Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DRAVEN
T he torment in McKinsey’s eyes as we rolled through town earlier today is still with me as I back my car into the garage.
We were on our way to Hershey to participate in a ride for a children’s hospital. We do several of them a year. It’s good for the community, and when people see us out and about, helping others, it’s good for our image. Not that we wouldn’t want to help raise money for kids to begin with. Overall, we are a well-intentioned club.
Even when hiccups arise along the way that need to be dealt with accordingly.
Like Delilah’s father and Drew Sullivan.
And like the Rojas Cartel, who I don’t know we’ll ever be able to shake.
Though my bike is still out of commission for the next few days, I wanted to go to share my support. It was also a good chance to network with members of some of the other clubs in and around Pennsylvania.
The fact that I saw the doc on the way was an added bonus, even if she did appear to be distraught.
She was sitting outside of Bastien’s with two of her girlfriends, looking pained. I’ve never been so happy to have tinted windows. She couldn’t see me as my eyes locked onto her. She missed the way I winced in pain when my cock hardened against my zipper, thinking about how her lips felt around it last night. I studied her for a little too long based on the fact that I nearly rear-ended the car in front of me at the red light farther up the street. I ached to know why she looked so upset. I wanted to pull over and run to her. To take her in my arms and kiss away whatever was causing her distress.
Had I not woken up alone, I might have done it.
But just like after the first time we were together, she put up a wall between us, barring me from seeing the person she is when she’s not distracted by sexual urges. She may strip parts of herself away to let me in—and I fucking love those parts—but she holds on tight to the other parts that I also crave to explore.
Parts she probably talks to the girls she was with about.
I wonder if they were talking about me. About us.
Us.
I have to stop using that phrase.
Last night, I would have bet money that the earth was shifting. That a connection was being forged, and there was hope I’d found someone to share my life with—at least for a little while. But now, I’m not so sure. Maybe the doc really is in my life simply to help me heal then send me on my way. Maybe it was regret I saw on her face. Is she in misery over what happened … again?
I mentally kick myself for feeling the way I do. She told me last night she was scared. I was dumb enough to think that she could get over whatever fear she has toward being with me after only one night.
If she needs time, I want to give it to her. Which is why I haven’t messaged her today. I don’t want to spook her any more than she appeared to be earlier. And if the next time I see her she tells me it’s over—before it ever even started—I’ll leave her alone.
The group of us walk through the backyard and into the house.
“Draven, can I see you for a minute?” I’m in the house for maybe two seconds before Royce calls for me.
He and I have been on better terms since our blow up the other day, but he still seems to be treading lightly.
“Sure, what’s up?” I follow him into his office, excited that it feels like things may finally be getting back to normal.
“I wanted to talk to you about Doc Caraway.” My stomach drops. His eyes don’t meet mine as he rubs the back of his neck. Fuck. He can’t know about the doc and me. It … could fuck everything up. “How’s that going?”
I sigh with relief, thinking he just wants a therapy update.
“Good. Yeah.” I make sure my voice is firm, nodding my head to drive my point home. “She’s really been helping me.”
It’s not a lie.
I think Royce is going to drop it, but then he inhales and holds his breath for a moment before finally meeting my eyes.
He shrugs and pinches the bridge of his nose before speaking. “What are you doing, man?”
I’m fucked. So much for things getting back to normal.
“What are you talking about?”
Fucking Atticus. Of anyone, I’ve always been able to trust his loyalty. Yet it’s crystal clear that he’s been Royce’s fucking mole this whole time. I should have kept my fucking mouth shut. Fuck me and my giddy fucking feelings.
“The doc. Come on, man. Don’t play dumb with me.”
I haven’t been this enraged since I knocked my brother out. Atticus has been running his mouth about the doc… I won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect toward her.
Storming out of Royce’s office, I stomp into the kitchen in a frenzy.
“ Atticus! What the fuck, man?” Turning at the sound of my shouting, he whips around so quickly he almost loses his balance. Good. Grabbing his shirt in my fists, I pull him closer to me as the rest of our brothers fight to get us away from one another. “You fucking told Royce about her?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t say shit about shit to anyone!” The clueless look on his face morphs into disappointment the longer our eyes stay on one another.
Firewall grabs me in a headlock as Rocco and Zephyr each take hold of Atticus’s shoulders. The strength of the three of them pulling on us in opposite directions loosens my hold on him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Draven?” Firewall pulls me in front of Royce who, apparently, trailed me into the kitchen. “He didn’t say anything to me. I fucking saw the doc leaving your old room this morning.”
What? Oh, fuck.
My vision clears as my anger dissipates. Royce is pissed. I chance a glance at Atticus whose eyes are filled with hurt, knowing I thought he betrayed my trust. Everyone else has filtered into the kitchen and dining room at this point, all looking between us like they can’t believe another fight had to be broken up in our clubhouse for the second day in a row.
“Imagine my surprise as I’m sitting here trying to enjoy my fucking coffee when out of nowhere, who should emerge from the barracks? The last fucking person I would ever want to have unrestricted access to this fucking property.”
I swallow nervously when Royce narrows his eyes at me.
“I almost intercepted her, until I realized she was doing the fucking walk of shame back to her car before she fishtailed and sped down the driveway like she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”
Royce has a cunning way about him, knowing exactly what words to use to injure you the most. Breathing heavily, I shrug Firewall off of me.
“I didn’t know which one of you idiots was stupid enough to fuck her until I overheard Toga ask Chubbs if he knew why you stayed in your old room last night.”
My eyes shift to Toga where he’s standing across the island from me. He’s got an apologetic look on his face, but I know his question was harmless. I briefly close my eyes and try to center myself. When I open them again, I nod to let Toga know I’m not mad at him.
“Look, I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to get your dick wet again.” Delilah winces at Royce’s words. She can’t stand it when he gets like this, and I feel guilty that once again, I’m the cause of his ire. “But that’s what the Harlots are for. That doc’s loyalties and values don’t align with ours. I was desperate when I brought her in to help Delilah, but if you ask me, she’s beginning to overstay her welcome.”
My head snaps in his direction at the same time that Delilah’s hand wraps around his bicep. She likes the doc too much to allow Royce to bring any harm to her.
And now? I know for certain I do too.
If it wasn’t the mind-blowing sex or the way I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since she picked me up from jail—or since the night we met—then it’s the threat to her life rolling off of Royce’s lips that confirms it.
I’m falling for McKinsey.
Now more than ever, I’m hell-bent on making her mine.
And no one is going to get away with threatening her life in my presence.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Royce. She’s not a whore, and I’m not just getting my dick wet . You of all people should know you can’t help who you fall for. And look what almost happened to Delilah because your stubborn ass took too long to realize it.”
He snarls at me, attempting to lunge, but Delilah pulls him back. If he’s going to hit below the belt, I’ll do it right back. But I am disappointed in myself for bringing Delilah into it. Especially when she’s standing right here. It was a dick move, so I’ll have to apologize for it later.
“You better watch it.” Royce spits the words out through clenched teeth.
“No, you fucking watch it.” My stare doesn’t falter as our showdown continues. “The doc is under my protection. Off limits. Got it?”
I’m not staking a claim on her as much as I’m ensuring her safety.
It’ll be up to Kins to allow me to possess her.
As Delilah tries to coax Royce from the kitchen, he digs his feet in with an ugly grimace on his face.
“Please, Royce. Let’s go home.” Delilah’s words finally cause him to stand down, then she ushers him outside.
I lose some of my bravado once they’re gone, letting my stance relax. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I try to calm my breathing. I know I stepped over the line, just like I know the passes Royce has been giving me for my unruly behavior have just run out. He’s done letting me wallow in my grief while making piss-poor decisions.
Though choosing McKinsey will never be a bad decision.
Delilah will calm him down and help him see reason. She has Royce wrapped around her finger whether he wants to believe it or not. He just needs to come to terms with the fact that the doc isn’t any more of a threat to us now than she was that first night we ordered her here.
Looking around the room, regret catches in my chest when I meet Atticus’s eyes.
“I’m sorry. I should have known better.” Slowly walking over to him, our brothers back off. But barely—just in the event they need to step in again.
“Yeah, you fucking should have.” Atty’s nostrils are flared, his mouth set in a stern line. But only for another second before his lips spread into a grin. “Asshole.”
He claps me on the back, and finally, the remaining tension in the room dissolves.
My knees get weak the more I replay what just happened in my head. I was not counting on it getting out that McKinsey and I have been … whatevering … so soon. I debate keeping this to myself to spare her the embarrassment, but I can’t run the risk of her hearing about it from someone else—like Royce—if they decide to be a dick about it.
I have my next appointment with her tomorrow. I’ll tell her what happened then and let her decide how she wants to move forward.
But if I’m being honest, I’m afraid she’s going to realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth.