Chapter Sixteen ABBIE
I don’t know how Bluff manages to absorb the punch and not drop me on my ass, but he slowly lowers me to my feet, his arm still wrapped around my waist. He faces Ark, eyes cautious but unrepentant. “Settle down, brother.”
“Settle down?” Ark looks like he’s just been hit by an electric shock. “Are you fucking insane?”
I can feel Bluff’s wince, like a tremor through our bond, but he doesn’t move to defend himself when Ark draws his fist back a second time.
Ark’s dominance is like a rockfall sliding downhill, ready to engulf us both, but he jerks to a stop as I hurl myself between them. “Leave him alone! It’s not his fault!”
Ark’s furious gaze drops to mine, his scent like scorched tar in my lungs. “Step aside, Abbie.”
“No! We’re scent matches, okay? You can’t hit him for this.”
Pitt has been looming behind me, ready to leap in, but now he makes a choking sound. “You’re what?”
“He tried to stay away.” I turn and give Pitt a beseeching look, my heart sinking as his hand wraps tightly around Bluff’s bicep. “We only met a couple of times, and he fought it. This wasn’t planned, but if you’re going to yell at him, then you have to yell at me, too.”
Something that looks a lot like hurt flashes in Ark’s eyes. “Is that why you came back to the club? For him?”
He spits the word, and I swallow hard as I turn back to Pitt.
I won’t stoke Ark’s anger, but I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done, either.
I hate to see the confusion in Pitt’s green eyes, though.
“You know why I’m here. I came for Wings, but also for us.
To see if we could make it work. And Bluff is part of that now. ”
Pitt studies me for a long, tense moment, then offers a jerky nod. “We need to talk about this, obviously, but what’s done is done…”
“This is a long way from being done!” Ark growls, his dominance swelling until I can feel it biting into my skin. “Do your fucking job, Pitt. I want him gone. Now!”
I can’t hold back a strangled cry, images of incinerators flashing through my mind. When he says gone, he doesn’t mean gone… does he? “Wait, Ark! He didn’t do anything wrong…”
Ark whirls on me, his jaw clenched so tight, I can see the bone jutting against his tanned skin. “He did everything wrong, and he damn well knows it.”
“Wrong for who, Ark?” Bluff asks quietly, his hand still resting gently on my hip.
He’s tense, but there’s no aggression in his scent, and I wonder if he smells as honey-sweet to Ark as he does to me.
Does that make it worse? I don’t know what to say to calm him down, but he’s not looking at me anyway.
All of his aggression is focused on Bluff as he says, “I’d apologize, but it feels exactly right to me. ”
The sound that comes out of Ark makes my heart thud, but relief washes over me as Wings pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
He takes in the scene with wild eyes, but they soften as they land on the bite mark on my neck.
I don’t think twice as I pull him towards me, his dark chocolate scent swirling around me like a comforting balm. “Um, well, so this happened.”
“It sure did,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to feather a finger over my swollen scent gland. I have no idea what it looks like, but I’m guessing it’s a pretty impressive bite because Wings shakes his head as he looks at Bluff. “Kind of fucked up my ink, dude.”
“Too pretty to resist.”
Wings snorts, but his smile fades as he glances at Ark. Before he can say anything, Patch arrives, his professional face in place as he assesses the scene. “Okay. Let’s try to calm down everyone. First off, was this consensual?”
There’s a strained silence, and I almost roll my eyes as I exclaim, “Yes! One hundred percent.”
Ark’s head snaps in my direction, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “I didn’t consent. This is my club, and you’re mine to protect.”
I don’t know if I want to lay a comforting hand on his chest or hit him up the side of his head, but he’s already jerking a hand at Pitt. “Lock him up. I don’t care how long it takes, but he’s gonna learn to regret his shitty lack of control.”
Bluff stiffens at my side, but I keep my focus on Ark. “You’re overreacting. Can we please talk about this?” I glance around at all the curious faces. “Somewhere private, maybe?”
“Good time to think about that,” he snarls, then whirls on the gathered crowd, his dominance like a fist. “Everyone into your rooms! The fucking party is over!”
I try to follow Bluff, but Pitt stops me with a look. “You need to let Patch check your bite. Let me handle this.”
He doesn’t need to gesture towards Ark’s retreating back to explain himself.
As the Sergeant-at-Arms, Pitt is responsible for maintaining discipline between the members and enforcing club rules, and there’s no getting past the fact that Bluff and I just made his job that much harder. “I’m sorry, Pitt.”
He cocks a brow at me, and I can taste his swirling emotions in the air.
There’s still a protective gleam in his eyes, but there’s confusion and hurt, too.
I bite my lip, knowing I need to fix this, but right now, my instincts are screaming at me to prioritize my mate.
I can try to explain myself to Pitt later, but Bluff is in very real danger, and I clutch Pitt’s arm before he can step away.
“I need you to know that Bluff didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do.
Don’t let Ark take it out on him because he’s pissed we didn’t ask his permission. ”
Pitt stares down at my hand for a moment, then drags in a slow, ragged breath. I can almost see him packing his own feelings away, his focus back on the club, on his role as enforcer and the president’s right hand. “I’ll talk to Ark, Abbie. But that’s gonna be a hard pill to swallow.”
I open my mouth to object, but Bluff catches my eye and shakes his head.
The left side of his face is starting to swell, and every instinct tells me to step closer to him, to burrow into his chest so that his arms can wrap around me and I can soothe away his pain.
But I’m still clutching Pitt’s arm and he’s still restraining Bluff.
We’re a lopsided triangle, and I don’t know how to navigate the sharp angles that separate us.
“This is about more than permission,” Bluff says slowly, his hand lifting to smooth a curl behind my ear.
The brush of his fingers sends a knee-weakening shiver through me and his gaze drops to my lips, his eyes darkening to a midnight black.
“It’s the only way it was ever gonna go, but the when and where is on me.
I knew how Ark was gonna react, and I did it anyway. ”
I have to bite back a groan, my agitation growing despite Wings’ comforting hand on my back. “I don’t want you to leave. If Ark kicks you out…”
“He won’t,” Pitt says shortly. “This is club business, and once he’s calmed down, he’ll remember he wants you both here.”
I try to feel reassured by that, but the air is thick with alpha aggression, and it’s wreaking havoc with my nerves.
Plus, there’s Ark’s threats still lingering in my ears, and I can’t make myself turn away.
How can I trot off for a checkup when I don’t know if my mate will be tossed out of the clubhouse, or even worse?
“You have to protect him,” I tell Pitt, squeezing his arm, the distress in my scent burning my nose.
“I’ll get checked over if I have to, but then I’m coming to find you. I’m trusting you with this, Pitt.”
Bluff’s mouth softens into a smile, like he thinks my concern is sweet but unnecessary.
I’m not sure if I want to take comfort from that or shake some sense into him, because his face is still swelling.
I also can’t ignore the strain lines around Pitt’s eyes.
I know I’m pulling him in two directions, but I hold his gaze, my heart thudding erratically. “Please, Pitt. Do this for me.”
He finally offers a stiff nod. “I’ll take care of it. Just get yourself sorted out, Abbie.”
Abbie, not butterfly. But I guess that makes sense, since it’s the enforcer staring back at me, and not the man who’s sharing my bed.
He gestures to Patch, who puts a firm hand under my elbow.
I blink at how quickly Pitt slips out of my grasp, the fragile bond in my chest protesting as Bluff is towed away.
Claiming bites are supposed to be followed by lots of physical contact, along with some very dedicated aftercare.
Instead, I’m being steered towards Patch’s clinic, which is the last place I want to go.
“You should be treating Bluff, not me,” I tell him as Wings falls into step beside me. I clutch his hand, some of my anxiety easing as his fingers thread through mine. “I’m fine, but Ark hit him really hard.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Patch says, hurrying me along. “Bluff has a hard head.”
“But he’s been injured before.” I think of the scar on his face, and the way he sounded when he told me he got his brains scrambled in the desert. “Ark’s an asshole for hitting him like that.”
Patch clicks his tongue at me, “He’s just processing. Give him a chance to catch up.”
By smacking Bluff around some more?
How is that going to help anyone?
I don’t give voice to my sour thoughts, since I’m not completely oblivious to Ark’s feelings.
He’s been trying to get us both back to the club for a while, and now that we’re here, we’ve thrown a public claiming into the mix.
Not to mention, broken up a Flyers’ party in a fairly spectacular fashion.
“Are you really okay, Abbie?”