Tori

 

     Why was I so warm? The last thing I remembered was Trench telling me his father was Duke Hadden. The man my mother sent me to find. Why had Trench kept that bit of information from me? Why not just mention who Duke was in the beginning?

     My eyes were still swollen and sore from crying and I groaned inwardly, thinking of how I must look. I had never given anyone a chance to see me that vulnerable before, Aaron excluded since he was the one who made me this way, and I was not entirely sure how Trench coaxed such strong emotions out of me, but I blamed it on his eyes. Those caramel rich eyes that seemed to consider my soul. I wasn’t waxing poetic either. They were simply mesmerizing.

     Feeling safe with anyone had become a foreign concept to me long ago. I tried to ignore the way Trench’s words affected me, but it would have been easier to make friends with the Devil than pretend Trench didn’t have the potential to grow on me.

     Fingers rubbed a leisurely trail up the outside of my thigh, settled on my hip and pulled my back against a wall. No, not a wall. A man as thick as a wall. I glanced down and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the flames that licked up Trench’s forearm and wrist. He groaned next to my ear and the vibration made me shiver, despite the fact he was putting off enough heat to warm a house. He exhaled a breath across my neck and the pieces of hair that came loose from my bun last night tickled at my skin.

     “How is it you smell so fucking good,” he rasped in a sleepy voice and inhaled my scent. The tip of his nose burned a trail from the base of my neck to the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. 

     “Trench…,” I sighed, relaxing and allowing my head to fall back against his chest. We’d been flirting around our attraction since we met. The teasing and touching that begged for more, but we both denied. Too unsure of one another to trust letting our guard down.

     “Hmmm,” he teased. His lips skimmed up the side of my throat before he gently pulled my earlobe into his mouth and bit down with gentle pressure, sending a shockwave to my core.

     “What are we doing here, Trench,” I asked foolishly and he paused. My mind screamed at me. What are you doing?

     “I could show you better than tell you,” he chuckled softly next to my cheek.

     “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

     I turned around so I was facing him and put a little space between us. As much as I wanted the man, I was trying to fight my own demons. I didn’t need to add more complication to my life. Trench wouldn’t be a complication though, would he? No, he would be a gift. One that I needed.

     “Your father made a promise to my mother, not me. All this shit with the Disciples could blow up in your face if you help me or it could blow over if you let me go. Seems like the obvious choice for a man in your position is the latter.”

     Trench rubbed a frustrated hand over his face and pushed off the bed, quickly finding his shirt and covering up the bare skin that had been keeping me warm before I’d gone and ruined the moment. Me and my big mouth.

     “You’re right. It would be much easier on all of us if I let you walk, but I think we both know you wouldn’t make it one day before the Disciples caught up to you. Is that what you want, Tori?”

     Trench grabbed his Pandemonium cut from the top of the dresser and turned to glare at me. The warmth he’d given so freely before had suddenly turned ice cold under his assessing eyes. I nodded in response because I felt like speaking at this point would have been dangerous. Trench cracked his neck before responding.

     “I pay my debts, Tori, and that extends to those my father had. You should be okay around the club now. I’m sure Stryker and Deuce have spread the word. I’ll have Jinx set you up in one of the rooms down the hall so you can be more…comfortable. If you need anything else, let Clutch or LoJack know.”

     I was being what? Dismissed? Trench was making it painfully obvious that there would be no love lost between us as I stared back into his cold eyes. Gone was the man that shared the memory of his father, and in his place, was a ruthless biker, the President of Pandemonium. The real Trench was coming out to roost and I was nothing more than collateral damage to his way of life. He sat at the end of the bed, pulled on his boots, laced them up faster than I knew possible and checked his weapon once before seating it in the back of his waistband.

     “And when is the debt considered paid in full? When the Disciples come back and wreak havoc for your club? Will you help me leave town or will you turn me over to them in exchange for something you want more?” I couldn’t hide the bitterness behind my saccharin tone. I wasn’t naïve anymore. I had been Aaron’s pawn for too long to forget how it felt to be used and I’d be damned if Trench was going to string me along for another turbulent ride.

     No man had ever come close to giving me what I needed to survive. Not my father, certainly not Aaron, and if Trench thought I needed a surrogate babysitter he was sadly mistaken. I would take him up on the offer to spend another night, but I wouldn’t stay beyond that unless I could earn my keep. Cleaning, cooking, balancing the books, whatever it took, outside of spreading my legs for any of the men. Maybe, my servitude would be enough to get Trench to buy me that bus ticket I desperately needed.

     My plans hadn’t changed, just my situation. Trench stood up and turned in my direction. His calm outward appearance did nothing to hide his fury.

     “If I planned to turn you over to the Disciples, sweetheart, I could have done it last night without leaving this fucking compound.” When my eyes widened he continued to fill in the blanks. “One of your Disciple friends stopped by to chat.” His voice was deceptively in control.

     “What? I have no Disciple friends.” I shouted.

     Vita might have been a friend, but she was dead, so it couldn’t have been her, and I was walking the short plank behind her. I began searching the room for a quick exit. Money? There were a few dollar bills tucked away in my wallet on the dresser, check. Clothes? Piled in the corner of the room next to the insanely impractical boots, check. Phone? Next to the wallet, check. My instinct to flee was back in full force. Where would I go? I had no money. Running off in the middle of the day with no plans on where I was going sounded like a terrific way to get myself killed.

     “We had unexpected company this morning. Said his name was Flex.”

     “You should have told me. And, why would you let a Disciple into your home?”

     “What did it matter? Is he a friend of yours?” Trench stepped around the bed until he was towering over me. “I let you in, didn’t I?” His hard eyes stared back at my own and I felt like I’d been slapped with his words. “Ever heard of fair exchange?”

     “I’ve heard of exchange. As for it being fair, well that’s debatable. Let’s get one thing straight, Trench.” I had reached my limit. He was being an asshole just for kicks. I had no idea why, but I would be damned if I let him stomp on me because he was offering a safe house, however temporary it might be. I pushed up to my knees and faced him. “I’m not a Disciple, asshole. Do you honestly believe the devil makes a fair exchange? Because that’s what they are, Trench. Every one of them is an extension of the devil himself. My father. None of the Disciples are saints. They’ll only give you what you need if you’re willing to barter more in return and even that is a big fucking ‘if’.”

     Trench’s eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he regarded me with irritated shock. As frustrated as I was with the man, I still wanted to rub my finger along the crease to smooth it back out. What did that say about my level of self-preservation?

     Flex was the only member of Dante’s Disciples that was an enigma to me. I’d noticed something different about him from day one. He was, like so many others, covered in ink and more piercings than I could count or see, but he was also hiding things about himself from the club, using outward appearances to cover it up. He was fooling Preacher and the rest of the Disciples, but he couldn’t convince me.  

     How else did I explain it? Flex was talking to one of the Disciples pulling security at the gate the night I escaped. I remember the moment Flex pinned me with his eyes. It was so dark, but I know he saw me slip through a hole in the fence line that should have been repaired by one of the prospects weeks before. Instead of signaling the dogs to attack, he let me go. He could have stopped me, but he’d let me slip away. No one does you a solid and expects nothing in return. I’d spent many sleepless nights wondering if he would come to collect, scared he would discover what I’d learned about him.

     “You still didn’t answer my question. Does he mean something to you? Flex?” Trench tensed and the odd question caught me off guard.

I shook my head.

     “It’s not like that. I hardly know him. I only saw Flex the few times when -,” my voice trailed off. Trench knew the rest. Flex had witnessed Aaron push me around a time or two. There was no point repeating it.

     Trench rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling and rubbing a hand down his face. I noticed he did this whenever he was fighting for control. He was pissed, too invested in my shit, and I hated it. I wanted to forget the abuse, erase that part of my life and replace it with new memories. I was just about to suggest a truce, but the pounding at his door interrupted that thought, my words dying just as quickly as my resolve around Trench. 

     “This better be fucking good,” he swung the door open to find Stryker standing in the hallway with a devious grin. I watched as Stryker’s eyes wandered towards the bed and I immediately readjusted Trench’s long shirt on me to hide as much skin as possible. Trench noticed Stryker’s attention too and he responded by craning his neck to further block Stryker’s view.

     “Alexei is downstairs with a couple of his men. He wants a minute with you,” Stryker straightened and his mood shifted to one of seriousness with the announcement.

     “What the fuck? We’re not scheduled for another run until next Friday,” Trench spoke low, but the irritation in his tone was evident. This was obviously not an arranged meeting.

     “Clutch and I told him as much, but Alexei isn’t budging. He’ll only speak to you about this. Whatever, this means.” Stryker crossed his arms and widened his stance. To anyone else Stryker would be imposing, but Trench remained relaxed and thoughtful for a moment.

     “All right, give me ten minutes. Have Jinx fix him up with the good shit in the back.”

     “Will do. I think Alexei has a thing for her anyway,” Stryker snorted and turned to walk back down the hall, mumbling something about Russian man whores.

     Trench closed the door and eyeballed me sitting at the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing over the stubble that was tickling my neck just moments before. A sensation I already missed.

     “Get dressed. Wear the black pants, tank top and boots we bought yesterday,” he commanded and when I didn’t move he raised an eyebrow in question. It wasn’t that I had not heard him correctly. I was confused. One minute we’re arguing about Flex, and the next, Trench is in control again. Dominating the situation and the room to the point of suffocation. “You’re under my protection now. No sense in hiding out up here. I’m sure you know word travels fast in my world.”

     If by his ‘world’ he meant the mutual criminal exchange network then he would be right. I knew the Disciples dealt with some of the darkest seeds in the unholy garden. I could only speculate that Pandemonium or any other outlaw MC would have a similar network of associates. Under Trench’s protection, though. That thought was disarming. It made me both anxious for his club and equal parts scared for myself. It also sparked a fire through me that I couldn’t deny. Aaron never protected me. Punish, yes, but safeguard, never.

     I stood up, a little unsure as my feet carried me towards Trench. He eyed me cautiously as he adjusted the buttons on the leather cut that signified his power within the Pandemonium MC. I was at least a foot shorter than him and our personalities were more like oil and vinegar. His vices, my virtues, my vices, his virtues. They all seemed to blend together whenever he watched me with that predatory smile. We had an undeniable energy that sparked larger than life and I was tired of fighting. For a minute, a day, a year. There was no measure of time too small that I wouldn’t accept for a release from all the bad shit running through my mind.

     Men used women to calm the beast within. Why couldn’t we do the same? The Tori who was once afraid of letting go, towing the line, and submitting, was gone. Out of the Disciples’ crippling clutches I could breathe for the first time and I realized I had Trench to thank for that. I wasn’t completely delusional. Trench was never going to be the long-term commitment type, but a part of me, namely the ache between my legs, wished he could give me at least the illusion of normal that I desperately desired. We could calm each other.

     My hands splayed across his lean stomach, where the lower buttons remained undone, running them slowly inside and around the back of his cut. I needed to feel his strength. Feed from it. My fingernails trailed back around to his chest and upward until they twined together at the back of his neck. I watched him for a sign. Anything to say I was wrong, that I should back away from this, from him, and leave well enough alone. Nothing came.

     My eyes pleaded with him to respond, but Trench’s gaze was closed off to me, a wall erected to keep out emotions that would force him to feel. I bit down on my bottom lip, a mixture of longing and anticipation coursing through my veins. If he rejected me, I would live, but I would also be yearning for the part of me that Trench brought out. The woman who acted on instinct instead of fear, the woman who wanted to succeed, the woman who wanted to be loved and love in return. Too much time had passed. It could have been seconds, but the tension between us made it feel like hours of indecision.

     I began to pull back. I wanted him, but he had to meet me halfway. Trench let out a deep-seated groan right before he crushed his lips over mine. This wasn’t the kiss of a familiar lover. It was unbridled passion. His tongue was warm and soft against my mouth as it licked a wanton trail across the seam, seeking entrance inside. His hands rose to cup my face and his fingers weaved through my hair, pulling me harder against him. Nothing about his touch was awkward. This wasn’t the clumsy first kiss of a new beau. This was every woman’s fantasy. He gave me what I wanted. What I craved. And I returned the favor with as much heat.

     When he finally pulled back from the most mind-blowing kiss I could ever recall, I was left breathless. My fingers skimmed across my swollen lips. I wanted more, everything he could give me, but we were running out of time before he needed to meet the man Stryker called Alexei. I assumed he was important to club business if Trench were making concessions to his unannounced appearance. Still, I cursed the man, sight unseen, for interrupting us.

     Trench laid his forehead against my own, his hands still gripping my head gently and holding me there as though I would back away and splinter the moment.

     “Get dressed, Tori, before I take you downstairs and claim your beautiful ass in front of a room full of men just to show them the only acceptable way to ever make a woman scream. Always pleasure. Never pain, babe.”

     His hands fell away slowly and his thumbs grazed over my lips as he backed up a step. I turned in search of my clothes, needing to break eye contact for a minute to clear my head. I yelped at the sting his palm sent across my ass. It was playful and Trench chuckled before turning the knob on the door and stepping out into the hall. “One fucking ride.” He shook his head, studying me.

     “What?”

     “Nothing. I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t keep me waiting.” He winked and closed the door behind him.  

     I dressed quickly, admiring the way the pants hugged my features. I had to admit, Trench had good taste. As soon as the boots were zipped, I combed my fingers through the messy waves that were the combined result of bedhead and not drying my hair last night. It was useless to do anything better more time. I noticed a small boutique bag on the bathroom counter that wasn’t there the night before. Curious, I reached into the bag and found a few brand-new women’s hygiene products along with unopened makeup. The expensive variety I’d never been allowed to have or buy on my own. I smoothed on a generous amount of lip shimmer and applied some eyeliner and mascara. I didn’t usually wear makeup so even a little went a long way with my skin tone. I had no idea what I would be walking into, but for now at least, I knew I needed to fit the image of a biker’s lady if I was going to blend in and avoid further confrontations like the one with Jinx. I wasn’t Trench’s old lady, but while he was protecting me I was going to at least play the part. I could do that much. It wasn’t a far stretch from my former life.

     I took a deep breath and scrunched the bottom of my blonde hair one more time. I remembered seeing another gun in the top drawer of Trench’s dresser when I was searching for a shirt last night. I slid the draw open and stared at the cool black metal of the pistol. It was small enough to conceal in the back of my jeans. Taking it was a huge risk, though I hoped Trench wouldn’t punish me too severely. I was a minnow in a sea full of hungry sharks and the weight of the gun provided me with a comfort I’d been missing for far too long. I wasn’t afraid of guns. It seemed one was always in arms reach when I was around the Disciples, but kept far enough from me to prevent any murderous attempts.

     The gun wasn’t meant to be seen, but knowing it was on me would go a long way in steeling my nerves for whatever awaited downstairs. A sense of relief washed over me when I palmed the weapon in my hand, checked the safety, and pushed it into the back waistband of my jeans as Trench had done with his own gun earlier. It was snug, but the added pressure lent reassurance. My step-father, Rick, taught me to shoot as a teenager. He kept a couple rifles and handguns when he married my mother. She wouldn’t acquiesce to having firearms in our home unless I knew how to use them. He agreed. Unfortunately, Rick wasn’t armed when Preach led his attack against our home. Maybe if he had been, I wouldn’t be in this position.

     I found one of Trench’s leather jackets in the closet, using it to better conceal the outline of the weapon. No need to raise any red flags in a room full of armed men who didn’t know or trust me.

     I startled to find LoJack standing in wait outside Trench’s bedroom, his heavy frame leaning casually against the rails. He turned back at my sound and smiled as he took in my noticeable changes. If I was going for subtle, I failed miserably. Judging by his expression, my transformation probably looked more like the scene in Grease where Sandy makes herself over to impress Danny.

     “You clean up nice, sweetheart. Don’t know why I didn’t see it before,” he mused.

     “Didn’t see what?” I snapped back, feeling as though I should defend myself. For what, I didn’t know. These men made me super sensitive.

     “Relax. Just saying I see it now. Your clothes were seriously killing the fantasy, babe,” he jerked his head toward the stairs, gesturing for me to lead the way, and I tried hard not to blush. In his own way, the man was paying me a compliment. When I ran from the Disciples, I wanted to be as far removed from the life as possible, but you can’t fight what lives in your blood I guess. “You ready?”

     “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

     “No better time than the present. And right now, you look like a gift wrapped in black leather. Trench will be impressed.”

     LoJack never made a move to touch me, only walked behind me as we made our way downstairs where Trench sat at the bar talking to a dark-haired male. The sound of my boots clicking against the concrete caught their attention and the room went silent. Some things are universal in MC circles. The brothers did not discuss club business around women. As in ever.

     “Well, well, well, comrade. What do we have here? I show up to surprise you and instead, you surprise me. You have gotten me a gift, yes?” The man’s thick Russian accent carried across the room while his deadly eyes slowly undressed me.

     I stopped in my tracks, halted by his words. Was that what LoJack meant by a gift wrapped in black leather? Was Trench trading me to the Russians? I began to panic, my eyes darting to Trench for answers.

     He must have been distracted. Trench regarded me with hungry eyes of his own, a gleam of possession sparked within and I relaxed slightly. He said he would protect me. I should trust that a man in his position would be true to his word. Right? His word was his bond. The devilish smirk and the way he licked his bottom lip in appreciation had me squeezing my thighs together a little tighter. Either these damn skinny jeans were restricting my blood flow or I was my body was becoming overly sensitive to every brush of fabric against my skin.

     I didn’t need any more sensation in that area. If Trench kept pinning me with those whiskey eyes I might combust in front of this room full of strange men, virtue be damned. He was pure sin, his body now turned, his elbows leaning against the bar to admire me. I felt like a piece of red meat being thrown to a den of lions.

     “Afraid not, Alexei. You know I don’t share,” Trench shot him a cursory glance, but he was staking his claim with his eyes. I was his. For the moment only, but no one else needed to know otherwise.

     “There was a time when you did, my friend, but I can’t say as I blame you with this one. Is she your claimed?”

     Alexei’s deep accent was silk to my ears. A dangerous mixture when combined with his confusing personality. He moved with a sickly-sweet calm, while still wrapped in a deadly arsenal of shoulder holsters and enveloped by brooding guards on either side of his place at the bar. He unnerved me. His face was pocked with tiny scars, but his deceptively silky voice managed to draw attention away from his rugged outward features. No doubt, it was a trap he had perfected. Make the object of interest feel relaxed with his tone to encourage them closer before swooping in for the kill.

     Trench beckoned me forward with his hand and my feet moved without hesitation. I had trouble resisting anything he wanted. There could have been an invisible line tethering me to him. One that seemed to pull me closer with one look, one whispered word from his lips.

     His eyes suggested something deeper, but I assumed that was all part of the act. It was show time and I was going to make a production of it. I sashayed my hips a little more than necessary as I passed by Alexei. When I reached Trench, I spread my hands across the tops of his denim-clad thighs. He spread his legs wide enough to give me room to step between. His arms slid off the bar top as he leaned forward, pulling me closer while his hands encircled my waist. Trench paused when his fingers ran over the butt of the gun before they lowered into the back pockets of my jeans. He squeezed my ass hard in silent acknowledgement that he was aware of what I was holding.

     My heartrate sped up from the warning. He could have taken the gun from me, punished me for my actions, but I sensed this was his way of remaining discreet, and perhaps building trust between us. I stood motionless, but my legs felt like gelatin as his fingers massaged a little gentler, this time sending a jolt of arousal through my body.

     “Alexei, this is Tori. And yes, my friend, she is mine,” Trench’s voice said firmly, brooking no argument from the Russian associate.

     “You do well for yourself, Trench. I am jealous of your new prize.”

     “Then you’ll forgive me if I want to hurry this along.” Trench glanced to Alexei before returning his gaze to me. “I have other…business that requires my undivided attention.”

     Trench leaned in and licked the spot beneath my ear. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped. The shameless sound drew a few chuckles from the men in the room and one irritated snort, from a very pissed off Jinx. I played right into Trench’s skillful hands. Literally and figuratively. It was too easy to melt into his touch and let him control the room. Control me.

     “Of course, but perhaps we should have some privacy, for a few minutes. I’m afraid your beautiful friend will have to find other things to keep her busy for a moment.” Alexei’s eyes tracked Trench’s hands to where they rested on my waistline.

     “Not this time, friend. She stays. I like this one close.” Trench held tight to me, but looked over his shoulder and motioned to Jinx to leave the room. Alexei’s brows rose in question and Trench simply shrugged. “She’s a bit of an addiction, but she can be trusted. Can’t you, sweetheart?”

     I didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath and disapproving looks from Clutch and LoJack standing nearby. They were as confused as I felt, but I was not going to question Trench in front of Alexei, or anyone else for that matter.

     In an MC, it’s always best to know your role and stay in your lane. You never go against the club President. His word was law.