Chapter Ten – Warren
I woke to the sound of water running and smiled. Finally Red was acting like she was supposed to be here. Earlier she was acting like all she had to do was leave, but I dicked that out of her. Now, she was showering and I vacillated between joining her and waiting to dirty her up again when she got out.
I was feeling lazy and continued thinking instead of joining her in the water. I needed to process everything before she got back. There was something going on with Red. She was paranoid and fidgety. If she wasn’t looking over her shoulder like someone was watching her, she was staring at her phone like it was a bomb waiting to go off. Despite refusing to be real with me, I just assumed she had a few things to work through, but what were those things? It was suspicious the way she wouldn’t tell me anything about herself. Most women would die to blab about their lives. What I found out about her weren’t things she freely offered. I knew she was funny and smart, but where she worked, what brought her to Willow Springs, or where she met Daniella had yet to be said.
Everything was going good between us, but something was between us. If only I knew what the hell it was. I stared at her purse on the table wondering if there was an answer in her phone. I didn’t hesitate to climb out the bed and open her purse. On principle, I didn’t approve of going through a woman’s purse. It was like asking to see something you shouldn’t see, but thankfully her phone was on the top. I grabbed it and shook my head when I saw it was locked. Of course it was.
The next place I looked was her driver’s license…and I hit the fucking jack pocket.
I skimmed the information quickly, past the number, expiration date, date of birth, and issue date, because her name caught my eye. Tamara Byrd.
Who the fuck is that?
Is this ID fake? If so, why?
I looked at the picture beside the name. It was Red, but not Red. This woman was not my Red. First of all, her hair wasn’t red. It was a dirty-blonde, like it couldn’t decide what color it wanted to be. Her eyes looked sunken in, like she hadn’t slept for weeks before she went to the DMV, and what was worse, her eyes looked broken. My Red had ferocity in her eyes. Sure, she looked worried sometimes and I could tell she was stressed, but she did not look sad. She looked like she wouldn’t take any shit even if she had to fight.
Who the fuck was this woman?
I tucked the ID safely back into the plastic and strode over to my discarded pants where my phone was still in the pocket.
“Wiz,” I said as soon as the man said hello.
“Hey VP.”
“I got a job.”
“Okay,” he said, making noise like he was grabbing paper and pen. “Talk to me.”
“I need a background check. AZ ID number 9164531,” I said.
“When you need it?” he asked understanding the seriousness of my tone.
“I needed it yesterday; if you get it to me sooner than later, you’ll get a bonus.”
“Give me an hour,” he said and hung up.
Wiz was an IT guru and a newer prospect. He knew everything from hacking a system to making things on the web disappear. He also had a few cop and mercenary connections. Of all the brothers, I trusted him the most to get this job done.
I laid back in bed unsure how I should feel. There were a lot of things running through my head, but when Red opened the bathroom door with nothing but steam flooding out around her naked body and her towel wrapped head they all disappeared.
Fuck how I was feeling. Red was asking to be owned, and if my phone rang while I was cock deep in her, I would cross that bridge when we got there.
A few hours later, my phone buzzed. The text was clear.
Mission accomplished.
I sat up, sliding from under Red’s body.
“Going somewhere?” She blinked slowly, almost asleep.
“Yeah. I got a crisis at the club house. Go back to sleep.”
“Will you be back soon?” When she was sleepy, she was more vulnerable, and so cute.
I kissed her forehead. “I promise. I’ll be back soon.”
I drove straight to the clubhouse. My anxiety cut the drive in half and I stood in the back, waiting for the news.
Wiz stood in front of me, shuffling his feet like a boy scared to be scolded.
“What is it? Just spit it out.”
I could tell he was trying to keep the apologetic tone out of his voice. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that no matter how old the men were, many of The Bandits were just boys. Sure, they were built like steel and could fight and drink men twice their age under the table, but they were still just boys. Like rebellious children who’d run away from home for whatever injustice and joined an MC along the way. That’s why Gus had to protect them. That’s why I was the VP and not the President. Gus made decisions. I made those decisions sound.
I took several deep breaths and tried to calm myself down, but it wasn’t easy. When it came to Alyssa, well Tamara…Red, I couldn’t be neutral. Everything felt dire, which was strange since I normally didn’t get so involved. The emotional crap clouded my judgment. It kept me from being in control, which was what I did. I was a master of control. In my line of work, that kind of distraction could get me and my Pres killed. It was up to me to protect him.
“Here,” he said, handing me the folder. I don’t know where he got it or who he had to call, but the folder was thick with information.
On one side was a picture of Red’s driver’s license. It was the exact one I saw, which meant it was real. On the right was a series of pictures and files and details I had to read through. The pictures were gruesome. Pictures of her face, swollen, bleeding, and her body bent and bruised. Suddenly the scars I saw on her body made sense. There were several reports of her calling the police, domestic violence visits, and a restraining order. Her husband was arrested and released. If he had been sentenced, he would still be in jail for beating her, but he got out quickly on bail. It even listed some known police officers that were his friends, the connections that got him a pardon.
It all added up in my head.
She was on the run.
And she fucking lied.
“I guess you got everything you needed.”
I wished she hadn’t lied. Why did she lie? If she had come to me, I could have protected her. I could have done something but…she lied. And if she lied once, how could I know I could trust her?
My fists clenched as I slid the folder back to Wiz and dismissed him with a nod.
I tried to breathe, but all I could see were the bruises on her body. That bastard hurt her. Bryant fucking Byrd. That asshole. How could a man ever lay a hand on their woman? Especially a woman that’s his wife! It was messed up and he was a fucking coward. Plus, I hadn’t missed the fact that they were married. She was still tied to the fucker. My fists clenched as I thought about it. I didn’t want her to belong to him. She was mine.
Red made me feel so greedy, like I could never get enough of her, and that scared me. The thought of any man touching her, owning her, drove me insane. I had no right to feel like this about her. This possessive shit wasn’t like me at all. I liked being a free agent, fucking whomever and whenever. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am worked just fine for me, but something in me wanted to own Red, keep her as mine. I’d never felt that way about a woman, and it rocked me to my core. What was she doing to me?
I drove myself home and climbed into the bed. I looked at Red’s small frame and felt new waves of empathy towards her. It all made sense, and I realized the woman had been through a lot. No wonder she was being so paranoid: she was running for her life.
I climbed under the covers and smiled as she sensed my presence and scooted over until her arms wrapped around my chest. She sighed in contentment and my heart thumped loudly as laid there waiting for sleep.
The next morning, we sat together at the table eating scrambled eggs and toast. I watched Red with questions running through my head. I wondered why she was with me and how long she was planning to stay. I couldn’t help thinking about her lie and how many lies she had told me. She noticed my mood and was being cheeky because I was questioning everything she said.
“You want orange juice?”
“Sure.”
“You like OJ, or you prefer something else?”
She shrugged, “I like whatever.”
Everyone has a preference.
I watched her flit around the kitchen in my t-shirt. It hung just above her knees. I could see her nipples through the shirt and knew I would never wear that shirt the same again. She was humming something and shaking her little butt.
“Do you have on panties right now?”
She giggled. “Nope.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she said, setting my plate down before turning back to the counter to get her own.
I grunted. “I doubt that, Tamara.”
The loud explosion of her plate breaking on the floor halted my fork from reaching my mouth, and I realized what I said.
Shit.
She took off running at the same time I jumped up and grabbed her arm.
“Wait. Ally. Wait.”
“No!” She looked back her eyes wide with pure panic. “Let me go! Please don’t take me to him.”
I pulled her into my arms tightly, bear hugging her so she couldn’t wield her body as a weapon, and waited. She needed to work it out.
She kept throwing her body, trying to get out of my arms and still not ready to listen. When she realized that her fighting was hopeless, she burst into tears and sobbed into my chest. “Please, Warren. Please don’t work for him.” Her sobs were frantic, like the stress of all that she’d been through had weighed her down and at this moment, she couldn’t hold it any longer.
I rubbed her back with one hand, still not letting her go, and waited until she was semi-quiet and hiccupping. “Red, listen to me. I promise, I would never hurt you.”
She stepped back and I let her move, on guard in case she tried to run again. Her eyes were the most like her DMV picture: broken, sad, and unsure.
“I don’t know that asshole. I have never met him and I would never turn you into your ex. I will never let anyone hurt you. Not when I’m around. Please hear me, baby,” I said, reaching to hold her chin. “I am not out to get you. You’re safe here. With me.”
She nodded slowly, as if taking a moment to accept her new reality.
“If you’re running, I can help you. The club can get you a new identity and I know a guy that can help you start over. Everything from a new social security number to bank accounts.”