Chapter Four
So this is what they mean by a standoff.
Cleo sat in the lone chair across from Rogue with her knees locked and her hands clasped, resting on her lap.
For the last twenty minutes, no one had said a word.
Dante had excused himself and left briefly while Trey stood in the corner with his phone up to his ear.
He’d kept his voice low, so she had no idea what he was saying or who he was calling. But I have an idea.
A heavy sense of dread weighed her down, and her shoulders sagged.
This was definitely a mistake. But there was one thing working in her favor.
The club was on a run and not coming home until tomorrow.
She had no doubt they’d know the details of her little outing with Reyna, but it gave her time to come up with a plausible explanation.
Cleo wasn’t so na?ve as to think there wouldn’t be consequences, and she knew they’d be upset.
But if they could just see her side of it.
Her reasoning. She glanced up at Rogue, who had her pinned in his stare.
Or? Maybe they hadn’t reached out to the club yet, and she still had a chance to keep this night under wraps.
She’d overheard a few deals between Rogue and Killcreek.
Maybe she could make her own. It’s worth a shot.
Cleo forced a smile and inched up to the edge of the chair. “Can I…”
“Can’t fucking speak without a tongue. Did you know that?”
Was that a threat?
Rogue narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.
That was definitely a threat.
Cleo clamped her lips and scooted back in her chair, silently waving her white flag. Sometimes it was important to accept her fate. And punishment. A few minutes later Dante returned, and Trey walked over, sliding his phone into his chest pocket.
“It’s done, sir,” Dante said.
Rogue smirked. “Oh yeah, how’d that go?”
Dante sighed. “As expected.”
“Fucking perfect.” Rogue grabbed his glass of amber colored liquor and took a sip, eyeing her over the rim.
Cleo wasn’t following their conversation, but she got the distinct feeling from the victorious gleam in Rogue’s eyes, this wouldn’t end well for her.
He cupped his glass, settling into his seat. “You got a real hard on for pissing off the club, don’t you?”
That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Cleo was indebted to Killcreek and appreciated them taking her in. The last thing she wanted to do was upset them or be a burden. But explaining that to Rogue would be fruitless. He’d already made up his mind about her and her actions.
“I’ll take your silence as confirmation.”
“I don’t try to upset them. Sometimes it just happens.”
“’Cause you don’t do what you’re fucking told.” Rogue squinted. “Why the fuck do you stay with them?”
“Rogue.” Trey’s tone came out as a warning, which Rogue blatantly ignored.
“You know if Killcreek ever gets busted, you’ll go down with them. And I ain’t talking about a few years.”
No one gave her enough credit. Cleo was well-aware that her affiliation with the club could have dire consequences. It beats the alternative.
Cleo shrugged. “I’d adapt.”
Rogue laughed, sharing a look with Trey. “You think you can handle prison?”
“Well” —She cleared her throat— “I wouldn’t have much of a choice.”
Rogue leaned closer, his eyes darkening. “They’d fucking eat you alive.”
“Probably,” she whispered.
Cleo would’ve been a fool not to consider the repercussions of being with Killcreek.
In fact, her brother had warned her when he first offered her a place at the clubhouse.
Knox never went into detail about exactly what the club was involved with but she knew it wasn’t legal.
And still, she took him up on his offer.
She stared back at Rogue, almost amused by the irony of the conversation.
While Cleo didn’t know all the inner workings of the Underground, she knew enough.
If Rogue ever got busted, he’d share a similar fate.
Of course, he’d fare a lot better than her in prison.
But he’d still be locked up and stripped of his freedom.
It was a strong point though, Cleo refrained from voicing it.
“So, why the fuck do you stay?”
Cleo gave the most honest answer. “It’s my home.”
Rogue eyed her as if she was a science experiment. “You’re fucking off, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry?” Cleo cocked her head, and when Rogue suddenly straightened in his chair, they were only a few feet apart.
“You ain’t wired right. I’ve heard that about you.”
“Rogue,” Trey snapped.
Cleo raised her brows. That was a bold accusation. And ironic. She was sure there were plenty of people who would say the same about Rogue. In fact, she’d heard it mentioned a few times.
Cleo chuckled, and without giving it much thought, she said the first thing that came to mind. “You can’t believe everything you hear, right? I mean, I’ve heard things about you.”
“Fuck.” Dante’s muttered tone sent a chill down her spine. It was the polar opposite of Trey’s reaction. His low, deep chuckle was muffled, but she heard it.
“Yeah, well, fucking enlighten me. What have you heard?”
Okay.
“You’re unpredictable.”
Rogue didn’t seem the least bit bothered.
“Ruthless and unforgiving.”
The corner of his mouth curled as if confirming her statement. Cleo should’ve stopped there. She didn’t.
“And I’ve heard unhinged.” She widened her eyes. “A lot.”
That one didn’t go over as well as the other descriptors. Rogue’s jaw squared, and his temple pulsed, exposing a thick vein in his forehead. Oh shit!
“Rogue,” Trey said calmly. “You asked her, remember?”
“Yeah, I fucking remember, Trey.” Rogue settled back in his seat, drawing his cigar to his lips and taking a drag.
Trey moved closer, setting himself between her and Rogue. “I think we should go.”
“I think that’s a brilliant fucking idea.” Rogue stood and smirked. “This is gonna be the highlight of my fucking night.”
Trey glanced down at her. “Cleo.”
She stood, darting her eyes between the men. “Where are we going?”
“We’re taking you home.” Trey said.
What? They were going to escort her to Killcreek?
Absolutely not. She assumed Dante’s call was probably informing Ace that she’d gone to the poker house.
That she could handle. But if they knew she’d been with Rogue and Trey?
That would be catastrophic. Between the prospects and the surveillance cameras, there’d be no way to hide it.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can get a ride with a car service.”
Trey dragged his hand over his face. It was clear he was losing his patience. Rogue, on the other hand, seemed entertained.
“You think I’m gonna pass up the fucking opportunity to see the look on those assholes’ faces when I bring you home. It’s gonna be better than Christmas fucking morning.”
At least she had one thing on her side.
“They’re not at the clubhouse. They had a run. Won’t be back until tomorrow night. So, like I said, I can just take a car, so you don’t have to go out of your way.”
Rogue’s gaze darkened, and he angled his head. “Turns out you’re wrong. Those degenerate fucks got home early.”
No!
“Yeah, that’s right. And now they’re waiting on you.”
A coolness spread across her entire body. “Are they upset?”
Rogue smiled. “Let’s fucking find out.”
Shit!
****
Wraith had to be physically stopped twice trying to leave the clubhouse.
To appease him, Ace had sent a few members out and stationed them throughout Killcreek so they could track Cleo and her “escorts’” approach.
Realistically, with Rogue and Trey he knew she wasn’t in danger.
They wouldn’t hurt her. Even as much as Rogue hated the club, taking a shot at Cleo would only result in a war. And Rogue knew it.
Wraith fisted his beer, finishing it off and throwing the empty bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall, catching a few brothers off guard. Cue whipped around and spread out his arms.
“What the fuck, Wraith? Six inches from my head, asshole!”
Wraith had officially lost his shit. He ground his teeth and paced from one end of the room to the other.
He was like a live wire with his blood pumping through his veins at a blistering speed.
What the hell was she thinking? He turned to make another lap around the room, and Ace stepped into his path, glaring.
“You rein your shit in. And that’s a fucking order, Wraith. We’ll deal with her when they leave.” Ace narrowed his gaze. “I’m not gonna have that motherfucker in our house thinking he’s got the upper hand.”
Wraith sucked in a breath and refrained from telling his president the obvious. Rogue does have the upper hand right now. He had Cleo. She’d been at the poker house, unprotected. It showed a crack in Killcreek’s control over her.
“They’re pulling in now.” Cue glared at him and walked to the door.
Wraith took steady, even breaths trying to settle down. He rolled his shoulders in hopes of relieving the tension. None of it worked.
Rogue and Trey walked in first with Cleo trailing behind. With the dim lighting, she was just a shadow until she walked farther into the room, staying close to the wall near the hallway.
What the… Wraith’s gaze traveled down her body, taking a slow perusal.
Her standard uniform of cutoff shorts and a form fitting half shirt was tempting enough.
But now? The tiny black dress left zero for the imagination, clinging to her body like second skin.
It was short, stopping mid-thigh, but he knew if she bent over, her ass would be on full display.
The plunging neckline showed an ample amount of cleavage.
Too much. And she was out, without him, like that?
“Gentlemen,” Trey said, stopping at the table beside Rogue. “I believe we have something of yours.”