Chapter 11Evan
Chapter Eleven
EVAN
I haven’t been able to focus since my little run-in with Cain earlier. It’s like I can’t think around that man. He makes my brain turn to mush, and I get so fucking mad at the same time, making me flustered. Which is bad. Very, very bad.
“Come on, Hades, babe. Let’s head inside. Mama is hungry,” I say as I start to head up to the house. Feeling my phone vibrate, I pull it out to see a text from Zeke.
Zeke: Hey. You around so we can talk about what went down yesterday?
Me: Thanks, but no need. Cain just left, and it’s all good.
Zeke: What do you mean Cain just left? When did you invite him over?
Me: I didn’t. I assumed you did.
Zeke: I definitely fucking did not.
What the fuck.
So Cain just thinks he can randomly show up on me like that? And more importantly, how did he know where I live if Zeke didn’t tell him?
“Fucking bikers. They just think they can do whatever the hell they want,” I grumble to Hades as we head into the kitchen. “You want a little treat, baby? Mama needs to go to the store to get some more food for us.”
And maybe stop for a big juicy bleu cheese burger. Zeke can never shut up about the ones this one bar has in the city. As someone who is lactose intolerant with a disgusting case of ibs, bleu cheese is my weakness. Any cheese, if I’m being honest. Popping a few Imodium to, you know, combat the cheese, I check to make sure Hades has water and his show on- yes, I’m that dog mom- and head out.
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the lighting in DD’s. I find an empty seat next to an older guy who seems like he’s been here for one too many.
“What can I get for ya?” a short but curvy girl on the other side of the bar asks. Her round face gives her that innocent look, but you can feel the ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes radiating off of her.
“Double rum and diet, please.” God knows I fucking need it after all the shit that has happened in the last two days. It’s funny how one day you can go from simply existing to wondering what’s happening.
“Sure thing. Menu?” Nodding my head, I look around and take it all in. This bar has a very similar feel to the one at Scotch’s club’s compound, except instead of random worn-down couches and stripper poles, there are actual tables and a few booths. A stage is set up in the corner, I’m assuming for a live band or something. After ordering my burger, I bring the glass to my lips and take a large sip.
“I haven’t seen your face in here before, and I would remember a pretty little thing like you.” The man next to me slurs and tries to do what I think is a failed attempt at a wink, but his eye just kind of stays drooped.
Ugh.
This is one thing that’s wrong with society. A girl can’t just be. There’s always some man that thinks he’s entitled to a piece of her.
Smelling the alcohol on him from where I’m sitting, my nose turns up. “I don’t get out much.” I give him a tight smile and turn my body slightly away from him, silently letting him know I want to be left alone.
“Another one?” The bartender asks as she sets my food down in front of me.
I open my mouth to answer yes, but a voice I unfortunately now know all too well sounds from behind me, cutting me off. “Put it on my tab, Delaney.” His skull-tattooed hand reaches over my shoulder and nabs a fry.
I let out a long sigh as my eyes dart up to the ceiling. I swear I can’t catch a break.
“I didn’t notice you were here,” I say, annoyance clear as I swat his hand away from my food.
“You wouldn’t have, babe. I was in the office. But then I saw your sweet ass on camera and just knew you stopped by to brighten my day.” Cain smirks while biting into the stolen fry.
And that’s when it clicks.
DD.
Dirty Devils.
The name of their club.
Apparently, I need to tattoo ‘dumb bitch’ across my forehead for not putting all of this together way before I thought it was a great idea to come get a burger. Zeke talks about this place all of the time, and I’ve never made the connection.
God, I’m an idiot.
“Trust me, the last thing I would do is go out of my way to see you.” I can feel Delaney’s eyes on us, assessing what I am to him. Maybe she’s fucking him.
Cain’s arms come around either side of me, caging me in. I can feel his body heat radiating off of him, making the temptation all too great to lean back into it. To just get a little feel for the spank bank of what his hard chest would feel like.
“The whole sarcastic bitch act you have goin’ only turns me on, babe. Makes me want to throw you over my knee and spank that attitude right out of you,” he growls in my ear while lightly trailing a finger down my neck to where it meets my shoulder. A shudder runs through my body at the touch. I don’t even have time to process what’s happening because before I can even come up with a reply, he’s pushing off the rail and sauntering down the hallway toward the right of the bar.
Damn, that man. I don’t get like this. I’m flustered, which isn’t like me, and I hate it. Hate not being in control of my emotions. And I hate that my body just can’t seem to figure out how to act around him.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much over him. He has that effect on all the women he comes in contact with,” the bartender, whom I now know as Delaney, says in passing. Like I didn’t already know he’s the type that only has to snap his fingers, and someone is there asking how he likes his dick sucked.
And on that thought, I just don’t want to be anywhere near here right now. I slide my burger basket to the creepy drunk guy next to me and signal for my tab.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
After trying to settle my tab only to find out she actually put everything I ordered on his, I left a twenty on the bar and got the fuck out of there.
I need to clear this Cain fog and get my head on straight.
By the time I get home I feel no better than I did when I left the bar. Not even Hades, acting like he hasn’t seen me in ten years when I walked through the door, cracked a smile.
My stomach growls as I pop the last bit of edible I had made the other day into my mouth before I lay out the ingredients for my famous beef Wellington. Declared famous by me and Hades, who swallows it without chewing. Cooking has always been meditative for me. There has just always been something about bringing random ingredients together to create a delicious dish. This is my form of therapy. Frustrated? Beat it out on the meat. Sad? Add your favorite alcohol to the sauce. A little buzz has never hurt anybody. I’m just finishing wrapping the beef in the puff pastry when I catch a flicker of light out of the corner of my eye, making me freeze.
What the fuck was that?
I move over to the kitchen sink and lean forward, eyes squinting as if that’s going to make looking out the kitchen window into the pitch-black yard any easier. I know I smoke a lot, and sometimes, I do get into my head and hear and see things that aren’t actually there. I won’t go as far as to say that I’m a paranoid smoker, but there’s always a tiny bit present with me. I just chalk it up to being the result of a shitty fucking childhood.
There!
I see the light again coming out from behind the barn. It almost looks like someone is walking around with a flashlight. What the hell?
My stomach is in my throat as I whistle for Hades and grab my handgun from the kitchen drawer. I conveniently have a gun stashed somewhere in every room of the house—something Zeke insisted on when I bought this place. At the time, I never understood, but now I hate to admit that I get it. “Let’s go, boy,” I whisper quietly while motioning for him to follow me out the backdoor.
“Seek,” I command quietly, silently thanking myself for basically selling my arm and leg for this type of dog training.
Hades doesn’t hesitate before he’s off sprinting in the direction where I last saw that stranger. It never ceases to amaze me how smart dogs are.
I quietly step off the back deck and make my way to where the grass and trees meet. Slowly, I creep along them, heading toward where Hades ran, trying to blend into the shadows. I inhale sharply, trying to suck my stomach in as much as possible. Like that will make me melt into the shadows.
My heart is racing so fucking fast from all of this. What if it’s an axe murder? All the crime documentaries I’ve watched have taught me that a situation like this only ends one way. Assaulted in every shape and form before they choke you out and send you six feet under. God. I don’t think I’ve felt this much blinding fear since my foster dad, drunk off his ass, was trying to bust down my dead-bolted bedroom door. Again.
Just when I think I’m going to throw up from it all, I hear Hades’ “I’m going to fuck you up” growl. And that’s when I start running at a dead sprint directly toward where Hades is. And by dead sprint, I mean a light jog where I start to regret my life choice of canceling my gym membership because I didn’t think I needed it. There’s nothing like the universe giving you a big “fuck you, I told you so.”
I flatten myself up against the back of the barn’s wall, my hand on the safety of my gun, ready to fuck someone up as I peek around the corner.
I wasn’t quick enough, though.
A bike’s engine quickly fires up as I round the corner, the trespasser speeding out from behind a tree where his bike must have been stashed, darting across my lawn and back up my driveway. “Motherfucker!” I yell.
“Hades, come!” I scream as he starts to give chase but immediately stops and comes back to me. “Good boy. I’ll get you a treat in a second.”
I tried to get a good look at the person, but it all happened so fast, and they were wearing a black ski mask. Fucker.
What in the hell just happened?
During the entire time that I’ve lived here, I have never had someone come out here like that. It was pretty fucking obvious that they didn’t want me to know they were here.
Only two people— well, three now, know what is back here and what I do for a living. I guess that isn’t true, is it? The whole club probably knows. Guys I haven’t even met before.
An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. It feels like an immense sense of dread. Like no matter what I do, something really fucked up is about to happen.
That could have been so much worse than what it was. This person was clearly looking for something. But what? My plants? You’re not going to ride out of here with those on the back of your bike. Maybe what I have packed and ready to go? But even then, you still wouldn’t fit that much in a saddlebag. Thank god they don’t know that everything I have ready to go isn’t kept in the greenhouse.
It’s kept in the highly secured bunker I installed when I first moved in. It was a typical old, unfinished basement. And if someone got their hands on the plans for my house, that’s all it would show. I fucking made sure of that.
Would the club double-cross me?
No. Zeke would die protecting me before he let that happen.
Would Storm rat me out? I’d like to say I doubt it, but our business arrangement isn’t exactly legally binding.
You see, I just grow the product. But dealing? That’s a whole different ball game that I want no part of.
There are too many risks and the possibility of a deal going sideways.
So once everything is ready, Storm meets me, buys it off of me, and does god knows what with it. Oh god. Is it him?
I met Storm at a bar I worked at right out of high school. He was your typical line cook/drug dealer. I couldn’t tell you exactly how we got into business together. It kind of just happened. And when I finally had enough saved up to buy this place, it was kind of an unspoken agreement that we would expand slightly. I mean, why not? Money makes the world go round.
Hades follows me through the back door and sits in front of the fridge, waiting for his treat. I threw him his bone before quickly setting the alarm system and putting my handgun back in its designated drawer.
As I get ready for bed, all the possibilities of what could have happened to Hades and I run through my head. Hades snuggles up to my side and is out like a light, like we weren’t almost just murdered and made into someone's dinner. I envy his resilience because me?
I didn’t get any fucking sleep that night.