Chapter Nine #2
There’s a party at the club tonight, and I know it’s not her usual scene, but I am hoping that she’ll spend some time with the ol’ ladies, to kick back and relax from everything she’s been going through.
I pull up outside her workplace, and she’s sat on the bench outside waiting for me. She’s so engrossed in her phone, that she doesn’t even hear the rumble of my engine.
I dismount my motorcycle and make my way over to where she’s sat. Peering over her shoulder, I see her scrolling through the images of her boys, and I wonder how long she’s been sat here. I place my hand on her shoulder, and she jumps in fright. “Fuck, Clay!”
“Sorry, beaut, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She quickly closes her phone, pushing it into her pocket. “You know you don’t have to hide them from me.”
“I wasn’t,” she snaps, and the bite in her voice makes me pull back. She’s never raised her voice at me, not once.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” I say, offering her my hand to help her up.
She doesn’t take it, choosing to stand then walk off in front without a word.
She even climbs on the back of my bike before I can help her.
The loss of our usual routine confuses me.
Maybe I’ve pushed her too hard. Maybe she isn’t ready.
We arrive at the club with very little conversation, and every time I try to engage, I get one-word answers.
“We’ve got a party in the clubhouse tonight. One of the prospects is getting sworn in.” She nods. “The ladies want you to join them for a couple of drinks.”
“Sure,” she mutters before walking off in front.
I lean against my bike to give her time, pulling out my phone and scrolling through. I stop at my brother’s number. It’s the first time I’ve thought about him in a few days, and I hover there. I miss you, brother. You’d know what to do.
“Clay, get your fucking arse in here,” Drifter bellows from the doorway. “Slayer is en route.”
I slide my phone into my chest pocket and make my way over. Drifter claps me on the back.
“Why the long face, brother? This is a party.”
“I’m good.”
“Good, good? Or just good?”
“Fuck, Pres, you pissed already?”
“I may have had a few too many.”
“Shit,” I mutter, shaking my head, “this is gonna get messy.”
As I walk into the bar, the music is in full flow.
There’s cackling coming from across the room, and I see the ol’ ladies with Belle.
They’re knocking back shots, and it surprises me that she’s joining in.
I’ve never seen her drink, let alone shoot shots.
I make my way over as she’s about to pick up another and place my hand over it. She glances up, frowning.
“Boooooo,” Rochelle slurs. “Leave the woman alone and go get yourself a whiskey.”
“Yeah, Clay, fuck off over there somewhere,” Red adds.
“I’ll be over there if you need me,” I growl, leaving her in the company of the only women in here I would trust her with. I take a seat at the end of the bar indicating to Hazel to get me a drink.
“Water, please.”
Drifter and Hazel exchange a confused look.
“Get the fucker a Jack,” Drifter slurs.
“Nah, I’m good. Someone’s got to stay sober,” I say, nodding towards Belle.
“She’s safe here, Clay. You know that,” Drifter says as he slides the glass of Jack Daniels across the bar to me. Hazel hands me a bottle of water, and I take it, ignoring the whiskey.
“Someone’s gonna have to carry her up.”
“You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?” Drifter asks, bringing his own whiskey to his lips. I take a swig of the water, my eyes fixed on Belle. “I’ve seen that look numerous times,” he adds.
The door swings open, and Slayer announces his arrival as he always does.
“What’s up, fuckers,” he shouts as everyone looks up from what they’re doing.
I roll my eyes. Brandy stumbles in behind him in her short red leather mini skirt and black lace crop top, which barely covers her nipples.
Brandy is one of the club girls and a big earner at our strip club, but that girl is trouble.
She’s pitted a number of brothers against each other.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Belle yells. My head snaps in her direction, confusion marring my brow. She’s paler than usual, but I’ve never seen her so angry. She’s not looking at me anymore.
Belle’s glare is locked across the doorway, straight at Brandy.
The scrape of her chair is sharp and sudden as she shoots to her feet. Brandy’s lip curls in disgust, and I’m left wondering how the hell these two even know each other, let alone why Belle looks ready to rip her throat out. Belle’s fiery eyes snap back to mine.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” she says again, and I’m completely lost. I glance at Slayer, but he looks just as confused. Red follows Belle’s line of sight, her jaw dropping when she spots Brandy.
“Belle, don’t,” Red hisses, grabbing her arm.
Belle yanks free and marches straight towards me.
“Is this some sick, twisted fucking joke?” she demands. Everyone is now staring, so I place my hands on her arms in an attempt to calm her down.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” she spits before turning her attention to Brandy.
“So, first, you came for my husband, fucked his brains out, took my children. And for what, some sick joke?” Brandy smirks. “And now, what, you’re here to rub my face in it?”
My eyes widen in realisation. This is the other woman. Belle turns to me, her eyes filled with pain.
“And you,” she points her finger to my chest. “You fucking knew all along. You made me think you gave a shit about me. But you bring me here, let me believe you can help, then she turns up all smirks and tits. Why did you even stop me that night, Clay? You should’ve just let me jump.”
I reach for her whilst my brain catches up with this shitshow before me. She steps back from my reach. “Nah, I don’t fucking think so,” she snaps, before turning on her heel and rushing up the stairs two at a time.
“What the fuck just happened?” I growl, rounding on Brandy.
She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, shrugging like she’s bored. The innocence in her expression is fake, and it only pisses me off more.
In one step, I’ve got her by the throat, slammed against the door.
“I said, what the fuck is going on?” I snarl, squeezing just enough to make her gasp and claw at my wrist. Her eyes widen, panic replacing that smug little act.
Before I can tighten my grip again, Drifter and Slayer are on me, one hauling me back by the shoulders, the other prying my hand from her throat.
“Clay, leave it,” Drifter orders.
Red stands between me and Brandy.
“Move out my fucking way, Red.”
“You’ve got bigger issues to sort,” she snaps, as she points towards the stairs. “If you don’t get up those fucking stairs, she’ll be gone.”
Brandy gives a little smug wave from the safety of Red’s back, taunting me. Rochelle appears beside Drifter.
“Brandy, I suggest you get the fuck outta here. I will not be responsible for Clay’s actions.”
Drifter and Slayer still have hold of me. “Get the fuck off me,” I bark, and they give each other the nod. I take the stairs to my room as fast as my legs will carry me.