Chapter 3
Nobody is coming to save you. Get up. - Nathaniel Brandon
P lague
We climb off my bike, and I tug her to me, softly pressing a kiss on her forehead. I release her, catching her sad stare. “You’re not alone,” I promise. She has me. “Come on, baby.”
“I’m not really dressed to see anyone. My face is swollen and blotchy still.”
“You’re perfect and anyone who says differently can eat my fist.” With that, I stride into the clubhouse. She follows closely behind, chin tucked towards her chest. My brothers notice right away and with how shit went down earlier when she showed up, they no doubt know something is up and I’ll be getting the third degree on it later. Now, however, they do what they do best when it comes to club shit and save their judgments and opinions until they get the facts from me.
“Brother!” Powerhouse greets with a wide smile. I know he’s doing it on purpose, helping to ease the tension coming off of Lacey. “Looks like you found a beautiful woman outside, does she have a sister I can meet?”
Shaking my head, I stop next to him and bump his fist. “Powerhouse, meet Lacey.” I flick my gaze between them and say, “This big oof is Powerhouse, the Sgt. At Arms for the club.”
“I have no idea what that means, but nice to meet you.” She flashes him a timid smile. I hate it that she’s making herself small right now. My brothers and I are dangerous, but she’s here with me . She has nothing to fear from any of them. Except maybe Angel. He’s a moody fuck, but even he doesn’t make it a habit to terrorize women unless they’re law enforcement of some type. Blow’s poor ol’ lady will never be safe in a room alone with him. In his defense, we’re not usually law enforcement’s favorite people anyhow, Blow was just an exception it seems.
“Drink, baby doll?” Powerhouse asks with a wink, and I level him with a glare, promising I won’t forget this shit the next time one of his little stripper bitches is around. I’ll see how he likes it when I get them to admit they’d like to bounce on my dick when he’s obsessing over their asses, just to prove a point to him.
“Manic,” I hiss at my prospect. “Get Lacey whatever she wants to drink, and don’t fucking flirt with her.” He’s one person in this club who actually has to listen to me since I’m a patched member and he’s merely prospecting. I sponsored him, so he’s my responsibility if he fucks up. Usually, it’s me getting him drunk while he attempts to recover in time to impress the rest of the brothers. It’s entertaining, and you know what they say: misery loves company and all.
Whiskey’s brows shoot nearly to his hairline at my order. He’s wise enough in his mature age to not say shit, but to just tip his head in a nod my way. I don’t want my brothers scaring her, but I damn sure don’t want them getting sweet on her ass, either. This pussy is all mine and anybody trying to tap her ass will not like what I’ll have to say or do about it.
Manic slides an icy soda in front of her, his eyes a bit clearer than when I left. “Prez get on you?” I question, watching him for any signs of being fucked up still.
He shakes his head. “Nah. I crashed for a bit, the sleep helped,” he responds with a shrug.
“Speaking of Prez,” Whiskey interrupts, “He wants you to get out there and start polishing the chrome, Prospect. Go sweat the rest of the shit out of ya’ kid, so you can clean the bar tonight after we party.”
“Fuck,” Manic mutters under his breath. “Gonna sweat my ass off out there.”
I fold my arms across my chest, enjoying how Lacey leans towards me as she plants her juicy ass on a barstool. “You complaining, Prospect? Did I just hear you mutter something?”
He shakes his head, placing the wet rag he was cleaning with in the empty sink and rounds the bar. He heads out the side door, no doubt going to the garage to get everything he needs to shine our bikes up like a good little bitch. Anyone wanting in the club has to put the work in. They have to really want it and show us they’ll take our shit, respect us, and be committed. The only one who had it easier than the rest is Mark. He got lucky being Prez’s ol’ lady’s security detail. It basically bought him a get in free card once he started hanging around the club constantly. He doesn’t have any say over any of us, but he does outrank the Prospects.
Exhaling once he’s gone, I say, “He’s getting worn down. The guy never complained before. Fucker’s so close to getting patched, he needs to stick with it a little longer.” I watch out the bar window as he wraps a black and yellow bandana across his forehead and squats down next to the first bike with a bucket of supplies.
Whiskey grumbles, “Maybe stop getting the poor kid trashed each night when he should be sober like the other little shits around here. It only makes it harder on him when he always feels like death. You and Baker are gonna get his ass hooked on something, then what?”
House chuckles, “You’re just pissed ‘cause you had Ripper and Blow hazing you, old man. They probably had you wiping their sweaty nutsacks in the middle of summer.”
“Old, my ass. My cock can stay standing longer than yours, you fucking meathead.”
I turn my head, burying my face in Lacey’s hair as I laugh at Whiskey giving our jumbo-sized brother shit. It’s all good here while we’re kicked back, but you’ll never catch us allowing any outsider to talk about our brothers that way. We’d fuck them up and worry about the consequences later.
Her shoulders shake as she laughs and attempts to stay quiet, but we still hear her giggle. My brothers instantly smile at the sound, and I can’t stop from grinning. She may be green to club life, but she’s sweet enough she’ll be just fine around here.
“Plague.” A pair of tits push up against my opposite bicep as lips nearly touch my ear. “Want to have some fun?”
I shake the club slut off, flashing her an irritated glare. Out of all the brothers here, why the fuck is she coming over to jump on my cock when others are obviously without a woman? “Nope. Only pussy I want is right here,” I retort automatically and tip my head to the side, indicating Lacey, not that it’s needed. I continue, “You know what? Since you thought it was okay to come over to me to purposely start some shit with a new face in the club, and be disrespectful towards my guest, I think it’s time you went home.”
I snatch her arm and begin walking her towards the door. This bitch is crazy if she thinks I’d tolerate this from her because she’s a chick, I won’t, regardless if she’s male or female. Lacey doesn’t deserve that bought of nastiness pointed her way.
“No! Plague, please! I didn’t know, I swear it’s not like that. I can beg, let me beg and make you happy, okay?”
I scoff, officially with the ick towards her at this point. “No? Sure as fuck seemed like it to me and I thought Ripper made it plain as fucking day when his Gem came around that he wasn’t gonna put up with any shady-bitch-shit. That goes for all our women. You don’t own my motherfucking cock, nor any other brother around here. You don’t come up to me and disrespect the female I’m with and expect there not to be consequences. You’re lucky I don’t bury you out back to prove a point to everyone else around here when it comes to Lacey.”
Tears crest as she begins to sob and beg, like it’ll sway me. I’m already done with her at this point; she’s showed her true colors and they’re not motherfuckin’ unicorn. Glancing at my brothers, I pause long enough, making sure they agree. They both nod, so I tow her the rest of the way to the front door. “Call an Uber, you’re done here,” I declare with finality and shove her outside, allowing the door to close behind her half naked ass.
I don’t know how she made it in the door in the first place. Usually, we’re better about the snatch coming through here, that they know the score from the start. No nasty-bitch-shit, or you get the boot. I don’t care if you ride dick for a living or dance, whatever, you can still show some respect and expect it given in return.
Whiskey starts clapping, making me huff. “Good, it’s about time someone tossed her out.”
House nods, “She’s always ugly to the girls at the club.” Of course, those chicks are the ones on his mind.
I immediately go to Lacey’s side, my hands moving to her face. Her full attention is on me with my touch, her eyes wide, looking every bit of my fantasy. “You shouldn’t have been disrespected like that. You deserve better.”
“It’s okay.” I think she’s shocked I stood up for her, but she should expect nothing less. If a man doesn’t have your back when he should, he’s obviously not your man.
“No. It’s not,” I calmly argue, and promise, “But I’ll make it up to you.” Reaching for her, I thread our fingers together and grab her half-full soda with my free hand. “Brothers,” I acknowledge to the guys, and tow Lacey’s fine ass behind me, leading her to my room.
“Where are we going?” she asks once we’re alone again, glancing around and taking everything in. The place isn’t much; it’s a biker compound with a bunch of rooms and bathrooms, so we can sleep, shit, and fuck in peace if we wish. The kitchen and bar are more decorated and taken care of, mostly by Ripper’s ma since we hang out in them the most.
“To my room,” I share and flash her an easy grin. “Gonna tuck you in my bed, eat your pussy until you’re screaming my name, and then I’ll probably feed you. When I’ve had my fill, I’ll hold you. That way you can sleep tonight, knowing you’re safe in my arms.”
“Asher,” she whispers, and I drop her hand.
Before she can blink, my grip is wrapped around her throat, her body slammed against the wall. Chin tilted up with her eyes trained on me, her mouth opens with shock, while her breasts are deliciously trapped against my chest. Her heart thuds away like a trapped bird attempting to escape its cage. In this case, I’m the bars.
Leaning in, my head tilts to the side, eyes blazing. “What’d I tell you?” I growl threateningly, my voice more beast than man. In this life, you listen when an outlaw gives you an order, it could be the difference between breathing or sleeping six feet under. Does she not realize I’m teaching her how to fit into my life?
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, and I believe her. She’s never had me like this. She was always small, sweet, and deserved to be spoiled. She’s all grown up now, though, and has to deal with the real world. This is me and I’m planning on showing her exactly what that means.
My nose nudges hers, my grip on her throat tightening enough to make her gasp as I cut off her oxygen. “Gonna spank this pussy first,” I murmur, my decision made, and bite her bottom lip. Stepping back, I release her, my jaw flexing as anger twists with my building desire for her. She keeps slipping up and I’m going to end up breaking her the first time I finally give in and fuck her.
As soon as we’re in my room, I’m storming for the private bathroom. Flipping the shower on, I check around, making sure she has a clean washcloth. “You can use my towel, babe. Take as long as you need.” She’s gonna want those bones to be jelly from a hot shower with how ravenous I am to eat her pretty pink cunt.
Once she’s in the bathroom, I go about poking around my room. I’m so anxious. I’m looking through shit like I’ve never been here before and seeing it all with new eyes. Wondering how she’ll take my space, and what she’ll think. She’s never been in any room of mine before, since I was always at her house because of Seth. This one is plain. White walls, stained concrete floor, which is a staple through the entire clubhouse. My dresser is old and beat up because I’m always shoving my clothes in there in a hurry and then moving on to do something else, or else I’m banging it around, tore up from partying. My closet is basically empty, save for some hoodies and jackets, but I’m not really the type to hang shit up. Hell, she can take over my closet with her belongings if she’d like to while she’s here. Not that I believe she’ll stay long, but I might enjoy her shit taking up some space for a little while.
“Plague,” my name interrupts my scattered thoughts after I find a buried pill bottle and pop a tiny white tablet to help calm my mind. I’ve got random shit here and there, but for the most part, it’s clean. I know the sheets are fresh because one of the club sluts went through and washed everyone’s bedding. At the time I wondered why she was busying herself with sheets she wasn’t fucking in, but now I’m grateful. I won’t be tossing that one out on her ass, at least.
Turning to face Lacey, my mouth waters as I watch the towel slip from her fingers and she bares herself to me. Wet hair, no make-up, and curves everywhere. It reminds me of the first time I truly noticed her and craved to run my palms over every inch of creamy smooth flesh. I think I loved her in that very moment, but buried it, knowing I could never have her. We didn’t fit. She was too young and my best friend’s sister.
Innocent.
Sweet.
Untouchable .
You see, death has always been in my life, poisoning the most important parts of my world, as everyone always leaves me eventually. Each one that goes fills my heart a little more with toxins, making it darker and deader. Joining the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club was easy. I already knew the only way out of the MC would be death, for me and them, so there was never any doubt in my mind whether they’d stay or not. I put up a wall with women, fucking when needed, but otherwise partying and forgetting about them.
It’s been safer that way.
Lacey is different. I can fuck her, but I can’t let her in too deep. She could leave—she will leave, I know it, and I can’t allow myself anymore cracks or I may not be able to come back from them. However, I don’t want to shut her out completely and forget either. She’s too special to chalk up as another easy fuck and then discard quickly after like I could with all the others.
There has to be a balance.
Moving for her, my swagger is more of a prowl as the hunter in me sees its prey and wants to leap. It’d scare her if I moved too fast, grabbed her, pinned her down and mounted her like I want to, so badly.
Fuck, something has to be wrong with me for lusting after my friend’s little sister for several years. I shouldn’t want her as badly as I do, to the point of savagery, but I do, and here I am, doing everything in my power to hold myself back. To not hurt her in any way, because I’d never be able to forgive myself if I did.
She trembles as I reach her; she must recognize the beast I keep caged inside, the one I can usually easily hide from everyone else. Not her, though. Of fucking course, she’d be the one person to see below the surface to the real me.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she practically whimpers, tilting her head to the side and offering me her neck. Her immediate submission without realizing she’s doing it has my cock the hardest it’s ever been in my entire God forsaken life. Submission in a woman is my weakness, one no one has caught onto yet and she just offers it up on a silver fucking platter.
“I’m your protector, I’ll never give you more than you can handle.” Her chin falls to her chest as her eyes drop to the floor but I’m not having it. My thumb runs along her jawline, tilting her head up until she’s staring into my eyes once more. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life. I always have.”
“I know you have. You’ve always been such a good girl.”
A fire sparks in her gaze at my compliment. She doesn’t like it when she thinks I’m patronizing her but belittling her in any way is the furthest thing from my mind. I meant what I said—she is a good girl.
A sweet girl .
And it only makes me want to fuck the stunning woman standing before me all the fiercer.