Chapter Thirty
June
Blood sprays from James’s mouth, splattering the floor. He staggers but stays on his feet, the bikers surrounding me all shouting, and I follow suit, cupping my hands around my mouth to amplify my voice.
“Knock him out!” I yell.
James swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, then swings his fist, catching his opponent under the chin. I wince at the snapping sound, but my blood hums at the sight of him flying backward, body hitting the floor with a loud THUNK.
“Nice, James!” Theo shouts. We’re in the front row watching James’s fight with most of the Saints, having come straight here after a later Saturday ride.
Energy sparks in the air like every spectator is an individual generator.
James is transformed in the ring. He has gasoline in his veins, and he starts each round by lighting a match.
He kicks when the other fighter tries to stand, sending him flat on his stomach, eyes shut and blood spilling from his nose.
The referee counts down, hits the floor, then declares James the winner, still undefeated.
He raises his fists in the air, and the crowd is on their feet, screaming and clapping.
Smiling wide, I turn to Theo, who’s glowing with pride at his brother.
With another cheer, I jump, and Theo catches me with ease, raising me up.
After the fight, I’m so wound up and turned on that Theo drags me to a closet, pulls my underwear to the side, and impales himself inside me. We fuck hard and fast, my back against the shelf and Theo gripping my ass with bruising strength.
James gives us a knowing look when we finally make it back to personally congratulate him on the win.
Back at the Iron Cage, I find myself joining in on the celebration, dancing for several hours, sweaty and drunk.
I spent the week settling into a routine that became normal so quickly that I almost don’t remember when life was different.
Theo took me to work every day, I met the girls for Taco Tuesday, he gave me another riding lesson that I excelled at, we hung out at the clubhouse a couple of times, and we spent every free second becoming experts on each other’s bodies.
Despite all that, I still feel the fire sparking in my core. They’re flames now, and I know I’ll have to appease them soon. The spontaneous kill to save Theo wasn’t enough. It was a handful of nuts when what I’m craving is a Thanksgiving feast.
I shake my head, trying to banish any thought that isn’t about dancing to the reverberating beat of the song.
I want to cling to the happiness born from the fight and celebrations.
Someone comes up behind me and I look back, expecting Theo.
But I don’t recognize the man. Sparks dancing in my stomach, I pull away from the stranger and head to the bar, eyes scanning for Theo.
When I find him, a cold sludge of apprehension seems to fill my mind.
He’s in the back corner with Kip, their heads bent together and Kip occasionally looking around, as if worried about being overheard.
It’s probably nothing. Still, the phone call I overheard yesterday morning replays in my mind, Theo’s low voice biting back in response to something I couldn’t hear.
“Will you just calm down and be patient? I know what the fuck I’m doing. Look, she trusts me now. I’ll get something we can use against her.”
He wasn’t talking about me. He couldn’t be. It was Saints business. Had to be.
But as I watch him talk to Kip, his entire face frowning, an intrinsic part of me knows the truth. Swallowing down the unease, I turn to the bartender and order a fifth shot of vodka.
My memory of the night ends there. I’m not surprised when I wake up naked in Theo’s bed, head pounding and pelvis sore.
I groan, roll over, snatch the painkillers on the bedside table, and throw them back with the entire glass of water Theo left for me.
I’ve slept in his room every night this week, and he, without fail, brings me a fresh glass of water before bed and in the morning.
There’s also a bottle of painkillers, ointment, and lotion that seem to have a permanent place on my side of the bed, just in case one of our sessions of bringing each other blinding pleasure becomes too rough.
“Coffee?”
The voice is a gong in my ears. Theo chuckles at my protests, and the bed dips when he sits. “You okay, little reaper?”
“Mm, too loud,” I mumble. I turn, curl closer to Theo, and ask, “Did we fuck last night?”
“Do you want us to have fucked last night?”
My eyes inch open halfway. My cheeks flush, and heat curls between my legs at the idea of Theo using me for his own needs. He knows it, too. His eyes darken, and an eyebrow raises.
“You were so good for me last night,” he says. “Very eager and obedient.”
I press my thighs together, wishing I could remember what we did.
I’m about to ask what the day’s plans are when he stands, leaving a mug of coffee next to the empty water glass.
“I have an errand to run with Kip. We’re scouting out a possible hit for the boys. They’re getting antsy.”
I know how they feel, I think. I start to push the covers off to get ready. “Give me thirty mi—”
He interrupts with, “Stay here. Rest. It’s not going to be fun or interesting. I won’t be gone long. James should be home in an hour or two.”
I frown. “Where did he sleep last night?”
“No idea, but if you find out, please share.” Curiosity wakes among the fire in my chest. In the three weeks I’ve been here, I’ve never seen James with anyone, and no one has talked about a current partner or an ex.
Theo presses a kiss to my forehead before leaving, which reminds me of another mystery. He hasn’t kissed me on the lips in over a week. I should ask him about it, but every time I think to, I’m distracted by his mouth landing somewhere else on my body.
It takes an hour to finally get out of bed and get dressed.
The painkillers have kicked in, subduing the headache, and a smoothie staves off any nausea.
Bored, I venture back into Theo’s room, surveying it with fresh eyes.
I dug through most of his drawers and under his bed after our fight that first week, but James interrupted me before I found anything.
And I haven’t thought to keep snooping since then.
Deciding Theo is innocent—well, innocent enough —drove off ideas of invading his privacy further.
But now, that phone call fills my ears.
“She trusts me now. I’ll get something we can use against her.”
Uncertainty is a predator in my gut, sniffing for a hint of its prey. It propels me to his bathroom, where I know there aren’t any cameras. I search and find nothing interesting in the cupboards or drawers except for a vibrator that should’ve found its way to his bed before now.
I check his closet next, getting on my hands and knees to look behind hanging clothes and a shoe rack. I open the gun safe, finding nothing new, and am about to give up when I notice a large binder hidden behind it.
Why would Theo hide something behind the fireproof, locked safe? Maybe he knows I have the safe’s combination and thought behind would be safer than inside.
I drop to the floor, cross my legs, and stare down at the binder that looks more like a photo album now that it’s in front of me.
Guilt is a rare feeling for me. I’ve killed fifteen people and didn’t feel bad about a single one. I’ve never once felt guilty about invading people’s privacy. But the sensation crawling up my spine feels suspiciously like guilt.
Something about this binder feels more important than an unregistered gun or a dossier of drug dealings. Tingling fingers trace the edge of the book as curiosity wars with the potential guilt of crossing this line.
I’ve just decided not to look when there’s a voice from the closet doorway. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t hear James arrive.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I jump and push away from the binder. “I didn’t… I wasn’t…” Shame swallows the last half of those sentences.
James frowns, eyes falling on the binder. Color leeches from his cheeks. When he speaks, his voice is shaky. From fear or anger, I’m not sure. “June, tell me you didn’t look at that.”
I shake my head. “No. And I wasn’t going to. I was about to put it back, I swear.”
He takes a slow step forward. From the look on his face, I was right not to open the book. “Why do you have it?”
“I overheard Theo on the phone mentioning some girl he got to trust him, and I…” I swallow, though the embarrassment stays lodged in my throat.
“I thought he was talking about me, and I don’t know what I was looking for, but I had to know what he meant.
If all this was real or if he’s just been using me. ”
“You thought it’d be easier to find the answer in his personal belongings than by asking him?”
The blush deepens in my cheeks. I forgot how much I hate feeling ashamed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me. It’s not my privacy you’re invading.”
I nod, looking back at the binder. James’s reaction to it simultaneously makes me want to look even more than before and incredibly glad that I didn’t. “Was he talking about me?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the book. “On the phone call?”
“Again, I’m not the person you should ask.”
My eyes burn. I’m not even sure why.
“Put the binder back, June.”
His words are stern, and I prickle at being ordered to do something by anyone other than Theo.
Still, I know he’s right, so I grab the binder, return it to its hiding spot behind the safe, and push past James to walk out of the closet.
I feel him on my heels and attempt to shake off the last few minutes before we’re in the living room.
I didn’t do anything wrong, and I still don’t know what Theo’s call was about. He could’ve been manipulating me this whole time, just like Amber said. So, until I have answers, I refuse to feel guilty for trying to protect myself.