Chapter 11
Aiden
This woman triggers some kind of territorial, primal instinct in me.
Watching the men here look at her and lick their fucking lips has my blood pressure rising.
I have a shipment of Berettas arriving that I’ve just found out is gonna be fifty short, and way too much to deal with to waste time focusing on some bratty little cunt who’s just like any other wannabe that walks through the fucking clubhouse doors.
“I’m not going with you on your bike,” Mia bites out, her body pressed to mine, now fueled with alcohol-induced confidence.
Her skin is glistening under the neon light, and she’s looking up at me with straight defiance in her eyes.
The smell of vodka and the hint of her perfume is tempting every part of me.
All the while she grips my cut tight with both hands. “What if I fall off? I’ve had a lot to drink…” she rambles.
Four and a half drinks to be exact. I signal to Roz a few tables over, indicating that it’s time to call a taxi. She knows the drill. She does this at least a couple times a week at Lavish.
“A woman should have a choice about who takes her—”
“Fucking Christ, do you ever stop talking?” I growl as I bend down and pick her up, tossing her over my shoulder and holding her dress down over her ass so these horny fuckers don’t get the view they’ve been praying for. I expected this to finally quiet her down, but it doesn’t.
All the fucking way past Roz and Tally, who are laughing their asses off as Roz hands me Mia’s purse. All the way through the open overhead door of the club, then through the crowd of people chuckling at us. And all the way to the end of my property, she demands and fights.
A combination of “put me fucking down,” “who the fuck do you think you are,” “you’re not my fucking keeper,” and “you fucking barbarian” pours out of her mouth as she pounds on my back with her small fists. Just as I thought. Rhiannon.
The yellow cab that Roz called is already waiting when I reach the end of the drive, far from the clubhouse and any people. The only sounds out here are the crickets and her fucking mouth.
When I get to the door, I glance inside and meet the driver’s eyes right away.
He’s my regular, and he’s seen it all, so he’s not surprised when I open the back door and toss Mia on the seat with a low growl.
She lands in an enraged little huff, brushing wisps of hair off her face.
I toss her purse in her lap and grip the doorframe as I lean into the cab.
“You have to earn the right to be on the back of my bike,” I tell her. “And you fucking haven’t,” I add, as I slam the door and hand a fifty to the driver through the open window.
“Where to?” he asks.
I look back at her. She’s holding up both middle fingers, and if she wasn’t a complete pain in the ass, it would be almost cute as she continues to tell me to go fuck myself from the back seat.
Backing away with a wicked grin, I offer the driver a shrug as she continues barking shit at me.
“Fuck if I care.”
“Who the hell are you to throw me around?” she shouts. I run a hand through my hair and turn back to the driver.
“Actually, there’s a cliff at the end of Woodhaven and Highway 4. You could take her there.”
Something about those words shuts her up. Fucking finally.
The cabbie chuckles, and the sound of gravel crunching under his tires takes over as I light a smoke and inhale deeply, taking a much-needed settling breath.
We’ll see if the fucking brat comes back now.