CHAPTER FOUR
Ky - Present
Taking full advantage of the treadmill while it was quiet, I was working up a sweat, debating whether I should close the gym two hours early, since it seems the rain has kept people away. It was almost ten o’clock at night, but the gym would remain open for another two hours, giving those who worked the late shift a chance to come in if they chose to.
I should be balls deep in some willing pussy right about now, but I had cut loose the doc from Cullville since she had become a little too clingy for my liking, and the women at the club held no appeal either.
The only woman I wanted was the one working next door at the vet clinic. I haven’t been able to get her off my mind since her car broke down and we stopped to help her all those months ago. Discovering it was the same woman from all those years ago left me reeling. Was she here alone, or with her asshole husband? She had a daughter if the child in the backseat of the car was anything to go by. Shaking my head to push aside the unwanted thoughts; I cranked up the treadmill, increasing the speed to a more vigorous run.
Sending Chains home a little while ago, I’d been working him hard, and he needed to spend time with his ol’lady Zoe. I had heaps of time on my hands to think about the woman who I shouldn’t be thinking about at all, and I had a bullet hole in my shoulder to remind me of that fact.
I arrived at the warehouse that night with a group of my brothers, which included my pops Kick, who was the President of the Devil’s Carnage MC, believing everything was on the up and up.
Not realizing it was anything but.
The asshole who owned the warehouse wanted me dead; I guess he discovered I’d fucked his wife, and he thought he could sic his mountain man of a fighter on me and I’d be gone, both soon learned a valuable lesson. When the asshole couldn’t get rid of me that way, he came after me with a gun.
My brothers found me pretty quickly, getting me to the hospital in time to save my life. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for the pretty blonde woman lying in a pool of blood beside me.
Shaking my head to dislodge those memories, back then I told myself I would forget the raven-haired bitch ever existed, since she was more trouble than she was worth. I force my thoughts back to the present.
The music was low—not the pounding, blow-your-ears-off like it was during the day. Sweat was steadily pouring off me, when I heard the scream.
Spreading my legs apart to stop the machine, I listen again, thinking I may have misheard, my deep breathing in the quiet, loud even to my own ears. Switching off the treadmill, I listen, wiping the sweat off my brow with a towel.
When it sounded again, this time a little more frantic, I stop thinking and was off and running. I told myself I would do the same for whoever was in danger, and not because it was Sera. But who the fuck was I fooling with my bullshit?
Standing at the front door of my business, I look left and right. There were barely any cars in the parking lot, except for my sled and Sera’s beat-up old Toyota. My head swivels to the right when I realize the screaming was coming from her practice.
I run in that direction, uncaring for my own safety. I didn’t even have a weapon on me, but I had my fists, and whatever was happening, the asshole was about to find himself on the wrong end of them.
Throwing open the door, I make a mental note to chew the woman out for not locking the door. But what I saw made me stop in my tracks. The motherfucker had her pinned to the wall of her clinic, his massive, meaty hands around her neck, as she fought to get him off her.
Running inside, both have a look of surprise on their faces when I interrupt, catching the fucker attacking Sera off guard and punching the asshole in the face. I hear a satisfying crack and knew that it was his already crooked nose.
Blood sprays out in a gruesome display as the guy recoils, his enormous frame lurching back. But he doesn't stay down, his eyes flashing with defiance as he rises to his feet. It all got a little too real when he produces a knife, twirling it in front of me as we sway left to right. Him looking like an evil clown, with blood all over his face, me looking for something I could use to defend myself.
When he lunges at me, he nicks my arm, giving him time to run out of the clinic. I give chase, but Sera places a quick hand on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. Her touch sizzling my skin. I jerk away from her touch, noticing the dejected look on her face.
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t want you getting hurt,” she says, clearing her throat at the same time a look of indifference comes over her face.
I frown, knowing I should say something about what happened tonight, I knew instinctively it had something to do with all those years ago in the warehouse. I’d told Pops about it after my brothers had found me bleeding out from a knife wound once I was on the road to recovery. But both Angelo and Sera had disappeared in a puff of smoke, that there wasn’t any point in doing anything about it. But her fucking husband had a date with my fists if I ever got my hands on the motherfucker again.
“You’re hurt,” she gasps, motioning to my bleeding arm. Her eyes wild, the same look in them as in the warehouse four years ago.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, making to move toward the door and back to the gym. Being near her was doing stupid things to my insides. I hadn’t gotten close to her for the past six months, even though we had to collaborate closely after both our businesses went up in flames. However, I kept things cordial. After all, she had left me to die after her, whatever he was, shot me.
When I had come to, I was in the hospital, with all my brothers surrounding me. For four years I’d heard nothing from her, and now, for the last six months, here she is everywhere I turn.
The cause of the fire was still a mystery, but I had my suspicions, though I kept it to myself and didn’t tell my club brothers or my President, who was also my father. The reason for that still escapes me. Or maybe I just don’t want to admit the truth to myself?
“I can’t just leave it. Come with me,” she instructs, taking me by the hand and leading me off towards the back of the clinic.
There’s that pesky sizzle all the way up my arm again, and I fight not to pull back as I follow, my eyes glued on the lush globes of her ass encased in figure hugging jeans. Fuck no, you’re not gonna go there again with her, once was enough. A big mistake.
We arrive in one of the exam rooms, and she motions with her head to the metal bed in the middle of the room as she busies herself collecting supplies.
“Sit!” she instructs in a voice I hadn’t heard before that gets my blood pumping in my veins and my cock hardening in my jeans. I do as she says and wait for her to turn around.
I don’t miss the way her eyes scan me, taking in everything—from my dark, wavy shoulder-length hair tied back in a man bun, to the beard that covers half my face, neatly trimmed and short.
The tattoos on my tanned arms and legs on full display since I was wearing a black sleeveless tank top and matching shorts, running shoes on my feet.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask with a grin in my voice and on my face. The color in her cheeks turns beet red, wordlessly placing all the supplies she needs next to her, taking my arm in a firm grip, as she sets to work patching me up. My nostrils fill up with the scent of jasmine and patchouli. It took everything inside of me to keep seated, and to not grab for her, her tongue peeking out to moisten her full bow-shaped lips.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, without looking at me.
“For?” I ask. Mesmerized by her efficiency, even though I couldn’t stop a hiss of pain when she dabbed alcohol onto the cut.
“Helping me with the thug,” she answers, placing gauze over the wound.
“We really should stop meeting like this. Wanna tell me what’s going on?” I demand curtly.
I’ve fought to keep my distance these last six months since she’s been living in Briar Creek, but being this close to her now, I don’t know how much longer I can do it.
She remains silent, swallowing anxiously, focusing all her attention on patching me up and refusing to look at me. I know she’s hiding something.
Is she in danger?
Maybe she’s hiding from her husband?
I shake my head. “I didn’t think so,” I reply, making a mental note to get in touch with Kon, my uncle. Maybe he can unravel what’s going on? Maybe he was someone I should’ve spoken to a long time ago.
She goes for indifference, but she’s not fooling me, her eyes unable to meet mine as she answers, so I know she’s not telling me the whole truth. Reminding me of the time, four years ago, when I was shot by her husband in the warehouse where I had an underground fight with one of his top fighters. Then there was the fire that destroyed both our businesses all those months ago.
She was cagey about it back then, too.
“Look, I’m grateful to you for helping me out earlier. But there really was no need, I can take care of myself,” she mumbles, sliding an errant piece of chestnut brown hair behind her ear and away from her face, as she steps back, running her palms down her thick jean clad thighs. All the while not looking at my face.
“If you say so,” I reply dryly, hopping down from the table. I reach out and snag her chin with my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at me,
“I’ll give you one more chance to come clean with me. I’m even willing to get my entire club involved for you if you’re in danger. But if you won’t tell me what’s going on, then I can’t help you, and if you don’t want my help, then I don’t see any reason for us to be in each other's orbit. Thanks for patching me up.”
Taking one last look at her, standing in front of me, I chuckle without humor before turning on my heel and walking out.
After locking up the gym, I mount my sled and rev the engine, peeling out of the parking lot. I stop a few feet down the road and wait. I didn't offer to drive her home, but I couldn't let her leave without making sure she got home safe and sound.
A few minutes later, her car drives past, and I follow at a safe distance so she can’t tell it’s me behind her.
Ten minutes later, I stop just before the house where she parks her car in the driveway, a cute house with gray wood siding and white trim, bright flowers in neat little flower beds and the lawn green and manicured—all in a quiet neighborhood.
She gets out of the car and walks up to the door, letting herself inside. When the lights turn on, I’m just about to leave when I notice a blacked-out SUV parked further along the street. Gripping my phone, I send a text to one of the prospects to come to her house ASAP.
Grudgingly, riding away from the quiet neighborhood, deciding this was something I needed to tell my dad about, I couldn’t keep silent any longer.
Needing the company of a sweet butt, since I’ve been as hard as a pike being in Sera’s presence again. Better no strings sex than starting something with the doc in Cullville again.
With a sense of relief, I make my way towards the clubhouse, knowing that Sera is safe, at least for tonight.