Chapter 14
CASSIDY
The drive to the clubhouse is the worst; each bump in the road feels like my head is about to explode, and there’s a sickening feeling inside of me itching to get out.
I have secrets.
Dozens of them.
So many, it sometimes feels like I’m drowning in them. They’re suffocating and all-consuming, but they’re not for the fainthearted, and sometimes, it feels easier to run from them than hit them head-on and deal with them.
Each secret is more brutal than the last, and I want to expel them all, but I don’t want Killa to look at me differently, to see me as anyone other than Cass or his little demon. The nicknames have grown on me.
It’s crazy we got them tattooed on our bodies.
Benjamin would go insane if he knew.
“What are you smiling at?” Killa asks.
“Nothing, I’m just happy.”
He eyes me skeptically, then lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. Then he exhales slowly. “Cass, listen.”
My heart sinks. “No, baby, it’s nothin’ bad.
It’s just …” He rubs his head, causing his hair to become even messier than usual, but he still looks hot as hell.
If a female did that, they’d look like they’ve been dragged through a hedge, not Killa, he looks hot.
“The clubhouse is…” He slows the truck down, and I flick my eyes over the surrounding area.
We’re on a dirt road, and ahead is a fenced-off area with a guy standing outside a huge gate with a cut on that reads, Prospect.
I glance back at Killa and see the worry forming on his face. The way a crease appears in the middle of his forehead is cute, and I long to stroke over it to reassure him.
“Wild?” I suggest.
He chokes on a laugh, then turns toward me. His eyes gleam with mirth before he quickly darts his focus back to the road. “Yeah, really fuckin’ wild, baby.”
I nod. “Gavin told me about bikers.”
“Yeah? What’d he say?” His lip twitches, and he gives the guy on the gate a nod, then we drive through into what I know is called a compound—an MC owned area that is off-limits to others.
“That you have club whores who you fuck. That your jobs are running drugs and guns. That you’re dangerous and to stay away from you.”
Killa’s eyebrows shoot up, and once he’s parked, he turns toward me. “All that shit is true, Cass.” My heart hammers in my chest at his admission, and I already feel like grabbing Noah and running. “But you know what he didn’t tell you?”
I turn my head slowly, his words captivating me.
“That we’re loyal to the bone. We protect our own.
That when we want something, we take it, consequences be damned, but we treasure it, love it fiercely, and guard it with our everything.
” His words tumble out like a promise, and I feel like he’s saying a whole lot more to me than just explaining their way of life—it’s a vow, a promise.
Then he leans forward and places a tender kiss on my forehead. Before I can comprehend his affection toward me, he hops out of the truck, rounds it, throws open my door, unclips my seatbelt, and lifts me from the seat like I’m a wounded animal.
“I’m not an invalid. I’ve been hurt worse than this in my life.”
He stiffens, his face blanches, and his jaw clenches, and I’m left wondering why? My mouth becomes dry at the change in his demeanor, and alarm bells scream at me that something is wrong. His reaction is odd. Does he think I’m referring to him cuffing me to the radiator? I’m not.
Savage pulls open the clubhouse doors, breaking my train of thought. Killa explained that although he’s the club president, everyone calls him Savage through his preference, whereas in some clubs, he would be called prez. He gives me a wink and tilts his head, beckoning us inside.
The building is old, wooden, and looks like it’s ready for a good cleaning, and when we step inside, I assess my surroundings.
To the left is a small corridor, and I can see the start of a staircase.
Straight ahead is a bar, where Stella is beaming in our direction, and to the right is a huge open space with a pool table, jukebox, and numerous wooden tables and chairs.
“Cleared the club whores out while we settle them in,” Savage says.
“’Preciate’ it.” Killa gives him a chin lift while I volley my attention between them and the room. “Don’t want Cass seeing all that. She’s been through enough shit.”
I blink.
I was hit by a car.
He doesn’t mean that, though, surely?
“Cleaned up for ’em too,” Savage tacks on, and my eyes widen.
Cleaned up? This is cleaned up?
I know I like things tidy, but the therapist says it’s a coping mechanism. It’s not. I was trained to be tidy, or the consequences were sadistic. Something else I chose not to share with the authorities.
“I think you’ll find I did that!” Stella declares. “And while I’m thankful ya’ll usin’ condoms, can I suggest disposing of them responsibly too?” She wrinkles her nose, cringing, and I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
“Quit yapping,” a huge guy chastises as he walks across the room. He wears a patch reading, Venom, Sergent at Arms.
Stella rears back. “Oh, you carry on, Venom. If you seriously think these club whores won’t pull your cum from the used condom, be my guest. Go ahead and knock them up.” She throws her arm out toward the empty space.
“She’s got a point,” Killa adds, and I flinch. He buries his face in my hair, peppering me with feathery kisses. “Don’t worry, baby, haven’t fucked a club whore since you came on the scene.”
My heart flutters.
Unable to wait any longer, my head spins from one direction to the other. “Where’s Noah?”
Killa peers down at me, and a faint smile plays on his lips. “He’s finishing a surprise for you.”
“What kind of surprise?” I can’t remember the last time I had a surprise, not one that I would like anyway, not a nice one.
“Yeah, Killa. What kind of surprise?” Venom grins in my direction.
“Shut the fuck up.” Warrior swipes at Venom. “You’ll ruin it for her.”
I glance at Stella, and she rolls her eyes, grinning.
A scratching noise draws my attention toward the floor, and my eyes bulge at what appears to be a jaguar stretching its front legs out on the wooden floor beside Venom.
I stiffen. “What the?”
“She’s a black panther, or a jaguar. Venom’s baby,” Killa explains, and I blink in amazement while watching the wild cat brush her head against Venom’s jeans. Her tail sways from side to side in a move that looks affectionate.
“Her name’s Winnie.” Venom grins, stroking her head.
“Dumb fucker thought she was a baby bear when he rescued her. He was high as a fuckin’ kite that night,” Killa mumbles into my ear, and I snort at his explanation.
“She’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“She’s my baby.” Venom crosses his arms over his broad chest, and a huge smile forms on his handsome lips, then I find myself blushing at the proud smile he sends in my direction.
Taking a look around the room, you can see why the guys mean so much to one another.
It’s clear they’re family, whether it be blood or in club name, and a warmth spreads through me at the way in which they’re accommodating not just me but Noah too.
The fact I haven’t even questioned his absence further than the explanation given is proof of how comfortable I truly feel in their presence.
“You’re one of us now, Cassidy. Noah too,” Savage states, and for the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of home.