11. Chapter 11
Myth
I looked at Flash, and the two idiots who were hoping to prospect for us once Flash integrates into our club and patches in. They couldn’t meet my eye. The bullet hole in the ground right by the gatehouse told me I already knew the reason why I was so mad, but I wanted to hear it for myself.
“Why is there a bullet hole in my gate?” I asked, my voice as level as I could get it.
“She—”
“She?” I cut Flash off. “Are you saying you let my ol’ lady leave the compound when I gave you explicit instructions she wasn’t to leave?”
Flash pulled a piece from behind his back. A piece I recognised very well. I took it off him, knowing exactly how he got it.
Fucking minx.
I was a little hard knowing she took charge like that. She was still my Rox inside.
But I was also a little annoyed I didn’t get to see her after she saw those tattoos I left on her.
“Do you think you can handle keeping any enemies out if I give that order?” I barked at them, shoving my gun in my waistband.
“Yes, Prez.”
I headed toward the clubhouse, down to my bedroom where I saw the scrunched up note on the bed. A smirk landed on my face when I saw the opened lockbox.
Fucking hell. I knew I should have changed that code. Then again, she’d been the only one to know this secret of mine. The fact she handed back the gun for Flash to give to me told me she still loved me.
She knew the history of that gun. She knew I’d be broken if it was lost or taken.
But she was definitely pissed off.
I slid my phone from my pocket and called the only one who could help me. Frenzy answered almost immediately.
“What’s up, Prez?”
“Roxana Henning,” I said. “I want you to hack into her bank accounts.”
“Sure. And?”
“Do you have them?”
“Yeah, of course.” How could I think he wouldn’t have had it handled already? It’s why he worked for us. “What you need?”
“Drain them. Move the money to my account.”
“Give me a sec.”
I waited for confirmation, a sly smirk making its way on my face. She may think she was leaving Australia, but there was no way in hell I’d let that happen. She was mine.
“Done.”
“Look for flights under that name to London.”
After a beat, he responded, “None under that name.”
“Any under Roxana period to London?”
“Nope. But there’s someone who’s been looking for Roxana Henning from London, it came up when I searched for her.”
“Who?”
“Beckett Martin, looks like someone she lives with.”
“When did he search last?”
“Last night. Looks like he booked a flight to Sydney though.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up, wondering if he’d have the balls to come to the clubhouse and face me. If he would come to face me for Rox. He’d not succeed, but I’d be impressed.
I put my gun away, locking the box up again, and headed out to the clubhouse main room. Most of the boys were around, chatting and focusing on their jobs for the day. Doom and Fang were sitting by the bar, both smirking toward me. The fuckers.
“You lot have anything interesting to tell me?” I barked at them, annoyed they were seeing me so up in arms. This was not how I thought my afternoon would be going.
“Nothing on the Scorpions,” Doom added. “But I have some of the boys checking it out. Cowboy offered to do some walking for us.”
I nodded. Cowboy was good at what he did. A tracker by nature, he could always get shit sorted on one of his “walks”.
“And you?” I aimed at Fang.
“Don’t get ya knickers in a twist because you got Rox in your head again,” he said. Only he’d be brave enough to call me on my bullshit. “What ya think she was gonna do? Come back, fuck you and want to come home?”
“This is her home. She should be here, whether she’s pissed off at me or not.”
“Did you ever tell her the truth about that night?” Fang queried. I’d tried to put everything about that night behind me, especially what I’d done after it, lost to my misery of losing Rox.
“No. She doesn’t need to know.”
Fang shook his head. “Either way, what you’re doing with her, it’s either gonna end with her back home with us, or she’s going to ruin you. Be smart about it. You’re not kids anymore.”
He pushed off the stool at the bar and headed out of the clubhouse, smoke sticking out of his mouth before he disappeared from sight.
“And I suppose you’re on his side.”
“Didn’t say nothin’ about it. I’ve never heard of Cowboy and Fang talk about her, but the way they were protecting her last night tells me she’s important. Why’d you let her leave?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Your choice, Prez, we always got your back, even when your ol’ lady burns this place to the ground when you fuck up.”
I shook my head, but I hated to admit it, he was right.
My Rox had a temper on her, and she wasn’t afraid of putting her foot down when she was mad. My front gate could attest to that.
I scrubbed my hand down my face and pushed off my stool, heading back to the bedroom to cool off. It still smelled of her, of sex, of everything that I wanted to take back for myself.
She felt it too, I knew she did.
She was just running scared, and that was okay, because now, she’d come storming back and I’d show her this was where she was supposed to be.
There was no way in hell I was letting her leave again. I’d made that mistake once. I was not doing that again.
Rox
My hotel room was packed up, and my phone was fully charged. Or it should have been. Why was it still off? It should have turned back on the second it had enough juice. It always did that when it went flat.
Maybe I was too hesitant to turn it on knowing what I was going to cop from Beck when it loaded.
Fuck.
I’ll turn it on, and then I’ll put it in my bag until I can get to the airport. Then, at least, I could show him I was on my way home.
Home.
Why did it feel like a lie? Why did being back in the clubhouse feel more homey than my life back in London?
I couldn’t think like this. It was a blip. I’d said goodbye to Cam, and when I explained the situation to Grace, she would understand why I needed to flee without a proper goodbye.
My tummy itched, but I pushed it out of my mind. Maybe if I let Beck find me a laser removal clinic, he would forgive me for my transgressions.
Maybe.
He’d been itching to get my ink removed for years, surely, it would help. It couldn’t hurt.
I headed out of the hotel, having already paid online when I booked, and headed to the train station. It was only a few stops until I got to the Airport station, so I closed my eyes to meditate.
My phone was buzzing non-stop in my pocket, probably from the non-stop messages coming my way from one seriously pissed off boyfr—fiancé. Fuck. Why did I keep thinking he was a boyfriend? We’d been engaged for over a year now, surely the title would stick by now, right?
Once I got off at the Airport station, I wheeled my luggage up the escalator. Fuck, maybe I should have booked a ticket on the train. Ha! And chance a look at one of the many, I’m sure are abusive, messages from Beck? No way. I didn’t want to cry through the airport.
Wheeling myself through to the ticket gate, I headed toward a little kiosk and pulled my phone out. Quickly swiping all my notifications away, I opened up the airport app and made a move to book my flight. There was one leaving in three hours.
Signing into my account, I booked the first available seat, but a big red error popped up on the screen.
“Insufficient funds. Please use another payment method.”
What?
I had plenty of money in my account. Putting it down to the airport wifi, I moved into the cue to check my luggage in and tried again.
Same error.
There had to be an issue. My heart began to race, the closer I got to the check in desk. Fuck it, they’ll know how to help me. I strummed my fingers on my passport in my hand nervously, the weight hanging over me with my phone and all its notifications burning in my pocket.
Finally, a counter opened up and I headed toward the girl smiling at me with her perfect hair and perfect uniform.
“Ticket and passport please.”
“Sorry, can you tell me if the airline is having issues? I’ve tried to grab a ticket and it’s not letting me.”
“Oh? I haven’t heard anything. What was the issue?”
“Insufficient funds, but I know I have plenty on that account.”
“Have you checked with your bank? Perhaps they’re having an outage.”
“Oh,” I chuckled, nervously. “I hadn’t even thought of that. How stupid of me.”
“It happens all the time,” she said. “Why don’t you try calling them and hop back in line once it’s sorted, and I can help you then?”
I nodded, moving my luggage bag to the side and logging into my app. It loaded quickly and I checked my account.
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, and my chest seized when I saw my balance.
No, no, no, no…this isn’t possible. I had at least twenty grand on this account. I’d been saving it for years.
What the hell?
I clicked into the transactions to see where it went and why I only had $69 left in the account and there, in black and white, I saw the reason.
My heart told me I should have suspected he would do something to stop me from leaving, but not this. How could he?
Tears pricked in my eyes as I realised I would have to face him. I’d have to tell him I was leaving and I didn’t want him anymore.
Even if it was a lie.
I wasn’t his Rox anymore, and he needed to understand that, as fickle headed as he was.
Dialling his number, a number I should have forgotten over the years, but never had, I waited for his deep voice to answer.
“Afternoon, wife,” he answered, his voice tinged with smugness. “How has your day been?”
“You son of a bitch,” I growled into the phone. “Sixty-nine dollars?”
“It’s a nice round number, don’t you think? Certainly not my favourite thing to do with that combination, but there’s always tonight.”
“You fucking asshole. This is my life, my savings, how could you?”
“It’s not gone, just hidden. I’d never steal from you. Come home and we can talk,” he said, his tone turning from sarcastic to serious.
“Adrian—”
“Where are you?” he asked. I could hear him moving around.
“The airport. Not that I could go anywhere.”
“Come outside to the pick up area.”