Chapter Three
Cove
Three months later…
Don’t text him. Don’t text him. Don’t text him.
Me: Want to meet at our spot?
He doesn’t respond right away, which annoys me considering I can see he read the message. It wasn’t always like this. In the beginning, he texted and called all the time. When fifteen minutes go by without a response, I get pissed off.
Me: Or not.
Again, he reads it but doesn’t respond.
Asshole.
Finally, the dots move as he types something out. I chew on my middle fingernail, nerves getting the best of me. It’s not like I’m in love or anything. I just really need the escape he offers.
Nick: I can’t.
Me: Later?
Nick: Never.
My stomach twists at his words. Since when? Nick and I have been fucking around for months, ever since my sister’s wedding back in June. We meet up mostly by the lake at a secluded park and give each other head. It works out for us.
Me: Shut up. Meet me at our spot tonight.
Nick: No.
The dots move and stop several times before another text comes through.
Nick: I’m getting back with my wife so all this has to stop if I want things to work out between us.
His wife?
What the fuck?
Me: Are you serious right now? Wife???
Nick: I should have told you. I know this.
Me: FUCK OFF.
I slam my phone down, anger pulsing through my veins. It was a bad idea to get involved with Nick. I knew it, but mostly, I wanted to prove to Dragon he didn’t get to run my life and I could see whoever I wanted.
Thinking about Dragon sours my mood even more.
He’s a stalker. Ridiculously hot but psychotic stalker.
As if summoned by my thoughts alone, I sense him enter the clubhouse. Every muscle in my body tightens and I have to try desperately not to straighten my spine. Whenever I see him, I’m filled with disgust.
He would have raped and killed me.
When we were trapped in that creepy-ass perv land, the Night Giant freak ordered him to do just that. And like a trained dog, Dragon was ready. Had my sister not gone batshit crazy and taken my place, I wouldn’t be here right now. I owe Stormy for her quick thinking, but it makes me feel like less than a man for not being able to protect her or myself.
I should have gone back to Arkansas after all that crap went down.
I should have.
My twin Calla and I both should have gone.
Instead, we stayed.
After what we went through, there wasn’t any coming back normally from it. Besides, I want to help take down that motherfucker Night Giant. He’s still out there doing fuck knows what.
That’s partially the reason I joined the Royal Bastards MC.
The other was so I could learn how to defend myself.
I’ll never allow myself to get into a situation where I can’t fight back. All the fear I’d felt at being held captive and forced to perform a sex act on that monster has dissipated. All that remains is anger.
And him .
All of this would be so much easier if he wasn’t here too, pissing me off each day. I can barely focus when Dragon is in the room with his stupid, smug smirks. He knows he’s bigger and stronger than me and doesn’t mind letting that be known.
But I’m not afraid of him.
I simply hate him.
“Baby Prospect,” Dragon barks out. “Make me a drink.”
Hate. Him. With. A. Passion.
Grinding my teeth to dust, I storm around to the back side of the bar, not bothering to look at the hot fucker. That only makes it worse. I know he’s hot. He knows he’s hot. Everyone knows he’s the devil’s beautiful gift to mankind. Doesn’t mean I have to like him.
“What do you want?” I spit out, still refusing to meet his smoldering stare.
Being a prospect, I was sure they’d give me a bitch job like cleaning the garage or working on bikes or yardwork. But Prez wants me manning the bar in the clubhouse. He’s been trying to move the partying out to the clubhouse because he and his ol’ lady are playing house in the big one. Fine by me. I like the clubhouse because it’s the farthest place away from Dragon since he still lives at Koyn’s. Only recently has he taken to bugging the shit out of me every day, though.
“For you to stop being a little asshole,” Dragon says, humor in his voice. “And a Jack and Coke. Same for Katana.”
I roll my eyes as I start their drinks. Katana, I’ve learned, is Dragon’s shadow. He silently follows him around everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy watched him take a shit. It’s bad enough having Dragon’s imposing presence clouding around me, but add in his loyal best friend, and it’s too much. I can always breathe again when they finally take their asses out of the clubhouse.
“Yo, BP,” Nees calls out.
Now I smile and the tension bleeds out of me even though I hate my road name—BP, shortened from Baby Prospect. One good thing about joining the RBMC was meeting Nees. He’s close to my age, a spitting image of his good-looking father, and we get along well. If he were gay too, I’d probably beg the dude to marry me or some shit. He’s that perfect. But he’s as straight as they come and I know better than to pursue a guy like him. Plus, I need him to be my best friend here.
I need someone.
Anyone who isn’t my twin.
Just thinking that has guilt sluicing through me. Calla and I have always been joined at the hip. But…after the kidnapping, things have been different between us. I know that shit is on me. I’m the one who’s harnessed the anger and tried to ride the wild stallion. The sweet, soft parts that match Calla’s are gone. Charred and left for dead. I can’t be who she needs me to be, so I avoid her.
I avoid a lot of people these days.
A strong hand clasps on my shoulder, making me jump. For a split second, I worry it’s Dragon. But the second I get a whiff of spearmint gum, I know it’s Nees.
“You’re on edge,” he observes, never missing a thing, much like his father.
“Just in a pissy mood.” I pour Dragon’s and Katana’s drinks. “You mind handing these over?”
He chuckles quietly. “And miss you and Dragon getting into a bitch fight? Never.”
Fucker.
I leave him to pour his own damn drink, turning to make my way over to the man I loathe. His eyes burn into me, begging for me to look at him. Not because he cares. Because he likes to stare me the fuck down anytime I’m near. I’m just angry enough today I might not be the first to look away this time. Testing that theory, I lift my gaze as I slam his drink down.
Green eyes the color of grass on a bright summer day.
Probing. Intense. Antagonistic.
Dragon truly is one of the most beautiful people on the planet. Dark lashes that frame his emerald eyes. A perfect nose seemingly chiseled by a sculptor. Full dark pink lips. Nearly black stubble along his sharp jawline and cheeks. His dark brown hair is longer on top and typically tousled in a way that looks runway or photoshoot ready. It’s always the light, silvery scars on his cheek that catch my stare, reminding me of why I hate him. Scars my sister inflicted upon him when they fucked.
Not by choice.
Another one of Night Giant’s fucked-up games.
“What?” I demand, hating how my gaze travels down the column of his throat, admiring the detailed inked dragon on his neck.
“Nothing, Baby Prospect.”
I roll my eyes and storm off, but Dragon is lightning quick. Always faster. Always stronger. Always in my fucking air, breathing. He leans across the bar, snatching my wrist. His larger hand completely encircles my entire arm, the strength in his grip making my bones ache.
“Let go of me,” I snap, meeting his fiery stare with a hate-filled one of my own. “Now.”
“Not until you tell me what’s your problem today.”
Today?
He’s my problem. Every damn day.
“Go to hell,” I grit out.
His eyes narrow and then he holds out his hand. Katana sets my phone in his waiting palm. God, I hate them both.
“Looks like your boyfriend broke up with you.” Dragon pouts out his bottom lip, making fun of me. “Poor little boy.”
I try to yank my arm back, but he’s stronger, his grip only tightening. “He wasn’t my boyfriend. I just sucked his dick from time to time.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw before he releases me. He sets the phone down on the bar top and slides it my way. “Looks like you’re in for a dry spell.”
This. Fucking. Guy.
I sneer at him. “Or maybe I could make you suck it. Since you’re so damn good at it.”
“The fuck you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Cove,” Nees says from nearby. “Walk away.”
I know I’m poking the bear. Or the dragon in this case. But I’m so over him. Meeting Dragon’s stare, I make a crude gesture of jacking off.
That’s when I see it.
The second before he attacks, just like in that cage that night.
His face seems to shutter completely as someone else takes over. The real monster lurking inside him. Because I’ve seen it before, though, I’m already seconds ahead of him. I take off past the bar and through the living room, leaping over the sofa on my trip to the door. His heavy footfalls behind me have my heart ratcheting in my chest. A dragon chasing a fucking kitten. I have claws now. I’m not afraid to use them.
Flinging open the door, I barely make it outside before slamming into a solid chest. Before I can land on my ass, the scent of cigarette smoke and leather invades my nostrils. The air of authority ripples around me as two strong hands grip my shoulders, keeping me upright. Dragon, in all his burning heat, sears into me from behind, but he doesn’t touch me.
“Prez,” I grunt out, withering under Koyn’s hard glare.
“What the hell’s going on between you two?” Koyn demands, his lit cigarette between his lips bouncing as he speaks. His dark eyes dart between me and Dragon behind me. “Hmm?”
“Playing chase.” My words are a low blow, throwing out a play on Dragon’s real name, Chase, but fuck him. I’m so tired of his shit.
Dragon growls. Yes, growls. Like a fucking lunatic, madman wild animal.
“You know what my dad used to do back in the day when Copper and I would be at each other’s throats?” Koyn asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Spank you?” Dragon offers, sending more fury rushing through me like a flood of liquid fire.
Koyn chuckles, dark and kind of evil. “He wasn’t that kind of daddy. No, he locked our asses in the shed or the garage or the damn barn. Made us clean up or haul equipment or whatever the hell else needed doing. No rules or supervision. Just me and my brother left to sort it out. We usually ended up with a black eye each, but by the end of it, we got that shit out of our system and moved on.”
The thought of being trapped again with Dragon makes my stomach roil in disgust. No, thank you.
“My grandma used to just separate us and put us in a time-out,” I grind out, unable to meet Koyn’s penetrating stare.
“Yeah?” Koyn says. “Well, I ain’t your fuckin’ grandma. Get your shit together or I’ll have you both cleaning the slaughterhouse from top to bottom after we have our way with Corsetti.”
He releases me, shouldering past me.
“Corsetti?” Dragon demands, following him back into the clubhouse. “Loki’s problem?”
I let out a heavy sigh and go in as well. Koyn doesn’t come out to the clubhouse unless we’re having Church or he has business to talk about. Apparently, Loki, the prez of the Reno, Nevada, RBMC chapter, has dumped his shit into our lap.
“Loki’s problem is our problem,” Koyn barks back, making his way over to the bar and sitting down. “Anthony Corsetti’s son, Max, took off and headed out east.”
Knowing where my duty lies, I stalk over to the bar to grab him a bottle of Jameson and a glass. Once I pour him a couple of fingers’ worth, I set the bottle beside his glass and cross my arms over my chest. Dragon sits back down beside Katana. Nees is perched next to him, an eyebrow raised at me as if to silently ask me if I’m okay.
“Do we have him?” Nees asks. “Is he here?”
“No, but we’re going to intercept him.” Koyn downs his drink before slamming it on the countertop. “BP, how you handling a Glock these days?”
“I can hit a target,” I assure him, my voice a little too squeaky for my liking.
Katana snorts and I have the urge to flip him off. So maybe I’m not that good at hitting the target yet, but I know how to shoot the damn gun.
“I can do whatever needs to be done.” This time, I harness some of the earlier anger and harden my words with it. “I got your back, Prez.”
His dark eyes soften briefly. “I know you do. I know you all do. Now gather up the rest of the guys, BP. We have shit to discuss.”
“Yes, sir.”