20. Candy
CHAPTER TWENTY
CANDY
“ T he hell you are,” Butch thunders, swinging my chair around to face him. He grunts like an angry bear, ready to maul anyone who challenges him.
Startled, I gawk at my biker, taking in his open hostility. This is not like Butch—he’s usually cool-headed. His anger wasn’t unexpected. I assumed Butch would be upset with me for volunteering. However, I didn’t expect him being enraged to the point of frothing at the mouth like a diseased animal.
Figures I’d be the one to bring out his rabid side.
Butch grips the armrests of my chair, caging me in my seat. He glares at me, making the gold flakes in his eyes sparkle. He’d be beautiful if it weren’t for the fact that he’s angry with me.
“You’re not volunteering for this mission,” he spits venomously.
“Butch—” I try to reason with him, but he cuts me off.
“Don’t ‘Butch’ me with your honey-laced voice and pouty lips. You’re not putting yourself anywhere near that sick fuck. Do you hear me?”
His anger is understandable. He’s concerned for my well-being. Though, his aggression and defiance are over the top. It pisses me off, catapulting me right into instant bitch mode.
“There’s no way I can ignore you when you’re spitting in my face like an incompetent dick with no control.”
Pissy and disgusted, I wipe his spittle from my face with the sleeve of my shirt, demonstrating exactly how much like a dick he is. “You need to get a grip. The team needs an inside source to work the case. Guess who has firsthand knowledge? Me.”
“No. Retract your offer,” Butch demands.
Annoyed, I cross my arms under my chest and hold my head high. “I will not.”
His nostrils flare, emphasizing his wild bear demeanor. “You will, too.”
“Will not!”
“Will, too!”
“WILL NOT!”
“HEY!” Gauge shouts over us. “Fighting isn’t helping anything.”
I push Butch out of my bubble, allowing me to get out of my chair and be more on the same eye level as him. I refuse to have him scare me into compliance like he’s some bully on the playground.
“Piero and Tank may be mafia, but I’m the only goddamn person in this club who’s been to one of these auctions and understands how this operation works. I’m a fucking brilliant actress, and I can flirt my tail off. Reality check—I need to be on this team.”
Butch’s hands fist at his sides. “No.”
“It’s not up to you,” I chide, lifting my chin at Atlas. “It’s up to Prez.”
“Dammit, Candy,” Atlas groans, running his hands down his face.
“You need me, Atlas,” I remind him.
“No, we don’t,” Butch hisses, his voice sounding strained from yelling. He rubs at his throat unconsciously, probably trying to relax his sore muscles. “We have others on the team who are pros at going undercover: Stage, Triple, Punk, etc.”
Arguing with Butch is bringing out my irrational side. It takes everything in me not to stomp my foot like a toddler. “But I’m the one who’s been at one of these auctions.”
“I’m with Candy,” Piero says, unbothered by our altercation. “We need someone who has experience with this industry.”
“I liked you better five minutes ago, when you were on my side,” Butch admits to Piero through gritted teeth. “Not anymore.”
The don sighs, putting away his cell. “I’m not picking sides. I’m picking the best members for the operation.”
“Candy can’t join the team,” Butch argues, turning to Atlas and Gauge. “She’s too close to this.”
Gauge frowns, eyeing Atlas. “I agree. It’s too risky having her close to a man who has a history of harming her.”
Butch bobs his head. “Yes. It could cause her to have a panic attack like Jo or put her body into a fight-or-flight response, like Opal when faced with her abuser.”
My head snaps back like I’ve been slapped. Saying I’d respond negatively when under pressure because other women in the club did is a massive stretch. Not to mention insulting.
Having had enough, I jab my finger into Butch’s cut over his chest. “Do not compare me to anyone else. After undergoing trauma counseling for a year, I have a damn good grip on my anxiety.”
My biker snarls in frustration. “Right? Like you didn’t almost lose it when being questioned about the brothel ten minutes ago? Everyone could see you were having a flashback.”
I scoff. “So I recalled a memory. Big deal. I shook it off.”
“A memory is one thing, but facing the person who gave you that memory is entirely another.”
True. It will be different facing a man who has hurt me. But I won’t be alone. My support system will have my back—Butch and the rest of the crew will be with me.
And besides, I’ll be facing Duffy—short, round, portly Duffy.
“It’s not like I’ll be facing Cú Sidhe. ”
Atlas, Gauge, and Piero look questioningly between themselves, muttering, “Who is Cú Sidhe ? ”
“The fucking ring leader of the Three Sadistic Amigos,” Butch barks in response.
Atlas talks into the speaker. “Chase?”
“Already searching, Prez,” Chase says back through the speaker.
“Butch,” I plead with him, “I can do this. Let me face him on my own terms.”
My biker takes me by the shoulders, his face lined with a mixture of fury and concern. “This is your guilt talking. You’re trying to make up for wronging the club a year ago. That’s in the past. You can’t undo what is already done, so stop trying to clear your conscience by interfering in this case and leave it to the pros.”
A mushroom cloud goes off behind my eyes, but my words come out slow and deliberate.
“Fuck. You.”
Butch does a double-take, possibly shocked I would speak to him with such hostility. He started it first, fucked around, and now he’s about to find out.
His words were cutting, nicking me to the core of my insecurity issues. The guilt I carry with me for working with the enemy long ago still weighs on me heavily. Yes, working on this case would show I’m worthy to be part of the Mercy Ravens MC. But it’s more than alleviating my conscience of shame. It’s about helping someone other than myself while watching Duffy get what he deserves.
To have a hand in his downfall is better therapy than any amount of counseling sessions Brandon could give me.
Holding my head high, I confront Butch head-on.
“You keep referring to me as fragile, like I’m a dandelion about to burst apart if you breathe on me. Well, guess what? I’m not that delicate. Hell, I don’t have a goddamn delicate bone in my body. Years of abuse have given me the ability to tolerate pretty much anything thrown at me. I can smile while being insulted and degraded.”
I stare at him, doing my best to rein in my anger as I say, “And I can look unaffected when being put down by the one person I thought cared about me.”
Butch’s mouth falls open. “What other reason do I have to keep you off the case? I do care.”
“Save it, biker boy. I can do more than answer some questions for the investigation. What do you keep telling me when we’re alone? Hmm?”
Butch eyes me cautiously, swallowing. He knows I’m referring to taking control.
Well dammit, that’s what I’m doing.
“I can control this situation. This team needs someone to run circles around the guy who abused me. If you cared about me, you’d want me to take the power back.”
Butch’s shoulders slump, his face crestfallen. He knows I have him by the balls. “Candy…”
Ignoring the one man I thought was on my side, I give him my shoulder and face Atlas. “If you want to bring these women home, put me on the team.”
“Candy,” Atlas tries to pacify. “I know you could work on any of these trafficking cases. But I worry about this one involving one of your abusers. What would Brandon say to you if suggested being an active member on this assignment?”
I snigger, humorlessly. “Funny you should mention Brandon. I asked him that exact question before coming into this meeting. You know what he said? He told me I know what I can handle better than anyone else can.”
The MC president’s eyebrows rise. “Brandon said that?”
“Yes, he did.”
Atlas rubs his jaw, eyeing me cautiously. “You met with Brandon before joining this meeting, asking if he thought you could handle working on this case. Meaning you came in here prepared to volunteer for this mission?”
“Yes.”
Atlas sits back in his chair. A look of awe softens his hard face. “Wow.”
“Think about it. When you realize I’m right for the role, come find me.”
Without saying another word, I leave the office. Butch is on an official timeout for the foreseeable future—until he sees the errors of his ways. If he doesn’t come around, there may not be much of a future for us. I refuse to be in a relationship where a man steamrolls over me.
With his eyes following me, I put as much distance between myself and Butch as I can.