Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Fury
I stare at Xanthe from under my hood. She’s just as beautiful as I remember. She never wore a lot of makeup because it just wasn’t needed. Her blue eyes always shone bright, especially when she was happy, and I see that happiness now as she stares down at her mobile phone.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” I ask casually.
She glances up, her cheeks reddening slightly before she tucks her mobile away. “Are you sticking around London?”
She was always good at changing the subject when she didn’t want to answer a question. “As long as he’s treating you good,” I say, offering a small smile to let her know I see what she just did. “I’ll be here for a few months at least,” I reply, knowing it’ll take me a lot longer to clear my debt to Donnie.
“We should spend some time together. You could come and see Mum.”
The thought of seeing Dianna fills me with dread. We parted on bad terms, not that Xanthe is aware of that. “Maybe,” I say with a shrug. “Is she living in London?”
Xanthe nods enthusiastically. “We all moved to London years back. The need for foster carers is huge here, and you know what my parents were like. Plus, they wanted us to have better opportunities.” She leans forward slightly, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hand. “I can’t believe you’re single, Reese Northman.”
“Fury,” I correct. “I sort of had someone,” I admit, wincing at the ache in my heart. “Back in Nottingham. It didn’t work out.”
She offers a sympathetic smile. “Well, looks like your new . . . friend is waiting for you,” she comments, looking past me to where Jennie is putting her jacket on. I don’t bother to correct her. Jennie is a new club girl at the MC, and we just happened to gravitate toward each other with us both being newbies. She’s good friends with London, and I often give her a ride home when she’s on the late shifts.
“I could get her to wait here while I take you home first,” I offer, suddenly regretting coming to this café.
Xanthe smiles as she stands. “It’s fine. I don’t live too far. Besides, I have a lift.” She glances out the window as a car glides to a stop outside. She pulls out her mobile and hands it to me. “Put your number in, and I’ll call you.”
“Will you, though?” I ask, smirking as I input the information.
“Of course. We’ll have dinner.”
I nod, watching as she grabs her coat and bag and heads out to the waiting car. “Are you ready?” asks Jennie, hooking her arm through mine. “My feet are killing.”
My alarm sounds, and I groan. My entire body aches, so when Jennie rolls over and throws her leg over me, I push it off and sit up. “What time is it?” she groans.
“Early.”
“Come back to bed,” she murmurs, running her nails gently down my back.
I roll my eyes. I don’t know how we’ve come to spending the nights together. It’s something I keep vowing to stop, yet when it comes down to it, I can’t quite kick her out.
I head for the shower, hoping she’ll leave, but when I go back into the room, she’s fast asleep. I sigh heavily. It’s another thing in my life I need to get on top of.
By the time I get to the address Axel gave me, I’m irritated. What the fuck could Donnie possibly want me to do for him other than fight? I press the buzzer on the gates, and they slowly open. I drive up the gravel driveway and stop outside the show home, where Chevy is waiting for me with a grin on his face.
I pull off my helmet and dismount the bike, staring past him at the house. “He complained about thirty-grand, yet he lives here,” I state.
Chevy laughs. “He’s waiting for you inside.”
I follow him in and through the house, down into the basement gym, where Donnie is pounding away on the running machine. He glances my way. “You came.”
“Didn’t really have a choice,” I mutter.
“Your President was surprisingly keen to agree to my terms.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s temporary.”
He laughs. “We’ll see. Chevy will show you the ropes.”
“What exactly will I be doing?”
He slows the machine down to a walk. “Whatever you’re told.”
I follow Chevy back upstairs, watching as he grabs a set of car keys. “We have a job at the fight club,” he tells me.
“I can follow on my bike,” I say as we head out to a sleek black SUV.
He shakes his head. “Not an option. Whilst you’re here, you’ll drive one of these cars out front.” He gets into the driver’s side, and I climb into the passenger side. “If I were you, I’d keep my head down and do as I’m told. The more you protest, the longer he’ll have you cleaning up shit.”
We arrive at the club and go through the back doors. The place is empty, and the smell of stale sweat is heavy. He unlocks a door at the back of the room, and we head down a set of stone steps. He turns on a light, and I wince at the sight of a bloodied male lying on a plastic sheet on the floor.
“The tools you need are there,” says Chevy, pointing to a table of various saws and knives.
I frown. “What am I meant to do with that lot?”
He grins. “Cut him up,” he says simply.
My eyes widen as I stare at the lifeless body. “Are you shitting me?”
He shakes his head and points to a barrel. “Put him in the acid. Gloves for that are on the table too.” And then he turns around and goes back up the stairs. “I’ll come back for you in an hour.”
I stare down at the body in disbelief. It’s not like I’ve not done my fair share of disposals, but we have a clean-up team in the MC, so it’s been a while since I had to get my hands dirty. I groan, grabbing a saw from the table and dropping to my knees.
Each slice pisses me off further. I drop each body part into the drum of acid, one by one until there’s nothing left but the bloodied sheet. I add that into the drum and pull off my gloves, wiping my sweaty brow on the back of my hand. My mobile rings, and I see Axel’s name. I accept and hold it to my ear.
“Pres,” I greet.
“Just checking in.”
“You wouldn’t believe what I’m fucking doing,” I spit, staring at the bloodied saw on the table. “Clean-up.”
“Shit, he’s really gonna make you pay. Who’s he getting rid of?”
“Looks like it was a fight to the death,” I mutter. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare these days.
“Yeah, I heard rumours that he runs that kind of shit. He’s a sick fucker, which is why I told you to avoid fighting in his club. Come and see me when you get back.”
“Sure,” I say on a sigh, disconnecting.
Xanthe
Jorja tucks into her salad, waiting for me to fill her in. It’s been over a week since we last met up, which is a long time for us, but I’ve been working extra shifts all week.
“He was sweet,” I tell her.
She arches a brow. “The guy was loaded. He was in the VIP area. Did he at least kiss you?”
I laugh. “No.”
“Ugh,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“I didn’t want him to kiss me,” I say, shrugging. “I mean, not because I didn’t fancy him, because I really did.” We both laugh. “But I want him to be different, yah know?”
“A gentleman?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, relieved she gets me. “I’m so tired of men just after one thing. I’m ready now. I want the happily ever after.”
“And you think rich guy could be it?”
I shrug, smiling when I think of the guy we met last week on a night out. He was smooth yet sweet. “He’s been texting me all week, and even made sure he got me a lift home on my late shift.”
“Got you a lift?” she questions.
“He was working, so he sent one of his guys.”
She smirks. “Wow. He has guys.”
“Speaking of my late shift, I saw a really old friend. He came into the hospital all beat-up.”
“Do I know him?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Reese Northman. He was from my teen years.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks, wiggling her brows. “Didn’t you say you were off the rails as a teen?”
“Wasn’t everyone?” I tease. My smile fades as I think about Reese, or Fury, as he prefers now. “He was off the rails too. We were kind of off together.”
“Friends or more?”
I grin. “More. But then he moved away, and I didn’t hear from him again.”
“Harsh. Did he break your heart?”
I think over her words, feeling that familiar twinge in my chest. “I think we broke each other’s without meaning to.”
“That’s sad,” she says, taking another mouthful of food. “What’s he like now?”
I smile wider. “Fit.”
She laughs out loud. “Are you seeing him again?”
“I took his number so we could catch up.”
“Did you have sex with him?”
My mouth opens in mock horror. “I don’t even know him anymore.”
“I mean when you were teens,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“So, catching up might lead somewhere?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I doubt it. He’s part of The Chaos Demons MC, for a start. He hasn’t changed his ways.”
“Hey,” she defends, “that club ain’t all bad. They do a lot of nice shit in the community.”
“To cover up all the bad they do,” I point out.
“Rumours,” she says, shrugging. “People fear what they don’t understand.”
“And you understand?”
She laughs. “No, but they helped my mum once when she struggled to feed us. It wasn’t the same guy in charge back then, but I think they live by the same morals.” Jorja has lived in this area since she was born, so I’d expect her to defend the stories about the club and believe they’re doing good in the local community.
“Either way, I don’t know him anymore. I might call and ask him to dinner so we can catch up properly, but beyond that, he’s just a kid I used to know.”
When I get home, I shower and then decide to text Fury. It can’t hurt to catch up and see what his life is like now. At the very least, I can fill Mum in.
Me: Hi, it’s Xanthe. Just wondering if you’d like to catch up sometime.
I hit send then groan. Why does it sound so bothered/not bothered ? I shudder, but before I can analyse it further, his reply comes.
Fury: Tonight. 8 p.m.
I frown. He’s always been blunt and bossy.
Me: Okay. Where?
Fury: Your place.
Me: Actually, I was thinking dinner might be nice.
Fury: I’ll bring food.
I sigh heavily, unsure how I feel about having a biker in my home. I laugh to myself. This is Reese. He’d never hurt me. But I don’t reply with my address and instead decide that when he texts back to ask for it, I’ll arrange to meet him at a bar.
I must have drifted off because I wake with a start and sit up, looking around. I’m still wrapped in my towel from the shower, and my hair is damp. A loud bang makes me jump, and I get up off the bed and pull the blinds back from the bedroom window to see Fury at the front door. He looks up before I can step back, and I groan out loud. I can’t exactly ignore him now, but how the fuck did he find my address?
I grab my dressing gown and swap it from the towel, then I head down to open up. He grins. “Thought you were hiding from me. I’ve been knocking for ages.” He holds up a bag of what I assume is food. “I got Chinese.”
“How did you get my address?” I ask as he steps past me and goes straight for the kitchen with me rushing after him.
“Plates?” he asks, and I point to the cupboard. “You just woke up?” he adds, looking me up and down.
I tug the robe tighter. “Erm, I must’ve fell asleep after my shower. I’ve been working a lot lately. I’ll just go and get dressed.” He nods, and I go upstairs, reeling with confusion.
I tug open my drawers and rummage through, trying to find something that’s casual but not ugly. I settle on leggings and a short vest.
When I get back downstairs, Fury is sitting at the table, tucking into a mix of Chinese on his plate. The containers are laying open on the table, and he points to my plate. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I remembered you like variety, so I grabbed plenty.”
I smile as I take a seat and begin to spoon different things onto my plate. “It’s weird,” I state, and he pauses eating to look at me. “You haven’t really changed, but at the same time, you have.”
“That makes no sense,” he replies, continuing to eat.
“You’re acting like we were never apart,” I state. And the words hit me hard as my mind conjures up a slideshow of the times I watched Reese shovel food into his mouth like he was starved. When he came to us, he would grab it up in his hands like someone was about to snatch it from him. It used to break my heart.
He stares at me for a few silent minutes. “It doesn’t feel like we were.”
I stare down at my food. “You never came to say goodbye.”
“Drink?” he asks, pushing to his feet and heading for the fridge. He retrieves two bottles of beer that I assume he brought with him.
“You still hate to talk,” I point out.
He places a bottle in front of me and unscrews the cap. “What’s there to say? It was a long time ago, and I can’t remember it.”
“Really?” I push. “None of it?”
He shrugs as he lowers back into his seat. “Tell me about your life now, Xanth.”
I sigh, hating that I’ve let myself cloud this reunion with bad memories, memories that until now, I’d managed to squash. “I’ve been nursing for ten years,” I say. “I love it.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Can you stop doing that?” I ask briskly, and he glances up again, this time placing his fork down. “You just keep firing words at me like you’re interrogating me.”
He swallows the food in his mouth. “Sorry.” And I see a glimpse of the vulnerable kid I once knew. “Habit.”
“I met someone, but it’s very early days,” I admit. “What about you and the waitress?”
He shakes his head. “We’re not a thing. She’s a . . . a club girl.”
“What does that mean?”
“She hangs around the club and spends time with the guys . . . any of them. She doesn’t belong to one particular biker.”
I wince in disgust. “Nice,” I say sarcastically.
“I don’t expect someone like you to understand,” he mutters.
I frown. “Someone like me?”
He shrugs. “Maybe this was a bad idea.” He stands, and I follow him with my eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I never wanted to leave you the way I did.”