Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MARLEY
All the times I’d driven past the Devil’s Riot MC clubhouse, I never thought I’d actually be stepping into it. Not until Griz came into my life.
Sure, Griz said I was coming here for a party on Friday, but that was at the end of the week. I thought I’d have time to get used to the idea of being here around so many people I didn’t know.
Instead, I’m freaking out on the inside, and I don’t know why. I’ve never been the nervous type. I’ve been around bikers before. Even loads of rough around the edges’ men. I grew up with a man like my dad. I shouldn’t be in the least bit freaked, yet I am since I’m essentially meeting Griz’s family for the first time.
Over the weekend, during one of the breaks of our marathon sex, Griz and I were cuddling while he told me that the club was his family, them and his dad. His mom died years ago. His dad was still around, though he’s been out of town for the past two months, having decided to go riding coast to coast.
“Don’t get out,” Griz orders after parking the truck. He quickly gets out and slams the door shut behind him.
I watch him as he rounds the hood and comes to my side. I barely get my seatbelt off before he’s there, the door open, one arm beneath my knees, the other behind my back. Griz scoops me out of the truck with such ease, it doesn’t jar me in the least bit.
“Once we get you inside, we’ll get you cleaned up and into bed,” he murmurs, making his way to the front door. “I’ve got one of my brothers stopping in town to get something from the diner for you.”
“Bacon cheese fries, I hope.” If there was any time for loaded cheese fries, now would be it. It’s comfort food and so good.
“Told him to get your usual and two of today’s special. Before you ask, I don’t know what it is.”
It didn’t matter what the special was, I knew it would be good. The diner always has great food.
Relaxing into Griz, I close my eyes as we approach the clubhouse. I don’t know who all will be in there, but having seen so many of Griz’s brothers at the scene of the wreck, I’m not sure how many more there are. It’s something I hadn’t asked Griz about.
“Hey, Griz,” a woman calls out the instant we step inside. “Blow called and said you were on the way. He said you might need some stuff for your woman. I put it on your bed. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Thanks, Storm, appreciate it,” Griz grunts.
Opening my eyes just enough, I’m surprised to see the woman who he called Storm. I’d seen her around town a few times. Off to the side of the room, there were several other women, all dressed scantily, where Storm was dressed in jeans and a white fitted tee with the Devil’s Riot MC logo across the front, emphasizing her breasts.
Storm’s eyes meet mine, and she gives me a smile that isn’t fake in the least. “Hey, Marley, I’m Storm, Blow’s ol’ lady. If you need anything, let me know. What I put in Griz’s room was a pair of fresh leggings, and by that, I mean new panties and a bra, as well as a tank top. There’s also some girly soap so you don’t have to use Griz’s. Blow had said you and I looked about the same size. I guess he was right.”
“Thank you,” I utter, unsure what to think about the woman. She’s young yet seems like she would be an incredibly sweet person.
“No problem.” Nodding, she looks to Griz. “I’ll be in the kitchen getting the boys’ dinner together if you need me for anything. They’re napping, so I need to get on that before they get up and I’ve got my hands full.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know it.” Griz snorts and walks past her, making her laugh.
I close my eyes as he keeps going. I didn’t have it in me to look around or to pay attention to the scantily clad women. I make a mental note to ask Griz about them later. Right now, I am too exhausted. My body was screaming at me. My head hurts. I want a shower. Then I want to climb into a bed and just go to sleep.
Well, I want to eat something before I do that. Maybe take something for the aches and pains.
Griz stops us a few minutes later, jostles me slightly as he opens a door and steps through, closing the door behind him. “You’ve got a choice, sweets, we can shower first, get you clean, or we can make that phone call. You pick.”
“Shower.” There was no picking to it. I smelled like smoke and blood.
Something had hit me in the middle of my car exploding. The paramedic had cleaned a wound at my hairline along with the rest of the road rash that could be seen. I could feel a few other spots I hadn’t let them look at. My back was scraped up. My bottom hurt. Those places I didn’t let them exam.
“You got it, baby,” Griz murmurs, carrying me across the room through another door to the bathroom.
“This is nice.” I thought he might have had to share a bathroom with a bunch of others, instead it was attached to his room.
“We all have our own bathrooms. The brothers, that is. The fallen harlots all share one, though.”
“Fallen harlots?”
“It’s what we call the women who stay here for . . . ugh, best way to say it is they’re here to fuck and give it up whenever their services are wanted.”
“So, they are whores,” I note.
“Yep.”
Interesting.
“Have you?—”
“Sweets, since meetin’ you, I ain’t been with anyone. Doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked my share of women. Those bitches out there, they’re nothing but a hole to stick a dick in.”
“That’s comforting.” Not really. I believe him when he says he hasn’t been with anyone.
“Come on, sweets.” He sets me on my feet and starts the shower before helping me out of my clothes. By that, I mean he rips my shirt the rest of the way off me. As for my pants, he’s far more gentle with them. The thong I’d put on was nothing but a slit of fabric which he tears right off. My bra has a front clasp he unclips and helps me out of.
Griz makes quick work of his own clothes and hangs his cut on the back of the door. Taking my hand in his, he guides me into the shower stall. It’s not overly big, but it was just enough room for the both of us to fit. Granted, our chests are flush against each other. Still, Griz makes it work. He takes the time to wash my hair, taking care not to touch where I am hurt. My back is another story altogether.
Same with my bottom.
He doesn’t say anything, but there’s no missing the tightening of his lips.
By the time he is done making sure I am clean, I am not only exhausted but so turned on that I am ready to beg him to fuck me.
Griz must read my mind because his fingers slide between my thighs, and two fingers slip right inside. He moves them in and out, driving me closer to release. Panting, I hold onto him. His free hand comes up, fingers gripping my chin, lifts my head until he’s able to capture my lips. Kissing me with all the hunger I feel for him.
The orgasm that washes over me is all-consuming. Beautifully amazing. I love it.
By the time Griz’s fingers slide out, I’m drained. Still, I want to give him what he just gifted me. Unfortunately, Griz catches my wrist before I’m able to wrap my fingers around him, stopping me.
“This is all about you, baby, not me.” Pressing one last kiss to my lips, he shuts the water off.
“What if I wanted?—”
“Marley, sweets, you don’t gotta do anything right now. This was about you, baby. Later, when you’re not hurt, we’ll have our fun.”
Nodding, I step out before he does and grab a towel. I barely have my hair wrapped in it before I feel Griz behind me, wrapping another towel around my body.
“Fuck, Marley, your back is torn up.”
I can feel it.
And I did.
It hurt.
“We need to put some ointment on your back to keep it from getting infected.”
“It’ll be okay.” I didn’t want anything put on my back. “It just needs to air out.”
“Marley.”
I whirl around to face Griz and shake my head.“No, Griz, seriously, I don’t want anything put on it. It’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” Griz grumbles and nods curtly. “Come on, you can put on one of my shirts. It’ll be looser on you more than anything Storm left on my bed for you.”
“I’d prefer one of your shirts as well.” As sweet as it was of Storm, I’m not a big fan of wearing other people’s clothes. There’s nothing wrong with it, I guess you could say it’s just me. I’m a weirdo about my clothes, I suppose.
Okay, so it’s not that I won’t wear other people’s clothes, it’s more I don’t like wearing clothes that belong to strangers. Griz isn’t a stranger to me.
Griz takes my hand and pulls me into his room, lets me go in, opens a drawer, and grabs the first tee on top.Turning to me, he helps me into the shirt before finally dressing himself.
While he’s doing this, I look over the stuff that Storm left for me. New toothbrush. New hairbrush. Unopened hair products, expensive products at that. There are even some hair ties and lotion. As Storm mentioned there was a brand-new pair of underwear for me. Thank God for that. I might wear thongs and whatnot, but I don’t do commando.
I grab the panties, remove that tag, and slide them up my legs. They’re cute black and white polka dot boy shorts that fit perfectly. The little bow at the front makes them even cuter.
Griz gathers the rest of the stuff Storm left for me and puts it on top of his dresser. Turning to me, he jerks his head to the bed. “Hop in, sweets.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I climb onto the bed and snuggle up under his fleece blanket. He didn’t have a comforter like I did. Just solid gray sheets with a red and black fleece flannel-looking blanket, best of all, it was soft. I love a soft fleece blanket. I have a whole collection of different ones I trade out on my couch every so often. Even better, as I lay back against the pillows, I find he didn’t have cheap flat pillows. They were super comfortable.
Griz climbs in next to me, hand gliding up and down my side. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“Someone tried to kill you today.” I didn’t need the reminder, but I don’t think that’s his intention.
“I know.”
“I could have lost you.” Griz’s voice takes on a ragged tone that clenches at my heart. “I just got you in my life, and I could have lost you. Just like that.”
“I’m right here. Safe and whole.”
“Yeah.” His fingers curl around my hip beneath the shirt. My heart lurches at the emotions blooming inside me.
“I need to brush my hair,” I tell him, changing the subject.
“I’ll do it for you. Food should be here soon. After that, you can either rest or make that phone call to your dad.”
“I better make that call before eating. I think after I eat, I might just pass out. It’s been a long day. Not including the explosion. I already had a stressful day dealing with jerks who don’t know the meaning of ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’.”
“Wanna elaborate?” Griz asks, cocking a brow.
Sighing, I shake my head. “Not really. It’s a typical day in the land of being a process server. Some days are better than others.”
“So, not only did you have to deal with prick assholes today, but you also have to deal with this shit,” Griz notes.
“Yep.” I nod as someone knocks at the door.
“Yeah,” Griz shouts.
The door opens marginally. “Cops are here to talk to Marley, and food’s here.”
“Thanks, Shiner, we’ll be right out,” Griz mutters and looks at me. “Guess while you talk to the cops, you can eat so it doesn’t get cold on you.”
“Great.”
The last thing I want to do is talk to cops right now. I made friends with some of them in passing, thanks to my job, but I wasn’t really looking forward to being questioned about why my car exploded or who could potentially be behind it.
Plus, I still needed to call my dad before it was too late to make the call.
Griz scoops me out of the bed, sets me on my feet, moves to the dresser, and grabs the leggings. “Not about to let you walk out there in only my tee,” he says and hands me the leggings to me. I didn’t want to put them on, but I also didn’t want to be in a room full of men with nothing more than a shirt and panties.
Gingerly, I pull them on while Griz pulls a hoodie for me out of his closet. He comes to me and helps me pull it on over the shirt. Lastly, Griz takes care of brushing my hair out for me and gives me a pair of thick socks. I didn’t want to put my heeled boots back on. They wouldn’t go well with what I was wearing.
Once I’m ready to go, Griz guides me out of the room, taking me back in the direction he carried me through earlier.
Inwardly sighing to myself, I push back the fear wanting to take hold of me. Now isn’t the time to breakdown. Not when I’m about to have to answer a million questions. None of which I want to answer. I don’t know who it was that tried to blow me up. Nor do I know who broke into my house. What I’m sure of, though, is they have to be connected. They have to be. Nothing else makes sense to me.
It’s strange, though, thinking on it now, whoever it was, they wanted me to get out. Weeks ago, I’d forgotten about it, but I’d found a stupid note on my windshield outside the courthouse. The note said I needed to watch my back. I thought it was some bullshit someone trying to freak me out. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to do that. What if that was connected to this as well?
All three events have to be connected, but who in town would want to scare me off or even kill me? What if it were the person who stalked my mom?