HANNAH
Carter stopped talking to Carly when I walked into the clubhouse. His eyes told me his anger hadn’t subsided after our chat earlier. My arm still hurt from where he squeezed me and shook me as he bellowed into my face. The stench of liver and onions from his breakfast still lingered in my nostrils.
“Where the hell were you?” he yelled from the bar.
“Went to grab some breakfast.” I held up my food container.
“Yeah. I heard about your little date.” He made his way over to me. Carly shot me a sympathetic glance from behind him.
“I wasn't on a date, Carter. I picked up my breakfast after I ran to the post office for Martin.” I pulled out the receipt and shoved it at him.
“I don't want to hear you’re hanging with that Rider asshole.” He snatched the flimsy paper out of my hand. “You work here, and if he’s gonna keep stopping by your room, you need to start collecting my fee.”
As far as I knew, Brandon didn’t know there was a fee. He took me for a club whore. Which was worse? I didn’t even know anymore. “Fine. I’m gonna go eat.” I turned and left him glaring at my back. Fuck him.
How the hell was I going to tell Brandon he had to pay me if he came by again? I’d never collected the money before. The guys dealt with Carter. Now I had to give him a quote? My bed creaked when I sank into it. My breakfast sat cold in its container on my night table. I had no appetite. Everything got shittier with Carter. He enjoyed making my life hell, and I had no idea why. I hadn’t done anything to him. I’d never even met him until Lisa brought me to the clubhouse.
It would be easy to blame Lisa for my situation, but she never made me go with her. I should have known not to bother with the club. I remembered enough from high school to know these assholes were bad news. After Mom died, I didn’t have anything. Every penny I had went to her bills and her funeral expenses. The few friends she’d had all jumped ship when she took a turn for the worse. People just can’t stand to watch death take over a person’s life.
Coming back to Spring Valley hadn’t been my first choice, but I knew I’d be able to get some work and find a place to rent that I could afford. I only wanted to crash at Lisa’s for a while, just until I got on my feet. When she mentioned the club, I should have ran. Hell, when she told me she was dating the VP, I should have ran and taken her with me.
I pulled the nursing brochures out again. Brandon had fished them out of the trash and left them on my dresser. Carter couldn’t stop me from taking a class. Just one, in the mornings, before I needed to tend bar for the men.
Imagining life outside the club was dangerous, but, for the moment, I let myself wander. Working at a hospital would be nice. The day shift, so I could go home at night and have dinner with Brandon–wait. No. Brandon was just another biker. How’d he get in my daydreams? I needed to push that idea away and quick. Being with Brandon would just be a team change; the game would be the same. And I’m sick of the game.
The evening shift on a Friday never left me longing for excitement. The strip club did twice as much business, which meant the girls would be busy out there all night long, leaving me to deal with the members who didn’t feel like strolling the five hundred feet to the club. Carter never let the members fuck around with the girls on busy nights. They were for paying customers.
“Hannah, a little bird told me you were with Brandon yesterday.” Martin took a long pull of his beer.
“You need a new bird.” I wiped down a few glasses. A group of guys racked up the pool balls in the far corner, carrying on about a bet.
“He’s trouble, Han.” The big brother tone made me smile.
“So are you.” I winked and moved on to the next glass.
“I’m serious. Carter will have your head-”
“Martin, I have no interest in Brandon or any other biker. When I’m done here, I’m moving on. Away from this town, this club. So relax okay?”
“He’s never gonna okay that nursing shit.” He scratched his chin under the beard that was long overdue for a clip.
“I know.” I nodded. “But maybe you could talk to him?” I leaned over the bar, letting my breasts press against his hand.
His eyes went straight for my cleavage and he sighed. “One day, I might just visit your room there, little lady.” He threatened. It was the same empty threat he made every time he stepped in for me with Carter.
“You’ll do it?”
“I’ll try.” He sighed. “I’ll tell him we could use someone with medical skills around here.”
“He’ll hate you for it.” I grinned at him again. Whatever hold Martin had on Carter worked to my benefit. But, I knew there was something there–something that gave Martin an edge.
“He can’t hate me.” Martin slid the empty bottle toward me and stalked off into the back room. Two other guys followed him. “Beers, Hannah!” Martin’s voice shook the wall. Asshole. Just loved to throw his weight around after he got through being sweet with me.
“You really think Martin is going to be able to help?” Carly asked as she tied her apron on.
“I don't know. But I have to do something. There has to be something after all of this.” I leaned pulled out a few bottles of beer from the cooler.
“Look. Carter hates the Satan’s Riders. If he thinks you're starting to hook up with the Brandon guy, it could be bad for you. Real bad.”
“I’m not hooking up with anyone. I just want to get through this nightmare and move on.” I cradled the beers in my arms and headed off to the back room. I could feel her staring at my back. She knew how bad I wanted out of the club, but she also knew how bad Carter could be about it.
Martin sat at the table in the back room with Carter and a few of the other patched members. I barely knew their names, and really couldn't have cared less about them. One of them, the guy with piercing through his tongue, I knew him. He came to my room once in a while. Never wanted to fuck, just wanted me to jerk him off. I could feel him eyeing me as I handed out the beers to the guys.
“We can’t let them get through the next month. They have to fuck up.” Carter slammed his hand on the table just as I placed his beer down. He glared up at me, like it was my fault he almost spilled the bottle. “Get out.” He jerked a thumb toward the door.
“Gladly.” I mumbled and made my way out. I slowed down as I walked back to the bar, listening to Carter ramble on about the Riders.
“I want their territory. The next run, I want it fucked up, and I want the blame on their doorstep.”
“Hey, Hannah!” Carly jerked me back to reality. They just started the alliance with the Riders, why fuck with it already? I’ve never paid any attention to club business before, not my business, not my problem–but Brandon would be on the receiving end of that shit storm if Carter managed to do what he was planning. Telling Brandon could– no, would–get me killed. Not telling him could get him killed. “Hey, where's your head?” Carly grinned at me as she pushed a few drinks my way. “The guy’s in the pool room.”
The door opened as I put the drinks down by the pool table. Before I turned around, I knew what I would be facing.
Brandon stood only a few feet from me. He nodded toward me, then stalked off toward the back. Carly looked from me to him, then called back to Carter that he had company. I busied myself with cleaning off tables and getting more drinks flowing for the dozen guys sitting around the lounge. Better to keep him away from me, and show Carter I wanted nothing to do with him.
That lasted all of an hour. After Carter was finished with his little meeting he walked Brandon over to me, slapping him on the back. “All yours.” He waved at me as Brandon walked back to my room. I shot Carter a glare who only rubbed his fingers together in response. Collect his fee. Right.