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Tray (A Hell's Harlem Novel Book 2) by J.M. Walker (15)

TRAY SHOT UP off the bed, leaving me to my own tired state. I was exhausted but in a delicious way. I had never expected to see what looked like someone standing outside his window. The large shadow had disappeared faster than the words leaving my lips but it didn’t stop Tray from pulling me from the bed.

“Get dressed.”

“What?” I yawned again.

“Zillah, get dre—” He paused, standing upright. His eyes moved around the room. I didn’t know how, seeing as it was dark. The only thing I could see was the outline of him thanks to the dim moonlight streaming in from the window.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, an icy cold shiver racing down my spine.

In a quick move, Tray cupped my face. “Get dressed. Please.”

I nodded. I rushed around the room, trying to find my clothes. “Can we turn on the light?”

“No.”

I looked up then and found Tray standing by the window. He was peeking out the curtains.

“Tray.” My foot brushed something soft. I bent down, picking up what I could only assume was clothing. “Tray,” I repeated.

He met my gaze.

“You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t mean to but I really need you to get dressed and fucking quick.” Tray went to his closet and turned on the dim light in the smaller room. “Come here.”

I rushed to his side.

He pulled the items from my hands and helped me into the shirt and what was thankfully my leggings.

“I can dress myself,” I told him when he crouched at my feet to help me into my flats. For whatever reason at the start of our night, he made me put my bag and shoes in his bedroom. I realized now that he had a reason for it. He always had a reason for everything he did.

“I know. I know you can do everything for yourself but I …”

When his voice trailed off and his hand softly grazed over my ankle, his body shuddered.

“Hey.” I knelt in front of him. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “I need you to stay in here while I check shit out. Can you please do that without fighting me?”

I brushed his bangs off his forehead and kissed him softly on the mouth. “Of course.” As much as I wanted to demand answers, I knew not to press him at the moment. Something was off.

Tray blew out a slow breath and rose to his full height, pulling me with him. He pushed me back into the room that I then realized was much larger than I thought.

“Do you know how to use one of these?” he asked, opening the top drawer to a dresser and handing me a small pistol.

I took it from him, cocked it, turned off the safety, and kept my finger on the trigger. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He kissed my forehead, letting his lips linger. “I won’t be long.”

“Please hurry.” I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know if what I saw was actually a man standing outside his window or if it was just my imagination. But what I did know was that I was absolutely terrified.

“If anyone comes to this door that isn’t me, shoot them in the kneecaps. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” I nodded quickly.

His jaw ticked as he looked from me to the door and back to me again. “Please stay in here.”

“I will. I promise,” I added for reassurance.

He blew out a slow breath and left the walk-in closet, shutting the door behind him.

Several minutes had passed. The silence screamed inside my head.

“Tray?” I whisper-yelled. The doorknob turned. My heart picked up speed. When Tray appeared in the door way, I ran to him. “That was too long and too fucking scary for me.”

“I know.” He wrapped an arm around me, carrying me out of the closet and out into the hall.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I couldn’t find anything. Whoever you saw is no longer here,” Tray said, holding me tight against him.

“If he isn’t here then why is the door to your patio smashed?” I asked, seeing the broken pieces of glass littering the floor.

“I was sent a message.”

I squirmed in Tray’s arms. “Put me down.”

“Nope. Not happening.” He carried me out of the house, locked the door, and walked us over to his SUV. He didn’t let me down until he was placing me in the passenger seat.

“What message where you given?” I asked him, not liking the rough edge about him.

Tray shut me in the vehicle and ran around to the driver’s side door. Once he was seated beside me, the air around us became thick with tension.

“Tray, please.” I placed a hand gently on his arm, trying so damn hard to get him to tell me what the hell was happening.

He blew out a slow breath, gripping the steering wheel tight in his hands.

“Talk to me,” I repeated, silently begging him to tell me what was going on.

Suddenly, Tray punched his fist against the steering wheel. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tray, enough.” I grabbed his hand, stopping him from hurting himself. “Talk to me.”

His dark eyes met mine. “Are you fucking sure I’m worth it?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, taken aback by his words.

“Are you sure—”

“I heard you. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Why would you ask me that?”

Tray looked away, pulled his hand from mine, and turned on the SUV. Speeding out of the driveway, we drove several minutes in silence before either of us said anything. I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know why he shoved me into his closet. To protect me? From what? And I also didn’t know why his patio door had been smashed in.

“I need—Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t even know what I need anymore.”

“What happened? Did you find something? Don’t treat me like a little girl. I’m younger than you. I get that. But I need you to treat me like an adult.”

Tray’s jaw ticked. “No, you’re definitely not a little girl. Not when my cock is deep inside you and you’re begging for it.”

“Don’t be crude.” I turned back around and crossed my arms under my chest.

“You seemed to like my crudeness not too long ago, Zillah.”

“Yeah, I did because you weren’t being an asshole then.”

Tray tossed something in my lap. “That’s what I found. Tell me what you want me to do with it.”

I stared down at the photo. One photo. One damn picture. One moment that changed everything.

Tray and I. Naked. Me on top of him, riding him. Thankfully you didn’t see much where body parts were concerned but if my dad saw this, he would know that it was both Tray and me, and he would know exactly what we were doing.

“Whatever is going through your head right now, you are worth it.” I crumpled up the picture and tossed it on the floor. “That picture means nothing.”

“No? There could be more of them. Someone’s been following me. Someone took pictures of Catch and me. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I need to know that you’re in this with me. That—”

“I’m yours, Tray.” My head whipped around when he let out a grunt. “Don’t believe me. I don’t give a shit.” I huffed. “I’ll fight my dad for you,” I added on a whisper, my eyes burning over him shutting me out. I wasn’t a kid. I was a woman. I was young but still a woman. Clearly, I was old enough for him to fuck me. I couldn’t believe him.

The vehicle came to a sudden stop.

“Tray?” Confusion coursed through me.

He didn’t say anything but left the vehicle and came around to my side. Opening the door, he reached in and unbuckled my belt before pulling me free from the SUV.

“Tray.” I slapped my hands against his chest, struggling against him. “What are you doing?”

“I need you to hear me.” He released me and started pacing back and forth. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what this is but I know that I need you. I can’t do this without you. The way you look at me. The way you need me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Was to be needed by someone. But it also scares the shit out of me. My father was a bastard. He had a temper and that same temper runs through me. I can’t hurt you. I refuse to hurt you.”

“Hey.” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm, and pulling him against me. “You would never hurt me.” I wrapped myself around him, snuggling my face into his chest.

“I can’t hurt you,” he repeated, his voice shaky.

“Tray.” I leaned back, swallowing hard at the dark look of pure hard rage in his eyes.

“I want to kill them. Whoever took those pictures of you. I don’t give a shit that I’m in them. But the fact that you are makes me want to commit murder.” His jaw clenched, his hold on my shoulders tightening. “We’ve tried to be good. Keep our club clean. Hell, we even went to an animal shelter and played with the cats and dogs.”

“You mentioned that. Did you have fun?” I asked, imagining Tray sitting on the floor with kittens and puppies loving all over him.

“We did.” Tray cupped my face, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“I need you to talk to me. I need to know what’s going on. I don’t give a shit if you’re trying to protect me. I need to know.”

He nodded, leaning his forehead against mine. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“I could ask the same question. You’re the only man I would ever fight my father for.”

Tray curled his fingers in my hair and tugged my head back. “I don’t want you to have to choose but I hope with everything in me that your dad has nothing to do with this.”

“If he does?” I swallowed hard.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that question.”

“Tell me.” I ran my hands down his arms. “What will you do if you find out my dad has a hand in this?”

Tray searched my face. “I’ll kill him.”

 

(Tray)

 

My sanity was bordering on non-existent. I had always been a laid-back kind of guy for the most part. Greyson had been known as the hothead in the club. But I always had a fear that one day I would just snap thanks to the blood from my father running through me. He was never abusive to my mother. No, instead it was all laid on me.

“Your dad loved you.”

My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to argue with my mother while she was on her deathbed but the words leaving her lips were lies. Every syllable. Every single part of it. Was a lie.

“I know you don’t believe me and I know he was … tough.”

I grunted. “Mama, don’t worry about that shi—stuff. You need to rest.” She didn’t need any more stress than what already laid on her shoulders.

“It was my fault, you know.” Her breath hitched. “It was my fault he treated you that way.”

“No.” I kissed her hand. “None of it was your fault.”

“It was.” She looked away. “It was,” she added on a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for loving you so much that my husband became jealous over it.”

I needed a damn smoke.

We had driven most of the way to the clubhouse in unnerving silence. Something changed. And I wasn’t sure if it was for the better or for the worse.

When I pulled the SUV into the long driveway leading up to the large house, I cut the engine and paused before turning to Zillah.

She stared out the window. Although it was still dark out, I could see the bags beneath her eyes. After my moment earlier, I had grumbled a sorry and headed back to the vehicle like a damn pussy.

Zillah said she would fight her father for me. I had heard the words but how come I couldn’t believe them?

“Let’s get this shit over with,” I grumbled and left the vehicle. Greyson was going to kick my ass.

“You’re fucking right I am.”

I bristled, my head popping up at Greyson coming toward me. I didn’t even realize I had spoken out loud.

“You better have a damn good excuse for why she’s here.” He glanced at his phone. “At five in the morning. If you wake up Eve and Jaron …”

“That won’t happen,” I said as Zillah slowly exited the SUV.

“Um, sorry.” She walked toward us. “I’m Zillah Wolf,” she said softly, holding out her hand to Greyson.

He passed a glance from her hand to me, then back to her hand. “You’re lucky my wife has taught me to be polite.” He returned her handshake. “Greyson Mercer.”

She nodded. “I know who you are.”

“You do?” he asked, passing me a quick glance.

“Not from Tray.” Zillah paused. “My dad talks about you from time to time. You’re well-respected among the bikers that go into his clubhouse. I’ve heard your name being tossed around more than a two-dollar hooker.”

I bit back a chuckle.

Greyson rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t even know what to say to that.”

Zillah shrugged. “Listen, I know you’re wary of me because of who my dad is but that has nothing to do with me. Trust me, he’s kept me out of the biker world my whole life. I’m the only female who hasn’t been …” Her cheeks reddened. “Well, you know.”

She was untouched. This whole time. Until me.

Greyson glanced my way.

I cleared my throat.

“Greyson?”

All of us turned and found Eve standing at the foot of the stairs. “What’s going on?” she asked, letting out a hard yawn.

He went up to her and cupped her face. “What are you doing up?”

“You weren’t beside me and Jaron was crying so I went to check on him. He was asleep before I got to his room.” She looked our way. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing yet.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her to his side. “Eve, this is Zillah. Zillah, this is my wife, Eve. Now that I’ve met my quota of being nice for the year, Eve will you take Zillah inside so I can kick my brother’s ass? Thanks.” He released her hand and closed the distance between us before I knew what was going on. He gripped the collar of my jacket, lifting me onto my tippy-toes. I was man enough to admit it. Greyson Mercer made me fucking nervous.

“Um, yeah. I’ll get Catch. Come on, Zillah.”

I heard Eve take my girl inside. I heard Zillah ask what the hell was happening but it didn’t mean I could do anything about it. Greyson stared at me, his deep-blue eyes piercing into mine. Judgment. Anger. Fury.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doing,” he growled, his nose inches from mine.

“We’ve already had this conversation.” I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing but I wanted it that way. Zillah was unpredictable and I found that I needed it.

“Tray, what the hell are you doing? Is she worth it? Is all of this worth it? You brought the daughter of one of the most notorious bikers we know to our home. To my home. Hell, Shadow started Mayhem’s Revenge and should be retiring soon but that doesn’t make him any less lethal. If anything, it makes him worse.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you want from me.”

“I want you to use your damn head instead of thinking with your dick, Tray. Before her, you never would have done this shit. Why? Do you have some fucking oats to sow or some shit? Besides the fact she’s much younger than you, she’s the daughter of Shadow. Fucking Shadow, Tray.”

“Someone sent me this.” I shoved the picture of Zillah and I against his chest. I had picked it up after she tossed it on the floor of the SUV. As much as I didn’t like another man seeing us, her, that way, I needed Greyson with me on this. I needed my brother. My family. The only family I had since my mom had passed so many years ago.

“Shit.” He released me and took a step back.

“I like her. I like her a lot. It’s not because I’m trying to rebel. I didn’t know she was Shadow’s daughter. Not at first. She’s different than the others. Than …”

Greyson looked my way when my voice trailed off. “Than Catch?”

I nodded.

“He deserves so much better than this. Than us.” He chuckled. “Fuck. I have no idea why he wanted us in the first place.”

“Hell if I know.” I shrugged. “Listen, I didn’t mean to bring this shit on your doorstep, but I need you. All of you.”

“I need you too. Not just for this.” He waved a hand out in front of him. “But all of this. Why the hell do you think I’ve kept you by my side for all these years? Even though you’re fucking stubborn and won’t officially patch in, I still consider you a member of Hell’s Harlem. Maybe that’s against the rules or whatever, but Demitry likes you too. We all do. We need you.”

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at Greyson’s honesty. He wasn’t a man of many words but when he did speak, they cut, and they cut deep.

“You’re not used to this. Are you?”

I glanced up at Greyson’s question. “What do you mean?”

He walked to the bench a few feet away and sat. Patting the empty spot beside him, he waited. And like a good little boy, I sat beside him.

“Before I met Eve, I never thought I would love again. I also don’t know how you guys put up with my shit half the time but I want to thank you.”

“Greyson.”

“No, listen to me. These guys, all of you, I couldn’t do this without you. Your support. Fuck.” He shook his head. “And when I almost lost Eve, you guys had my back without me even having to ask for it. I can’t repay you for that but know that I appreciate it. More than I can ever say.” It had been over a year since Eve was kidnapped and taken by a man who had claimed to be her husband. When it all came out that she was never actually married to him, it made it easier for her to move on. But I knew that it still bothered Greyson. He had become more protective since, always keeping a close eye on her and their son. We all had. Even without him asking it of us.

“She’s family,” I added, stretching my legs out in front of me. “You never have to ask us to look out for what’s yours. You would do the same for us.”

He nodded, his jaw clenching. “I just wish Butcher would realize that and come home.”

My throat constricted. We missed him.

“Are you ever going to patch in?” Greyson asked me, changing the subject.

I wanted to, but I still felt like I didn’t deserve it. “You know you have me for life, Grey,” I said instead.

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to do about the picture?” I was ready to kill the fucker who took the photo and then go back to the source that had ordered it be done in the first place and kill them too.

“We’ll deal with this shit later today.” Greyson stood from the bench. “Right now, I need my wife.”

 

(Zillah)

 

“So how did you and Tray meet?” the woman, Eve, asked me while handing me a bottle of water from the fridge behind the bar.

“Thank you.” I took the water and sat on the stool. “He came into my dad’s shop and I bumped into him. He asked me out on a date and the rest is … well …” My cheeks burned.

Eve smiled, leaning against the counter across from me. “He’s a good guy. I’m glad he’s found someone.” Something flashed behind her eyes, but before I could question it, it disappeared.

“How did you meet Greyson?” I asked her, taking a sip of the water.

“I passed out in his arms.” She laughed and put her long, brown hair up into a messy bun. “I was actually running in the woods with no memory of what had happened to me. I showed up here. Passed out in his arms, and the rest is history.” She winked.

“Wow. You don’t remember? Anything at all?”

“No.” She gave me a soft smile. “I actually don’t remember much of anything from my life before showing up here but maybe that’s for the better. It’s like my life started over when I met him. As difficult as he can be, I love that man.”

“Why the hell is everyone up so damn early?”

My back stiffened as a man came into the room. The guy was young. With light-brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a dark shadow of scruff on his jaw, he was absolutely breathtaking. He wasn’t Tray by any means but I bet the guy had women or even men, throwing their undergarments at his feet.

“Checking me out, beautiful?” the guy asked, raising an eyebrow.

I coughed, my cheeks burning.

“Leave her alone, Catch,” Eve chided, smacking his arm. “This is Zillah.

“You’re the woman …” His eyes roamed down the length of me. “I stand corrected. Girl.”

My heart thumped. “You’re the douche I talked to on the phone.” So he was the guy. Tray’s best friend. Tray’s … fling.

Catch’s full lips pulled into a sly grin. “Eve, where is everyone?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of me.

“Uh, Greyson and Tray are outside. Psycho went home, saying something about going to the shelter later today. Some of the other guys are here and everyone else left.” Eve stepped in front of him, pushing him back. “Don’t be a dick.”

He chuckled, finally averting his gaze from mine and kissed the top of her head. “You didn’t happen to make coffee, did you?”

“Of course I did. For guys who claim you don’t drink the stuff, you sure go through a lot of coffee.”

“We do but you drink it just as much as the rest of us.” Catch met my gaze again. “You drink coffee?”

I nodded.

“How do you take it?”

“Black but if the coffee’s old, I’ll throw in a little sugar and maybe milk if it’s that shitty.”

“I do the same.” He jutted his chin. “Do you like horror movies?”

“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?” I shifted on the stool.

“Catch, what are you doing?” Eve handed him a mug and placed one in front of me.

“Just making conversation.” He moved to the empty spot beside me. “So, do you?”

“Yeah. I do.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at. Was he giving me a hard time because I was sleeping with Tray?

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He took a sip of the coffee, his light blue eyes, unblinking and focused, staring right into my soul.

“The original Evil Dead,” I answered.

He paused. “That’s Tray’s favorite too.”

I cleared my throat, looking away. “It is.”

“Why are you asking the poor girl all of these questions?” Eve placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m just trying to get to know the girl who’s fucking my best friend.”

I coughed, my head whipping around. “Seriously? Are you always this much of an asshole?”

Something flashed behind his eyes. He stood, his face impassive. No emotion showed in his eyes. He didn’t react to my question at all. I realized then that this man was past the point of being broken. He was a shell. I felt bad for him but even worse for the next person who faced his wrath.

Catch left the room, leaving me alone with Eve.

“Uh, I’ve never seen him like that before.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I stared after him, wondering what the hell just happened.