Chapter Ten
The glamping sets at the clubhouse were being constructed, and guys were moving into them, although they looked a bit bemused by the type of lodgings being provided.
Stag was one of them, and he called it a pussy camp, but seemed to be admiring it when he thought nobody was looking.
I mean, sure, glamping isn’t your usual tent and bedroll situation, but surely they appreciated the fact that they weren’t sleeping on floors.
These ones had modified campbeds, since they were a bridge between camping and glamping, but it was better than bunking at family or friends’ houses.
“How long has that been going on?” I heard Micro ask someone on his phone as he stepped up beside me to oversee things.
I watched my team set up the last set, and half listened to Micro. I ascertained that he was talking to Reacher, but whatever it was about was beyond me. Something bad was my guess.
“Has he spoken to Lissa about it?... PTSD? Fucking hell. No matter what I do it’ll never be enough to make up for everything.” I side-eyed him, catching the slump in his shoulders, and the clench of his free fist. Definitely something bad.
“He’s what? NO. Fucking hell, he’s not been patched in that long.
There has to be a solution.” He wandered away again, still arguing over whatever it was with Reacher, but it wasn’t my business, so I helped unpack the last of the ‘furnishings’ and asked the driver to wait while we checked the last one was complete.
Micro returned, no longer on his phone, but that stress was still in every aspect of him, from his grim features, to the tension in his posture.
“Trouble?” I asked finally, because it was weird not to address it, since he knew I’d heard part of the conversation.
He groaned, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets.
“Yeah. Isn’t there always?”
“I’m sure it’s fixable. It’s family, right?”
He turned to stare at me face-on, and was I about to get a faceful of crap for prying? I probably deserved it for eavesdropping, and poking my oar in.
“Yeah. You know what? You’re right. Fuck me. You’re right.” He dug his phone back out and dialled someone as he walked away, and okay, just don’t tell me. Whatever.
I turned back to watch as Stag stepped back out of his new accommodation, instantly forcing the smile from his face.
“All good?”
He shrugged. “It’s alright. I mean, it’s good of you to help out… Prospect.”
Yeah, that’s getting old fast. Still, I couldn’t help but be amused by how he tried to hide his pleasure in moving in.
The temporary housing was still tents, but top of the range ones, with large living spaces, and a bunch of home comforts.
He wasn’t sleeping on the ground, or in a fucking cardboard box, right?
“You’re welcome.”
I turned to see the driver off, and returned to the gate. My fucking home for weeks now. And god knows how many more of them.
As the hours passed, I welcomed several brothers back through the gates, as they transported some of their belongings and moved into the setups I’d provided.
They were all off to the far side, well away from the building works, all carefully cordoned off and safe.
For a bunch of ragtag biker guys, the safety rules were all being strictly followed, which was a relief because I didn’t think anyone here was medically trained.
That was probably something that needed to be rectified, but Micro clearly had enough on his shoulders right now.
I sent a text off to Glory to see how things were back at home.
I liked having her at home. In my home. It could be our home, and I know that was me projecting my wants here, but it’d be amazing.
I could picture her cooking with me, and us sitting together to eat, to watch movies, kissing, going to bed together-
“Daydreaming on the job, prospect?”
I blinked a few times, shaking myself free from the wishful thinking, and darting a quick glance down to make sure those last few thoughts hadn’t made me embarrass myself.
“I’m not gonna ask,” Micro said, his grin a surprise after the stress of earlier today.
“Probably best. Want me to do a coffee run or something? This is boring.”
He laughed, gesturing to my ride, today’s being the Bandit.
“You’re gonna balance that shit on your ride? Food is easy, a tray of drinks? You’re insane.”
Yeah. Probably a fair point.
“Besides, the temporary setup is still doing okay.” He gestured to the table with the coffee machine and hot water urn, and a fuckton of mugs, used and clean.
“Yeah.” I grimaced because that stuff was not the kind of coffee I preferred, but that’s the ‘snob’ in me, as has already been pointed out.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. You made me realise my head was up my ass earlier, and there was a solution to my problem.”
Yeah, the problem I had no idea about. “I mean, I barely did anything, but you’re welcome.”
He grinned again. “No, seriously, you helped. Big time.”
I felt the smirk cross my face, and I know he knew what was coming. A man has to try though, right?
“Big time enough to knock a few weeks off my prospect term?”
“Weeks?” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, but I already knew the fucker was going to say no, so just say it, right?
“Two weeks?”
He laughed. “One?”
Holy shit, seriously?
“For reals? A week knocked off?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You helped me and a future brother, man. This is the least I can do.”
“Two would be more effective in thanking me for my service,” I suggested with a laugh, and there was the expected middle finger.
“But one’s great, thanks.”
He nodded and checked the time on his phone. “We’ve got Rocket back in half an hour, so can you hold out ‘til then to get yourself some posh coffee?”
Oh look. I’ve got a middle finger too. He laughed and headed off to check on the brothers moving in.
It gave me a real sense of pride and achievement to see my glamping setups here on the club grounds, helping the club out.
Wow. I should have tried for more weeks off my sentence, but maybe I could try that later by getting them to big it up.
Not Stag, obviously. I liked the guy, but he had a serious attitude problem and no sense of gratitude.
Glory had never replied to my text, or the two that followed, nor did she answer my call, so by the time I was heading home, I was breaking limits and pushing my luck, because something was clearly wrong.
She wasn’t in the living room, or responding to my voice, so I figured the logical place to look was what she’d started calling my ‘panic room’.
It was a man cave, but definitely somewhere she could hide out, and that’s where she was.
Curled up asleep on the sofa with a blanket around her, the TV silent, and you know what?
I took a moment to be a complete creeper, watching her sleep so soundly, her face rested and at peace.
No sign of the anxiety she showed all the damn time.
Of course, waking up to a face leaning over you isn’t that great for anxiety. Or my nose. She punched me as she screamed and scrambled away from me, and I fucking deserved it.
Glory
It took me a good thirty seconds to realise I was safe, and that it wasn’t Sean hovering over me, but it did beg the question, why the hell was Nate leaning over me like that?
“What… why were…”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just-”
“Being a creep?”
He snorted, lowering his hand from his face to check for blood.
“I like to think of it as checking on you.”
He could be so cute sometimes, but I wasn’t ready to smile just yet.
I was still waiting for my thudding heart to slow down, and the tremble in my hands to dissipate.
I couldn’t remember what I’d been dreaming about, but waking up to someone hovering over me like that had chased away any good feelings the dream would have left behind.
“Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head, testing his nose again with his fingers, checking their tips for blood.
“You got me good, sweetheart. Nice right hook.”
I used the sofa to drag myself up and hurried around it to get to him.
“I’m sorry! Oh my god. Did I break it?”
Nate started chuckling. “Aw so cute. No, you didn’t break it, but it hurts like a bitch. Have you done that before?”
I lowered my fingers before I even risked touching his skin. His question burned in my chest. Had I done that before? No, how I wished I had. How I wished I’d hit back that first time, so Sean didn’t take my acceptance of it as a template for our future.
“Glory,” Nate whispered, catching my fingers mid-air and squeezing them.
“It’s not like you could have fought back. He would have done more damage. But…” he glanced at the corner of the room and took a deep breath, “but I can help you learn now, so you’re never in that position again.”
Help me learn? He was staring at the mostly empty part of the downstairs space, it was to the side of the pool table, and pinball machine. It was… unused space.
He shot me a grin, tugging me along with him to that area, which I now realised was larger than it looked, and had soft padded flooring.
“This is my uh… like, when I want to run through moves and stuff, I do it here.”
“Moves? Like dancing?”
He snorted. “Yeah… dancing someone’s face off. I do Muay Thai, Glory. It’s a martial art, and it means I’m never caught out by an attacker.”
“Like that’s really a threat for someone like you.”
He hesitated, his eyes narrowing at me. “A biker, you mean?”
“A man.”
“Men get attacked and beaten on too, Glory. Men can be victims of assaults too. You don’t know this, because you were away with him already, but I got bottled in a bar, and nearly lost my eye.
” He pointed now to the small scar I’d noticed beside his left eye.
Small, but noticeable enough that I’d fixated on it at times, wondering what happened, because he didn’t have it when I knew him.
“Oh my god!”
Nate shrugged, self-consciously lowering his long hair over the side of his face again.
“Doesn’t matter. It was a wakeup call. Be strong. Get stronger. Don’t get caught out. I don’t go around attacking people, but nobody gets the jump on me now.”
A giggle erupted, despite the subject of our conversation, as I glanced back at the sofa.
“But I did.”
His lips twitched as I faced him again, and then he started to chuckle good-naturedly.
“You sure did, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”
Proud. He was proud that I hit him. He was proud that I injured him.
Sean would have broken something for having the audacity to strike back, even though I’d wished I’d tried.
Sean would have seen it as something to beat out of me, but Nate?
I think he wanted to nurture it. To help me expand on it.
To become more capable and strong. Suddenly, like he’d seen inside my head and my heart before me, I knew it was exactly what I wanted.
What I needed. To be strong. To know that I can defend myself.
“Teach me something. Teach me something I can do to him.”
Nate grinned. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
He wasn’t getting it though. It terrified me to say the next words, but I had to do it. I had to do this to take back my power from that monster.
“No, teach me something I can use on him when he attacks me.”