Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty Three
Naomi
We moved our girls’ night to a girls’ day because of the dinner tonight.
Ari and Cassi didn’t mind at all, and it was really nice to finally talk to them about everything that’s been going on.
I mean, I kept some of the details vague—I know better than to disclose the whole murder part of how Kolter and I got together.
I’m honestly impressed how casual I feel about the whole thing, though I’m pretty sure that makes me a horrible person.
The man was mentioned on the news the other day actually—an appeal for any information about his whereabouts, with a sobbing woman and a little girl in the background.
My stomach soured at that, but as sad as I am for that little girl losing her father, I felt less guilty that the piece of shit who was cheating on his wife got his comeuppance.
Now that my girls’ day is over, I’m on my way to the clubhouse. Kolter texted me the address since I had no idea where to go. I was a little pre-occupied last time I was there.
I’ll be honest, I expected Kolter to pick me up and drive me.
He usually doesn’t like me driving, even though I constantly remind him that we’re way more likely to be in an accident on his bike than I am in my car.
Still, he usually insists. Not tonight, though.
He said he wanted me to have an easy way to get home.
Which I took to mean, In case I need you to get out of there without me.
Maybe I’m expecting this to be way more than it is. I mean, I’ve been there before. It’s just dinner—it’s not like there’s going to be a shootout or anything. I think. To be honest, I may or may not have been reading some MC romance books, and I think I’ve put myself on edge.
When I pull up to the club, there are men of varying sizes and ages sitting outside, and all of them turn the same unwelcoming narrow-eyed glare my way.
Swallowing roughly, I gather all my nerves, push the door open and step out of the car, but instantly feel uncomfortable. Kolter told me to dress casual, that it didn’t matter what I wore, but it’s like he doesn’t understand women at all?
Finally, I settled on a pair of light-wash blue jeans and a white lace blouse with white sandals.
The sun is out today, which is a rarity for Seattle, and I thought the outfit was appropriate for the nice weather.
But given how the bikers are all staring at me like I’m a zoo animal, it’s clear I was wrong.
Keeping my head held high, I make for the front stairs, but a large body steps in front of me, blocking my way. I pause for a moment then attempt to sidestep him. He matches the move, smirking down at me as he pushes his gut against my chest.
“Excuse me,” I say softly, making sure I don’t make eye contact.
“You’re excused. What’s a sweet little thing like you doing at a place like this? You lost?”
I don’t respond, attempting to step past him once more, but of course he blocks my path again. His hand wraps around my bicep and squeezes, and his teasing tone turns menacing.
“You little bitch, I’m talking to you. What are you doing here?” he snarls.
A large hand covered in tattoos claps down on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up to see who’s dared to interrupt his fun.
It’s Bones. Kolter said he was the VP of the club, his dad’s right-hand man.
Bones stares down at the other biker, tightening his grip on his shoulder. “Let her go.”
The man releases me quickly, lifting his hands up in a show of innocence. “Sorry, didn’t know she was yours. Little younger than you normally go for, eh?”
Bones’ head cracks forward, and there’s a sickening crunch as it connects with the other man’s nose. He crumples, holding his face as he moans and writhes on the ground.
Bones looks to me.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
But his expression turns to one of disgust before he shakes his head and turns to go back inside.
I shoot one more glance at the man on the ground, then make my way up the stairs and into the clubhouse.
When I step inside, I notice the place looks a little different from last time.
Several tables have been rearranged to form one long banquet table with chairs all around it.
I recognize a few faces, like Ace and Brick, who both nod in greeting before Kolter steps out from the back.
His eyes land on me instantly, and he closes the distance between us as he takes a visual inventory.
“Are you hurt?” he asks with a deep frown.
“No, of course not.”
His gaze pauses on my bicep, and I look down to see the skin is a little red there. No big deal, right? You wouldn’t think that if you saw Kolter’s reaction—his eyes go black, and his face turns white with rage.
Kolter moves to take a step around me, but then Bones and Matthew emerge from the back.
Matthew calls out a single word: “Sit.”
Kolter tenses, freezing in place, then turns to the two chairs before us. He pulls out one for me then slides into the seat beside me. I don’t miss how he puts himself between his father and me, a gesture I’m more than grateful for.
Matthew watches us with a curious grin that exposes his yellowing teeth as he lights a cigarette. “Who the fuck is this gentleman? Anyone recognize him?” he teases, looking around the quickly filling table.
Several guys come in from out front, the man from earlier along with them. His eyes find me instantly, and his gaze narrows with contempt. Across the table, Ace stands up, grabbing his bottle of beer then making his way round the table to take the empty seat beside me.
When he sits down, he gives me a quick nod and a barely there grin before shooting a glare at the man. One I bet doesn’t even rival the one Kolter is no doubt giving him over my shoulder.
“Dough Boy, if you think you’re gonna sit at my table and bleed all over it, you got another thing coming. Go fucking clean yourself up,” Matthew snarls.
The man glares at Bones before softening his expression and nodding at Matthew, the way any submissive dog would yield to an alpha.
“Dough Boy?” I ask Kolter as softly as I can.
Not softly enough, though, because Matthew responds, “Yeah, because he’s a fat piece of shit with nothing else to offer.”
The man doesn’t turn round, doesn’t act like he hears Matthew at all. He just keeps walking to what I assume is a bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a rough slam.
Matthew shakes his head at me. “Sorry about the welcome. Afraid my boys aren’t too used to pretty little things wandering in here.”
“Yeah, the old hags are the ones who usually hang around,” Ace throws out, causing laughter to rumble round the room.
I know he jumped into the conversation to steer it away from me, and though I appreciate it, it doesn’t work.
“So, Naomi, can I interest you in an appetizer?” Matthew asks, holding up a small bag of white powder.
I frown as Kolter’s hand slides to my thigh, gripping it tightly.
“She doesn’t touch that shit,” he answers for me.
“Just because she hasn’t tried it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to,” Matthew says to his son before turning back to me.
I quickly shake my head before thinking to add, “Thank you, though, for the offer.”
Matthew stares at me for several seconds before tilting his head to one side. “You sure you’re Amy’s girl? She never turned down shit back in the day. Was practically a fiend for it.”
I don’t believe a word he says. My mom? Doing drugs? Highly unlikely. This is the woman that literally beat Anthony’s ass with a wooden spoon when she found a baggie of weed in his sock drawer when he was sixteen.
I know Mom grew up with Matthew, but though she’s never gone into detail, it always sounded like they didn’t run in the same social circles, so I can’t imagine he knows what he’s talking about.
“She doesn’t fucking touch the stuff,” Kolter repeats.
Matthew shoots Kolter a threatening look and sticks a finger in his face. “Better watch how you fucking speak to me in front of company, boy.”
Kolter’s body goes rigid, and the tension between the two of them is enough to choke every last one of us.
It eases a moment later when Dough Boy comes out of the bathroom, taking the furthest seat from Kolter and I before another guy comes out the back carrying a big pot of what smells like chili, followed by a plate piled so high with cornbread, I can’t even tell what color the plate is.
Everyone begins tearing into the food like animals—like they haven’t eaten in days. Kolter dishes me up a bowl before serving himself, and I take a few bites until something in it sours my tastebuds.
Matthew watches me closely before his eyes narrow. “Is something wrong? You don’t like Frenchie’s cooking?”
“No, it’s great. I’m just not very hungry.”
Matthew watches me for several more moments then shakes his head and busies himself with his meal.
The other men finish, taking their bowls to the back then filing out of the place one by one, until it’s just Bones, Matthew, Kolter, Ace and me left.
“So, Blade says you’re in school?” Matthew asks.
It takes me a moment to remember Kolter’s club name, and I nod.
“Smart girl. Bet you get real good grades too.”
“I do my best.”
“I’ll bet you do. Probably get your brains from that button-up pansy of a father. What’s he up to these days?” Matthew asks as he pours himself a glass of whisky.
“I don’t know. He left when I was a baby,” I say with a shrug.
Matthew cocks his head to the side and looks at Bones. “I didn’t know that. Did you?”
Bones nods.
“Amy always knew how to drive them away. She sure was worth the trouble, though.” Matthew grins, visibly adjusting himself through his trousers.
My stomach turns, and I look away so I don’t puke up the little bit of vile chili in my system.
“Oh come on,” he coaxes. “You can’t be that uptight—I know my boy here can be rough with the women he fucks. We’re all family here. No need to be shy.”
Kolter’s face is stoic. He doesn’t look towards his dad or to me; he just stares forward.
I clear my throat. “I’m not shy.”
“You’re not?” Matthew flashes me a bullshit smile.
I shake my head, driving my point home. “I just don’t enjoy discussing whether my mother is a good lay or my boyfriend fucking anyone but me.”
The words slip off my tongue, surprising even me. I certainly surprise Kolter. I never swear, and I definitely never speak so… directly. And now of all times, this is the moment I decide to do so? Awesome, Nay.
Matthew is quiet for a moment—then he slams his fist down on the table and bellows with laughter.
“Oh shit. You’ve got a little bit of fire in you, don’t ya? I didn’t expect that. That’s good. You’ll stick around longer that way.”
“You mean around the club?” I ask.
“I mean in life,” he throws back, turning my stomach instantly.
He gives me a smile that feels equal parts menacing and amused then rises from the table.
“Well, business calls. Thanks for coming by. You should bring her more often, Blade,” he says, making his way towards the front door.
But he pauses just behind me, his hand sliding to the front of my neck, barely gripping it but still keeping it firmly in place as his breath fans over my cheek.
“Oh, and if you ever get in the way of Blade’s responsibilities to the club again, I’ll snap your goddamn neck.”
My pulse thunders, and my eyes widen in shock—then he releases his hold on me and swaggers out of the club like he owns the whole damn world.
The rest of the table is frozen in place, my heavy breathing the only sound, then Bones pushes up from his seat.
“Get her out of here,” he rasps before heading out the door after Matthew.
“What was that about?” I ask almost numbly, glancing to Ace then Kolter.
Kolter’s eyes meet mine, a heavy level of… something behind them.
“It was a warning.”
“To me?” I ask.
“To me,” he clarifies.
He glances at Ace, who nods wordlessly and heads for the door, then Kolter stands and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’re going home. Ace is gonna follow you to make sure you get there safe.”
I frown. “What about you?”
He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a rough sigh. “I gotta go handle some shit.”