Rox (Nameless Order: Heart Chapter #1)

2. Mimic

Two

Mimic

“ A re you seriously not over that yet?” Omen asks incredulously, his eyes trained on Prez. I keep my eyes down on the cards in my hand, listening intently. Nothing I can say will add anything of substance to the situation. The last thing Dizz wants is my opinion on his kid. But she’s not a kid. Not even close.

“This isn’t something you just get over, Omen. She’s the one setting an example for all her siblings to follow. It doesn’t help at all when she won’t listen when you propose a fallback plan for her career choices.” Prez tosses his cards down in frustration. I am not sure if it’s at his hand or the conversation not going his way.

“It’s not a proposition. She should get a business degree if she wants to run a business or be a business owner. I am with you on this, Prez.” Angel takes a big drag of the stogie, blowing out the smoke in rings as he leans back in his chair.

“Can we just talk about something else? Cause he is going to stew on this and bring down the mood. She’s an adult Prez. It’s time to cut the cord.” Duck says, shuffling his cards.

“You guys don’t get it. You didn’t watch her grow from this timid thing. I want her to have everything she could possibly want in life,” he says, sounding defeated.

“Isn’t her being happy more important?” Ink asks before chugging his beer and letting out a massive belch.

I toss my cards down and watch as another debate starts about Prez and Angel and how they are trying to make his daughter see reason. When I first came here, I thought it was odd how Angel parents Rox as much as Dizz and Meg do. It went as far as me thinking they were in a weird throuple arrangement. When I finally got up the balls to ask, thankfully, they only laughed in my face as I was informed about Angel’s history with Rox. It’s dark and twisted, but I understand Angel’s concern when it comes to her.

However, it doesn’t change anything. She’s already following her heart. From what I’ve been told, she’s known what she’s wanted to do for years. This isn’t something she decided on on a whim. I want to come to her rescue and defend her choices. I want a lot more than that.

I listen to what they have to say. They’re reasons for this and that, but none of it means shit to me. None of them matter. I want whatever she wants. I have from the moment I laid eyes on her. I met her when she was eighteen. She’d been eighteen for a while, and while that should have deterred me from her, it didn’t. My mind doesn’t care about the years between us. I only care about her. She is a strong, beautiful woman who has been determined to get what she wants. She hasn’t slowed down since.

I’ve seen what she can do. Her legs are covered in her own work. Instead of using fake skin sheets, she used herself. Not only has she honed her skills, but she also has a great tolerance for pain—which is something my depraved mind enjoys.

Since I came around, she’s wanted to take her already existing talent and turn it into something better. She wants to continue to learn and grow, and she wants to do that under someone she trusts. She knew if she were an apprentice for Angel, she would be taught, taken care of, and respected.

Angel has become one of the top artists on the East Coast. He only opens his books twice a year and every time, they fill within forty-eight hours. He is the best, and she deserves to learn from the best. But as of today, she is in some second-rate shop, learning under a man who needs to be neutered like the dog he is. Her father is very clearly worried about her, but in my opinion, he’s worried about the wrong things. I see what she’s doing. Who she’s around. I don’t like it.

They continue to go back and forth. Some try to defend her but still be on Prez’s side. All of them are doing their best to kiss his ass.

“She’s working at some low-life now because of you two,” I snap. The back and forth immediately stops, and all sets of eyes are now on me. Whelp, there goes my plan of not saying shit. Oh well, what the fuck ever.

“You wanna say that again?”

Dizz is pissed. I can see the anger simmering right beneath the surface. He’s attempting to hold back his rage, but the twitch in his eye and his locked jaw tells me he isn’t as in control as he wants to be.

“I said, she’s working there because of you two. You both act like she needs more than what she wants. That she needs more than what you have, she’s been attempting to be an artist for years. Long before most of us showed up here, this isn’t something she’s randomly decided on. We all saw her when she asked to apprentice under Angel. She came prepared with not only the art she’s done on her own damn legs but the art she’s been drawing for years.

She came prepared with so much, and you both told her no. That she needs to do something she doesn’t want to do before you’d even think about it. All because she needs to have a fallback plan? What’s yours? Hmm. What’s Angels? She can easily be as successful as Angel is. Yet you both shot her down over a bullshit degree.

And yeah, I’m gonna confidently fucking say it’s bullshit because not a single mother fucker in this room has a piece of paper that declares we’re worth something. So yeah, imma fuckin’ stand by that this is y’alls fault. Do you even know how shitty of a shop she’s in now? How fucked the guys who work there are?”

“How the fuck would you know, Mimic?” Angel asks as he slams his fist on the table. I look at him, then back to Dizz before I take a look around the table. I’ve laid out my cards and not the ones in my hand. I need to turn this around before any of them realize the truth.

“Because I give a fuck about her and her siblings. I make sure they’re safe. That’s my fucking job here. And by the looks of it, I don’t think she is. But you know what? She won’t fucking leave, and you know why? Because of you two.”

I throw my cards onto the table, revealing that I have the winning hand, and storm off. Dizz yells out something, but I don’t listen. I don’t care. He can drag my ass to the ring later to tell me all about how I shouldn’t disrespect him. Whatever.

I’ve been obsessed with Rox from the moment I met her. I’ve watched where she goes and who she’s with. I know her likes, her dislikes, and her dreams. All without her having to tell me. I pay attention when she’s in the room. As I leave the basement, I see Meg sitting on the stairs.

“How much did you hear?” I ask her.

She gives me a faint smile before standing up. She’s a tiny little thing who has been through so much, but she’s tough as shit. “Enough.” She places her hand on my shoulder, “Thank you for caring about her. He needed someone other than me to tell him what’s going on. I appreciate you standing up for her.”

I only smile and let her know it’s not a big deal. I’d easily give myself away to Meg. I also wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew. She’s smart. She pays attention. But I’m trying. I’m working on keeping what I feel locked inside. I can’t do anything about it. Not right now. She’s consumed every fiber of my soul, but I can’t have her. She’s the Prez’s daughter. That’s supposed to make her off-limits.

But I don’t know how much longer my head will listen.

* * *

I’m just outside of the light from the street lamps. I watch as she stands on a rickety step ladder, attempting to clean the windows. She’s just too short to reach. Every bone in my body tells me to rush to her aide and help her before she hurts herself. But I know if I leave my hiding spot, she won’t get the respect she is trying to gain here.

I clench my teeth and hug my arms across my chest tighter as the ladder starts to wobble. She catches herself on the window she just finished cleaning, and now there is a huge streak. Before she has a chance to reclean it, a tall, string bean of a “man” storms over to her and starts yelling and shaking the ladder. Rox’s arms are animated while she gives it back to him as hard as he is giving it to her.

“That’s my girl,” the words escape my lips before I can overthink them. Because in my mind, she is my girl, and I will always be here to protect her.

They continue to fight before the poor excuse for a man takes her bucket and dumps it all over the floor, and points at it. The message is clear that she is to clean it up. I start mumbling for her not to give in because she is better than this job. Better than what they are putting her through. For the past three days, I have been here, watching her through the large picture window, cleaning, and setting up. Taking phone calls and trying to build relationships with clients. But every time she seemed to be making progress, he was quick to beat her back down.

I don’t know why he acts the way he does toward her. I noticed he only goes to these extremes when the owner isn’t around, which is always, or the manager. I’m not sure if his hatred is because she’s a woman or something else. I’m determined to find out. Every bone in my body wants to defend her and make him pay for the way he treats her. But I know I need to give her time to do this her way. She’s doing this for a reason, and I can’t be the reason she fails. I’d never forgive myself.

But it doesn’t change the fact that she needs more than this. Rox needs someone who is going to nurture and cherish her natural talent. This guy is just looking for a whipping boy while she is taking it. Being a lot more patient than I ever would be at this point in time, she is doing what she needs to do before he will teach her because this means so much to her. So much so that there is an actual family rift forming because she is just as stubborn as her father. Prez means well, but he is getting too caught up in the what if and not the now.

If he lived in the now, he would see the art she has hung everywhere, the tattoos on her legs that are amazing for someone with no formal training. If he stopped and actually saw, he would see that she was in her element, and she and Angel would be the best artistic duo out there. I want all of her dreams to come true. I will do everything I can to make sure they can be achieved by her. Even if she isn’t truly mine, her happiness is.

I take a cigarette from my back pocket and light it up. It’s dark out, so the only thing visible after I light it is the cherry with every drag I take. She’ll be getting ready to pack up and leave for her car. I know my self-appointed job for the night is almost over. I will follow her home and then take my leave back to the clubhouse on the property. I have created this new routine, and it revolves around more than the club. It revolves around the woman I am quickly losing myself over.

I can only hide it under the guise of protection for so long. I can’t keep justifying surveillance to Prez or Omen, his VP, the longer she stays here and isn’t in any immediate danger. Dizz doesn’t seem to realize what I’m doing, but Omen looks at me as if he sees the truth. One I’m not sure if I can hide much longer.

I want Rox. She’s mine. I’ve felt this way from the moment I met her.

I watch her as she picks up the bucket and heads inside. She’s back out a moment later, folding up the ladder and taking that in as well. It isn’t long after that needle dick leaves, and once she watches his car drive off, I can see her visibly relax from where I stand. I want more than anything to go up to her and make her forget about everything she had to deal with today with him. I want her to take out all of her frustration on me, but I’ll never get to have that.

She continues to clean the shop when, all of a sudden, she stops. I stand up from my perch against the wall as she turns to face out the window. Her eyes connect with mine immediately. Or they would if she could actually see me. She feels me. She knows I’m here. She gives a small smile before she runs her hand through her hair and shakes her head. It’s not much longer after the moment we shared that she leaves.

I can still feel her gaze on me. Her beautiful eyes lock me in so easily. It’s a wonder she hasn’t even caught on to how obsessed I am. Try as I might, I can’t take my eyes off of her when she walks into the same room as me. Anytime I have to review security footage, if she shows up, I take even longer because I’m entrapped by her beauty. When she doesn’t think anyone is watching, when she’s at her most vulnerable, that’s when she’s the most beautiful. It comes so naturally to her, and she doesn’t even notice it.

“Rox,” I whisper to the wind. I wish so badly that my voice would travel to her ears and she’d know for sure I’m here. She’d know I’m watching over her, keeping her safe. She’d be happy to learn how I feel. She’d want me back. But she doesn’t. There’s no way she would. She doesn’t know me, not really. None of them do.

I’m the ghost of multiple people. My life giving me one name after another. The one I was born with long gone and forgotten. No one knows the truth about who I am, where I’m from, or what I can do. But I want her to know. I would tell her anything. Nothing would be a secret from her.

Dizz wasn’t sure about me when I showed up. I couldn’t give him the answers he wanted. His past didn’t allow him to trust easily. But I was determined. I wanted him to see that I was nothing but loyal and someone good.

I’ve done a lot of fucked up things in my past lives, but I know for a fact so has he. We share that similarity. He looked past the pasts I kept hidden, and I gave him my current life in return. But this life, I know I’ll lose it if I were to take what I really wanted from it. Rox. His daughter. His reason for being. I would lose everything I have, everything I was, and everything I could have with her if he found out.

It’s an unwritten rule—don’t fuck the president’s daughter. It’s a rule I don’t want to follow. One that I definitely don’t follow in my dreams.

Mounting my bike, I turn out onto the road to follow her home after she’s gotten to the corner of the street the shop sits on. I’m sure she knows it’s someone from the MC if she sees a bike behind her, but I want her to know it’s me. I want her to smile to herself simply because it’s me. Not because it’s anyone from the club.

I know I could fix this. I could make it known…what I feel. I could be honest with her. But I can’t. Not really. Not because of her father. Fact is, at the end of the day, I don’t give two shits about her dad. He should keep me away from her, but he doesn’t. Am I signing my own death certificate? Yes. Do I care? No. Would I do it a million times over if it gave me Rox? Again, yes. The reason I don’t do what I want is because of her. I wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection from her. I don’t know for a fact if she feels the same way.

And that is what scares me the most.