Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Danika
My back straightens in a hurried manner, and I practically climb the wall trying to escape as I lock eyes with Hush.
He stands there in the same clothes he wore to the gym. Sweatpants hanging low with his T-shirt still dampened with sweat. He swallows, his mouth parting but keeps his attention glued on me.
Why is he here?
Then the obviousness of the situation hits me like a brick to the face.
I have the wrong room.
I’m in the wrong freaking room.
“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. This is not how it looks.” I tighten my grip on the towel and heat rises on my cheeks and then to my ears.
It’s then that Hush takes a quick glance down at my half naked body. His face contorts into a painful look which kind of hurts. Am I that disgusting to him? Does he see me as tainted. When he flinched at my touch back at the gym, is that why? Is he that repulsed of me?
I push away the disappointment. “I thought—”
“What are you doing?” It’s not an angry tone but still deep.
More like… what are you doing in my room, you crazy whore.
Well, I added the whore part because clearly that’s what I look like.
What do they call the women who hang around here looking for a one-night stand?
For a chance at one of these insane looking men to rock their worlds…
Hang-arounds, I believe is the word.
“This was supposed to be charger’s old room.
” With a dramatic pause, I snap my eyes closed.
“Shit. Let me start over. Jules invited me to breakfast, but I was sweaty from the workout this morning, so she offered me Charger’s old room to shower.
And since you’re standing here, I think it’s safe to assume I messed up. ”
A few agonizing seconds crawl before his mouth twitches up. “You following me?”
My heart stutters at the small joke he just made.
It’s not hilarious but considering I laid that same accusation on him before outside the diner, it is funny to me.
The stiffness in my body releases a bit even though it’s incredibly awkward standing here with a piece of cotton just barely long enough to cover my lady parts.
I am heavily reminded when droplets of water hit his hardwood floor.
Shit.
He visibly tenses, his body now stiff as a board and those eyes of his turn empty with only darkness again. It is way too familiar. I’ve seen it in him before, and I’ve seen it in myself. My heart thumps like mad as he stares at the picture over my shoulder.
“I swear I didn’t touch anything. I would never go through your things…” My words stop when he steps closer, his frame towering over me. I look up, my eyes darting between his as he stares at me. The scent of him swirling around us like shadows.
He reaches out, his arm brushing my bare one without a flinch this time, and I swallow hard.
He takes the picture, and a flash of sadness overcomes him when he admires it. “Did you touch this?” He doesn’t look up but there’s a meanness in the way he asks, and it’s a tone I thought I’d never here.
I told him I didn’t touch anything.
A stupid lie.
I nervously shake my head. “No.”
The woman in the picture belongs to him and a certain weird panic forms in the middle of my chest. The feeling scrapes my insides from how badly I need to know if it’s her.
But how could it not be? If it is… who is she?
A sister. Friend. Are they together No, I would have seen her around.
Everything is hitting me at once and my mind is a jumbled mess.
This doesn’t make sense. It can’t be her.
At his full height, he stares down at me. A warmness engulfs me like a blanket from how close he stands. I don’t know what to do. What to say.
He traces my body one last time. “I’ll let you get dressed.” And with that, he leaves and I let out a long breath of relief.
I dip my head trying to regain the blood from my feet. Had he been here any longer, I might have passed out.
Holy shit.
I can’t seem to pry my staring eyes away from the closed door, as if he’s going to walk back through it.
I throw on the same clothes I wore to the gym, which are gross but not like I have a choice, and head down to breakfast.
Downstairs, the guys, and their women flow in. Hush is at the end of the table more isolated from the others and the only empty seat is between him and Chloe. My stomach drops realizing that’s probably where I’ll be sitting.
“Danika. So good to see you, honey. Grab some food. Enjoy.” Maggie kisses my cheek, taking me by surprise.
“Thank you for having me,” I reply in return, her smiling with a nod.
Tank sends a friendly wink my way then goes back to chatting with Bullet.
Brass, who I recognize from the diner slides up next to me as a food line starts to form.
He’s another godly attractive club member.
With brown skin that makes his light eyes pop, and tattoos that radiate a type of lethalness like the others.
But for some reason, he feels more intense. More dangerous if crossed.
“I don’t think we’ve properly met. Name’s Brass.” His innocent grin flashes over me.
“Danika,” I greet in return. We haven’t exactly introduced ourselves, but with him being a bit intimidating, it makes my pulse quicken. And that makes me angry because the old me would never have been this way. I’d have died for a chance to talk, maybe flirt with a man like this.
“Beautiful name.”
There’s a familiar scoff. “Stop flirting with my friend. She’s not interested in any of you Neanderthals.” Tequila squeezes her way between us.
Yes, I’m nervous, and had it been another man outside of here, I might have clammed up, but I feel safe in their club. I don’t believe any of them would intentionally harm me.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say over my friend’s shoulder, but Tequila blocks his view as she fully puts herself in front of him. Considering her stature and his, a glimpse of amusement crawls over his expression.
“Jules said you’re coming out with us tomorrow night.” A touch of excitement sounds in her voice.
As the line moves, I stop in front of a huge fruit platter and grab an apple. “If I’m not imposing.”
“Of course not!” Her smile drops. “But if you think it’ll be too much. She’ll understand.”
“Honestly…” I juggle the plate in my hand scooping up a spoonful of scrambled eggs. “I’m looking forward to it. I used to go out all the time and I kind of miss it. Miss the dancing. The innocent fun. All that stuff really.”
A huge smile spreads across her face. “That’s good, Dan. That’s really good.”
I pause with a piece of bacon hovering over my plate. It is good, isn’t it?
“Pretty girl from the diner!” Chloe comes running over to me.
“Chloe. She has a name and it’s Danika,” Jules says from beside Charger who just pulled her chair out for her.
As she sits down, he places a small pillow at her back.
“Okay, how the hell am I supposed to go out like this? My ankles are swollen, my back feels like someone ran it over with their car, and I’ve had this annoying as shit nausea all morning.
” Jules lets out a heavy sigh, sending a strand of hair in the air.
“Mommy said a bad word!”
“Mommy is tired, kid. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Throttle ruffles her hair and Chloe bats at his hand.
“We can always have it at our house so you can put your feet up, pretty girl.” Charger massages Jules’s shoulders.
“No. That’s not fun. I’m going to the bar, dammit.”
“Another bad word!” Chloe points and small laughter erupts around us. Including mine.
“But I thought you said—”
“I know what I said, Zachary. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to go,” Jules quips and I’m assuming the use of his real name means she’s dead serious about going. Pregnancy hormones and all.
Charger backs away with surrendering hands and out of sight of his irate fiancé.
“When are you due again, love?” Tank asks, drenching a piece of waffle in syrup.
“Not soon enough.” Jules sighs back into her seat and against her pillow. “We already had to move the wedding up to March just in case this baby decided to pop on out of here.” She rubs her swollen belly. “Not exactly the spring wedding I wanted.”
“It’ll be wonderful, dear. You’ll see.” Maggie pats her arm before sitting down next to Chain who’s already shoveling food inside his mouth.
“She’s right. It’ll be perfect,” I find myself adding to the conversation and everyone looks at me with smiles and grins before going back to their plates.
“Can we go sit now?”
I look down at the cute kid who’s gripping my arm with a mission. “Yes. Let’s go eat.” I throw her a friendly smile.
Chloe drags me to the empty chair, the one I was afraid of sitting in. The leftover embarrassment still stains my cheeks and swirls in the pit of my stomach. Not to mention the extra questions lingering around. My mind starts to wander, taking me back to a place in time where it’d all happened.
The noise from a chair screeching against the floor jolts me back and Hush glances up at me from where my feet are still planted. I avert my attention away from him and quickly find my seat. But since it’s a tight squeeze, I end up brushing my leg against his and my stomach churns.
It's painfully obvious how awkward I am and with Hush only inches from me, it makes his presence incredibly deadly.
The chills finally vacate but with such little space, if I raise my arm, both our elbows will touch and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, remembering his flinch every time I’d lay my hand on his arm.
“Sorry,” I whisper while keeping my eyes on Bullet who sends a napkin airplane across the table at Chloe. She giggles.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” The grainy, quiet voice sounds in my ear causing goosebumps to rise.
“I was in your room. Without permission. And…” I pause moving in more, but when I turn to look at him, I’m fully aware of how close we are.
In this moment, the room shrinks and everyone around us fades away.
God. He is stunning. The slight slant of his dark eyes brings out his hard features so well. Almost like they add to the dramatic sharp edges of his chiseled jaw.
He breaks first, trying to create space. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m a hang-around or something.”
“You’re nothing like them,” he tells me pushing his plate away, to make room for his thick, tattooed forearm.
My focus falls on his hand. The one with the butterfly. I noticed it the other day while he sat at the bar. It was a shock, but the more I glance at it, the more it brings an odd comfort over me.
I reach behind my ear, grazing the minuscule size butterfly inked on my skin. Sure, butterflies are a common image for a tattoo, but then why does it feel so special sharing it with him?
He looks down at his plate not noticing the touch to my ink.
I wonder if he’s seen it. The butterfly tattoo.
After my parents passed, a friend from college tattooed it on me.
I guess at the time, it meant freedom. Not from my parents, but for them.
Flying high in the sky in hopes they were looking down at me from above.
Hoping they’d be proud. Can’t say if they saw me now, they’d feel the same.
I wouldn’t want them to know about the pain I’d endured.
The suffering. In a twisted way, I’m glad they aren’t here to know about it.
“Dani, can you make paper airplanes?” Chloe asks, holding out a clean napkin for me.
I swallow then glance down at her holding the paper. My father used to call me Dani. Hearing it again stirs a thick emotion inside me.
With a smile, non-forced, because hearing it warms my chest, I take the napkin from her and start forming the shape of an airplane. After I’m done, I hand it back.
“Woah. Yours is way better than Uncle Bullets.”
I chuckle catching a playful look of betrayal from across the table.
Bullet scoffs out a chuckle. “Shiiiii—I mean, shoot. You’re right, kid.”
Chloe studies the well-formed shape of an airplane in her hands. “Can you teach me how to make one? I don’t know if I can do it.” The doubt that forms in her eyes breaks me. It’s not about making a paper airplane, it’s much more than that.
“You can do anything you want to, Chloe. You just have to believe in yourself.”
She looks up at me and smiles. I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince. Me or her.
I quickly grab my fork poking a piece of food on my plate as my body ignites from the penetration of Hush’s stare. Pretending that his gaze doesn’t affect me, I shove scrambled eggs into my mouth. And never pay him another glance.