping out on Macy. Hell, nobody could compare to her.
Trax held up his hands. “Brother, I get it, I was there, I know nothing happened.” Trax rested against the wall. “But tell me this. You walk in and see Macy sitting at a bar with a guy sitting close and whispering in her ear, can you tell me you wouldn’t lose your shit?”
Oh fuck, not only would he lose his shit, but the guy would be fucked for life. Rourke sighed, knowing exactly what angle Trax was working. It was a strange turn of events hearing Trax defend Macy and offer an excuse for her behavior. The two of them had been cordial with one another for Cheyenne’s sake, but there was no love lost.
“Anything else ya wanna share?”
Trax shrugged. “Chey said Macy spent most of the last two days crying.” Trax sighed. “And she’s pretty sure it has nothing to do with work or her promotion.” Trax moved around the car, not making any eye contact. “Just sayin’, we all fuck up.” He shrugged while glancing down at the engine of Rourke’s repair. “She’s only human, man.”
She was, and so was he. If he wanted Macy, he had to take all of her, including her flaws. He needed more time to think. The thought of approaching her while the scene from the club was still fresh in his head wouldn’t end well. He didn’t want a repeat performance of the other day.
They worked in silence for a few more hours until the Trax headed out. Usually, Rourke wrapped shit up by five, but at eight-thirty he was still shuffling paperwork. He would have almost missed her arrival had she not been so fucking loud. Like a bull in a china shop, ever since she was a kid.
