The drugs that Doc gave me made everything a little hazy and I didn't even feel a thing when he moved me from the sofa to my bedroom. The old dude was strong, I'd give him that. He’d laughed the whole way through pulling the bullet out and stitching me up. I wished I could have felt my arm during that time because boy, did I want to clock him.
“Found yourself a man, huh?” he mused as he pulled the needle through my skin. I was lucky. The bullet had gone into the fleshy part at the top of my shoulder and missed everything important.
“Yeah, something like that,” I grumbled.
“Don’t seem too happy with the idea.”
“I like my life. He chucked a spanner in the works and it’s thrown me a little,” I admitted.
Kit was an amazing guy. He was harsh and commanding, but he had a huge heart that cared about his friends and family. That was evident from the moment I’d been in his presence. I just wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to claim me? It wasn’t like I wouldn’t have handed him my body on a silver platter given the chance. But he’d refused to take me until he knew I belonged to him.
I didn’t want to belong to anyone. I’d seen the way some of these men treated their Old Ladies. Hell, I’d helped them cheat at times. Not all, but many weren’t faithful. That was the way of an MC. No matter how much I adored these men, the reality was that they had a God-like complex.
I didn’t want that for me. I didn’t want to fall head-over-sexy-heels for a man who only wanted me for the privilege of saying he owned me. I didn’t want to watch in heartache, sitting at home twiddling my thumbs while he screwed club pussy like an energizer bunny.
I respected the club. I respected their rules. But there was a reason I’d chosen the life of a club girl and not pushed to be an Old Lady – there weren’t feelings involved. I knew what I was to them. It was clear as day. They wanted pussy and only pussy.
Kit wanted more, and I’d spent so long offering only my body and keeping the rest of myself locked away. I wasn’t sure if I knew how to give him anything more than that.
Doc stood and moved to the bathroom to dispose of his gloves and wash his hands. When he came out, he hit me with a hard look that I’d never seen from him before. “You’re treating it like you’re walking the damn plank. Taking an Old Lady is making a promise that you will be cherished by not only your man, but the whole club. They will lay down their lives for you. They’ll support you. They’ll care for you. You’ll have family forever.”
Serious was not a word I ever associated with Doc. But here he was, straight-faced and stony. It was clear the club meant a lot to him and I felt as though I was disrespecting him by brushing off the idea of being claimed by Kit.
I tried not to let his lecture affect me. “I’ve had men make me false promises my entire life. I don’t need them now. I found the club and there was no bullshit. They know what they want, I know what they want.”
“And what false promises have been made?”
“A promise of protection,” I said solemnly. Kit had promised to protect me while I was his. Look where that had gotten me.
Doc nodded. “I get it, Harm. But the world doesn’t stop to consider our vows to our loved ones, neither do the people around us who make their own decisions without thinking about how they will affect others. I can swear to my lady that I’ll be home for dinner, but if there’s an accident on the highway because some asshole decided to drink and drive and I get caught in traffic then I’m going to be bloody late aren’t I.”
I let out a small laugh. “That’s a horrible comparison.”
He smiled. “The boy gives a shit about you. Sometimes he’ll promise to be there for dinner, but he won’t make it. Doesn’t make him a bad person. You just gotta throw the dinner in the microwave and wait for him.”
“Doc, just a suggestion, don’t ever go into motivational speaking,” I told him, closing my eyes and throwing my good arm over my face. I felt the numbing wearing off and my shoulder was beginning to throb.
He started throwing orders at me – don’t drive, don’t get the bandage wet, take pain medication every four hours, no sudden movements or I’ll pull the stitches. Blah, blah, blah. Acknowledging his lecture with a hand wave, I heard him snort and after a small amount of shuffling the door opened and closed. I sighed. If only I could get the room to stop spinning now.
“How you feeling?” Kit’s voice made me jump, causing the dull pain in my arm to sharpen. I groaned, wishing this had all just been one big nightmare.
“You been shot before?”
“Yeah.”
“Then do you really need to ask?” I flung at him, not even bothering to lift my arm from my face.
I heard him move closer to the bed before it dipped slightly, not quite enough to jostle me. “You could have answered without the damn attitude.”
I lifted my arm just enough to glare at him from beneath it. He stared me down, I should have known better than to try and intimidate Mr. Scowly-face.
“I’m sore.”
“How are your legs?”
“Sore,” I snapped.
“What’s your fucking problem? The bullet hit your bitch switch?” He grabbed my wrist and pulled my arm from my face, pinning it to my side.
“I was almost kidnaped! And if that wasn’t enough, I got shot.”
“Did I shoot you?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Then why the fuck are you biting at my ass about it?”
I sighed, my body was too exhausted and I felt like I was going to vomit. I knew I was being unreasonable. It wasn’t his fault but felt like I needed someone to blame and he was there. “I just want to sleep. Can you go?”
“No, I can’t go. My woman was almost taken from me.” I felt sorry for shooting my mouth off at him, but I was hurting and I was tense. “There’s a whole shit-storm about to start and we need to talk about it.”
I wiggled my arm from his tight grasp and attempted to pull my body up on the bed, so I was in a sitting position. Kit reached out to help, but I shook him off. I knew I was being a brat, but I couldn’t help it. The need to push him away was too strong. “You’re heading home tomorrow. It’s not your problem.”
He moved off the bed and toward my desk. “That’s what we need to talk about.”
“We really don’t—”
“Harmony,” he yelled, slamming his palms down on the hard wooden surface. My body jumped at the loud noise which echoed in the small room. I grimaced with pain, but he never faulted, looking at me like it served me right for the way I was acting. “Will you just stop and listen to me for one God-damn minute.”
I didn’t speak. I wanted to give him hell and tell him to turn around and get out. I wanted him to leave and never come back. But unfortunately for me, my brain disagreed and refused to relay my wants to my mouth. It actually needed to hear what he had to say.
Stupid brain. I knew it was defective.
“Now listen, and listen real good,” he said slowly. “I took ownership of you—”
My mouth opened, but he hit me with a glare that dared me to speak and it shut again pretty quickly. Respect for the Brothers had been burned into me.
“I took ownership of you. That means you are my responsibility. Your safety – on me. Your wellbeing – on me. The words that come out of your mouth when people are around to hear them – on me. I take that shit seriously. I am a President of the Brothers by Blood,” his voice seemed to strain as he forced himself to continue, “You got hurt and that shit is on me.”
My heart jumped a little as he reiterated exactly the point I had been mulling over with Doc moments before. He’d vowed protection. I hadn’t been protected.
“I won’t make the same mistake again and for that reason, I’ve made a decision.” I swallowed sharply. I wasn’t sure of what was coming next. Part of me expected him to say he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t claim me because he didn’t want the burden. My heart hurt at the idea, even though it was what I thought I wanted. The other part of me laughed, knowing it was a stupid thought to begin with.
“You’re coming back with me.”
The words vibrated in the room and I stared at him in shock. “No.”
“You gave yourself to me, Harmony. You accepted my claim.”
“When I thought you’d be here for a few days.”
He shrugged. “I never put a time limit on it.” I racked my brain, knowing he was right but still willing to argue the point anyway. “Don’t fight me on this, babe. You won’t win. I’m within my rights to order you to, but I’d rather it not come to that.”
“My life is here, Kit. The club, my friends – my school!”
“You’re outta school for a couple of weeks. The club has enough girls and you can still talk to your friends. I’m not locking you in a padded room and throwing away the key. I’m doing what I need to do to protect what is mine. And you, you are mine.”
“So you continue to remind me…” I commented dryly.
He slams his hands on the desk again before stalking toward me and getting right in my face. “One day we are going to have a serious talk about why you continue to push me away. I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but you need to get rid of that toxic shit and soon. For now though, my main priority is making sure that you’re safe and that you rest. I don’t give a flying fuck if you don’t want to come. I will drag you kicking and screaming if that’s what it takes to keep you from harm because you know what? You gave me that right when you accepted my ownership of you and spread that tight little pussy for my cock.”
I sat stunned.
He was right and I knew it.
There was no point in arguing. I had given myself to him; even if it was in a lust-filled state. I hadn’t seen the meaningfulness of his words before then.
‘You giving yourself to me?’
I’d assumed he just didn’t want to share me while he was here. But I was wrong. Kit had all out claimed me, and in the MC world, ownership was a strong theme. You didn’t just walk away from this kind of stuff, the only way out is if he lets me leave.
And I knew from the look in his eye, he wasn’t going to let me walk away without a fight.