Chapter 2 Charisma
There were no bikes out front to warn me this was Immortal Descendents territory. There was a sign that read “Parking at the Rear,” but I ignored it since I was walking.
It’s much harder to ignore six feet and one inch of pure mahogany fineness poured into jeans that hug bowed legs that I have always loved. The almond-shaped, nut-brown eyes slowly assess me, as if he is feeling some of the same things that I am: desire, surprise, and so many questions.
As the man I once knew as Chrishon Donovan takes long strides toward me, he raises thick, long eyebrows in a question. He sniffs as if he smells something afoul, and that broad nose that appears broken at the bridge twitches faintly.
His full lips are downturned as if in disgust, but I personally know that his lips always look that way, unless you’re blessed with one of his rare smiles. The facial hairs of his low-cut beard and trimmed mustache have grown somewhat thicker than I recall.
New tattoos have been added since the last time that I saw him.
He didn’t always have tattoos on his neck and face, only on his arms. I recall the two sleeves on his arms, but now a raging bull symbolizing his zodiac sign decorates his neck, and the barrel of a gun with bullets lying underneath colors the other side of his neck.
“Chaos” is tattooed in Japanese on the left side of his face, and “Assassin” is tatted in Japanese on the left side of his forehead.
The reason that I know what those words say is because he always wanted those tattoos.
I recall vividly the night that he first showed them to me and told me that he was going to get them. I had never heard him express interest in having them on his face, though, and I was never sure why he wanted the word “assassin” tattooed on him.
He jokingly used to say, “Because I murder that pussy when I’m in it.” I couldn’t deny it; he always made me cry during sex, and I often felt like I was losing my breath or my heart would beat out of my chest. Sex with him was more than amazing; it was outstanding.
Chaos is his motorcycle club, or MC name. The Immortal Descendents was always what he was most faithful to. He always chose them over me, and I hate that I have stumbled into this place.
Big diamond studs are in both of his ears, and whereas he was always slim, he’s bulked up some, but he’s even more toned than before. When he finally stops in front of me, I want to disappear through the floor.
My chaotic emotions are all over the place. Torn between disbelief that he’s actually standing here in front of me and hurt and betrayal that he walked out on me when I needed him the most, I’m speechless.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice is raspy and gravelly, but God, how I missed hearing it.
My jaw aches from grinding my teeth together so tightly. “I . . . I didn’t know this was your place. I wouldn’t have come.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he repeats as if I hadn’t just spoken.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come,” I reply, backing up as the crowd thickens around us.
He steps closer and grips my jaw in a tight squeeze.
It hurts, but I refuse to shed another tear for this man.
Instead, I attempt to snatch free from his grip, but he only tightens it more, and I am reminded that my strength is no match for his.
If anything, trying to pull free only hurts me more, and I hate the sting of tears that prick the backs of my eyes.
I glance sideways outside to see if the car is still there, but Chrishon grips my jaw tighter and forces me to look at him.
I force my gaze back in the direction of the window again. This time, Chrishon turns his head in that direction before he asks, “What’s going on? What the fuck are you afraid of?”
“N-n-nothing,” I stammer.
His gaze narrows on mine, and he replies, “I hate liars. Don’t ever fucking lie to me, Charisma. What’s going on?”
There once was a time when I trusted this man with my life, and I knew he would do nothing to hurt me. Although I hate him now, a part of me knows that he won’t physically hurt me, and I decide to tell him everything.
When I’m finished, he stares into my eyes. The crowd has not backed down. “You’re coming with me.”
“No. I need to go home.”
“I told you that you’re coming with me.”
“I have no idea where you’ve been. You dropped off the face of the earth for five years, and now you just expect me to trust you and follow you across the world? Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His biker brothers move in closer with leering gazes.
“She’s fine as fuck, man. Where’d you find this one?” one man asks.
“Oh, she’s a feisty one. I got something to tame that spirit and that mouth,” another man declares.
“Ohh, shit! I know that’s not little Charisma all grown up with attitude and hips,” a man I recognize as Chainz declares.
“Please let me go,” I politely ask.
“You’re going with me.” His voice is a harsh command that I shouldn’t challenge, but I do.
“No, I’m not. You don’t control me.”
He leans in close to me, and shivers run up my spine when his lips brush my ear.
“You’re clearly worried about something out there.
The only way you’re gonna make it out of this bar is with me.
They’re like a bunch of vultures with fresh roadkill,” he states, referring to his MC brothers. “Besides, you owe me.”
“I owe you nothing!” I hiss.
“That’s a nice ass on her,” another man states and whistles.
“Hell, I’d love to ride that,” a different man declares.
There is no way that I’m making it out of here without being harassed by someone. Facing the men in this bar and the danger that lies await outside strikes a chord of terror in my chest.
“So, what’s it gon’ be, Charisma? Me, them, or whoever you’re running from out there?”
“I’ll take my chances on my own, thank you very much.”
He chuckles. Before I can argue or utter another word, he lifts me off my feet and tosses me over his shoulder. His arms are wrenched around me in such a way that my sundress does not lift.
“Let me go!” I shout, pounding his back as his MC brothers clap and whistle. The women are glaring at me, and I’m sure they’re hot because I stole his attention from them. They have no idea that was the last thing on my mind. I’d rather face a pack of hungry lionesses than be cornered by Chaos.