The motel isn’t as bad as I’d imagined. I don’t know what it is about some bikers, but they seem to love squalor as much as they do pussy and fighting. But Slade had pulled in and specifically asked to see how clean the rooms were before he checked us in.
He doesn’t come across like any other biker I’ve known. He’s gorgeous for one. I may be distressed and grieving, but I’m not blind. He has a stunning bone structure and pouty full lips, but none of that matters when his bright eyes fall on me. They’re mesmerizing. It’s not his looks though, it’s the empathy he has. Unlike his father, he seems to understand how hard this is for me and how wrong all this bullshit is. He treads carefully with me instead of telling me to suck it up and shut up.
“I’ll take the chair,” he says softly, aware of how my nerves have ramped up a gear since walking into the small room.
Nodding, I give him a half-smile, grateful but too uneasy to risk forming words. I know if I open my mouth, nothing but a high-pitched whine will come out. As much as he had promised not to touch me, it doesn’t mean he actually won’t. I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. I’ve lived this life; I know damn well what strange things the brothers like to do to girls. Slade knows I’m a club brat, and club brats aren’t usually known for their purity.
“Listen.” His sudden voice vibrates into the room.
I turn to face him, surprised to find he looks as uneasy as me. He appears to struggle with something as he fidgets in a bag he’d pulled from the trunk and brought inside with us.
“It’s not much, but I thought you could sleep in this.” He hands me a large white tee, undeniably one of his own by the size of it. “It’s clean.”
Slowly, I take it from him. “Thank you. I’ll admit it’ll be good to get out of these dirty clothes.”
He nods. “The motel has a laundry service. I’ll make sure they’re clean by the morning for you.”
His thoughtfulness is a little bizarre. There he goes again, acting nothing like most other bikers, and it’s pretty rare to find one with an ounce of consideration for girls.
“I’ll let you wash up and I’ll see if I can find us some coffee.”
Coffee.
He smirks when my eyes light up with that one single word, a word that means ecstasy to my belly.
“You take cream and sugar?”
I nod eagerly. “Some candy would be good too, please. If you can find any.”
He chuckles, not even attempting to hide his amusement this time. “Coffee and candy coming up.” Maybe he’s just soft, given a break by the other brothers because of his father, and it makes him, dare I say it… nice. Maybe he has a great mom who taught him manners and how to treat women. If that were true though, what the hell happened with his horrendous brother? They’re so different, or maybe this nice thing is all an act to make me compliant. My head is throbbing from the stress of it all and my mind won’t switch off. It’s exhausting.
Finding the bathroom, I quickly strip and step under the spray of hot water. My body sighs and sags in relief as the vigorous jets massage my aching joints. Although my cheekbone smarts, the gush of freshening water that spills over my head is a respite to the pain. My hair is matted in my fingers, and thankful for the motel’s initiative to provide cheap but welcoming toiletries, I vigorously work it back to health before wrapping an overwashed towel around me and stepping out.
Steam has veiled the mirror. Wiping it with the flat of my hand, a gasp leaves me when I’m greeted by my reflection. My eyes are red and underlined with dark circles. The huge bruise on my cheek glows against the dampness of my skin, and my once soft lips are pale and cracked.
Grabbing the edge of the basin, I close my eyes and blow out a steadying breath. I’m in better shape than Jenna.
“Look, I’m not going to lie. She was with two sick bastards for a while before we got to her and she’s pretty banged up.”
Slade’s words echo in my head, driving a phantom stake through me. My heart lurches when I think of what those bastards have put her through.
“I’ll make it up to you, Jenna.” I whisper to the mirror like it’s magical and she can hear me. “I promise I’ll make them pay. All of them.”
Anger twists my belly and I scrunch Slade’s shirt in my fist, my imagination soothing me when I think of how I’ll get my revenge on his brother. But I have to be careful. Slade seems kind enough, but he’s still the heir to Lilith’s Army, and his club comes before anyone, even his old lady.
Old lady.
I never wanted to be anyone’s old lady. I’d often dreamed of one day finally being able to leave the club life. I dreamed each night of college, of making something of myself–a life of my own. I knew my father would never allow me to leave permanently; I was lucky he permitted high school. I swear my dad just wanted me to roll over for a random brother and produce him lots of grandchildren. What kind of father wants that for his daughter? I miss my mother. My life would be so different.
“Help me through this, Mom. Please.”
Sighing, I banish my self-pity and slip the t-shirt over my head. I’m assaulted by Slade’s scent. Strangely, it’s quite comforting, and I’m not sure if I should pull it closer to my skin or gag at my own thoughts.
“Coffee and candy,” Slade shouts through the bathroom door.
My stomach growls at the thought of coffee, the promise of caffeine the only thing helping me through right now.
Coming into the room I’m over eager snatching up the offered container of deliciousness.
Slade laughs when I take a long sip and close my eyes in delight.
“Good?”
“Very.”
Settling into the chair, he pulls a blanket over him and watches me. “So, what’s the story with you and the cop’s kid?”
His question turns the coffee sour as it hits my stomach, and I swallow hard. “I’d rather not talk about Dean.”
His eyes narrow and he stares at me. “You loved him.”
“No,” I reply honestly. “But I cared a lot for him.” Hot, angry tears scorch my eyes and I blink them away, refusing to show this man any more of my hurt. “He was good, decent. Not like biker bastards.”
Coffee sloshes over my hand when Slade’s firm body pushes me against the wall. His glare is fierce, turbulent. “Not all bikers are bastards. And not all bastards are bikers, princess. If you’re to be my old lady and make me happy then you’ll learn to clip your fucking tongue!”
My mouth falls open in shock. For the first time, I witness a side of Slade I don’t like; a dark side. I know without a doubt that I’ll see it again, but for now, I struggle to handle it. Fear slides over me and the tears I had forbidden call me a fool and topple over.
Make him happy? Is he seriously deluding himself into thinking I would want that? To cater to my forced-on-me husband?
“The bikers in my life were, are, bastards. In the same way as I’m sure all the women you’ve fucked are whores, my dear husband,” I add with a sneer.
Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?
The laugh that leaves him is cold, as icy as the way his eyes pin me down. He’s so close that I can feel his heart beating against my own and the aroma of lemon tea on his breath tickles my nostrils. For a long moment, the only dialogue between us is via his gaze, the fury in his eyes silently saying so many words. A part of me wants to push him away, but another part wants him to see my anger, the rage that simmers beneath my skin, like the violence and domination that slithers under his own.
He bites his lip and my gaze involuntarily drops to observe how the plump flesh nearly splits under the force. I know he’s trying to rein in his anger with me but I refuse to back down. Instead, I try to meet him halfway.
“Look, maybe things are different in your club, but in mine, I’m not looked up to because I’m the president’s daughter. There’s no respect in that. I’m a pampered princess to them. A brat. So forgive me if I don’t see things the way you do.”
His eyes narrow further with each of my words and, slowly, he shakes his head. “How other clubs are run has no impact on my own shit, princess. But I’ll tell you now that if you don’t give me and my club respect then don’t expect it to be returned. You curb your lip and I’ll give you the respect you think you deserve.”
“I don’t think I deserve it!” I argue, angry that he refuses to meet me in the middle. “I would just like to be regarded as something other than a fucking pampered bitch. My father has never spoiled me. In fact, he has always fucking hated me!” I’m getting too emotional, yet I can’t seem to stop the words and the truths from tumbling out of me. “I’ve never been good enough for him. His brothers are more loved by him than I am. Don’t you dare think you know how my life is, or who I am. You don’t know me, Slade. And until you do, I would appreciate you keeping your judgments to yourself.”
Amusement flashes in his eyes. “You know,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath making me shiver when it tickles my skin. “You’re pretty entertaining. You’re going to be so much fun to goad.”
Before I can get over his words, he turns away and disappears into the bathroom.
“Asshole!”
“It’s too early in our relationship for you to offer up your ass to me, princess!” he shouts through the door.
“Fuck you!”
“As I said….” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t because he’s laughing too hard.