Chapter 6 Camile
CAMILE
It takes me forever to get back to sleep, and no sooner than I do, the morning sun penetrates the thin curtains and wakes me again.
Suspicious, I glance over my shoulder to make sure Ace hasn’t sneaked back into bed with me.
I find the spot empty and try not to analyze the jostling of emotions that stirs within me.
I did not want to wake up to find some crazy man in bed with me, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to find any man in bed with me.
Perhaps the one I yearn for is still sitting outside the door.
I let out a sigh and squeeze my eyes shut.
I cannot allow myself to go there. That’s Vani’s dad, and she’s already gotten suspicious of my intentions once, when I had to reassure her that I had zero interest in him.
Vani’s friendship means way too much for me to jeopardize it, but damn, if that doesn’t make me sad.
It’s stupid even thinking about it, anyway, because Jack’s already sent me on my way once before.
Why would I want to keep making a fool of myself over him?
Besides, I’ve got way bigger things to worry about, like whether they’ve caught up with Ledger, and if they haven’t, if Ledger has made it back to the college.
I suddenly remember my cell phone and sit up, trying to see where I left my purse.
It’s on the chair in the corner of the room, so I get out of bed and go to fetch it.
I’m surprised it’s not blowing up with messages since I clearly didn’t return to my dorm last night.
Aren’t my friends wondering where I am? I thought they’d have wanted to get the lowdown on my nightmare date.
But there are no messages or missed calls, and what’s happened dawns on me.
Jack.
He’s clearly contacted Vani, or one of the others, and told them what’s happened, and that I’m safe.
I’m still a little hurt that no one has been in touch, but I guess it’s a good thing, really, as it means rumors aren’t flying around about me and Ledger.
Has Ledger even gone back there? He’d be an idiot to do so, but where else would he go?
I mean, he fucking shot at me. What the hell had he been thinking?
He surely hadn’t been rational. His dick must have taken control of his brain and common sense had vanished.
A light knock comes at the door, and my heart jumps. My stomach flutters with butterflies, and I hurry to answer it, hoping to see Jack again, despite myself. But when I pull the door open, I discover someone else.
The guy standing on the porch is around my age.
He’s tall, about six feet, though everyone seems tall to me, and has dirty blond hair that’s a little too long and messy.
He wears blue jeans and the leather cut that seems common for this motorcycle club.
I notice his cut doesn’t have all the patches that the others do, though.
One badge does catch my eye—one that says ‘prospect.’ I search my brain for the meaning of it.
Does that mean he’s not a full member of the club yet?
I’m not sure, but I think I recall reading that when I’d been obsessively googling MCs due to my Jack crush.
“Oh, hey.” His eyes are bright blue and kind. “Jack’s been called away, but he asked me to take you over to the canteen for breakfast.”
I’m kind of disappointed that Jack didn’t stay outside my door, but I guess it’s a good thing. It must mean he believes I’m safe. “The canteen?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy, but they do have good coffee and a breakfast sandwich.” He gives a shrug. “Bikers take a lot of feeding.”
“Oh, I don’t really do breakfast.”
He widens his eyes at me. “You don’t say no to Jack.”
I can’t help scoffing a little. “Really? He’s going to make me eat breakfast?
” I picture him sitting opposite me, feeding me pieces of muffin, holding my chin until I chew and swallow, then opening up to show him my mouth is empty.
Holy fuck. Why does that send a direct ping between my thighs? That man has me all kinds of messed up.
“Err, no, but if I don’t take you over there like he says, then I’ll be the one who gets in trouble.”
He seems young and slightly off kilter, like he hasn’t quite found his feet yet. He reminds me of myself, and I can’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with Jack. Just let me put on my shoes.”
He blows out a breath and rakes his hand through his hair. “Phew, thanks.”
The movement lifts the arms of his t-shirt, and I spot what looks to be homemade tattoos snaking around his bicep. Are those prison tattoos? Okay, so maybe he’s not as harmless as he looks.
The only shoes I have are my stupid high heeled pumps, but I put them on. They at least make my five feet three seem a little taller. Scooping up my purse, I leave the room and pull the door shut behind me.
“This way,” he says.
I wobble over the uneven ground, and he holds out his elbow to me.
“I’m good, thanks,” I say, not wanting to link arms with a biker I don’t know while on Jack’s compound. Although maybe it would make him jealous. After all, I got the impression he was with Ace in my room last night.
He jerks his elbow back at me. “I won’t bite, I promise.”
“I don’t normally hook arms with strange men.” I bat my eyes a little to show I am kind of joking, except my father would be pissed at me for doing it, so there’s that.
“I think we’ve met before. Were you at that party at Verona Falls University?”
“Yeah, that’s right. You were there with Jack?”
It’s a question. I’m not sure I noticed him, which I feel bad about. Jack did bring a few of his crew, though, and I was kind of distracted.
“I was, which means we’re not total strangers, right?”
I let out a small laugh and take his arm. “I guess not.”
His gaze drifts over my bandages, but he doesn’t mention them.
“I’m Rook,” he tells me. “Well, that’s not really my name, but that’s what everyone calls me.”
“How come?”
He shrugs the shoulder of the arm I’m not holding on to and gives a half smile. “I’m the new guy. The Rookie.”
“I see.”
“And you’re Camile Montez.”
“I am,” I confirm, wondering how he knows my surname. I guess Jack must have told him. What else has Jack said about me and to whom? Has he told everyone about the time I came on to him at the party? Did they all laugh and make fun of me?
My cheeks warm, and I stare at the ground. God, how mortifying.
We reach the canteen, which is just a long hall with benches.
There’s a hatch serving food, and a coffee machine on one side.
People mill around—mainly guys wearing the same cuts as Rook, but with different patches.
There are also a few women. It makes me feel better that I’m not the only female around, and I catch the eye of a couple of them, relieved when they all throw me welcoming smiles.
I look around for Jack, hoping I might spot him, my stomach all aflutter again, but there’s no sign of him.
Rook heads straight to the coffee machine and, without asking me what I want or how I like it, pours me a cup. Then he moves on to grab us both a plate of pancakes and bacon, even though I already said I don’t eat breakfast.
He carries it all on a tray over to one of the tables and puts the food down, then gestures for me to sit.
“What if I was a vegetarian?” I say. “Or if I can’t tolerate caffeine?”
He stares at me, and then back down at the plates, and then back up at me again.
“Shit, sorry. I forgot.”
I’m still confused. “Forgot what?”
“That there are choices now. I’m just used to getting what is given. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
When did he have his choices taken from him? Did it have something to do with those homemade tats? I give him a small smile. “Nah.”
“And you drink coffee?”
“Definitely. Just sometimes a girl likes to be asked.”
He nods. “Noted.”
I sit down and pick up a piece of bacon, then crunch into the salty strip. I’m hungrier than I thought. Almost getting killed last night clearly hasn’t done anything to my appetite.
Someone catches my eye. A man is sitting alone in the corner. It’s as though the rest of the world continues around him, while he is in his own little time-space continuum. He’s staring right at me, and I shift in my seat, feeling even more self-conscious.
I lean into Rook and speak under my breath. “Don’t look now, but who is the guy in the corner?”
He chews for a minute, then casually flicks his gaze up and back down. “Oh, that’s Ghost. Don’t worry about him.”
I blink. “Ghost?”
“Yeah, he was at the party that day as well, but he doesn’t say much. He just kind of…”
“Watches?” I fill in, trying to be helpful.
Rook chuckles. “Yeah, he watches, but he’s also deadly. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of him. He’s ex-special forces, and he’s both seen and done some shit in his day.”
A tall figure appears behind Rook, and a hand reaches out and ruffles the prospect’s hair with the flat of his palm.
“What are you doing with my girl?”
It’s Ace.
Rook jerks his head away. “Jack asked me to bring her over for breakfast.”
Ace drops into the space next to Rook, moving with a kind of lolloping grace, like his muscles are too loose for his limbs.
“Aww, damn,” he grins at me ruefully, displaying those cute dimples, “I was going to bring you muffins and shit.”
Rook narrows his eyes at Ace, then reaches out and plucks a piece of straw from Ace’s tousled curls.
“What the hell have you been doing?”
“Playing with pussies,” Ace says, before taking a huge bite of his breakfast burrito. “They liked it, too.”
God, he’s so crude. But still, my mind flicks to images of what he might have been up to, and I shift a little in my seat.
Whose pussy has he been playing with? He’s clearly been rolling around in the hay, quite literally.
Is it dumb that I feel a little twinge of jealousy?
If I’d given him different signals last night, it could have been me he was touching.
No, what the hell am I thinking? It’s better if I don’t know.
I’m the girl who hesitated to link arms with Rook, yet now I’m having fantasies about Ace touching me in a much more intimate way.
These men are dangerous in more ways than one.
Too many muscles, dimples, and testosterone.
They’re far too tempting, and it’s making me lose my mind.
I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be interested in me, anyway.
There are plenty of gorgeous women around this place.
Unlike me, they seem to be perfectly at ease around these men.
They’re fun and flirty, and I bet they won’t lie awake at night wondering if their worth has just evaporated all because some asshole decided to take things too far.
Ace leans into Rook again. “Ghost is staring at me,” he says out of the corner of his mouth. “I think he likes me. Don’t be jealous.”
Rook laughs. “He’s not staring at you. He’s staring at Camile.”
“He is?” Ace seems surprised and then annoyed. “Why?”
“Maybe he likes the look of her.”
“I am here,” I hiss at them both.
“Seriously, though, it’s most likely that Jack has told Ghost to keep an eye on things. You know he’s good at that.” Rook shrugs.
“Keep an eye on things, or keep an eye on Camile?” Ace raises one brow into a perfect, sardonic arch.
The pair chuckle together, and I glare at them. “Still here,” I point out. “Anyway, why do I need keeping an eye on?” Something occurs to me. “Does Jack still think Ledger is out there? That he might be looking for me?”
Surely Ledger wouldn’t be dumb enough to come onto a motorcycle club compound?
And besides, I’m pretty sure that what happened last night was just a heat of the moment thing.
He didn’t like that I’d turned him down, and he went way over the top with his reaction.
But it isn’t like he actually wants me dead, is it?
Like… he wouldn’t track me down to keep me quiet about what happened… would he?
Great, I’ve lost my appetite again.