Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
THE FIRE CRACKLED and popped, sending sparks up into the night sky as the bonfire roared behind the clubhouse. The Friday night party outside was in full swing—booze flowing, music blasting, open sex as the bikers let loose after a long week of whatever jobs they had or the chaos the club had been dealing with. It was wild tonight, even by our standards.
The kind of night where anything could happen, and probably would.
I sat in one of the old lawn chairs, watching the flames dance, barely listening to the conversation happening around me. Chain was rambling on about some big fish he caught last week, while Thunder was busy downing his beer like it was water. The sweet butts and hang arounds were hovering nearby, tits bared as they danced, clearly trying to catch our attention, but I wasn’t interested.
Shit, I should just move my lawn chair to the old dock and be alone, since that’s what I was feeling right now.
Normally, a night like this would be exactly what I needed—a chance to cut loose, get drunk and get laid, forget about everything for a while. But tonight, my head wasn’t in it. I kept thinking about her.
I couldn’t get her out of my fucking mind even though I’ve been trying to keep my distance like Spinner had suggested. No matter how much I tried to focus on the fire, the conversation, or the women who were too eager for my attention, my thoughts kept drifting back to her. To the way she looked at me in the garage, with those wide, uncertain eyes, that you never knew what shade of blue they would be.
The way her body felt so right holding me tight on the back of my Harley the other day, like she belonged there. How the feel of her eyes watching me while I worked turned me the fuck on. To the way she seemed so out of place in this world, yet somehow, I couldn’t picture her anywhere else now that she was here.
“Bolt, you even listenin’?” Chain’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I glanced over at him, seeing his confused expression.
“Yeah,” I muttered, though I had no idea what he’d just said.
Thunder laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. “You my brother are a fucking liar. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m not lying about shit.”
“Is this about Horse’s daughter?” Chain asked, leaning forward and looking me in the eye. “Because you haven’t been the same since she got here.”
“No shit, really?” Thunder said, now curious as hell. “Fiona? You’re one brave motherfucker, cause if you hit and quit Horse’s daughter, he’ll send you down under and I don’t mean fucking Australia.”
Before I could reply, a hang-around I barely knew plopped down on my knee, no top and as her skirt rode up, no panties, her hand resting on my shoulder. I could feel her eyes on me, waiting for me to put my hands on her, but I didn’t bite, my cock seemingly locked down, same as my mind.
“Come on, Bolt,” she purred, her fingers trailing lightly down my arm. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”
I shrugged her off, taking another sip of my beer. “I’m not interested”
She huffed, but before she could say anything else, Jenny, who’d been eyeing me for the past hour, came up and tried to join in. She leaned over the back of my chair, pressing her chest against my shoulder in a way that would have normally gotten a reaction from me. “How about the both of us?” she purred, her hand caressing the other woman’s tit.
“Damn Bolt, if you don’t, I will,” Chain growled from beside me, already standing, and he called me a manwhore? I don’t think there’s a woman out there who could lock him down.
“Go with Chain,” I said, lifting the hang-around off my knee. That’s when something caught my eyes standing just outside the circle, by one of the big ancient trees. I would recognize that small woman anywhere. What was she doing out here?
Fiona was standing just a few feet away, watching the party unfold around the bonfire, and the look on her face stopped me cold. The disgust and fear written all over her face said it all. She looked horrified, like she was seeing a side of this world she hadn’t been prepared for.
And maybe she wasn’t.
Hell, she didn’t belong anywhere near this scene
Her eyes locked on the group of men by the fire—some of the guys getting rough with a couple of the women, in a sexual way, the kind of rough that usually went over well in these circles, the women on board. But I could see it in her face—this wasn’t something she approved of. She didn’t understand it, didn’t want any part of it.
She was scared. Disgusted. And suddenly, I hated that she was seeing this side of the club.
Of me .
I stood up, shrugging past the women who were still talking, ignoring their confused looks. Fiona turned, her expression darkening as she walked away, her back stiff, her pace quick. She was retreating, trying to escape whatever had just hit her.
“Where are you going, Bolt?” Jenny called after me, but I didn’t answer. I didn’t have time for them. I had to go after her.
I caught up to Fiona just as she reached the side of the clubhouse. Her steps hurried, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to ward off some imaginary chill in the air—or maybe the chill from everything she’d just seen.
“Fiona!” I called out, my voice sounding rougher than I intended. She stopped but didn’t turn around. I could see her shoulders tense, her back straightening like she was bracing herself.
I walked up beside her, keeping my distance for a second before stepping closer. “You alright?”
She finally looked at me, her eyes wide and full of a mix of emotions. Disgust. Fear. Confusion. Hurt. It was all there, shining through those ever changing orbs.
“What the hell is that?” she asked, her voice shaking just enough that I knew she wasn’t as calm as she was trying to seem. “Is that what this place is? Is that what you men do?”
I didn’t know how to answer her. She’d seen the rougher side of things tonight, the side of the club that wasn’t all brotherhood and loyalty. She’d seen the part that was wild and untamed, the part that didn’t make sense to someone outside its circle.
“It’s... not always like that,” I said, though I knew that was only half-true. The outside club parties could get crazy dirty. But it wasn’t all bad. Not to me, anyway. I never got rough and just enjoyed sitting around the fire, talking, and getting drunk. Plus, Devil had a no sex policy in the common room, keeping the wilder stuff outside, so if it wasn’t your thing, then you didn’t have to see it.
Fiona let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not always like that? You looked pretty comfortable sitting there while it was happening. Those women all over you, just another night, huh?”
Her words stung more than they should have. I’d seen this scene a hundred times, but this was the first time it bothered me. Maybe because it bothered her, and she thought I was fucking those bitches. For reasons I continued to shove down, I didn’t want her thinking that.
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Look, I get it. This isn’t your world. Your old man sheltered you from this side of the club. But you’ve got no right judging me.”
She shook her head again, her expression softening just a little. “You’re right, I don’t. I just thought that... that maybe... you were...” She fought for words, and I waited patiently, curious. “I just thought the men here were safe, you know... but it looked rough and... and it’s disappointing. You men using the women in such a rough way.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, at least something that would make sense to her. The club was my life. The roughness, the wildness—it was all I’d ever known. But she hadn’t been exposed to it, and I could see now that she didn’t understand.
But I couldn’t stand the thought of her walking away, thinking I would ever get rough with a woman. Thinking I didn’t care about how she felt. Thinking badly of me .
“It’s not like that, Fiona,” I said, my voice measured since I was starting to get a little angry. “I would never hurt a woman.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine like she was trying to figure out if she could believe me, and decided she couldn’t. “Not intentionally, maybe,” she whispered, almost to herself, but I caught those words, and it made me furious.
“Just because you chose to marry an abusive asshole and stay with him for five fucking years before leaving doesn’t mean we’re all alike,” I shot back, pissed off for more reasons than I cared to admit. “You were a weak woman who had opportunities to leave, but you chose to stay and get the shit beat out of you. Now every man’s at fault for your mistakes? Give me a fucking break!”
Her eyes widened in hurt, and I saw the tears appear in the moonlight, falling down her cheek. Finally, she sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “You’re right, Bolt. James always said everything was my fault, that I couldn’t do anything right, and I suppose that goes for leaving him, too.”
“Fiona...” I tried, but she had already walked away, the door slamming behind her.
After she left, I just stood there in the darkness, the sounds of the party fading behind me. I wanted to reach out to her, to say something that would fix whatever I had just broken between us, but I wasn’t sure how I would ever do that now.
Why the fuck did I say something so heartless?
Shit, you could still see the fading bruises on her face, making what I said ten times worse. But dammit, why didn’t she leave? A part of me wanted that answer and was hoping she would give it to me. It was a question that had burned inside me since I was a kid.