Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CRASH
The entire ride back to the clubhouse, anger simmered in my chest. I was furious with for pulling this stunt, but even more so for getting Stevie involved in her shit.
There is no doubt in my mind that they knew exactly who Stevie was when they started tailing her. I am certain they followed her all the way to the mall, or took the opportunity of her being there and it infuriates me that Valarie had put her in harm's way for no good reason.
Stevie is not part of this fucking mess, but I know that Val will target her to get to me. I fell for her bullshit again, but now I will leave it up to Racer to deal with her.
When Stevie told me what she overheard, I wanted to pull her into my body and keep her safe. Something in me turned fiercely protective, making it impossible to let her go.
All I could think about was tracking down those bastards and making them pay for frightening her. Normally, I’m the cool-headed one, but just the thought of Stevie getting hurt sent my blood boiling.
When she told me that Val had bragged about fucking me days after we slept together, I knew then that Val was playing games. It is strange to think how much people can change, and why.
Valarie was never this vindictive as far as I recall, but looking back, certain events come to mind that make me reconsider my typical perception of her.
Arriving at the club, I pass the prospect with a nod, then park my bike next to Rogue’s. Storing my helmet, I walk inside and out of this heat. My T-shirt sticks to my skin and I need a fucking shower but I need to speak to Pres and VP first.
Scanning the room, it is empty apart from the prospect behind the bar and Flame playing pool.
“Have you seen Racer or Target?”
“VP is on a run, and Pres is in his office. Why?
“I got some information I need to fill him in on.”
“I’ll join you,” he says, following me down to Racer’s office.
I knock on the door and he calls for us to come in.
Pres is sitting behind his desk, papers scattered across the top while he types on the laptop in front of him. Looking up, he nods to the chairs.
“Sit.” We do as he says, as he leans back in his seat.
He eyes me, his fingers locked except for his forefingers that steeple, tapping on his chin.
“Savage said that you left to go see your girl.”
“Yeah. She had not been returning my calls or texts and something didn’t feel right.”
“He watched over your other girl, right?”
“Valarie will never be my girl— that title belongs to Stevie. If she will still have me. Fuck.” I scrub my hands over my face, hating this fucking divide between me and her.
“You said that you had some information for Pres,” Flame urges me.
“Stevie called me, she sounded scared, but she hung up before she could tell me what was wrong.”
“Why?”
“Valarie came into my room and spoke.”
My body feels heavy and deflated at the same time.
“So, Stevie thought you were cheating on her?” I nod, my fingers flexing in frustration.
“Yeah. I needed to go to her to find out what had happened and to clear the air.”
“How did that work out for you?” Pres asks, a slight smirk on his face.
“Fucking shit.”
“Talk to me.”
I fill him in on everything that Stevie told me, including what Valarie did. By the time I am finished, my anger has built back up again and I am shaking. Flame looks just as angry; he fucking hates games.
“Is your girl okay?” Racer asks.
“She is fine. A bit shaken and feeling like I did her dirty, thanks to Val. She asked for some time to think everything over.”
“Are you going to give her time?” Flame asks, grinning.
“I told her a day or two, but fuck that. She is mine and I need to make sure that she knows that.”
“You are all a bunch of fucking idiots for wanting to keep women, but you are adults apparently. So, it is all on you for all the drama and blue balls you will get.” Racer adds.
“You are an old cynic, Pres. Coming home to the one woman for the rest of your life is not all that bad. If you click in all the right ways, then love, respect, and hot sweaty sex will be for the rest of your days,” Flame throws out there, and I hold my fist up for him to bump.
“Damn, straight,” I add.”
“Fuckers.”
“What are we going to do about Valarie?” I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees, watching Pres.
At this point I am okay with letting her go; getting her far away from me and the club would be fucking safer. Yet, I want to keep an eye on her and make sure that she is not causing any more trouble for Stevie or the club. It is a twisted situation.
I also want to be with Stevie all the fucking time— have her with me, feel her again, because I can remember how fucking soft and hot she was when I sank into her.
But this distance between us is all over a fucking lie, and me not being able to talk to her about club business.
“I told Stevie why Val was here.” I sigh. “I know it is club business, but fuck, she was ready to fucking leave me and to never come back.”
Racer looks at me and I think he will fucking shoot me in the ass, but he nods.
“I get it. It is not deep club business. Just make sure that is all she knows.”
“Got it.”
“Valarie stays here for now. You need to get in contact with your friends in the race world and set up a buy-in.”
“Will do, Pres. Alex is the one to pay, so I will give him a call and get to work on the car. I need to make sure she is tuned up to perfection.”
“You going with the Nissan or the Toyota?”
“The Nissan,” I reply.
“Good. Check and double check every fucking inch of that car before the race date. No fucking mistakes.” He gives me a hard look.
“I know, Pres. That car will get the best treatment any car can have. No one will touch her except me.”
He nods.
“Good. Keep me posted on that friend of yours and the race details. You can fill everyone in next time we have church.”
“On it.”
“Okay, now fuck off out of my office. I need to get these fucking invoices sorted.”
“You need help, Pres. Get a chick in to do some of the paperwork for you.” Flame laughs.
“Don’t need a chick for that, brother. They have their other uses.” He chuckles before looking down at his desk and all the paperwork.
“You mean like Mindy?” Flame laughs, but Racer’s face hardens.
“Fuck off, now— before I put you on toilet duty,” Pres snaps.
Mindy is Racer’s crazy ex-wife. She thinks she still can rule his life, even though she has remarried some rich old guy who is at death’s door.
“Come on.” I push Flame toward the door.
We walk down the hall back to the main room, and I scan it for Val but do not see her. Savage is at the bar, scrolling on his phone with a candy bar in one hand.
“Brother, the bitch is in her room. Her mouth sure is fucking trashy. Called me all sorts of names. Did you know that gay men are the worst of the worst, are viler than child fiddlers?” He laughs, and humor shines in his eyes.
“She fucking did not?”
“Oh, she did. So a man who fucks with kids is safer than a gay man, according to that cunt in there. No clue what you saw in her,” Savage says around a mouthful of chocolate.
“Fucking hell,” I grunt. “Sorry, brother.
“Not on you, handsome. You cannot control the shit people think, say, or do. That is on them.”
“I know, but fuck. It is crazy how much she has changed.” I scrub my hands over my face.
“Life does that to you. She has been through some shit, Crash, you know that. Hell, you lived through some of it with her. But that does not excuse her behavior now. She is an adult, and knows right from wrong, but you can’t ever take responsibility for someone else’s actions.”
I think over his words, and I know he is right but that does not take away the shitty feeling that I am the reason she is here.
Our history brought her here to the club, but her intentions are far more than getting back into my bed. I know that now— in how she told some bullshit lies to Stevie to hurt her and to keep her from me, and in the way she is treating my brothers, my found family.
“I can’t fucking wait for all this bullshit to be over with, so I can get things in a good place with Stevie.”
“I hear you, man. She seems to be the complete opposite to trash-mouth, so maybe try and keep this one, okay.” He winks at me.
“I plan to, brother.”
My phone rings before he can say anything else. Alex’s name pops up on the screen.
“Hey, man,” I answer.
“Logan, or should we call you Crash now?” He laughs.
“Crash is good.”
“Man, you did anything but crash, so fuck knows how you got that nickname, but whatever.”
“Long story for another day. You got me a race?”
“I got you thee race. Five-thousand buy-in. You race three other drivers, and win, to get into the final race. You know the drill.”
“I do. I have the cash for it. Pay on the night, still?”
“Yeah. Hey, man. We heard a rumor that Val got beat up. Is that true?”
I look in the direction of the hall that leads to the rooms where Val is staying, and sigh.
“Yeah. It is true; she is here.”
“Fuck, man— she came to you? I thought you were seeing Stevie? That was the word on the street. Well, the fat mouth of Val, anyway.”
Alex, Oscar, and Carlos never liked Val. They always thought she wanted the fame and power that came with street racing. They said she was like the ‘Grid girls’ you see in racing car movies.
“I am with Stevie, sort of. Things are fucking complicated right now thanks to Val and her big mouth.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, a tension headache starting to build. “I just need to focus on fixing my car up, and getting ready for the race. Get me the details. You all racing?”
He laughs. “Fuck no. I am not racing if the great Logan-Crash-Vaughan is racing. Oscar, and Carlos will be; they want to prove that they have gotten better than you, my friend.” Now I laugh.
“Well, we will see.” I sit down on a chair and lean forward. “Hey, listen. I know you know everything, about everything to do with your races, but have you heard anything about drugs being sold at the race?”
“Fuck, man, I don’t control what people do. You have seen how crazy it can get. People are everywhere, fuck knows what is being passed around.”
I sigh. “I know, sorry.”
I hear someone call him, and he replies but it is muted.
“Listen, I have to go. The guys are calling me to help with a car we have here. As for the drugs, I will get an ear to the floor but, Logan, keep an eye on things closer to home, okay.”
“Okay.” We end the call.
Leaning back in my seat, I feel like I could sleep for three days straight.
“You good?” Keeping my eyes closed, I nod to Savage.
“Yeah. Just fucking tired, man.”
“Go have a nap, that might help. Or get some sugar and caffeine into you. Maybe jerk off; I hear orgasms help with headaches.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, maybe.”
He slaps me on the shoulder and leaves, no doubt going back out to the garage.
Needing to hear my girl’s voice, I dig out my cell phone to call her. Tapping on her name, it rings four times, before she rejects the call.
Fuck.
She will get her time. But like I told my brothers— I will give her some time but not as much as she is expecting.
Stevie Merrick is mine.