Chapter 13
Ella
I slid into the booth, kicking myself for not asking Ryan more questions when he suggested coming here. Pop had talked about the club’s bar before, and I knew that Jagger managed it, but he’d never mentioned the actual name of it that I could recall. If he had, I would never have agreed to come here with Ryan.
It didn’t take long for a server to come around to take our drink orders, a rum and Coke for me and a local IPA for Ryan.
“We’re the only company distributing for this particular brewery,” he told me proudly as he took a sip from his tall, frosted glass. He offered to let me taste it, but I didn’t much care for beer. I was more than content with my drink.
I forced myself to relax, and the drink helped, as did the fact that none of the other MC members seemed to be here except for Jagger, and another man about his age who sported a blond mohawk. I’d never seen him before, but he was wearing the club’s cut.
The conversation flowed easily over the next half-hour as we discussed and compared various bars and restaurants around town. I agreed when Ryan suggested ordering another round – although I switched to plain Coke since I didn’t like to have more than one drink if I was driving.
I was laughing at a story he was telling about an employee’s ridiculous excuses for coming to work late, when I heard a deep, growly voice coming from behind me.
“Having fun, sugar?”
I jumped as King suddenly appeared next to the table, looming over us for a moment before shocking the hell out of me by bending down to drop a kiss on the top of my head.
He greeted Ryan curtly as he straightened to his full height, and braced his right hand along the back of the booth where I was seated.
“Simpson.”
“It’s good to see you, King. I take it you know Ella?” Ryan returned, looking uncomfortable at the scowl on King’s face.
“Yeah, Ella and I are very close.” My spine grew rigid at the implied intimacy in his tone. I watched as Ryan tried to decipher exactly what King meant by his response.
Before I could say a word, King laid his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently before sliding up under my hair to cup the back of my neck. Goosebumps broke out on my skin, and I fought the urge to shiver. I glared up at him, which did absolutely nothing to deter the man. He smirked at me, capturing and keeping my gaze as he directed his next words to Ryan.
“Jagger needs to speak to you about increasing the next order for Inferno, Fallen Angels, and the bar at our clubhouse, Simpson. I’ll keep Ella company while you’re gone.”
It was not a suggestion.
Ryan reluctantly excused himself, and I watched helplessly as he strode across the bar to speak with Jagger, who greeted him with a knowing smirk on his face. King released his hold on my neck, and I expected him to slide onto the bench seat across from me that Ryan had just vacated. But no, the cocky pain-in-the-ass sat down next to me, crowding me in the booth and giving me no choice but to scoot over to accommodate his bulky frame. I took a deep breath as I prepared to give him a piece of my mind, but I was momentarily distracted by the scent of warm leather and cedar that enveloped me.
“Do you wanna tell me why the hell you’re on a goddamned date in the middle of my bar, sugar?”
“Excuse me?” Yeah, that sure as hell snapped me out of my distraction.
King narrowed his eyes as he leaned in closer, trapping me between his body and the wall.
“How long have you’ve been dating him?” His accusing tone and scowling face made it clear that he felt that I was in the wrong here.
“I’m not dating anyone. I would never have had sex with you if I were,” I hissed.
King eased back slightly, giving me a little bit of breathing room. He looked at me speculatively, then arched a brow.
“That’s good to know, El. Real good. So, why the hell are you in the middle of my bar having drinks with that asshole?”
Well, now, that just pissed me off. I took a deep breath again, studiously ignoring the spine-tingling scent that I was coming to associate with King. Then I let him have it.
“First of all,” I started, ticking off the points on my fingers, “Ryan is not an asshole. He is a very nice man, as a matter of fact, and I enjoy his company.” I tried not to flinch at the growl – the literal grumbling growl – that emanated from King’s throat at my words.
“Secondly,” I ticked off another finger, “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything I do. A random fuck does not give you any kind of rights where I’m concerned. And thirdly, how dare you imply to Ryan that there’s something between us. This isn’t high school, and I’m not the prize in some kind of ridiculous pissing contest between the two of you!”
He barked out a laugh, but there was no actual amusement behind the sound.
“First of all,” He mimicked my actions as he ticked off the points on his own fingers. “Ryan Simpson is an asshole who picks up women in this bar all the damned time.”
I huffed as I interrupted him. “So what? Am I supposed to believe that you don’t?”
He ignored me, the tic of his clenched jaw the only indication that he’d even heard what I said.
“Secondly, it was a helluva lot more than a random fuck, sugar, and you damned well know it. And thirdly,” he ticked off another finger, “there is very definitely something between us. Simpson needs to understand that and back the fuck off.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at, but –“
“Let’s find somewhere a little more private for this conversation.”
I almost screamed in frustration as he slid from the booth, dragging me by the hand along with him. At the last second, I had the presence of mind to grab my purse from the table, not comfortable leaving it behind. I quickly glanced around to see if anyone else noticed what was happening. There were a few sets of eyes trained on us – some surprised and others amused – and I decided that he was right. We didn’t need to disturb the other bar patrons with the argument we were clearly about to have.
“Ella and I need to use the office for a bit, Jag.”
I flushed at his matter-of-fact statement, partly from embarrassment at being the center of attention, but mostly from anger at his high-handedness. King wove between the tables, keeping a firm hold of my hand as I trailed along behind him. I caught the wide grin on Jagger’s face at the same time I saw the irritation that Ryan couldn’t quite hide. He was clearly not happy that King was stealing me away, but it was obvious that he also didn’t want piss off one of his biggest customers by openly objecting to it. I gave him a sickly smile, hoping it conveyed my apologies for the way things had turned out.
King hustled us down a darkened hallway, stopping briefly as he unlocked a door marked “Employees Only”. He flipped on the light as he ushered me into the room, then closed and locked the door behind us. Since I no longer had to worry about making a scene in the middle of the bar, I opened my mouth to unleash the fury that had been building. I propped my hands on my hips – a sure sign that I was about to let loose – and took a deep breath to calm myself so I wouldn’t scream like a banshee at the man.
“Dammit, King, what the hell are –“
“Dante,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“That’s my name. Dante. Use it.”
He placed his hands on my waist and pushed me up against the door, dislodging my hands from my hips in the process. I was so startled – and so livid – that I just stared up at him, completely at a loss for words. He took another step forward, so that his body was pressed against mine. I brought my hands up to his chest and pushed against him in a vain attempt to put some space between us. He shook his head slowly as he captured my hands in his, then pressed them against the door on either side of my head. He held them in place as he dipped his head and ran his nose along my check and jaw, then whispered in my ear.
“I haven’t seen you in three damned days, and I’m in desperate need of a little sugar.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You think you can just waltz in here and demand to pick up where we left off, three days ago ?” I screeched, pushing against his chest again. He immediately released me and took a step back. His eyes narrowed on mine as he studied my face, as if trying to figure out what was happening.
“You’re upset because I didn’t call or text you,” he concluded, looking pleased as hell with himself for figuring it out. The man was clueless. Abso-fucking-lutely clueless.
“Upset? No,” I scoffed. “Pissed off? You’d better believe it, asshole.”
“Look, El, I was busy –“
“So busy that you didn’t have a few seconds to spare to send me a quick text in response to my message to you, or to pick up the phone when I called? Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t have one free moment to let me know you weren’t actually ghosting me after we fucked?” I cocked a brow in disbelief.
I could almost see the ‘oh, shit’ moment of realization in the expression that crossed his face before he hung his head.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, ya think?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my snark.
He heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Based on how tousled the dark strands were, it was far from the first time tonight he’d done that.
“I’m sorry, sugar. So fuckin’ sorry. I’m not used to being accountable to anybody about where I’m going or what I’m doing. I’ll have to get used to that.”
“Don’t bother on my account,” I shot back, causing him to frown.
“What does that mean?” he asked warily.
“It means you don’t owe me any explanations, just like I don’t owe you any either. Now, we’re done here, so I’m leaving.”
“We aren’t fuckin’ done, woman, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you leave until we get this shit sorted.”
I tried to turn around to open the door, but he made that impossible as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled against him. I focused my gaze on the black leather covering his left shoulder, stubbornly refusing to look at him.
He sighed and dropped a small kiss on the top of my head, catching me off-guard with the sweet, gentle gesture, then he dropped his arms and stepped back again.
“I am sorry, Ella, please believe that. You’re right. I should have called you. I wish I had. I missed you, and I wanted to talk to you, but…fuck, it’s complicated,” he sighed again. After a moment’s hesitation, he continued, “There are gonna be times when I can’t explain everything to you because it’s club business, and we don’t discuss that outside of the patched club brothers, for your protection as well as ours. This is one of those times. I couldn’t reach out to you, but I should have had Cowboy or one of the others let you know that things were taking longer to resolve than I’d planned.” He cupped his hand under my chin, raising my head so that I had no choice but to look at him.
“I would have appreciated that, so I wasn’t left feeling like some random hookup you’d fucked and forgotten about.”
“Trust me, sugar, you are unforgettable. I’ll get better at making sure you know that.”
I shook my head, and he hurried on before I could say a word. “Look, I get it. I fucked up. If I’m honest, it probably won’t be the last time I fuck up, either, but I promise you this. I learn from my mistakes, and I won’t make the same one twice.”
“I learn from mine, too. I already made the mistake of letting a man treat me as an afterthought for years. I’m not doing that again.” I looked at him beseechingly, my anger from before being replaced by sadness as I tried to make him understand.
“I’m not sure what you want with me, but I don’t think I’m cut out for this. Despite what happened between us, I’m not into casual sex. I don’t expect a commitment from every man I date, but if I’m sleeping with him, I’d better be the only one he’s with. I have trust issues, so I don’t think I can be OK with secrets, or with half-naked women like Star around you all the time. We had a good time together, King. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Dante,” he insisted, then heaved a sigh. “Look, I can’t claim to be perfect, but I’m not that piece of shit you were married to. I’ve never cheated on a woman in my life, even when my own piece of shit ex was stepping out on me. You don’t have to worry about Star or any other woman. Yes, there are things I can’t tell you about the club because they aren’t just my secrets. They involve my brothers, too. I will promise you that even if I can’t tell you exactly what I’m doing sometimes, I’ll make sure someone is in contact with you, even if it can’t be me for some reason.”
“I can’t do this,” I told him again softly. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I knew I needed to stand my ground. “Goodbye, Dante.”
“Dammit, Ella, don’t do this. Let’s talk this out.”
He reached for my hand, but I pulled out of his grasp and opened the door. I walked out and started down the hall, pausing for the briefest of seconds when I heard something smash against the wall of the office.
“ Fuck! ” he yelled angrily, and the sound echoed through the hallway despite the music now being played in the main area of the bar. I took a deep breath and kept walking.
I was blinking away tears by the time I got to my SUV. I hit the button for my hands-free phone connection, commanding it to call Camille
“Hey, Ellie-belle, what’s shakin’?”
“I ran into King. So, the good news is that he says he really was busy, and he apologized for not contacting me. The bad news is that I just ended things with him anyway.”
Dead silence greeted my announcement, then she sucked in a breath. “Well, shit. Come on over, and I’ll break out the wine.”
I started to laugh, then my breath caught in my throat as the tears loomed again. I swallowed hard, willing myself not to cry. “I can’t have more than one glass. I need to drive home later.”
“All right, then I’ll break out the ice cream instead.”
“I’m on my way.”