Chapter Twelve
Bella
Who the fuck does that prick think he is? Claiming me, seriously? We had sex once, then he left. Why the hell would he claim me?
I slam the bedroom door closed behind me, pacing the room. I don’t even know why I came upstairs when I should have just left.
I drop a quick text to Red.
Me: I can’t stay here x
Minutes later, there’s a knock at the bedroom door and she pops her head in.
I sit on the end of the bed, shaking my head. “What a fucking mess, Red.” She comes in, shutting the door quietly behind her. “What the fuck was he thinking?”
She takes a seat beside me. “He wasn’t thinking.”
“I need to get outta here,” I mutter, but the internal conflict is weighing heavy on my heart. I feel safe here, and it’s felt more like home than my pokey little bedsit. They’ve all taken me in as one of their own, and I’m even starting to become accustomed to their way of life.
“You don’t need to go anywhere,” she says as she places her hand on my knee and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“I can’t fucking stay here. Sharing a bed with him clearly isn’t working, is it?” I snap, not intending to be a complete bitch to Red, but unable to control my tone.
She smirks and arches her brow. “I’d say it clearly is working.
” She laughs, and I glare in her direction.
“Sorry.” She holds her hands up in surrender.
“It’s just that if it didn’t mean something, he wouldn’t have claimed you.
I don’t think you realise how big it is for a biker to take someone as their ol’ lady. ”
“If last night meant anything to him, he wouldn’t have pissed off this morning, and he sure as hell would have had the decency to talk to me before that little fucking scene,” I say. I don’t know what’s got into me, but obviously, spending time surrounded by these strong women is rubbing off on me.
“Look, you need to talk to him.”
I shake my head furiously. I’ve been taken for a cunt one too many times. I’m not about to dive into a relationship where he doesn’t even have the decency to talk things through with me.
“Listen, you’re safe here with us. Just think about it, give yourself some time. Talk to him, don’t talk to him, but think about it first when you’re not angry.”
I run my hands over my face. I’m tired of constantly trying to sort my shitshow of a life out. There’s a gentle knock at the door.
“Clay, if that’s you, fuck off,” Red shouts, and I let out a little laugh. She really doesn’t have a care in the world—she speaks to them however she likes, and I hope I can have that same confidence one day.
“It’s only me,” Rochelle says as she enters. “You okay?”
I nod. “I’ll be okay. Red has read me the riot act.” I laugh. “I’m still pissed, but she’s right, I need to think shit through. I feel like I shouldn’t be in his bed. I can’t even bring myself to look at him.”
“Can we find her another room, Rochelle?” Red asks.
“No, he can find somewhere else to sleep. It’s his fucking fault anyway.” She throws her hands in the air. “These men.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want you to get involved.”
“Too late,” Red says with a grin. “And unless you didn’t get the memo, you’re an ol’ lady now, and we stick together.”
Rochelle sits on the other side of me, grabbing my hand. They didn’t need to give me a place of refuge, but they have.
“Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing,” she says with a slight smile, gauging my reaction. She continues when I don’t protest. “If you think about it, it’ll keep Brandy’s claws away from you.”
“You think so?”
Red looks at her suspiciously. “When has that ever stopped the club whores?”
“Well . . . Clay isn’t like most of the brothers,” she points out.
“I’m just saying, they always like to push the fucking boundaries. They have no morals.”
Rochelle looks at me reassuringly. “But you have us, and if Clay doesn’t stand up for you, we will.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
There’s another knock at the door, and I automatically tense. Rochelle stands and pulls the door open. Clay’s body fills the frame, and I look down and begin fidgeting with my hands. I can’t do this. Rochelle puts her arm out, blocking the doorway.
“It’s my room, Rochelle,” he growls.
“Well, you can find somewhere else to fucking sleep,” she spits, and I love the way she has all the men in their place. I wish I had her courage, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation.
“Belle,” he shouts over her, and I turn away, making sure not to make eye contact because I could quite easily crumble right now. “Belle, I just wanna explain.”
“You made yourself very fucking clear downstairs. You’ve claimed her as your ol’ lady. Now, fuck off and let us do our job,” she shouts, slamming the bedroom door.
“Belle, I just want to help. Let me explain,” he pleads through the closed door. “I’ve fucked up, I should of spoken with you, but just hear me out, please.”
My heart tugs at the vulnerability in his voice, and I feel myself itching to sit with him. I sigh as I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and stand.
“Nuh-uh,” Red also stands, “not a chance. Let him stew.”
“I feel bad,” I mutter, embarrassed.
“Don’t you dare. You haven’t done anything wrong. Lesson one-o-one, always let your biker do the grovelling. He’s at fault here, not you, so let him work for it.”
“Ugh,” I groan in frustration. “Why can’t I just be normal?
It’s so infuriating. I’m constantly second guessing myself.
Liam seems to have taken away any ability I have to think for myself.
My whole life is a mess because of that one person, and just as I was starting to feel more normal, I fall for Clay. ”
They both give each other a knowing look as I continue on my tangent.
“I mean, I know there’s never really a perfect time, but I wanted to sort my life out before I got into another relationship.
And now, look what’s happened. I can’t even do that.
Every fucking time, I get inside my own head, and everything falls apart. I mean, I can’t even keep my children.”
All of a sudden, I’m overwhelmed. The room feels like it’s closing in, and my breathing becomes erratic.
My vision begins to blur, and my throat closes as I try to suck in the air.
I sit on the floor, beginning to see spots, my hair tangling in my hands as I pull on the roots.
Red kneels in front of me, grabbing my hands, untangling them from my hair.
“Look at me,” she pleads, squeezing my hands gently.
“Bella, open your eyes, focus on me.” I open my eyes.
“That’s it, just focus on me. Breathe in, one .
. . two . . . three . . . four,” she says in a soothing tone as she does the same.
“And out. One . . . two . . . three . . . four.” I repeat this a few times, evening out my breathing and allowing the panic attack to subside.
Red remains kneeled in front of me as Rochelle sits beside me.
How did I get so lucky? I don’t deserve their kindness.
I slide my hands out of Reds and run my clammy hands down my jeans.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, self-conscious.
“You never need to apologise,” Rochelle offers reassuringly.
“I’m a mess,” I mumble. “Why would he even want to be with me?” I ask quietly, more to myself than anyone else.
“Because he obviously feels something for you,” Red soothes. “It will all work out, I promise. These men may be arseholes at times, but they’ll fight with everything to protect you, and he’ll help make you whole again. Don’t give up on him before you’ve even given it a shot.”
I nod, suddenly exhausted from the events of the day. At least for now, I’m not running.
Clay
I sit outside the bedroom door like a chastised fucking schoolboy, wishing she would just talk to me, give me a chance to explain.
I know I’ve been an arse, and that’s exactly why Pres pushed me.
I either claimed her there and then, or I would have to risk her, risk everything.
There was no way I could keep her safe, help her if she wasn’t here.
I hear the commotion when she starts panicking, and I want nothing more than to burst in there, hold her, support her, but I know I’m the last person she wants to see right now.
I feel a sense of relief when Red and Rochelle leave the room, shutting the door delicately behind them.
Rochelle glares at me, standing in front of the closed door, her arms folded over her chest. I pull myself to stand.
“She okay?” I ask, nodding at the door.
“Yes, no thanks to you,” Rochelle spits. “I thought you were better than the rest of them, Clay.”
“What’s that supposed to fucking mean?” I growl under my breath, not wanting to cause a commotion outside my room. She shakes her head in disappointment, walking away without so much as another word.
Red stands there protecting the entrance to my room.
“You know what Rochelle’s like—she makes it her priority to protect the ol’ ladies, and well, seeing as you just claimed Bella, you need to face the wrath of Rochelle when you fuck up,” she shrugs, smirking, almost relishing in my inner turmoil.
“I had no fucking choice, Red.”
“We always have a choice, Clay, and you more than anyone should know that.”
“I fucked up. I went against Pres’s wishes, and he forced my hand. It was the only way I could protect her.”
“Well, now, you have to tread carefully. Give her time. You can’t waltz in there and manipulate her or you’ll be no better than Liam.” I flex my knuckles at the sheer mention of his name. He was the one to break her, but I was making it my duty to save her.
“I want to explain. Drifter didn’t give me a chance to talk to her. I either did it then or my claim wouldn’t stand. Just tell me she’s okay,” I plead, and Red nods, offering a weak smile.
“Red,” Rock hollers as he approaches us. “Trouble in paradise already?” he laughs. Red slaps him around the back of the head. “Ouch, that fucker hurt.”
“It was supposed to, numb nuts.”
“Congrats, brother,” Rock says as he places his arm around Red, lifting her off the floor into his arms. “But I need my ol’ lady. We’ve got a date in the bedroom. Child-free night.” He winks as he carries her off down the hallway. She kicks her legs as Rock bites her ear.
I place my hand on the door handle.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Red shouts, peering around Rock’s shoulder.
I sigh, removing my hand and placing my palm against the wood. I would have to tread carefully, but at least she was now mine.
I stretch, trying to ease my aching muscles.
The small sofa in the bar is not big enough for my six-foot frame, and my legs dangle over the arm.
The sunrise pierces through the blinds. There was no rest for me last night.
Not only was I aching for Belle to hear me out, but without her in my arms, my nightmares were back haunting me, reminding me that I can never truly escape my past. Ever since that first night when Belle comforted me, my nightmares have been held at bay with her presence.
Yet here I am, sleeping in the bar, wearing the same clothes I was in yesterday.
The low hum of a headache from the whiskey I consumed after I’d royally fucked up buzzes around my head.
The door swings open and Hazel waltzes in, humming some tune I don’t recognise.
I groan, wanting to be left to wallow in my own self-pity.
“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss, sitting up and running my hands over my face. I wince at the swelling around my eye.
“Good morning to you as well,” she tuts, making her way behind the bar, grabbing a tray as she goes. She collects the dirty glasses, chinking them together as she continues to hum away, pissing me off further.
“For fuck’s sake, Hazel,” I shout across the room before standing and making my way to the kitchen.
“Well, you’re all rainbows and sunshine this morning, aren’t you?”
I swing open the kitchen door, and the smell of coffee fills my nostrils first, then I see her sitting at the table. Her eyes are puffy, and she glances at me briefly before looking back down to her coffee.
“Morning,” I mumble.
Nothing. Just silence. I place a mug under the coffee machine and turn to look at her, resting my back against the kitchen side.
She looks tired, bags bunching under her eyes.
The sadness in her face reminds me of the first night I met her, and I scold myself that this time, I’m the one responsible for putting it there. A lump forms in my throat.
“You sleep okay?” I croak, my voice hoarse.
She stares into her coffee, not even looking up at me. She blows gently across her cup and closes her eyes, inhaling the scent. I turn and begin making my coffee, letting out a loud sigh.
“I’m sorry, Belle. I just . . .” I hear the door shut, and when I turn around, I find an empty chair where she was sitting moments ago.
Her half-drunk coffee cup left on the table.
Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to put this shit right if she won’t even talk to me?
I take out the sugar from the cupboard above, slamming the door shut, hearing the cups chinking together. I shake my head.
“Alright, brother.” Rock pats me on the back. Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t even hear him come in. I nod, not trusting myself to talk. “She’ll come round,” he says, taking out a mug.
“I fucked up, Rock. I’ve never fucking felt like this about someone before. I made a vow never to get involved with another woman after what happened with my brother, and yet here I am like a fucking fish outta water.”
“Man, you don’t need to tell me. Look at how I was with Red. She made me crazy.” I nod, remembering how he fell for her and Meli with no warning.
“Fuck, I need to ride,” I say, throwing my coffee down the drain. I need to feel the road beneath my wheels, with nothing but my own thoughts to decipher.