Chapter 15 #2
“Are you sure? She won’t look at you, played the guilt card pretty damn heavy. Blames you and the club, then cries so you feel like shit for what she went through.”
“Fuck you, Savage.”
“I would let you in a heartbeat, brother.” He winks. “I have seen this shit before. Women doing crazy shit to get what they want.”
I grit my teeth, then look over my shoulder into the room to see Bolt checking her face. Valarie bats his hands away, and Bolt holds his hands up in a surrender motion.
“I am fine. It doesn’t hurt that much,” she bitches, her tone stronger than it was second ago.
“Told you. Faking it,” Savage calls as he walks away, into church, but stops before he enters the room “She was spotted sitting in a car outside the garage yesterday. Think on that.”
His words feel like a slap, but I have to give her the benefit of the doubt. With one more look into the medical room, where Val is still not letting Bolt treat her, I rest my hands on my hips. I tilt my head back, eyes closed, and blow out a frustrated breath.
“Why can’t life be fucking simple?”
Dropping my phone into the box by the door, I enter church, where everyone is sitting around waiting for me. I take my seat ignoring the looks from Savage, and Target, who are watching me closely.
Biting my thumbnail, I wait for Pres to start; the bang of the gavel on the table makes my heart jolt in my chest.
“Alright, we need to get more information out of the girl; there is more to this shit she is saying. I’ve seen women play men to get what they want for years, and it never ends well for them.”
“We don’t know that,” I snap.
“Brother, you are too close to this chick. She knows how you are— the guilt trip showed us that. Do not say shit,” Racer snaps when I go to speak. “She is to be watched at all times while she is here. I do not want to find her skulking around the room, looking for anything or planting shit.”
“You don’t know if that is the reason she is here. For fuck’s sake, Pres, he beat the shit out of her. You saw her.” I point to the door.
“But why? From what we have seen and heard, she is in deep with the crew, Crash. With her close to the top of the food chain with them, there is no need for them to beat her now.”
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. His words make me think.
Fuck, he has a point, I know he does. The rational side of me knows he is right, but there is a part of me that is clinging to the fact that Valarie would not play me like this.
“She wouldn’t play me.”
“She would if it helped her find out what we know about her and the crew she fucking runs.” This comes from Rogue.
Flame and Forge nod in agreement, and it pisses me off.
“Fuck.” I scrub my hands over my face, suddenly feeling tired.
Things were fucking peachy a few days ago. I got to fuck my girl for the first time, the garage was running smoothly, and now my girl is fucking ghosting me, and my brothers are thinking that a beat-up ex-girlfriend is a fucking plant in the club.
Bolt comes into church, his face bright with anger.
“She won’t let me touch her. Thinks I am a fucking old pervert and I might plant a chip on her or something. She is fucking crazy.” He looks at me when he sits in his seat. “Sorry, brother, but that is not a scared woman.”
“I bet you go in there and she acts all shy and scared again,” Savage throws out.
“Keep an eye out for her crew around the clubhouse and the streets. Crash, you are on Val watch. I do not want her left on her own.”
I nod. Fuck, I need to try and get ahold of Stevie. She is ghosting me and I have no fucking idea why.
The men talk about other club business but I get lost in my thoughts: images of Stevie under me whimpering my name, the way her body felt against me and how fucking tight she was. From that to this, I have no fucking clue.
My gut tightens thinking what could have happened.
I need to go and see her, find out what the hell is going on.
“Anything else?” Racer asks.
I blink coming back into the room. Savage is staring at me, his gaze penetrating.
The gavel hits the table and I am on my feet, leaving the room. I stop at the doorway to the medical room, watching Valarie lie there. Her eyes are closed, and blood still coats her skin since she refused to let Bolt clean her up or tend to her wounds.
What my brothers said in church bounce around my head. Their words sink in, but my guilt and doubt rule any other emotions.
Her phone beeps, and she franticly reaches for it. I move back a little so she doesn’t see me. She frowns, types out something, then hides her phone back under the pillow.
Who did she text? Needing to know who she is in contact with, and needing to find out if she is putting my brothers at risk, I step into the room.
“Who are you texting?” My voice scares her, and she jumps, crying out in pain from the sudden movement.
I rush to her side, feeling a new roll of guilt.
“Have you had pain medication?” She shakes her head. “No? Why didn’t you let Bolt treat you?”
I pour her some water and hand her two Tylenol. She takes them from me, swallowing them. Taking the cup, I give her a look that says I am not letting it go, but she turns her head away.
“I did not want anyone touching me. I only feel safe with you.”
“You are safe here, Val.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” She is quiet for a second then she lets out a soft sob and my gut knots at the sound.
She sounds broken; there is no way that she is here for any other reason except being hurt.
Right?
Fuck, I can’t seem to settle on what is right or wrong here.