Chapter 7 #3
Anyone else would have missed it, but I already knew Pagan well enough to realize that what I said hit a nerve.
Hank approached his daughter and perched on the arm of her chair. “Darlin’. Pagan here told me that he’s dealt with that bastard and his daddy. He’s promised you won’t get any more crap from them.”
I smiled to myself.
Hank’s looks and demeanor reminded me a little of my dad’s friend, John Stone. His dark hair and beard were salt and pepper, and his face was ruddy from years of working the farm. He had an air of calm strength about him that I couldn’t help liking immensely.
Peggy came bustling back into the room, holding a tray containing a coffee pot and some fresh mugs.
“If Gracie wants to report what happened, it’s her choice.
I’m grateful Pagan has come here today, and it makes me feel a little better that he’s guaranteed Gracie’s safety.
But our girl has to do what she feels is best.”
“Can I leave my number for Gracie?” I asked, turning to her. “If you ever want help to make a complaint, or even just hang out and talk, you can call me anytime.”
Pagan’s eyes narrowed to slits. He jerked his head toward the door, and an uneasy feeling burrowed deep in my stomach.
“Thank you,” Gracie said quietly. “I’d like that.”
Peggy beamed at me. “Maybe we girls can go for coffee sometime?”
I pushed down the knot in my belly and instead, smiled brightly at her. “That would be great.”
Pagan’s expression blanked as we said our goodbyes. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, he clasped my elbow and yanked me toward his bike.
“Hey,” I exclaimed angrily, half stumbling in my attempt to keep from slipping on the icy ground.
“Shut the fuck up,” he bit out, his fingers digging painfully into my arm.
I stared at him in shock.
Pagan wasn’t this angry when he saw me kissing Kieran. Now, his body vibrated with a coiled energy that made the air shimmer around us.
We approached his bike, and he took my helmet from the handlebars and shoved it against my stomach so hard that I let out a soft oof.
I leaned up to get in his face and barked, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Shut your mouth and get on the bike,” he cut out.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I snapped.
Pagan threw his leg over the motorcycle, then he turned toward me and grabbed my waist, half-lifting and half-shoving me onto the seat behind him.
“Keep goin’, and you’ll get your ass beaten again, but this time, I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy it.
Now, keep your big fuckin’ mouth shut, and put your helmet on. ”
I let out a huff but did as he said while watching him through narrowed eyes as he shoved his helmet on. Then I grabbed hold of his jacket and held on as he pulled away fast, which was stupid because the ground was so icy.
The few miles back to the clubhouse slipped away, and I stewed in silence, not even feeling the wind whip at the fur-lined jacket Pagan had made me wear when we left to see the Youngs.
His up-and-down moods left me reeling, and if he thought I was about to live my life walking on eggshells for fear of upsetting him, he could think again.
Fuck him.
The ride back to the compound was short, but it felt endless.
Every jolt of the bike made my anger spike, and it was only made worse by the reckless way he rode through the snow and ice.
A few times, I panicked we’d wipe out, but thank God he was experienced enough to control the bike with ease, or else we would’ve skidded and crashed.
I held my breath through the entire white-knuckle ride until eventually, the lights from the clubhouse loomed ahead, and Pagan signaled to turn, but then he braked so hard to take the corner that the back wheel skidded precariously.
My heart leaped to my throat, and I clutched his jacket, closing my eyes and praying to my da to keep me safe. Pagan was acting like a fucking child, and frankly, I was at the point where I didn’t care why. To put us both at risk like that was a dick move.
Pagan rode to his fancy reserved president’s parking spot that took pride of place near the doors of the clubhouse and stopped the bike. Yanking off his helmet, he jerked his head for me to dismount, which I did, gladly.
“You almost killed us,” I snapped the instant I removed my helmet.
He dismounted and pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and stabbed at it before putting it to his ear and barking, “Boot. Get to my room, grab Aislynn’s bag, and bring it to the parkin’ lot.” He paused a moment and then snarled, “I don’t give a fuck. Do it,” before ending the call.
I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat and croaked, “You’re kicking me out?”
He scraped a hand across his jaw. “What did I tell you about gettin’ involved in club business?”
My forehead furrowed with confusion. “What?”
“Spent thirty minutes on a freezing fuckin’ porch with Hank Young convincin’ him he didn’t need to make a complaint, and you’re inside tellin’ Gracie to do the goddamned opposite. You can’t goddamned help yourself, can you?”
“Gracie being abused has nothing to do with the club,” I protested. “That asshole put his hands on that girl and changed her life forever. What she chooses to do about it isn’t your business either.”
The clubhouse doors opened just as he leaned down toward me and bellowed, “Are you fuckin’ stupid?
If those two cop pigs get replaced, our immunity goes south.
We can’t guarantee the new cops will work with us, and we can’t operate if the pigs are up in our shit.
The sole reason we opened here was that we struck a deal with local law enforcement, and now, because of you, that entire deal could be worthless. Jesus, bitch. We had it handled.”
My eyes sliced toward the clubhouse to see Boot and Castle taking in the scene.
My skin prickled with indignation. “Beating that pig up doesn’t cut it, Pagan.
I don’t give a shit if your illegal activities depend on working with crooked cops.
There needs to be consequences for what he did to Gracie.
And if you call me a bitch one more time, you won’t have to throw me out.
I’ll go because I want to, and I won’t come back. ”
“Jesus, woman,” he shouted. “There were consequences. We enforced them.”
My chest burned from his weak-ass excuses and I yelled back, “In your opinion.”
“It’s not for you to decide!” he roared.
I pulled my shoulders back and tilted my chin up defiantly.
“You’re right. It’s not for me to decide, Pagan, but you know what?
It’s not for you to, either. It’s Gracie’s decision.
All I did was give her some options. That girl’s been through hell.
She feels dirty, humiliated, and probably like she did something wrong.
She needed support, and that’s what I gave her.
If you want to cover up for that evil bastard, then that’s on you.
But I, for one, won’t stand by and watch Gracie suffer because he’s walking the same street as her, in the same town, while he’s in a position of power.
” I glanced at Boot and Castle, who were approaching us with caution.
“Fuck you and fuck your boys’ club. If you want to protect a rapist, then you’ll fucking burn for it, but don’t think for one minute that I’ll shut my mouth, because I won’t.
” I sneered at him disdainfully and looked him up and down.
“You may not have the balls to make a stand for that girl, but I do.”
Pagan’s hand shot out and grabbed my throat, his fingers flexing against my skin.
My heart jolted painfully, and I let out a whimper as his face dropped to mine and he hissed, “Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to, bitch?”
“Ade,” Boot yelled. “Step the fuck back.”
“Pagan,” Castle said, warning in his tone. “Don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret. Take a breath.”
My heart pounded, but even though his face was contorted with rage, and his grip was strong and had intent, I wasn’t in any pain.
My eyes raised to meet his, and I murmured, “I don’t know who you are. I thought I did, but I don’t.”
The fury seemed to bleed out of him, and he dropped his hand and took a step back from me.
I turned and stumbled toward Boot and Castle, holding my hand out for my bag.
“I’ll put it in the trunk for ya, love,” Boot murmured, his usual deep, booming voice softening.
I blinked back the tears welling in my eyes and nodded blindly, moving toward Pagan’s bike and opening the saddlebag to get my purse.
Heading for the car, I kept my eyes to the ground, slipping past the men while retrieving my keys and cell phone from my small crossbody bag.
Footsteps sounded behind, and Bootneck muttered in his hybrid English-American accent, “Pop the trunk, and I’ll chuck your bag in, ya badass little bitch.
If he tries to stop you from leaving, ignore him and go.
Run his ass over if you need to. If he calls, don’t pick up. Make him work for it. Got it?”
“I’m done with him,” I replied quietly, clicking the key fob to unlock my Volvo XC40 and sliding into the driver’s seat before popping the trunk like Bootneck asked.
“Sure you are,” he chuckled, going to the back of the car.
It took him seconds to throw my bag in, slam the trunk closed, and smack the roof twice to signal I was good to go. I dragged my seat belt on and started the car, then, taking a breath to help keep my shit together, I reversed out of my parking space and drove toward the gates.
Holding my head high, I rounded my shoulders and set my jaw.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d hurt me.
The lights of my moving car slid across Pagan, who was walking toward me and waving me down, but I kept my eyes ahead and put my foot on the gas, driving straight past his sorry ass. Within seconds, I’d pulled out of there, finally heading home.
Hot tears blurred the asphalt as I shot past the edge of town and took the turning that would lead me to peace and safety, but I blinked them back furiously, determined to hold it together as my daddy’s voice filled my head, reminding me of something he’d instilled in me since I was a girl.
If you want to survive in this world, daughter, you have to learn how to take the hits and, most of all, you never ever let the bastards see you bleed.