Chapter Two
Bella
My alarm echoes around the room, like some sick, twisted joke taunting me that I got zero sleep and that, yes, I’m still here to live through the same crap over again.
I slam my hand against the off button and pull the duvet up over my head.
Suddenly, there’s a profuse knocking against the door of my bedsit. I lie there silently, hoping that whoever it is will kindly fuck off and leave me be. But the loud thudding continues.
“I know you’re in there, Bella,” my landlady screeches. Her voice is like someone scraping their nails down a chalkboard. I outwardly groan, throwing the duvet off me and stomping the few steps to my door.
“What?” I snap as I yank it open. She pushes her way past me, into the already cramped space.
I clench my jaw to prevent me from saying something that will have me kicked out of here.
It costs me a small fortune for this small room, all my wages go on this shitty little place.
I couldn’t get anything else because honestly, I’m terrible with money.
She looks around the space shaking her head at the mess scattered around the room.
“How can you live like this? It’s disgusting,” she tuts in her usual condescending tone.
“Come in, why don’t you, Felicity,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“This shit pit needs cleaning.” She places her hands on her hips, and I find myself inwardly groaning. “I also need your rent money. You’re two weeks behind, and I can’t wait any longer. I already made an exception for you because I feel sorry for you.”
Pah, feel sorry for me. This bitch makes my life hell. She’s her daddy’s little princess. He bought her this project, and she runs it however she pleases.
“I’ll get it for you today,” I reply, as I busy myself picking the dirty clothes up off the floor, placing them in my wash basket, under her watchful, judging glare.
“You have until six o’clock tonight,” she snaps, before turning on her heels and walking to the door. She pauses, her hand resting against the handle.
“And, Bella, if I don’t have it by that time, you’ll need to be out tomorrow.” She gives a satisfied smirk, like she’s enjoying every minute of my downfall, and then she leaves.
Fuck! I had no intention of still being here to pay the damn rent, and now, it looks like my duvet date plans for today are ruined. I have no choice but to go into work and beg for an advance on my wages.
It’s a short walk to the coffee shop where I work, which is one of the only perks of living where I do.
As I stroll through the door, the place is bustling with customers. That can only mean I’m late . . . again. Great. Millie looks up from serving a customer and gives a strained smile, meaning my tardiness hasn’t gone unnoticed. Marco darts out from the back room, his arms flailing in the air.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you,” he hisses through clenched teeth, like that will somehow prevent the customers from hearing him. I pat my pockets, looking for my phone, then it dawns on me that it’s in a hundred pieces on the M1.
“Shit,” I say under my breath. “Sorry, Marco, I dropped my phone yesterday. It’s completely wrecked.”
I push my way past him and head into the back room, shimmying out of my coat.
“Bella.” He appears in the doorway, and we make eye contact for the briefest of seconds.
It’s enough for my eyes to fill with the threat of tears as I silently pray he doesn’t fire my arse.
The silence stretches between us, and then he inhales sharply and holds his arms open, “Come here,” he whispers, dragging me to him.
I let him, and the tears finally fall. He pushes my body back to look at my face.
We stay like that for a few moments, then he takes me by the shoulders and holds me at arm’s length.
“Oi, no tears. I can’t have my staff with panda eyes. It’s not a good look.”
I let out a laugh, wiping my tears. Trust Marco to be more bothered about my appearance. He always lets his campness shine bright and doesn’t care about what others think. If he wasn’t my boss, I think we’d be good friends.
“Look, Bella, I’ll let you off because, clearly, you’re having a hard time at the moment, but for God’s sake, I need you to be here on time. The other girls can’t see me making exceptions for you.”
I nod swiping under my eyes again in case my mascara has run. “Now, go sort yourself out and get out there and help Millie.”
The morning goes quickly without incident, but all I can think about is asking Marco for that advance. And given the fact I’m holding onto this job by the skin of my teeth, I’m not holding out much hope.
I’m clearing the tables in front of the floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the street when I hear the roar of motorbikes.
It wouldn’t usually catch my attention but after last night it makes me stop in my tracks.
There’re about six motorcycles that park out front.
One of them removes their helmet and I freeze at the sight of the guy who rescued me last night.
He laughs at something one of his mates says as he climbs from his bike.
My stomach twists with knots of embarrassment as the events from last night come rushing back to me.
I can’t let him see me, so I make a beeline for the back, not daring to look back as the bell jingles and his throaty laugh fills the space.
Once I reach the safety of the staff room, I sigh with relief.
But then Marco shouts me from his place behind the counter.
Shit. I stand frozen, my mind racing as I try to weigh up my options.
I could pretend I didn’t hear him, but I’m already walking a thin line with him.
My only other option is to suck it up and face the fucking music.
It seems I’m taking too long contemplating what seems like a huge life decision, because Marco bursts through the doors.
“Come on, we need you,” he shouts.
I take a deep breath, straighten out my apron and head out front.
Here goes nothing.
Clay
The smell of coffee fills my nostrils. It’s just what I need right now, because spending hours outside Belle’s place was not my brightest move. I didn’t stroll back into the clubhouse ‘til five in the morning, after I was sure she wouldn’t run out and go back right to where we started.
Coffee would be my oxygen today, especially as Pres has had us running errands since this morning.
“Good night?” Rock asks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “I saw you sneaking in at early doors. She must have been an animal, keeping you occupied ‘til that time.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. The fellas know I’m nothing like them. I never opt for the club girls. Shit, I didn’t want some pussy my brothers had been balls deep in.
I laugh. “You spying on me, Rock? Shouldn’t you have been tending to your ol’ lady?”
“Fuck, I wish. Meli’s regressed or some shit. I spend hours walking around the club trying to settle her. There’s only so many areas you can walk a kid around safely at that time without being exposed to some crazy shit.”
“Who’d have thought, the Rock would be cockblocked by a little one.” I put my arm around his shoulder. “Seriously, though, it suits you. It’s nice to see you settling down.”
“What can I get you?” That voice I remember as plain as day, it’s haunted me for the last twelve hours.
I smile at Belle and can tell by the way she’s fiddling with her hair that she feels uncomfortable.
But what a difference a few hours make. I take my time assessing her.
Her hair is tied up in a messy bun with a few strands framing her face, showing how naturally beautiful she is.
There’s no sign of the dishevelled woman I pulled off the bridge last night.
“I’ll get a flat white, please. Rock?”
She bites the inside of her cheek, clearly anxious.
“Same,” he replies, before making his way over to the other brothers, who have now found a booth in the corner.
“Belle?” I ask, and she looks up from the tablet where she’s entering our order. “I thought it was you.”
She swallows nervously. “Let me get your order.”
She exhales loudly as she turns around and starts scooping coffee into the machine. I feel like a dick for making her feel more uncomfortable, pointing out the obvious.
I rake my eyes over her petite frame, mentally scolding myself as I take in each perfectly sculpted curve which her all black uniform clings to.
“I didn’t realise you worked here,” I say, trying to make small talk. I crave to know that she’s okay. She nods, adding milk to the cups whilst the machine makes a loud hissing noise. “It’s good to see you again,” I add.
She places the cups on the counter, ringing up the cash register. “That’ll be seven pounds, please.”
I tap my card to the machine.
“Belle?” She raises her chin slightly until our eyes lock. She’s silently pleading with me to drop it. I debate asking if she’s okay but also know it’s a stupid question right now, so I change my tact. “Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?”
She looks shocked. “Erm . . . you don’t want to waste your time with me.” She stutters. “I break everything I touch.” She wipes at an imaginary spill on the counter.
“Hey, I didn’t proclaim to have my own shit together,” I joke, trying to break the tension and make light of the situation. “I think I’m a big boy and I can look after myself.”
She appears to think over my words before finally nodding. “One coffee,” she replies. “I’m not making any promises that I’ll be decent company.”
“One for now?” I ask. “Don’t write off my company just yet, you might offend us bikers, we have hearts too you know.”
“One for now, but under one condition.”
“Sure?”
“We get to ride at speed along that same stretch of road where we met.” The words seem to tumble out before she can stop them, and then she winces like she regrets them.
I grin. “Of course. Speed is my middle name.”
“I thought that was ‘beast’?”
“Nah, don’t get me mixed up with my bike.”
A tall guy appears, his eyes narrowing in on Belle. “Are you going to stand there chatting all day, Bella?” he asks. I don’t like his tone and the hairs on the back of my neck stand. “We do have other customers that need serving.”
“Sorry, Marco.” The quiet, unsure woman returns as she lowers her eyes, clearly uncomfortable with being scolded. I decide right there that I’m going to make it my job to discover whatever is causing this woman to want to break into a thousand pieces.
I fix him with a glare strong enough to kill. “Apologies,” I growl. “Marco, is it? I was keeping the lady.”
I pick up my order, winking at her before making my way over to the brothers.
“Fucking hell, Clay, is that coffee even still hot?” Rock jokes.
I grin. “Don’t know. Wanna wear it and find out?”
He sniggers. “Nah, I’m good. But maybe you wanna wear that piece of skirt back there,” he snipes, taking the cup from my hand.
I look over my shoulder, watching tentatively as she serves another customer.
“Don’t get jealous. Just because you’re now pussy whipped doesn’t mean we all want to be shackled with a woman and kid.”
The brothers are all chatting animatedly as I sit in the corner, watching Belle from a distance.
There was a reason she was put in my path.
I needed to save her, and now, I’m going to make it my responsibility to help her get on the right path.
Maybe this is a way to save myself too. I’ve made hundreds of mistakes over the years, and the biggest led to losing my brother.
I thought I had time to make shit right with him.
Little did I know that a bit of pussy would be the last thing we’d argue about.
We were together fighting in Afghanistan when Laurie, one of the women who served with us, came between us.
He wasn’t even meant to be out on patrol the day he died, but he went to get away from me.
It was a day that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
And now, I’m left with the guilt that it should have been me.
My parents should have lost me, but instead, they received the news that my brother was never going to make it home . . . that he’d been killed in action.
I stare into my coffee, reliving the memory, when I’m pulled from it by Rock calling my name.
“Clay?” he repeats.
I shake my head, and the room comes back into focus. “Sorry,” I say, picking up my cup and draining the rest of my coffee, giving myself a moment to compose.
“All good?” he asks with concern etched on his face.
“Yeah, all good. So, what’s next?”
“We got some collections to make for Pres, some late payments, and we also need to call in the strip club and collect last night’s takings.”
I nod and grab my keys off the table.
“I’ll be out in a mo,” I shout over my shoulder, making my way to the counter.
“You got a pen?” I ask the prick standing behind the counter. I’m still pissed at how he spoke to her, and I can’t hide that from my expression. He passes me one from in his apron, and I jot my mobile down on a napkin, dropping the pen back on the counter.
Belle is bent over cleaning a table, and it takes all my composure not to smack her arse. “Oi, beauty?”
She pauses before glancing around, like she doesn’t realise I’m speaking to her. It’s as if she can’t believe anyone would refer to her as a beauty.
“I was talking to the one behind you,” I say, my tone teasing. When her frown deepens, I laugh. “I meant you.”
She blushes, and I love the way the colour spreads across her cheeks. I place the napkin in her pocket.
“Call me for that coffee,” I say over my shoulder, making my way to the door, resisting the urge to turn and look at her expression.