Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
I cut the engine and roll my bike into line with the rest of the Kings’, and glance at the clubhouse. Looks like everyone is here.
Shit.
Cade slides off the bike behind me and hands over his helmet with a curious look.
“I need to change,” I tell him, hanging the helmets on the handlebars and heading towards the clubhouse, motioning for him to follow me.
We cross the parking lot, and above us, the clouds fracture just enough for a subtle slice of light to cut through. But as I approach the clubhouse, a different cloud hangs over me, darker and heavier than anything in the sky right now.
I push the door open and step inside, holding the door for Cade to follow me in. The cheers and shouts start up right away, and I can’t help but smile at my brothers waiting for me.
“Alder! Welcome back, my boy!”
“They let you out early!”
“Did you get your north-facing cell this time?”
Mac is the first to step up to me with a wide grin. “Damn shame Yvette did her job and got you out. I was hoping you’d break into double digits with your mugshots.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cade’s head jerk towards me. But my gaze skips past him, locking instead on the wall across the room, lined with rows of our mugshots.
I meet Mac’s eyes again with a small shrug. “But I’m still winning.”
Mac just rolls his eyes and walks away as Kurt approaches… looking pissed.
“Heard you had a visitor yesterday,” he says in a low voice, glaring at me.
“Not now,” I mutter, taking a step to move around him.
“Yes, fucking now.” His hand snaps out to my shoulder, and he grips it hard. Then his gaze flicks to Cade. And when it comes back to me, it’s a fucking inferno.
I shove his hand off me. “I just got out for saving your ass. If I hadn’t shut John down, both of us would have been processed by now, and who knows what kind of bullshit charge he’d have cooked up. So you can fucking wait a couple hours before you come swinging.”
The anger rolling off him is palpable, but I don’t give him time to answer. My hand finds Cade’s arm, and I grab him, pulling him with me through the noise and down the hallway to one of the bedrooms I use when I’m too drunk to ride or when Mom is too much.
“I’m just grabbing some clothes,” I say as I step into the room.
Cade shuts the door behind us, sealing out the noise of the clubhouse as I head for the dresser and strip off my cut and T-shirt.
“Because you were in jail?” he asks, looking around the room that has just a bed, a dresser, and a couple of flags and posters tacked to the walls.
“A holding cell,” I correct, reaching into my pocket to pull out a cigarette.
Then I grab my lighter and… Jesus fucking Christ. If this isn’t the best cigarette I’ve ever had.
My eyes close as smoke travels down my throat, and the ache in my body gives way to a lazy, delicious hum.
I exhale slowly, and tension bleeds out of me with the smoke.
Over twenty-four hours without one, and it wasn’t even my fucking choice.
When I open my eyes again, Cade is just simply watching me.
His hair is its usual mess, with soft strands falling across his forehead, begging me to fist them and tug until he tilts his head back for me.
His blue eyes match his blue crewneck as they slowly and easily scan over the ink on my shoulders.
And he doesn’t even ask why I was in a holding cell.
I take a drag of my cigarette again and let the silence stretch. He looks completely unbothered.
I wonder how far into this, and me, he’s willing to get, and what it takes to shake him…
“I punched a Mountie,” I say, blowing the words out on a cloud of smoke. A faint sunbeam trying to break its way through the clouds filters into the room, highlighting the haze.
His gaze flicks up to meet mine, and I see the quiet curiosity swirling in his eyes.
I take a step closer, holding him in place with my stare. “He touched my tools.”
One eyebrow lifts, but barely.
“Because they were raiding our garage and our clubhouse.” I take another step forward, and now we’re only inches apart.
As I take another drag, his chest rises and falls, and he stands up a bit straighter.
I blow the smoke out and tilt my head as I dare him to ask why.
Cade’s eyes flick between mine, and just when I think he isn’t going to push for more, his eyes drop to my mouth. “Looking for…?”
I smile. “Evidence to lock me away for good.”
He pulls in a breath and lifts his eyes to mine again. And there it is. The flicker I keep catching in him. The spark that wants to ignite, but never quite makes it… unless I bring him right to the edge.
The thin sliver of light spilling through the blinds catches his face as the clouds shift again outside. It cuts across his cheekbone and lights up his eyes… and for a second, he looks like he belongs in that sunlight. For just one second, he almost lets himself burn.
And I wonder why that spark keeps dying.
“Is it the gay thing?” I ask.
His brows pull together, and he just stares back at me, waiting for me to explain.
I gesture at him. “Why you’re sad.”
And that tiny spark instantly vanishes.
“No,” he says flatly.
I nod as I inhale my cigarette again, then slowly exhale to let the smoke drift between us.
He breathes it in, almost automatically and with purpose, like he’s chasing the heat and hungry for it.
“You sure?” I ask, poking the bear to get him to wake the fuck up.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” he snaps, and I smile. His eyes flare as he glares at me. “I’m not fucking depressed because I’m gay.”
“Ah.” I lift the cigarette back to my lips. “So you are depressed.”
He rolls his eyes and turns away, taking a step towards the door.
Oh, fuck no, baby.
I step forward and slam the door shut with my hand before he can open it enough to leave, and twist him around so his back hits the wood with a thud. His breath catches, and his body tenses against mine.
“Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” I say in a low, warning voice, my face close enough to his to feel the heat rolling off him.
His expression hardens as he glares back at me. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
We hold each other’s gaze, and the longer I look into his eyes, the more I see. There’s something swelling under the surface, pushing hard against the small cracks, and threatening to spill over. His wide eyes glisten, and it looks like he’s barely hanging on.
But he doesn’t say a word. He just reaches for my hand and drags it up to his throat, keeping his eyes locked on mine the whole time.
And in his glassy eyes, I see his beg.
Slowly, I curl my fingers around his throat. His eyes fill with need and hunger, and I let him feel it, and let it build, as my grip on him tightens.
His eyes close, and the tension leaks out of his body like I’m wringing it from his veins. I squeeze harder, dragging it out of him, and watching as his control slips away.
Then a single tear slips free and slides down his cheek.
I lean in, dragging my tongue along the salty path it left behind, and hold him until his breath turns raspy and his hands clutch at my wrist.
“Tell me when, baby,” I whisper, letting my lips brush his ear.
But he doesn’t.
I continue to hold him, squeezing until his cheeks flush and his breaths turn ragged, and his eyes snap open, shining with desperation and caught somewhere between begging me for more and begging me to stop.
Finally, he softly taps my arm, and I release him.
I stay in his space as he coughs through the burn, his throat marked white and red from my hand. His chest heaves, and my pulse picks up, as I feel his desperation bleed into me like it’s contagious.
“Something big is coming,” I say.
He coughs again, then lifts his eyes to mine.
I glance down at his throat, flushed red as my handprint lingers.
“I need to make a choice.”
“What choice?” he asks in a raspy voice.
I drag in a deep breath, lean over to snub my cigarette out in the ashtray on the dresser, then straighten and face him again.
“Someone wants to force us into some fucked up shit,” I tell him. “Someone bad.”
Cade’s eyes flick between mine, and the life in them is almost alarming.
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Tell them to fuck off.”
But as I hold his gaze, I let him fuel my fire.
“I know what to do,” I say, adding determination to my voice. “I just need to get my club on board.”
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips.
Danger turns my professor on.
And as much as I need to sit down with my brothers and lay out everything Frank told me, and get them ready for what’s coming… I need this. And after spending a night in a cell for my club, they can let me have this first.
I lean in and brush my lips over Cade’s, taking in the fire growing in his gaze.
“Let’s go fuck up your bed, baby. Before you burn this whole place down.”