Chapter Twenty-Four
RHYS
The beer is cold in my hand as I sit at the bar inside the clubhouse. My mind has been fully on Bristol, wondering if she’s alright, contemplating what kind of man I am for letting her go back to the house she shares with someone who could be hurting her.
Wrath rounds the corner of the kitchen, looking like his ass is on fire. Pulling his phone away from his ear, his eyes give me a look of worry.
“There’s a woman outside the gate, she’s asking for you by your legal name, boys say she’s scared out of her mind. What do you want to do?” It takes less than a second for Wrath’s words to hit their mark, forcing my heart to rise up and knot in my throat.
“Fuckin’ let her in!” I scream as I’m storming past him, pushing through the crowd of people partying to get to the front doors.
The cool autumn air hits my face, but it can’t cool the fire burning inside me.
Scared out of her mind? If he put his hands on her, I’ll fucking kill him tonight.
There will be nothing that could stand in the way of preventing his slow, painful death.
I’m on my bike before I realize it, the engine roaring to life under me.
As I race down the long driveway, dirt and dry leaves pick up and form a cloud in my wake.
In what feels like eternity but in reality is only a moment, I’m sliding to a standstill at the front gate, just as they’re closing behind a group of people.
Our prospects huddle around a figure, guiding her forward.
Then my eyes are on her, and my heart fucking shatters.
“Bristol,” I say on a panicked, rushed breath as I shove the prospects out of my way, leaving me standing right in front of her.
I don’t waste any time, my hands sliding into her hair on either side of her face.
The floodlight from the top of the posts illuminates her features.
She’s hysterical, and I’d guess on the verge of a panic attack.
Her eyes are puffy and swollen, and tears cascade down her face.
I gently move her head side to side, looking for any physical harm and finding none.
“Who did this to you? Who hurt you?” I growl, barely controlled rage thrumming through my veins.
“I didn’t know where else to go, Rhys. Kira is out of town, I can’t go to my parents’ like this, and I just wanted .
. .” Her voice cracks, and I pull her into a hug, wrapping my arms around the top of her shoulders, cradling her head to my chest. She wraps her arms around my torso, holding me so tight that it’s clear she’s scared to let go.
Her sobs come harder, her body shaking with the force of her tears.
I’ve never seen her like this, never wanted to see her so distraught. I’m borderline psychotic right now, torn between wanting to comfort my woman and viciously murder the person responsible for the state she’s in.
I drop my voice to a gentle whisper, not wanting to scare her any more than she already is. “You wanted what, my love?”
“To feel safe,” she hiccups against my chest.
So she ran to me.
I rub my fingertips against her scalp, my other hand sliding up and down her back until her tears start to slow down, her breathing coming in at a much healthier rate than moments ago.
Sliding my hands back into her hair, I angle her head so I can look at her face.
Even tear-stricken, with bloodshot eyes and raw skin, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
But I’m fucking fuming seeing her hurt like this.
She should never know fear, should never experience hurt.
My only focus right now is getting to the bottom of what happened, to make sure that she’s alright, safe, and comfortable.
I drop my lips to her forehead, kissing the spot furrowed between her eyebrows, then I kiss each of her cheeks, her salty tears coating my lips.
Bristol blinks up at me, large beads of tears sticking to her wet eyelashes before they trickle over her cheeks. “You’ll always be safe with me. I would move the earth itself to keep you safe.”
“I believe you.”
Thank god.
“Let’s get inside so we can talk in private.” Bristol nods her agreement as she takes a small step out of my arms, looking around at her feet for something when a prospect holds out a bag in her direction.
“Here you go, ma’am,” he says, averting his eyes from looking directly at her. Maybe this one will make it through the vote after all.
“Thanks,” I say as I take it from him, not wanting to let Bristol carry it herself, even though she clearly can. “You’ve never been on a bike before, have you?” I ask her as she wipes her damp face with the sleeves of her hoodie.
“No . . .” she replies hesitantly. I move further into her space, a mere inch between us. Bristol shivers, her eyes darting back and forth between mine.
“You still trust me?”
“I trust you, Rhys.” And fuck me if those aren’t the best words I’ve ever heard.
Only three other ones could top it, and hell, those would be pretty damn close.
Because trust? Without it, you don’t have shit.
You can love someone all day long, but if you don’t trust them, that love will wither away.
And nothing about what’s between Bristol and I will wither away.
Not now that I’ve found her and she’s run right into my arms.
“I mean it, I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll get on first, and then throw your leg over and sit behind me. Just watch your leg from touching here,” I say and motion to the exhaust pipe.
Taking a step away from her, I toss her bag to the prospect waiting next to my bike. “Get this up to the house for us, will you?”
“No problem, Sin.”
Gripping my handlebars, I get situated on my bike, holding it upright and steady so Bristol can climb on behind me.
With delicate fingers, she grips my shoulder, bracing herself on me as she swings her leg over the back of my bike and straddles it.
There are inches between us as she sits timidly, and that won’t do at all.
Reaching behind me, I grip her thigh, giving her a good yank forward so she’s flush against me, her warm thighs on the outside of mine, and it’s not until this moment that I realize it’s just not fucking close enough. This has to be why Rogue likes to keep Kinsey on the front in his goddamn lap.
An image of Bristol straddling me instead of my bike flashes through my mind, her round, perky ass sitting right in my lap, her thighs wrapped around my waist while we ride down empty roads. Fuck, that’s an image that needs to come to fruition.
But first, I need to make sure she’s safe and get to the bottom of what happened to make her run to me. Rage boils just under the surface, hot and molten, ready to erupt. There’s a side of me that I never want Bristol to see, the side that is willing to go to any lengths to protect those I love.
“That’s better. Don’t be scared to get close, baby. Makes it easier if we’re one with the bike instead of three separate beings. We’re only a few minutes up the road. I’ll go slow. Wrap your arms around me and just relax. I’ve got you.”
I start my bike up, the engine rumbling and vibrating under us.
Bristol grips me tighter, her fingers digging into the thick leather of my cut.
I walk us forward and then twist the throttle.
Once we’re moving, I release my right handlebar, reaching back and gripping Bristol’s calf, letting her know I’m right here.
She rests her cheek on my back, and although the tension is high and tumultuous, my heart fucking roars with rightness, having her on the back of my bike.
That seat is reserved for my old lady, the one I’ll spend the rest of my life dedicated to.
So, to finally have her right here with me?
It’s hard not to feel some sort of way about it.
Even if I wish the situation were different.
I navigate us down the long gravel road by muscle memory, my thoughts fully on Bristol and getting her alone in my room to sort everything out. The floodlights are on outside the clubhouse, lighting the entire front porch and driveway up like a beacon.
Everyone seemed to have moved to the porch for our arrival, and I make a mental note to kick all their asses later.
Except for maybe Morgan. Wrath leans casually against one of the thick wood beams, a patch bunny under his arm as she strokes his chest. Jesus, what the fuck is Bristol going to think the first time she sees him out in the open?
Wrath brings a joint up to his lips, inhaling before passing it to Noose.
The rich, earthy scent hits our noses before we’ve even gotten off the bike.
I’m suddenly insecure as fuck, and I hate that feeling.
This is my home. My family. Bristol hates that stuffy bullshit of where she came from.
She’ll thrive here. She will. I don’t know if I’m trying to convince myself or not, but I need something to hold on to.
Especially as I grip her hand, pulling her impossibly close to me as I usher her up the stairs toward the group of people, when Malice steps in front of us, blocking our path.
He cocks his head to the side as he regards Bristol, dark eyes taking her in.
“So, you’re the queen who made him extra soft.”
Bristol sputters, her mouth gaping open as she looks from Malice back to me, her eyebrows pinched as confusion washes over her features.
He’s wearing a pair of low-rise denim jeans, so low he’s two seconds from flashing everyone his damn dick.
He’s got on his leather cut with no T-shirt, per usual, and I’m wondering what the hell Bristol is thinking of him.
Malice’s torso is a work of art, covered in patchwork-style tattoos.
His fresh blond hair is sticking up wildly, his tongue sticking out as he rolls the piercing between his teeth.
She isn’t the judgmental type, but Malice can be a bit much when you’re just meeting him.