Chapter Ten ABBIE #2
I nod, but the next moment Ark is unlocking the door and we’re stepping into a huge room, or at least by club standards.
There’s a king-sized bed against the far wall, flanked by matching nightstands, all in a buttery, golden oak.
There’s a rose velvet loveseat under the bay window, draped with an indigo throw and a couple of tasseled cushions.
The comforter on the bed looks soft and expensive and has the same deep jewel tones as the lampshade and the hand-stitched rug on the floor.
The overall effect is more like an omega’s sanctuary than an alpha’s den, and I turn to Ark in surprise.
“Wow. Do all the suites look this good?”
He shrugs, not quite meeting my eyes. “New clubhouse, new layout. If there’s something missing from the old place…”
“God no.” I peel off my jacket and drift over to the bed, running a hand over the jade green comforter. “This is amazing. Thanks, Ark.”
“Glad you like it.” He sounds brusque, and when I glance back at him, he’s already heading towards the door. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of if you want to get settled in.”
He’s gone in a wave of crushed violets, and I raise a brow at Wings. “Did I say something wrong?”
He shakes his head, but he releases a long, drawn-out breath as he nudges me onto the bed. I fall back happily, admiring the silky texture of the comforter as Wings kicks off his boots and pulls off his cut. “Finally got you where I want you, butterfly.”
I prop myself on my elbows, preening at the way his gaze slides down and pools on my chest. “You think this wasn’t my master plan?”
“Great minds think alike.” He smirks as he climbs up beside me, hooking an arm around my hips and pulling me close. With his other hand he cups my face, his thumb rubbing gently over my scent gland. “How does it feel? You okay being back here, or is it too much?”
“You mean the little I saw between the front door and this bed?” I snort, wondering if that was Ark’s version of a tour, or if he was just too busy to hang around any longer.
For someone who proclaimed to want me back in his clubhouse so badly, he didn’t exactly linger.
“It was fine. What about you?” I glance up at Pitt, who’s standing at the end of the bed and watching us.
“Some of those alphas out there looked pretty surprised by your calming bite.”
Wings gives my hip a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve taken care of it.” I raise my brows at him and a hint of color stains his cheeks. “From last night. I smell enough like Pitt that they’ll keep their distance.”
I bite my lip, memories of our steamy shower rushing back. Pitt chuckles at my expression and I smirk at him. “You really are being useful, aren’t you?”
“I’m here to serve,” he says with a surprisingly elegant bow.
The cut should make it look ridiculous, but it actually does the opposite, and I’m still blinking at him when he jerks his head at Wings.
“We should probably go take a walk around the quad before we go to work. Give the fuckers time to come up and ask their stupid questions.”
Wings groans but then leans down to give me a quick kiss. “I should get this over with. I’m kinda behind on some projects at work.”
“Of course. Want me to come with you?” I slide my hand under his cut, over the butterflies etched on his chest. “A united front?”
“You should probably stick your head in Ark’s office first.” He gives me a look I can’t quite interpret. “It’s two doors down from the kitchen.”
“Didn’t we already do the meet and greet?”
He shrugs. “There’s some formal stuff he probably needs to get through.”
“Okay.” Maybe he just wants to give me the Flyers 2.0 handbook so he can say he covered all his bases. “I guess I can stop by after I unpack.”
Pitt leans down and presses a quick kiss to my temple. “Keep some space in your panty drawer for me, butterfly.”
The little patch of skin tingles, and I drop back on my hands, giving him an arch look. “You’re assuming I brought any.”
“Well fuck.” He props his hands on his hips, staring down at his groin. “How am I supposed to spar with this in my pants?”
His tight black boxers, soaked from the shower, spring to mind and I grin. “I can give you a demonstration tonight, if you like.”
I can hear Pitt groaning all the way down the hallway, but Wings lingers while I lift my duffel onto the bed.
For a moment I wonder if I’ve overstepped with Pitt, but he pulls me into his arms, nuzzling my hair.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Abbie, but if this doesn’t work out, I’ll walk away. My home’s with you, not a clubhouse.”
My heart melts as I grip him tighter. “Same, Wings. No matter what happens, it’s you and me.”
His kiss is so full of devotion, I’m still pressing my fingers to my lips as I pull my brother’s jacket back on and head to Ark’s office.
I tap on the second door down from the kitchen, breathing in the leather and violet scent that’s soaked into the wood.
When he tells me to enter, I brace myself and step inside.
The room is simply furnished, with a mahogany desk in front of a large window, and a set of mismatched leather armchairs around a coffee table, currently buried under paperwork.
There’s a well-worn sofa against the wall, and a sideboard with a selection of liquor bottles, most of which look untouched.
It’s not exactly the lair of the smug new president, and I wonder if Ark is still trying to find his feet in the role.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly. “Wings said you might want to talk to me about some official stuff.”
“Come in. You okay to sit, or do you want me to move…” He waves a hand at the coffee table overflowing with paperwork. “There’s a couch under there somewhere.”
“This is fine,” I reply, perching on his visitor chair. “You look good behind that desk.”
“Oh?”
So much weight in a single crook of his brow. “I just mean I remember going into your dad’s office and almost peeing myself because I was so intimidated.”
A ferocious scowl settles on Ark’s face, and he leans back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “I burned all his furniture the week he died. Poured all his expensive whiskey on it and fanned the flames with his cut before tossing that on as well.” He blinks, the savagery in his eyes giving way to something softer.
“I don’t have great memories of that office, either, but I’m sorry he ever put you through that. ”
I give him a sympathetic smile, because despite our many differences, Ark and I also have a few things in common. “Families are complicated, right? Especially in an MC.”
“Mmm. The Taylor name still carries a lot of weight around here, but we need to talk about the rest.”
“Prospect, hangabout, or sweetbutt?” He frowns at me, but I shrug. “They’re what’s on offer, right? If an omega isn’t claimed, I have to be one of the three.”
His scowl is back, less ferocious but still brimming with displeasure. “You’re a legacy, Abbie, not a prospect or a fucking hangabout. You have automatic membership.”
“Really?” I get that he’s pissed, but I’m the one who had to live by the club’s archaic rules. “I remember your dad and his cronies being pretty vocal about their views on omegas and membership.”
“There’s still some of that,” he admits, his scowl giving way to a tired expression. “I don’t always have the majority at church.”
“And you’ve still done all this? That’s impressive, Ark.”
The compliment surprises him, and he sits up straighter. “We’re getting there, but there’s still a lot to do. And more importantly, there’s a lot at stake if we get it wrong.”
He glances at the door behind me, then gets up to shut it.
I stiffen, especially when he perches on the desk beside me instead of returning to his seat.
“The Vipers were heavily involved in omega trafficking. They hid it behind an employment agency, but they were scooping unbonded omegas off the street and selling them to the highest bidder.”
I grimace, since this is the kind of club business that kept me away for years. “Ark…”
“I get it. It’s vile, and the fact that we patched Vipers into the Flyers is one of the worst things this club ever did.
” His dark eyes bore into mine, and as much as I want to look away, I can’t.
Ark has always been hard to ignore, but his fury makes him mesmerizing.
“I shut that shit down as soon as my old man started to slip. We took care of his support base in the next few weeks, and most of the Vipers took off.”
“Not all of them, though.”
“No. Jackpot claims he was only involved in their legitimate nightclub businesses, but he heard a lot. He knew the key players in the supply chain, where they operated from, and their distribution channels. He’s been acting as a spy in their network, feeding us intel so we can raid the warehouses and brothels whenever we get a chance.
We bring them here, and Patch does what he can to help them.
Sometimes they stay, sometimes they leave of their own accord. ”
So many questions are swirling through my head, but I settle on the obvious one. “Lyla?”
“She was one of our first.”
“Holy shit.” I’m impressed, but I’m also concerned.
I’ve seen trafficking victims firsthand, and it’s always shaken my faith in humanity.
“It’s amazing what you’re doing. Obviously.
But it’s also a really good way to make enemies.
I know you were a soldier, Ark, but the gangs who run those rings are brutal. ”
Something dangerous flickers through his eyes. “It’s worth it.”
“I agree.” I have the names and faces of victims permanently etched on my brain, after all. “If there’s any way I can help…”
A rare smile softens his face. “Thanks, Abbie. We can always use help, but in your case, it could make a lot of difference.” As he leans over his desk to open a drawer, the edge of his cut knocks a picture frame over and when I pick it up, my breath catches.
Ark is wearing desert camos and full military gear, his arms slung around two other men.
My brother Samson is on the left, his head tilted as he squints into the sun, while the other guy is either Bluff or his identical twin.
The same midnight black eyes, the long dark hair, but no scar on his face. No slightly feral curl to his lips…
“That was Syria,” Ark tells me quietly.
I’m gripping the frame so tightly, I can see white spots on my fingernails, and I have to force myself to place it back on his desk. “Samson and… Who’s the other guy?”
“Ridge Connors. Bluff was his call sign, because he had the best poker face in the unit.”
I swallow down that piece of knowledge like it’s honey-coated glass. “Samson knew him?”
“They were friendly. This wasn’t long before…”
“Samson died.”
“Mmm. Which is why I wanted to give you this.” He holds something out in front of me, and I blink furiously, trying to focus on the gleam of metal. “He always said he wanted me to pass them onto you if you came back to the club.”
I stare numbly at the military dog tags swinging on a long silver chain. “But not before?”
“He wanted you to have choices. The last mission he was sent on was a clusterfuck, and it changed a few things for him.” He sighs, sorrow etched on his face. “He worked out that loyalty didn’t always go both ways. He didn’t want you pulled back into the club because of memories of him.”
I nod numbly, too choked up to speak. The fact that my brother was thinking about me softens an ugly edge in my heart.
There’s still a lot of hurt there, mingled with other wounds from my family, but I duck my head, pulling my hair aside so Ark can slide the chain around my neck.
He hesitates for only a second, his fingers warm and rough as they brush my nape.
When he’s done, I grip the tags in my hand, my head bowed until I know my eyes aren’t going to betray me.
“Thanks, Ark,” I murmur, getting to my feet. “Um, I’d like to hear more about them.” I nod at the picture on his desk. “I mean Samson, obviously, and what it was like over there. If you can find the time…”
“Whenever you want,” he says quickly, also rising to his feet. “You should know how much you meant to him. To both of us.”
I nod, feeling a sliver of guilt settle in my chest. I don’t know what to do with it, or if Ark would even care that my thoughts have strayed to the third man in that picture on his desk.
I’m here for Wings, and I’m prepared to mend bridges with Ark, but I also want to make sense of the connection I feel with the club’s elusive VP.
How did Janice put it? Scent matches usually find their way back to each other. The bond is too strong to stay away.
“Make yourself at home, Abbie,” Ark says when I reach the door. “And if there’s anything you need, let me know and I’ll make it happen.”