Astrid #2
“I never gave you any indication in word or deed that I saw you as anything other than a dancer! We were never going to be together. You’re a dancer in my club’s strip club.
Our relationship is purely professional.
And Astrid had nothing to do with your spots on the schedule at work.
We never spoke about them. Yes, she has befriended Aubrielle, but so have the other old ladies.
You knew what to do if you wanted the best slots for dancing.
That’s bullshit. How do you know that man?
” Mayhem asked as he pointed to the cell with Baker in it.
“He overheard me at Eden talking to a friend of mine. I told her how Astrid was putting a wedge between us. He came over to our table, introduced himself, and admitted he’d overheard our conversation.
Then he asked if I meant Astrid Tuttle. I’d heard someone mention her last name, so I told him I thought so.
He invited me out for coffee the next morning.
We met, and he told me what she had done to his poor brother and the other pilots.
He asked if I would help him get his hands on her.
“How can you be with someone like her? She’s a whore and a murderer. She got those other pilots killed due to her negligence and treason. She should be in prison, not out here stealing you from me!” Cherisse wailed.
“Jesus Christ, do you hear yourself? Wa-wa, someone took my imaginary man, and my dancing sucks, so I blame it on someone else. Grow the hell up, Cherisse. You heard him. Mayhem was never yours, nor would he be. And you earned that demotion in your spot on the schedule at work. I heard how you spoke to some of the other dancers when I visited Aubrielle in the dressing room. You’re nasty to them, so they avoid you if they can.
“If you wanted Mayhem, you should’ve stepped up to me like a real woman, and we could’ve had it out.
But you took a coward’s way. And I had nothing to do with his brother and those other pilots being killed, other than I was with him, when the asshole refused to follow me and the plan.
He went off target and ended up getting us seen by the enemy.
When they attacked us, we had to bail. Again, Baker’s brother refused to listen to my counsel, and he got the others to follow him.
He walked us right into that enemy’s camp,” I shouted.
My words evoked a response from Baker. He kicked the cell bars, making them rattle. His glare was easy to interpret. Shit, he and Cherisse were perfect for each other. They were both off their rockers.
“You’re a liar. He had someone who knew to confirm it for him,” Cherisse snapped.
“Oh yeah, we’ll find out who that is before we’re done. Either you’ll tell us or he will,” Crusher jumped in to say.
Cherisse let out a strangled cry in the back of her throat. The next thing I knew, she broke away from Crusher’s hold and hurled herself at me. Mayhem tried to step between us, but I was having none of that. She and I had a score to settle. I sidestepped him, getting between the two of them.
“I’ll handle this,” I told my man.
As I expected, Cherisse had no clue how to fight.
She slapped at me. What that did was make me slap back, only I made contact.
I left a red handprint on the left side of her cheek.
I put power behind mine, rocking her on her heels.
I followed it up with one to the opposite side of her face. I didn’t want her not to match.
Was I enjoying myself with her? Yeah, I was. I wasn’t bound to let her win. If they planned to let her walk away, I wanted her to remember this every time she liked a guy. The guys had moved back, giving us room to fight or whatever we wanted to do.
Cherisse tried to slap me a third time. This one, I let skim off my clothed shoulder.
She had her extremely long nails pointed out like a claw.
As soon as she skimmed me, I retaliated.
It was no slap from me. Instead, I punched up under her arm, into the nerves there.
I knew I hit the right spot when her arm dropped like a stone, and she wasn’t capable of lifting it.
“What did you do to me?” she wailed as she cradled that arm.
“Declaw a spitting cat,” I replied.
Her fury flared at my answer, which I intended.
This time, she tried to punch me with the arm she could use.
I danced away from it. As she pursued me, I kicked her in the back of the thigh, hitting the sciatic nerve.
This kick produced what was commonly known as a dead leg.
She couldn’t bear weight or lift it. She partially stumbled to her knees.
“Y-you’re fighting dirty,” she stammered.
“No, I’m fighting to win, and I’ve done nothing but use my hands and legs just like you have. I’m simply introducing a new move. How is that dirty?” I asked.
Cherisse growled and tried to lunge at me from her position on her knees.
As she did, I brought up my knee, slamming it into her nose.
Her scream was loud. I swore I felt something give, and then I heard a crunch.
If her nose wasn’t broken, I’d lost my touch.
Her cries and pleas for Mayhem to protect her fell on deaf ears.
My man refused to acknowledge her. He was chatting softly with Spawn.
The other men were whispering and exclaiming over the action.
She was such an unsatisfactory opponent.
There was no fun in sparring with someone who wouldn’t even bring a fraction of their power and skill to the match.
Although in her case, I believed Cherisse had used fear to get people to do what she wanted, not physical abilities, except for slapping and clawing.
Those moves wouldn’t help her with me. Her voice hurt my ears as she moved to chanting one thing over and over.
“Mayhem is mine. Astrid stole him. She deserves to die. Mayhem is mine. Astrid stole him. She deserves to die.”
I gave up at that point in frustration. She was no match for me and had retreated into her fantasy world, chanting that phrase over and over. It made me want to make her swallow her teeth and choke on them. I left her there on the floor, chanting, and went to Mayhem.
“Babe, she’s a freaking nutjob. I can keep beating the tar out of her, but I don’t think you can make it sink in for her. She has a mental condition, Mayhem.” I explained what had solidified in my brain.
“I think you’re right, babe. Thank you for that demo. I wasn’t expecting it, but it relieved some of your stress, so I’ll take it.”
I moved over to stand pressed against him again. My knuckles were red and abraded, but they weren’t openly bleeding. The others gathered around us.
“So, what now? She doesn’t appear to be all there,” Ink asked his brothers.
There was a lot of muttering and shrugs. Finally, everyone quieted down.
“She can’t stay at Eden for sure. And even if she moves on, she’ll be one to obsess and keep popping up in your lives.
I hate that she appears to have a mental condition that isn’t normal,” Reaper added, pointing to where Cherisse was curled up, holding her knees, and rocking as she babbled about Mayhem.
“Fuck, there has to be something we can do to keep us and others safe,” Ratchet exclaimed.
“I have one. Why don’t we send her ass to the local mental hospital? In her present state, she’d pass their criteria. It would give her a chance to be cured or at least regulated,” Spawn suggested.
I had to think about it. His solution was like the one that had been whirling around my mind.
But how long would they keep her? There was no guarantee she’d even be admitted.
Or that she would be gone for a few years and get real help.
But it was the best option. Death wasn’t warranted in my book.
The more I mulled it over, the better it sounded. I faced my man.
“Can we do that? It’s the only solution I have. I agree with Spawn. Having her evaluated and cured is preferable to me, despite the number of risks,” I confessed to the whole club.
“There’s a chance they won’t admit her or keep her there, but I have to agree. Spawn, out of curiosity, when you checked her background, did you find any family or close friends we should contact?” Maniac asked.
“She has parents, a sister, and a brother on the other side of the state, but from what I found, they’re estranged,” Spawn replied.
“She’s probably pulled shit like this for years, and they got tired of the drama,” Diesel speculated.
“If we hand her over to the cops, it’s her word against ours. She would likely get off or have a minimal punishment like a fine,” Lash murmured.
“And she hasn’t done enough to be killed for it,” Reaper added, his gaze looking over to Mayhem. I was watching my man’s face.
Mayhem wasn’t happy, but he nodded. “As much as I hate to agree, you’re right about the last two options. She needs help. Are you satisfied with her physical punishment, or do you want to educate her more?” he asked me.
“I’d like to beat her ass all over this place, but in her current mental condition, it’s pointless. We have someone bigger and more important to deal with. I say leave her as-is and do whatever is needed to get her admitted to the nearest mental facility.”
“Agreed,” Mayhem said.
The rest of the club nodded, gave chin lifts, or murmured their agreement.
With this decided, Crusher went to her. He had to carry her back to her cell.
She kept laughing, swearing, and chanting about how Mayhem was hers.
She curled up on the floor, facing away from us. I had a twinge of sympathy for her.
Then, my blood surged because it was time to deal with Baker. I wanted to hear from his lips who told him my name, where I was, and shared partial details about the mission. For what he did and planned to do to me, I wanted him to feel pain.