13. Lissie
Chapter 13
Lissie
“To get a job?”
L etti has been amazing. She’s made me feel welcome and not so much like a victim the way I’ve felt for the last few years. It’s nice to have someone check on you to see that you are okay. And the kicker? They want nothing in return.
That feeling is so unlike anything I’ve known.
“I think I need a job. I need to…” I let the words rush out so quickly my brain can’t finish the thought. “I can’t stay here and expect you to support me.”
“It’s only been two weeks, Lissie. You haven’t asked for anything; you cook, you clean. Hell, you can live here as long as you want. It saves me from doing everything.” She laughs. “But for real, I appreciate what you’ve been doing.”
How weird and funny is it that she appreciates me for cleaning and cooking for her? The first three days I was here, I stayed locked in her spare room, just lying there, wondering what I was going to do. I snuck out and stole some bread on the second day. On the third, she was waiting for me. She offered me food, and I sat with her in silence as we ate. She never pressured me to talk to her or to tell her what happened.
I told her on the fourth day.
That day, she came home with more food.
The day after that, I cooked and cleaned while she was out working.
“I’ve never really had anyone before, apart from Cody. So I’m not really sure what to say or do, but I want a job,” I tell her.
“Okay, let’s find you one. What experience do you have so we know where to look first?”
I sit back on the stool in her kitchen and stare at her. How do I tell her? My only job has been reading to the president of the motorcycle club, which I’m not sure she knows about. Actually, I’m not sure anyone knows that I read to him. They know that I work for him, but maybe they think I’m in there fucking him.
“Do you think I’m a whore?” I ask.
Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head. “Oh my God, no. Why would you say that?”
“You know I see Milo. What do you think I do for him?”
She bites her lip as her gaze darts around the room and then finally comes back to me. “To be honest, we never really asked. For the simple fact that it’s Milo.” She shrugs.
“Did you think I was sleeping with him?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re married.”
“Married people cheat on their spouses all the time,” I tell her.
“But not you,” she says, and I nod. “Look, we all know what an ass Cody is. Everyone knew he was lucky to have you…” She pauses. “I can ask the club about a job,” she offers. “Morris is my brother. I’m sure he’ll know if there’s something you could help out with.”
Just as she finishes, a knock comes on the door. I freeze as she stands. Without a second thought, she walks to the door and pulls it open. Morris stands there with a bag of groceries that he hands her, and then his gaze lands on me and narrows.
“What’s Prez’s pet doing in your kitchen?” he asks Letti.
“Pet?” I say, baffled.
“Yes, that’s what you are. His pet.”
I turn away from him.
Pet .
Is this what my life has come to, being a man’s pet?
“That’s a mean thing to say, Morris. Apologize. Now ,” Letti scolds.
“She comes, they go into his room, they don’t fuck. And then she leaves. We all know she ain’t in his room cleaning.”
“How would you know that?” Letti asks, and a small piece of me feels better knowing she’s sticking up for me, even though she has no idea why I go and see him.
“Letti…” Morris starts.
“Don’t Letti me. Thanks for the food, but you can go now. Come back when you’re ready to speak to my friend with some respect.” She shuts the door in his face, and I smile brightly.
As a teenager, I always thought I had a backbone, but then I lost my mother. And then I was with Cody. And somehow, everything kind of shifted and changed along the way.
I want to be the same person I had hoped to be.
But I just don’t know how.
Milo is at the door later that day, and it takes me by surprise. I swing my head around to stare at him. He’s dressed in his leather and looking way too good.
“Letti,” Milo says, his gaze shifting to me where I sit on Letti’s couch. She was watching some reality TV show that she’s obsessed with, and I’m here for moral support.
“Elizabeth,” he says, using my full name. “A word, if you wouldn’t mind.”
I get up from the couch and move to stand in front of him. Just as I reach him, his hand shoots out and grabs my wrists. “How did you get these marks?” he growls. I look down to where the rope burns are etched into my skin. They are fully healed now, and only an angry red mark is left. How did he see that so quickly? I pull my hands away from his grasp and tuck them behind me.
“I’ll go to my room. Call out if you need me,” Letti says.
“She won’t need you,” Milo answers for me.
I stay where I am, blocking the doorway, not inviting him inside.
“Why are you not at home? And where is your husband?” he asks, his head tilting to the side.
“I left him.”
A slight smirk touches his lips before it’s replaced with a scowl, and he asks again, “How did you get the marks?” I look back down at my wrists.
“Know of any jobs available?” I ask, changing the subject. Why is it that I know Milo is way more dangerous than Cody, but I feel safer with him?
“A job?” he asks, surprised. His hands slide into his pockets, and he leans against the doorjamb. “You have a job. You work for me.”
“Okay, how much are you paying me? We need to renegotiate.” His lips fight a smirk. “Don’t laugh, I need things. I left with nothing,” I say angrily.
His smirk drops, and he steps in closer to me. “Come on, we can discuss this on the way.”
“What? Where?” I ask, afraid of leaving this nice safe haven I have created for myself.
“You need things, and we can discuss a job opportunity and new wages once I take you shopping.”
“I’m not going shopping with you.” I cross my arms over my chest. I mean, why would I? Does he think I’m a charity case? Because I’m not .
“Letti,” he calls out. Her door opens, and she steps out. “Helmet,” he demands, and I turn to look at her.
“He forgot to say please,” I say. She just smiles and walks back into her room. I feel his breath on my neck before he speaks.
“I will say please to one woman only.” I spin around to look at him. “Let’s go, or I’ll carry you again.”
Carry me? When did he… oh, to his bed the night I fell asleep outside the clubhouse. He nods and heads outside.
“Here you go,” Letti says, handing me a helmet. “I don’t wear it much, so it’s basically brand new.” I take it from her.
“Should I stay here? I should stay, right?” I ask, hoping she’ll say yes. I shouldn’t get on a bike with a man who is known for killing people.
“I think you should go,” she says. “If you’re comfortable with it.”
I am. I don’t feel like I’m in any danger around Milo.
Nodding my head, I carry the helmet out to where he’s waiting for me with his bike.
He is wearing his leather jacket and black jeans, and his hair is slicked back. Damn, he looks good. He would give Jax Teller a run for his money any day. Grabbing his helmet, he motions to the one in my hand. “Put it on.”
I stand there as he pulls his helmet on and straddles the bike.
He turns to me. “Do you need a hand getting on?”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t be getting on this thing,” I say. He leans the bike over so I don’t have to lift my leg too high, then shakes his head at my discomfort as I continue to stand there. Then he kicks his bike to a stand and gets off. I’m confused at first until he lifts me bridal style, being careful of where his hands are, and puts me on the back of the bike. I say nothing as he gets on, and I put my hands on his sides.
“Hands here.” He taps my hands and pulls them around to his front. “Hold on.”
I was never a fan of bikes growing up. Cody always said there was never any good that came from them, and who was I to argue with him?
The bike slows down as we near the shopping center, and as he comes to a stop, we both sit there for a moment.
“Don’t move.” His hand touches mine, where they rest on his stomach. He gives me a small squeeze before he pulls my hands away and gets off the bike. I sit there watching him as he removes his helmet. He then pulls mine off with ease before leaning down and lifting me up again.
People stare.
They always do when Milo is involved.
“I could have done that myself,” I tell him. Granted, I’ve never been on a bike before, but I’m sure I could get off easily enough if I tried.
“If you say so. Though you did look like a deer in headlights trying to work out how to sit on it without touching me,” he says with a raised brow.
“Why does your vest say President?” I ask, tapping the patch on his chest. When he turns around, his club’s logo is on the back of it.
He places both our helmets on the bike. No one in this town would be stupid enough to steal from anyone in the club. “What do you think it means?” he asks. He slips one hand into his pocket as we walk toward the shops. Parents pull their kids in a little tighter to their sides when they pass us, but Milo doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“I take it you don’t come to the shops often?” I say, looking around at everyone who forgot their manners today.
“No,” he answers, peering down at me.
“I think it means you run the club. But how?”
“You know it was my father’s club, yes?” I did know that much, but I always thought someone else would take over when the old man died. “When he died, it became mine.”
“Ohhh. Is that how it usually works?”
“No, but he made it clear to everyone that was how it was going to be, and everyone respected him.”
“Do they respect you?”
“You sure are asking a lot of questions today, Elizabeth.”
I shrug in response before asking, “Why are you taking me shopping?”
“You need things, and it’s payment for our next reading session.”
“So, you are going to pay me?”
The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk, and he locks eyes with me.
“I guess so.”
“Why would you offer to pay me?” I pressure him. We stop out front of a women’s shop, and he keeps those eyes pinned on me. “Cody gets that money, not me.”
“Well now you will get it and because I know pain. And even though pain likes to fester by itself, yours shouldn’t.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Why does this man think I’m worthy of his time when my husband thinks so low of me?
I turn and walk into the shop, and he follows close behind me. After picking a few things that I need, I head to the fitting room. Milo sits on one of the sofas in front as I step into the tiny cubicle. I slide my clothes off before I reach for the dress on the hanger. It’s a black maxi dress that is loose around my stomach and comfortable enough to get around in. Reaching for the zipper, I realize I can’t zip it up on my own. I think about taking it off, but when I look in the mirror, I love it. Luckily, it’s half price, so I wouldn’t be spending much on it with whatever he will pay me. And I do desperately need my own clothes.
Cody hated me in dresses, not that I complained about my clothes. I had some nice pieces, all of which were approved by him.
Deciding to ask a sales lady for help, I open the door to see Milo, one ankle propped on his other knee, his foot shaking. The sales lady next to him is leaning down as she talks to him, her tits on full display.
Milo spots me straight away, but she keeps talking, not even noticing me.
I cough to gain her attention.
She looks my way and stands straight as if she’s guilty of something.
“Is this your girlfriend, Milo? You never dated any of us back in school.” She smiles at me, but it’s forced and a little catty.
“I need help with the dress,” I say deadpan, ignoring them both and turning around to show the back. I feel it gets zipped slowly, and when I turn my head to thank her, I see Milo standing there.
“What do you think?” I ask him, looking down at the dress. His gaze doesn’t leave mine for a few heartbeats, and then it tracks down my dress.
“It’s not really your color if you want an honest opinion. We could find something else,” the sales lady says.
Who even says something like that?
I glare at her as Milo says, “It’s perfect.”
I spin around and tap my shoulder, indicating for him to unzip it. He does, and without a thank you, I step back into the changing room and pull off the dress.
Then he buys it for me.
Perfect.