CHAPTER FOURTEEN

After tossing back the last of my drink, I set the glass down on the bar and turned to glare at Cage. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here,” I muttered.

Cage smirked before he took a swig of his beer. “Who the fuck was talkin’?” he asked. “All I remember was a lot of fuckin’.”

Glaring down at my empty glass, I silently willed the gin to refill itself. Nothing was going as planned. Nothing.

Stopping by my mother’s house had done nothing except further propel me into Cage’s naked lap. Watching him interact with her, the way he was so careful with her, gentle and sweet, that by the time we’d left we’d barely made to his bike before I was sexually assaulting him.

So what if a guy is nice to your very fragile mother? That shouldn’t mean you’re suddenly craving his dick in your mouth. Or agreeing to spend the rest of the day at his ridiculous motorcycle club with him, still craving his dick in your mouth.

“Do you think she saw us?” I whispered.

“Your mom? See you tryin’ to strip me naked in the driveway?” Cage snorted. “Yeah, babe, I think the whole neighborhood saw us.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” I demanded.

Shooting me an amused glance, Cage started laughing. “Stop you? Babe, your pussy’s like fuckin’ crack. Been up inside that shit all damn day and I’m still jonesin’ for more.”

Ahhhhh, dammit. That smile, that voice, those crude words that somehow sounded as sexy as fuck.

“Tegen,” he said softly. “Stop lookin’ at me like that, babe, or I’m gonna pick you the fuck up and take you straight to my room. I know you don’t want to go there, but you keep starin’ at me all hungry and shit, I’m not gonna care what the fuck you want. I’m just gonna take it.”

Realizing I’d been staring at Cage, I swallowed hard and glanced away. Seconds later I felt his hand land on my thigh and slide slowly in between my legs, cupping me. “Think I might just take it anyway,” he said, his voice a low growl.

Breathing hard, trying to focus on the conversation instead of his touch, I turned to face him. “Thank you for being so nice to her.”

Cage blinked. “Huh?” he said, taking his hand back. “Your mom? Why wouldn’t I?”

I shrugged. “Everyone else has been pressuring her to come to the club, but you didn’t even mention it. That was really nice of you.”

“You’re forgettin’ somethin’, babe,” he said gently. “I love D. We all love D. Anybody who’s pressurin’ her isn’t tryin’ to hurt her, they’re just missin’ her. I hadn’t seen her in some time and I wasn’t about to be forcin’ the club on her or anything.”

I stared at him, my eyes roaming every inch of his perfect face, feeling so incredibly inadequate to be seated next to him.

Why was he being so sweet?

“Since when are you so nice?” I whispered.

Cage’s nostrils flared slightly. “Only once, since the day I met you, Teacup, that I haven’t treated you right. Am I right?”

My cheeks flushing, I glanced immediately away from him and just as quickly Cage grabbed hold of my thigh and dug his fingertips into my flesh until I whimpered in pain.

“Look at me,” he growled.

I already was. And I was glaring.

“Am. I. Right?” he demanded quietly, staring directly into my eyes. The longer I stared at him, my anger began to abate. He was…right.

Suddenly I felt so stupid, so small, as if all my anger toward him had been a giant waste of time. That if I’d only listened every time he’d tried to talk me down, if I would have actually looked his way, I would have seen the apology in his eyes years ago. A wave of nausea coursed through me. What was happening here?

Would this, whatever this was, between Cage and me have happened years ago if I hadn’t been so unwilling to even speak to him?

Biting my bottom lip, feeling conflicted, I nodded quickly and he immediately let go. Looking satisfied, he leaned back on his barstool and folded his arms across his chest.

“Do you ever wonder if she’s been rememberin’ shit and not tellin’ anyone?”

The abrupt change in subject gave me pause. “What?” I asked, shaking my head.

He shrugged. “Just somethin’ she said durin’ lunch. That Christopher’s been askin’ to ride on Hawk’s bike, but then she said no way is she lettin’ him on, that she didn’t let you get on a bike until you were twelve.”

I stared at him, my thoughts shooting out in a million different directions. Was she remembering? Or had I told her about that during one of many attempts at trying to help her remember? I wracked my brain trying to remember phone conversations and my visits home and…

Shit! I didn’t know! I couldn’t remember.

“Why would she do that?” I asked. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“She’d been waitin’ on Jase for years, Teacup,” Cage said, “only to end up gettin’ shot in the fuckin’ head by his old lady. Maybe she figures not lettin’ on she remembers him is her way out.”

“Holy fuck,” I said. “Holy motherfuck!”

Cage gave me a quizzical look. “What?”

“She was crying this morning.”

She’d been standing in the window watching me fight with Jase, watching me haul his drunk stupid ass in the car, and she’d been crying. The immediate danger of Jase breaking in had been taken away. She wasn’t crying about the threat of him…she was crying about him.

That wasn’t something a woman who didn’t remember a man did. Why would you cry over someone you didn’t remember? That was something a woman did who’d had her heart repeatedly broken by a man.

I wanted to be mad at her, for not telling me, but at the same time, I wasn’t in any position to judge her. I’d run away from my problems. She was hiding from hers. We were both guilty of the same things.

“You want me to take you home?” Cage asked, his expression full of concern. “Sounds like you and her need to talk.”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know what I would say.”

Looking thoughtful, Cage nodded, then suddenly he was grinning.

“You remember who gave you that first ride, Teacup?”

“Yes,” I said dryly, fighting back a smile. “You gave me all my first rides.”

Cage gave me a look that suggested he was about to haul me off my stool and give me another ride when Deuce’s office doors suddenly slammed open and everyone in the main room turned to watch him storm out. He took in the occupants of the room and stopped his angry gaze on Mick.

“Call in all the boys,” he said. “Tell ’em to bring in their families. We’re going on lockdown, startin’ now.”

Seeking out Eva, Deuce pointed at her. “Babe, go pick up D and bring her ass here.”

Wait. What? Lockdown? D?

Shit.

Oh hell, no.

I jumped off my barstool, slapping Cage’s hand away when he tried to grab me.

“Tegen!” he hissed. “You know lockdown means you too!”

“I’m leaving!” I shouted in Deuce’s direction, ignoring Cage as I quickly hurried toward the door.

“Tegen!”

I kept walking.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Deuce called out. “This is club business.”

Bucket was suddenly standing in front of the front door, shaking his head at me, blocking me from leaving. I stopped walking and glared at him.

“Move,” I ground out.

Bucket grinned. “Ain’t no way in hell,” he said.

“Move!” I shouted.

“TEGEN!” Deuce bellowed.

Bucket spun his index finger in a circular motion, signaling that it was time for me to turn around, something that only pissed me off even more.

Flipping Bucket off, I spun around. “I am not part of your damn club!” I yelled. “And either is my mother!”

As Deuce stalked toward me, his booted steps heavy and deliberate, his nostrils flaring, I did everything in my power not to shrink under his angry glare. Deuce angry was not a pretty sight; it was in fact absolutely terrifying.

“Listen to me,” Deuce growled quietly, having reached me. “I ain’t got time for your mouth right now. We got a problem with the local law that I ain’t got a hold of yet. So if you think I’m gonna let you walk out that fuckin’ door only for somethin’ to happen to you because shit’s goin’ down right now, you’re stupid as fuck.”

Deuce pointed to the bar. “March your mouthy little ass back on over there, sit the fuck down next to King Stupid, and keep on doin’ whatever the fuck it was you were doin’. And get damn comfy doin’ it, ’cause you’re gonna be here ’til Wednesday.”

My jaw dropped. “Wednesday!” I shouted, forgetting in my anger that Deuce’s temper was not something anyone wanted to mess around with. “I have to be back at work on Tuesday!”

“Tough fuckin’ shit,” he said, already turning away from me. Ignoring me. Treating me like I was one of his motherfucking leather-clad minions.

“You fucking asshole!” I screamed, forgetting myself entirely. “You are not my prez! You are not my father! You are not my fucking boss! You cannot tell me what the fuck to do anymore!”

Slowly, menacingly, Deuce turned back around to face me. “I ain’t your father?” He sneered. “Who’s been keepin’ clothes on your back and food in your belly all these years? Who’s been payin’ for that expensive-as-shit apartment in Cali? Who’s been sending cash your way, keepin’ you and ZZ ahead of the motherfuckin’ game?”

“I’ve told you I don’t need your money!” I screamed, uncaring that my voice was bordering on shrill. I was trembling from head to toe and tears were forming. “I tell you every goddamn week when you call and so does ZZ! Whatever jobs you’ve been sending him on, he seems to be doing just fucking fine! But you have to stick your fat head in where it doesn’t belong because God forbid you don’t control every single little thing around you! Well, I don’t need you, Deuce! I don’t need this club! I never fucking did!”

Nostrils flaring, his face red with rage, Deuce stared me down. “Cage!” he bellowed, his eyes still on me. “Get your latest piece of ASS the fuck outta my face before I start blowin’ fuckin’ holes in skulls!”

“You sexist, self-righteous FUCK!” I screamed, and lunged forward, lunging for Deuce. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I got to him, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I wanted to get to him, punch him, strangle him, kick him in the balls, something, anything. I just wanted to hurt him.

But I never reached him. I was tackled from the side, lifted straight up off the floor, and carried quickly from the room.

“I hate you!” I screamed in Deuce’s direction. “I fucking hate you!”

• • •

Cage threw open his bedroom door, stalked inside, kicked it shut behind him, and tossed Tegen’s thrashing body onto his bed. She immediately scrambled into a sitting position and made to jump off the bed but he was on her in a flash, yanking her legs out from under her, straddling her hips, and holding her arms out at her sides.

His heart thudding erratically inside his chest, Cage glared down at her. He couldn’t care less that she’d gotten in yet another verbal brawl with his father. He couldn’t care less that she’d been only inches from slugging Deuce in the face and subsequently getting her ass kicked for it. He couldn’t give two motherfucking shits that Tegen was never going to change; she was always going to act before thinking, mouthing off to anyone, anywhere, not realizing the consequences. He didn’t even care that she hated the club.

All he cared about, all he could think about, the one thing that stuck out over everything his old man and she had shouted at each other was…

ZZ.

No one, not one fucking brother, not even Mick knew where ZZ was. Deuce had told everyone awhile back that ZZ wasn’t their concern anymore and to stop asking questions because he wasn’t going to answer them.

Who’s been sending cash your way, keepin’ you and ZZ ahead of the motherfuckin’ game?

What did that fucking mean? That ZZ was in Cali? Or that ZZ was in Cali with Tegen?

“Get off me, you stupid fuck!” Tegen screamed, trying desperately to pull her arms out from under his grip.

Stupid. Fuck.

He lost it. He just fucking lost it. His head was already a mess, feeling all sorts of crazy shit he wasn’t familiar with, and Tegen’s last stab at him sent him over the damn edge.

“ZZ!” he roared. “Motherfuckin’ ZZ!”

Tegen blinked up at him.

“What?” she whispered.

“You heard me,” he gritted out. “Now, fuckin’ spill. You and ZZ in Cali together? Livin’ together?”

She hesitated; just a tiny shift of her eyes, a movement so small he wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t been staring directly at her. Cursing, he shoved off her and got to his feet. Running his hands through his hair, he turned around and before he could think, he just reacted and sent his booted foot straight into the wall. Feelings were coursing through him, feelings he couldn’t decipher, along with a sudden rage he couldn’t control.

He spun back around and found Tegen sitting upright in his bed, glaring at him.

Tegen. ZZ. It wasn’t computing.

It was Tegen, for Christ’s sake. The bitch had been obsessed with him her entire fucking life and now, this weekend, with everything that had happened…

He was feeling her. He was motherfucking into this. And all along she’d had someone back home, not just anybody but one of his motherfucking brothers.

He’d been so sure she still loved him. How the fuck had he read that wrong?

“You fuckin’ him?” he demanded.

Her green eyes blazed with pure rage; she was working up to launching herself straight off his bed, nails ready to claw his eyes out, whatever it took. He had to hand it to her—for being such a slip of a woman, she had balls of steel. But what the fuck ever, he didn’t give two fucks how pissed she was about anything anymore. All these years he’d been taking flack for something he’d done while she’d been secretly shacking up with one of his brothers.

Her bullshit was going to end right the fuck now.

“Answer me, bitch!” he yelled.

She glared at him, unblinking, unmoving, without remorse. He could see it in her eyes. She didn’t give a fuck that she’d just jumped beds. She hated the club that fucking much. She hated him that much.

“Answer me!” he roared.

“Yes!” she hissed.

SHIT! Why did he even care?

She hadn’t been Teacup in a long time, she was just another bitch, another fucking whore who jumped from brother to brother.

So he’d liked fucking her, so fucking what? So ZZ liked fucking her too, who the fuck cared?

He was going to puke. He was going to motherfucking puke.

For the first time he actually wanted a girl to stick around and despite all the fighting, he liked spending time with her. Jesus. He’d wanted more. He’d stupidly wanted what his brothers had, he’d wanted it for a long time now, and he’d stupidly wanted it from Tegen.

He was a fucking moron. His old man was right. He was King fucking Stupid.

“Looks like you turned out just like your fuckin’ mom after all,” he spat, hitting her where he knew it would be the most painful.

He didn’t wait for a response, her eyes went saucer-wide and he whipped around, yanked open the door, and stormed off down the hall.

“You knew!” he yelled as he passed into the main room, pointing to where his father stood. “You fuckin’ knew Tegen was in Z’s bed,” he continued, “and you didn’t say a motherfuckin’ word to me!”

“What? Tegen and ZZ what?”

Cage noticed for the first time that Danny and Ripper had shown up along with their daughter, and Danny looked…not happy.

“Tegen’s what?” she demanded. “With who?”

He ignored her. He was too pumped up; he felt inside how Tegen had looked when facing off with his old man, trembling with rage, ready at any moment to explode and hoping like fucking hell when he did explode he’d be taking his father out with him.

Deuce’s eyes narrowed. “You for real, right now? Am I a fuckin’ datin’ service? You been stickin’ your shit in any hole that’ll take it, so what the fuck makes Tegen any damn different?”

Cage imploded.

“BECAUSE SHE’S TEGEN!” he roared. “She’s fuckin’ mine!”

His father’s unapologetic, unwavering stare did nothing but further upset him.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ say something’?” Cage demanded. “Or you just gonna stand there?”

“Where is ZZ?” Danny interjected, shoving in between him and their father. “In San Francisco?”

Cage opened his mouth, ready to tell her to go fuck herself, when Ripper beat him to it. Glaring, Ripper grabbed Danny’s arm and yanked her out from between them.

“Why do you give a fuck where ZZ is?” Ripper growled.

“Oh, shut up!” Danny snapped, yanking her arm from his grip. “We’ve all been worried about him. Don’t act like this is about anything more than that!”

“Z lives with her,” Deuce said and all eyes shot to him. “When he’s not on the road, and he’s on the road more often than not.”

“On the road doin’ what?” Ripper asked.

Deuce turned to Ripper, staring at the man but didn’t so much as blink. Cage, Ripper, and everyone else in the club knew exactly what that meant.

“Jesus,” Ripper said under his breath. “Z? Z’s doin’ that shit?”

Nobody said a word, because everyone already knew what “that shit” meant. Deuce had Z on the front lines, taking care of all the dirty business and overseeing it firsthand. It was gutter work, mostly bid out to nomads who couldn’t give a fuck if they lived or died.

“How long?” he demanded, referring to Tegen and ZZ.

Deuce stared at him. “Does it fuckin’ matter?”

“HOW FUCKIN’ LONG?” Cage yelled.

“Years,” Deuce replied, his voice tight with anger.

Years. Motherfucking years.

The nausea came back, this time worse.

What the fuck was going on? Did she love ZZ? The very thought of her rolling off him only to hop back on ZZ was making him want to not just slap the bullshit out of her but beat her fucking face in.

He couldn’t even fathom it, it was just so…

Fuck.

Tegen and ZZ…together? ZZ was too old for her. ZZ wasn’t just too old for her, ZZ was in over his head in some dangerous shit. Anybody, any one of the Horsemen’s enemies could follow him home and use Tegen against the club.

Fuck that. No way. She obviously didn’t love the motherfucker if she’d been more than happy to be choking on his dick for the past two days.

His fists clenched.

If Tegen was going to be in any brother’s bed, it was going to be his. It was him who she’d been fucking obsessed with all these years; it was him who’d popped her shit; it was him who’d fucked her, he couldn’t even count how many times, over the past two days. Him. Her. No one else.

Jesus.

Fuck it.

He didn’t even care how ridiculous he knew he sounded; he was just that out of his mind with anger and, fuck him straight to hell, jealousy.

Anger because she was going to split on him the second his old man lifted lockdown. Jealousy because it was ZZ she was going to be going home to. Jealousy because he was pretty positive whatever Tegen and ZZ had together, if it had lasted years already, that she wasn’t just going to quit the guy’s dick cold turkey because Cage had her during the last few days. And more anger because, why the fuck didn’t his old man tell him anything? Anything at all!

If he would have known, he never would have touched the bitch! He would have let her fucking bullshit piss him off as usual, but he would have sat on that shit instead of acting on it. Acting on it, despite the fucking awesome sex, hadn’t gotten him anywhere but dug in deeper inside the mess that was Tegen Matthews.

Now it was too damn late. He was dug in way too deep. He wanted more and he wasn’t going to wait for that feeling to come back again, with someone else, not after years of having boring, pointless sex with far more women than he was going to ever admit to, not after having what felt like the best sex in his entire fucking life with that crazy bitch. Because, shit, what if it didn’t ever come back? What if this was it? Say, he didn’t scoop this bitch up right here and now, and instead he waited for a less crazy bitch, with a lot less baggage, to come along but instead he ended up like Tap. Old and alone.

He was so fucking sick of being alone.

“Ellie?” Danny shrieked from behind him. His sister suddenly shoved past him and went running for the front door where, holy fuck, Ellie was standing, dressed in full leather, holding a helmet under her arm. And walking in behind her…

Cage’s eyebrows popped up.

“Is that Dirty?” Ripper whispered. “Or did Prez start handin’ out cuts to pretty boys?”

“Meeting!” Deuce bellowed.

“First order of business,” Ripper said dryly. “Does Dirty need a new name?”