Chapter 10 #2
“Prez isn’t available.” Bane takes another bite of the wrap, and when he’s finished chewing, he adds, “And I sent Liam away because I’m staying with you.”
Fuck. No.
“You’re the VP; you don’t have time to oversee your captive.” My throat is thick as I try not to panic. With Bane, everything is more…unmuted, harder to control.
“I’ll make time.”
“Why?” I demand harshly. The spike of emotion in that one word takes us both by surprise.
I’m doubling down on the need to get away from Bane while he looks oddly pleased.
He sets the last part of his wrap on the counter and steps closer. I step back, needing distance between us.
“So skittish, little one,” he murmurs. His big hand lifts and he gently cups my cheek.
I jerk like I’ve been scalded by a splash of burning oil.
However, for some strange reason, my feet remain rooted to the spot.
I stay frozen in place, staring up at him.
That pressure feeling expands inside me as the emotions push against their constraints, and the screams in my head are getting louder, but I’m still unable to move.
It’s like I’m under some kind of toxic spell that the dark look in his eyes is spinning.
Flashes of Number Fourteen’s death fill my head, and the guilt of his death and that he had to die for me to have a chance to be free, bursts forth. There’s a roar in my head as the screams fill it.
It’s like I’m outside of my body, looking down at the scene—Bane’s large body compared to my small one, his callused hand cupping my cheek. My hand trembles as it lifts and lays over his.
Bane’s eyes shift to look at my hand covering his, and I can only describe his look as almost-tender. But then it hardens as he stares at my hand that wears my simple wedding band, and he snatches his hand away.
I almost stagger forward when he moves back so quickly from me. But with the loss of his physical touch, I’m able to regain control and push everything back down where it needs to stay. The pressure within me eases, as do the screams and images.
What the fuck was that?
Losing control of repressing everything is one thing, but the fact that I didn’t completely spiral out of control is something else entirely.
Bane fists his hand that had been cupping my cheek moments before. “Where is your husband?”
“What?” I’m confused by the malice in his tone. Then, I shake my head.
I don’t have time for this shit. If that little interlude into…whatever the fuck that was is any sign, then I need to get out of here now more than ever.
“I need to speak to Ash.”
“I told you, he’s unavailable.”
“Then make him available. I need to leave.” I feel like I’m going insane, repeating this statement over and over again. “Not in an hour, not tomorrow. Now.”
A look passes over his face that I can’t decipher. His jaw is set, his eyes are hard and guarded.
“I’m bad for the Havoc Guardians, Bane. I know you know that.
” He remains maddeningly silent, so I continue, “As the VP, it’s your job to make Ash see that he needs to set aside whatever misguided promise he thinks he needs to stand by and remember that his priority is the Havoc Guardians.
Nothing good will come from you making me stay here. ”
He swipes a hand over his face, and when I see his expression afterward, it’s as unemotional as mine. “You stay put. Now, tell me why you didn’t come down for supper last night. You didn’t eat anything yesterday.”
I gape at him. That’s what he wants to talk about after I stated my case?
“Answer me, little one.”
“Stop calling me that,” I snap as anger heats my skin.
I kill the emotion.
God fucking dammit, this man…
Again, he looks pleased. “Alright. No ‘little one’.”
I relax.
“Answer me, baby.”
An inferno flares to life, and I feel like my skin might spontaneously combust. This time it isn’t anger but lust—potent, toxic lust.
“That. Is. Not. Better,” I grit through clenched teeth.
His thumb drags over his bottom lip, and I force myself not to stare at his lips and how the scruff highlights them, making them appear fuller.
He’s a biker, you asshat. You’re not interested in him, even if he’s an insanely hot demi-god. He’s a manwhore, just like your dad.
That throws a bucket of ice water on my raging-to-life pussy.
I need to redirect the conversation to safer territory and decide to answer his question. “I didn’t come down for supper last night because the Club Pussy is in charge of the food, and I’m not eating anything they make.”
He cocks his head to the side, assessing me. “Why? Cherry ensures all food safety protocols and practices are followed when the Bunnies cook.”
“Do you think Beatrice and her bitch-friends wouldn’t spit or do something to the food they serve me?”
His jaw shifts while he contemplates, then he smiles. And that smile is criminal. “You’re probably right.” He picks up my plate and hands it to me, then picks up his nearly finished wrap. “So, from now on, we cook and eat together. Just you and me.”
“No,” I choke.
“Yes.”
“You can’t.”
“Next to Ash, I’m top dog here, and I assure you, I can.”
“You’re VP; that means you have business offsite. You go on runs.” I’m trying not to panic, and there’s a buzz in my head warning me that the screams are going to push forth if I don’t get myself under control.
He tilts his head, assessing me again, probably wondering how I know so much about the operations of an MC. “I was small for my age and a girl, so no one really paid much attention to me when I was a kid. I overheard a lot,” I say in a rush to explain.
The explanation doesn’t seem to please him, but he lets it go.
“We’ll meal-prep anytime I need to be away.”
He looks like this is a completely acceptable decision.
“I don’t want to be around you.” Air pushes out my nostrils in a harsh burst. “I want to leave. I need to leave.”
“And we don’t always get what we want.” The look in his eyes makes me feel like there’s more to that statement, but I’m still trying to prevent my panic from pushing forth.
“Take, for example, I’ve always wanted to choke one of my enemies with his intestines, and regretfully, I haven’t had that come true yet. ”
“Are you for fucking real right now?”
He smiles again, and it takes me a second to realize why. Emotion—incredulous frustration—has leaked into my words. He got me to emotionally react once again. And there were no screams that instantly accompanied it.
He lifts his hand and brushes my hair over my forehead, then drops his hand. “I’m very fucking real, little one.”
Words are failing me at the moment, and he walks backward, going to the other side of the island while keeping me pinned in his gaze.
“I’ll give you a bit of time to come to terms with everything.
” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses a number.
“I need you to come to the kitchen to guard Slade,” he says before hanging up without waiting for a response.
“Bane…” I’m finally able to speak. “Don’t do this.”
His jaw ticks before it relaxes. “It’s done. See you at lunch.”
Then the infuriating motherfucker walks out.