5. Makari
I stayed in the back of the club, nursing my bourbon, trying to stay off the radar. The bass of the music and the flashing lights thrummed through me. This wasn't my scene anymore, but I had to do what I had to do.
The song switched to "Every Little Thing I Do," and suddenly, I was fifteen again, sitting on the couch between Malakai and Jahlil.
My brother threw his arm over my shoulder.
"Yo, you hear this, lil' sis? This is real music." Malakai grinned and turned up the stereo.
Jahlil grinned. "Yeah, but “Candy Rain,” that's my shit."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, y'all are stuck in the past."
Jahlil laughed. "Nah, baby girl, we're teaching you about your roots."
Malakai ruffled my hair, which pissed me off and caused me to swat at him. "Don't worry. You'll catch up to us soon."
Jahlil and I sat with our arms pressed together as we chilled, listening to music, and I felt loved and safe.
I blinked, and the memory shattered. I was back in this hellhole of a club, gripping my glass like a lifeline, and my throat burned. I couldn't tell if it was from unshed tears or the sting of the bourbon. Still, I threw back the rest of the bourbon, trying to pull myself together.
I flagged down a server suddenly in need of another bourbon. After I gave her my order, I wondered if I would have held on tighter if I'd known the outcome ahead of time.
My memory shifted again, and the smell of gunpowder hung in the air. It was putrid, but also a metallic smell overtook me as I heard sirens in the background.
"Malakai, Jahlil where are you?" I screamed.
I stumbled through our hangout. Then I saw him, Malakai, lying on the ground. He wasn't moving.
"No! No!" I cried, dropping to my knees. Blood covered his white tee, and it spread like red ink. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see me.
I whipped around to see Jahlil leaning up against a wall, clutching his side. "I'm so sorry," he said.
"You did this?" I screamed as the pieces clicked into place. Betrayal hit me harder than a physical blow.
"No, I didn't mean ? —"
But I was backing away. "Don't you dare!" I spat out.
The server set the bourbon in front of me, and the club came back into focus. I blinked hard, trying to shake the memory.
"Thank you," I stated, hoping I hadn't looked like a weirdo.
The weight of my choices settled on my shoulders. The MC world was one I couldn't escape. I thought I was done, but here I was knee-deep again. Would I ever be free of this, or would it always have its hooks in my back?
My eyes drifted around the club, landing on Dutch. That man was fine in all his glory with his broad shoulders and hazel eyes. Even as he talked to his crew, I swore I could feel the weight of his glare from here.
I sipped my drink in order to ignore the flutter between my legs, but I knew better. That man was trouble. That was the kicker, though. I craved danger, and Dutch was a perfect storm — powerful, potentially devastating, and beautiful.
I could hear my mama's voice now. "Girl, you're playing with fire."
Maybe I liked getting burned. I smirked.
I knew it was bullshit, though. I'd been burned before, and those scars ran deep. Could I trust that Dutch was built differently? Could I trust myself?
He threw his head back and laughed at something funny someone said. His baritone carried from across the room and pulled me in like a tick on a dog on a hot summer night.
"Fuck." I closed my eyes. When had my feelings for Dutch gone from complicated to whatever this was? I opened my eyes, and he was looking at me. There was an intensity that scared the hell out of me, but it also made me feel seen in a way I hadn't been in a long time.
What are you doing, girl? You're an independent woman, remember? I asked myself, tracing the rim of my glass. Dutch walked toward me, and the butterflies in my stomach kicked into overdrive. I attempted to put on my best 'I don't give a fuck' face.
Dutch slid into a seat beside me. "Hey, trouble."
I arched an eyebrow. "Uh, that's supposed to be my line."
Dutch grinned, and damn if it didn't make me weak. "Should I leave?" he questioned.
As much as I wanted to say yes and walk away myself, I found myself telling him to stay. Still, I had no idea if I was doing the right thing or making a mistake in my life. Dutch excited me as his arm brushed against mine, but then my phone buzzed, and I was prepared to ignore it until it buzzed again.
"Ms. Popular," Dutch commented, and his low voice did something to me.
"Yeah," I admitted as I snatched up my phone and unlocked the screen when I saw Tiya's name.
Tiya:
Makari, girl, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be getting cozy with MC. You betta watch yourself.
Shit, just when things were getting interesting , Tiya rained on my parade. I could tell Dutch was watching me, and he was probably wondering why my demeanor had changed.
"Everything all right?" he asked, concerned, making the situation worse.
I forced a smile. "Yeah, Tiya was checking on me."
Still, in my mind, Tiya's words hit me, dousing my fire with a bucket of ice water. Of course, she was right. Getting involved with Dutch was dangerous. I had firsthand knowledge of how things could go bad quickly.
I looked at Dutch. His hazel eyes seemed to cut right through my bullshit, making me feel safe and on edge at the same time, but also, I didn't feel so alone for the first time in forever.
"Are you sure you're good because it looked like you were having an argument with someone?"
A dry laugh escaped my mouth. "Yup, I'm always at war with myself. Story of my life."
Dutch nodded. "Sometimes you gotta trust your gut. What does your gut say?"
That was the million-dollar question. My gut was telling me to get the hell out before I was in too deep, but the traitor was my heart. I blew out air, buying time. "I'd like another drink, but I've already had two, so how about a glass of water?"
Dutch signaled the server, and when she came, he ordered a glass of ice water for me. As much as I wanted to relax, Tiya's warning could be true, and all this could blow up in my face. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to care as I sat with Dutch. God, I hoped I wasn't making a huge mistake.
When the server returned with the water, I drained the glass, attempting to calm my nerves.
"Dutch, we should talk for real this time."
"I feel that. Let's step outside."
I made up my mind no more hiding. I followed Dutch outside, and the night air was cool. Dutch leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. I opened my mouth, ready to lay everything on the line, when a commotion inside the club cut me off. Dutch's body tensed as his head snapped toward the noise.
"Shit, duty calls. Hold that thought."
Before I could protest, he strode back inside, leaving me with my thoughts. Life had a way of throwing its curveballs just when I'd worked up the courage. I followed him back inside and hung back as Dutch commanded respect without speaking a word. I was impressed.
I was drawn to him in his element. He was magnetic, assured, and powerful, but danger lurked too. I eyed his movements. One minute, he was full of charm, cracking jokes and slapping backs. The next thing, his voice hardened as he leaned in to speak with his VP, his voice too low to fully eavesdrop.
I couldn't look away because I wanted the rush, but I remembered the fall. Dutch glanced my way and caught my eye before he and Saint moved to a quiet corner. Curiosity got the best of me, and I moved closer to catch their words over the loud music.
"…use Makari as bait, the only way to draw them out," Dutch's deep voice came through as the song changed."
Saint nodded. "It's risky. Are you sure?"
"The Red Scorpions won't show their hand unless?—"
Dutch's words were cut short when a new song blared from the speakers.
Was that all I was to him, bait? My blood ran cold . A waxworm on a hook? I stumbled backward, bumping into a biker. My mind reeled as I attempted to process what I'd heard. Just when I was beginning to trust him again, he was going to dangle me in front of the enemy like a piece of meat.
"Are you all right?" someone asked.
I couldn't breathe, and the room felt like it was spinning. I wanted to leave, but my feet wouldn't go. Dutch looked my way, and for a hot second, he looked concerned. Or was it guilt? It didn't matter he'd done the damage.
I thought I was finished being a pawn and allowing others to decide my fate, but here I was back where I started. Fool me twice. Shame on me.
Finally, I forced myself to move through the crowd. I entered a hallway and headed to the bathroom.
"Yo, Makari," Dutch's voice cut through the music.
I couldn't face him, my eyes were leaking, and I'd be damned if I allowed him to see me cry.
I slammed the bathroom door behind me. My hands were shaking as I turned on the knob and splashed cold water on my face.
A knock on the door scared me. "Makari."
"Leave me alone!" I snapped.
"Talk to me, come on." There was a pause. "What did you hear?"
"I heard enough to know you plan on using me as bait!"
Dutch was quiet. I wanted to open the door and catch him in his lie.
"It's not like that. Let me explain. There's more to it," he finally said.
I fought the urge to believe him. "I almost fucking trusted you."
"Please, you still can?—"
"No," I cut his words short. "It's over. I'm done being used."
He sighed. "I'll be here when you're ready to talk," he said, his footsteps fading, leaving me with hurt and, most of all, anger. I straightened up and moved over to the window and unlocked it. I would let these crews play their games. I had my own moves to make.