Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Bash
The second I stepped through the front door of the clubhouse, I knew exactly where she was.
It’d always been that way.
Hattie Lynn was a magnetic force that pulled everything into her orbit. She was like this beacon in the pitch-black that you had to get closer to. You couldn’t stop it. Lord knew I’d never been able to.
Shoring up my defences, I glanced over, and there she was.
Standing at the bar with a woman I didn’t recognize. I swept my gaze down her luscious curves and barely kept the groan from spilling out.
FUCK ME.
How was it even possible that she was even more beautiful?
She had on these tight black leather pants that hugged her curves like a second skin, showing off that perfect round ass and those long legs that used to wrap around me like they’d never let me go.
Pain speared my chest and I rubbed at the spot. This was my lot in life. I’d given her up, and every day I had to live with what I was missing.
I sighed.
“She’s here, ya’ know,” Roxy’s soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts as she appeared at my side, pressing a cold beer into my hand.
Draping my arm around her shoulders, I gave her a gentle squeeze. Roxy was like a mother to us all. All she wanted was for her boys to be happy.
“Yeah. I know.” I blew out a breath.
“She’s here, Weston Basham,” she repeated slowly, using my full name like she used to when I was a punk kid she was trying to get to listen. “Who knows when she’ll come back again.”
I rubbed my free hand over the back of my neck, tension knotting in my shoulders.
I knew everyone wanted me to fix things with Hattie so she’d come back to Odin, but the reasons I ended us hadn’t changed.
She was a star. She was always meant to be on a stage, singing to crowds of people.
She had a gift, and I wouldn’t be the reason she left it all behind.
That was exactly what she would do, too. It was why I had broken up with her and sent her away all those years ago. I wanted the best for her.
That was what you did, right? You put the person you love first.
That’s what I fucking did, and I lived with the pain of it every day.
“Talk to her. She thinks you stopped loving her. That’s cruel, Bash. I can tell by looking into her eyes that it still haunts her. You have to set the record straight, baby.”
“Yeah,” I rasped. I didn’t want to be the cause of her pain, but I wasn’t sure how to approach her.
How was I supposed to talk to her when we weren’t the same people anymore?
She was a goddamn superstar for crying out loud.
She had more money than everyone in Odin combined.
Not to mention the fact that she fucking hated my guts.
I’d done that to her.
“Be the man I know you are.” With those parting words, Roxy ducked out from under my arm and took off across the room to where Eagle was deep in conversation with Pistol Pete.
I took a swig of my beer and let my eyes drift back to where Hattie was standing.
“Fuck.”
“You okay, brother?” Bane’s voice cut through my thoughts as he came up beside me, a beer dangling from his fingers.
My brothers didn’t know why I’d broken up with Hattie. Hell, most of them thought she’d just left for bigger and better things. I wasn’t sure how Roxy had figured it out, but she had. The woman was like a bloodhound when she wanted to know something.
“I’m fine,” I lied, taking another drink.
Bane stared into my eyes for a long moment, seeing right through my bullshit. “Let me give you some advice my mother gave me when I fucked shit up with Frankie.”
Bane and Frankie had an... interesting story.
He kidnapped her after he found out she cleaned out his offshore bank accounts.
The crazy bastard was beyond pissed–as anyone could imagine– so he decided he was going to break into her father’s mansion–the Mayor’s Mansion.
He’d actually gone to beat her ass because he thought she was a dude.
Imagine his surprise when it turned out she clearly wasn’t.
After getting in a few shots with a baseball bat, he managed to subdue her.
Then he tied her up and brought her back to the clubhouse.
Let’s just say he fucked it up royally and let her go.
He was a miserable bastard while she was gone, too.
So, his Ma’ suggested he kidnap her again, seeing as how it worked out so well the first time.
It was a big fucking mess, but in the end it all worked itself out.
“Our situation is different, brother,” I said, shaking my head. Way different.
Bane cocked a brow. “Is it, though?”
I grunted, not wanting to get into it.
“All I’m saying is if you love her, don’t let her go again. Fuck, don’t even give her a fucking choice.” He shrugged like it was as simple as that as his eyes strayed to Hattie.
“Yo, Hats!”
Her eyes came to him, her brows pulled together in question.
He nodded over to the stage. “Sing us a song like the old times.”
Her friend said something in her ear as her eyes drifted to the stage.
Then she took a long pull from the beer in her hand and gave him a thumbs up.
I watched like a fiend as she ducked between my brothers, making her way to the stage.
Banks offered her a hand as she climbed up the makeshift steps.
Grabbing the mic, she flipped the switch. “Bossy butt Bane wants a song. Y’all okay with that?”
Cheers rang out as Eagle handed her one of his old guitars he kept behind the bar.
She situated the mic onto the stand, then slipped the guitar strap over her shoulders.
She started strumming the cords, and instantly I recognized the tune. Carrie Underwood, Kingdom.
I couldn’t look away. She opened her mouth and belted out the words. She was like an angel.
Couples took to the floor, dancing close.
Bane cooked his finger at Frankie. With a big grin on her face, she came over and fell into his arms. He swayed her back and forth.
As she sang the words, I remembered how she used to play this song on repeat in my truck a million moons ago. I always thought that was going to be our life.
Her eyes found mine in the crowd, and I felt like she was singing right to me.
All too soon the song was over. “Happy, Coop Loop?”
“Yes!” he boomed, letting Frankie loose so she could go back to the table with her girls.
“Don’t give her a fucking choice,” Bane repeated, shrugging like it was as simple as that as he walked away, leaving me standing there with his words echoing in my head.
Don’t even give her a fucking choice.
Why did I want that more than anything else in the world? I missed her so goddamn much.
Fuck.
Sucking in a breath, I steeled myself and made my way across the room to the bar. My heart was pounding like I was about to walk into a fire fight, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I had to be near her. She was like a drug, and I needed a hit.
“How you doing, Songbird?” I asked, shoving my free hand into my jean pocket as I sidled up to her.
She turned to look at me, her blue eyes drawn in agony. “Fine,” she said softly.
Fuck. Roxy was right. Just being near me was hurting her.
Before I could tell her that I was sorry, that I never meant to hurt her, the phone in her hand started ringing. She glanced down at the screen and her face immediately darkened.
“Hello?” she answered cautiously, but almost immediately her expression shifted to anger. “Stop calling me, creep!” she snapped, pulling the phone away from her ear and stabbing the red button.
“Another call?” her friend asked as Hattie shoved the phone back into her back pocket.
What the fuck? Another?
My brows furrowed. “What was that about?”
The woman with Hattie leaned around her body and stuck out a tattooed hand. “Hi, I’m Sondra.”
“Bash,” I said, shaking her hand while my eyes stayed locked on Hattie’s face. She looked tense as fuck, and that phone call had rattled her more than she was letting on.
“Oh, you’re the Bash,” Sondra said with a knowing smile that had Hattie shooting her a warning look.
“Sondra,” Hattie said through gritted teeth.
“What?” Sondra shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying—”
“Don’t,” Hattie cut her off, her cheeks flushing pink.
I filed that away for later. Whatever Sondra had been about to say, I wanted to know what it was.
“Hattie has an overzealous fan,” Sondra explained, gesturing to the phone in Hattie’s pocket. “Some creep who’s been calling and leaving notes.”
My blood turned to ice. “Notes?”
“The police are handling it,” Hattie said quickly, like she could see the storm building in my eyes.
Notes. Calls. Some sick fuck was stalking my girl and—
Not my girl, I reminded myself, but that didn’t stop the possessive rage from clawing at my chest.
“What kind of notes?” I pressed, stepping closer to her.
“It’s nothing,” she said, waving me off.
“Holy shit, is that a raccoon?” Sondra interrupted, pointing across the room where Tacoma’s kids were chasing something furry around the pool table.
Hattie’s head whipped around. “What the heck? It is.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle despite my concern. “That’s Panda. Foxy’s pet raccoon.”
“A pet raccoon?” Sondra’s eyes lit up. “I want one.”
“Oh, no.” Hattie shook her head. “There’s no way a raccoon is getting on my tour bus. Our luck, it’ll shit all over the place.”
Sondra’s face fell. “But—”
Before she could finish her argument for why she needed a raccoon, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glanced down at the screen and saw Sosha’s name flashing.
Fuck.
“I gotta take this,” I said, stepping a few feet away. “Sosha? Everything okay, darlin’?”
“Bash,” her voice came through shaky and terrified. “He’s here. Dale’s here, and he’s banging on my door. I think—I think he has a gun.”
My blood turned molten. “Go in your bedroom and lock the door. Then get in the closet. Don’t come out for anyone but me. Do you understand? I’m on my way.”
“Hurry,” she whispered.
“I’m coming.”
Disconnecting the call, I turned back to Hattie, who was watching me with concerned eyes.
I didn’t want to leave her. Not when we’d barely had two minutes to talk.
“I gotta go,” I said, already backing toward the door.
“Everything okay?” she asked, and for just a second I heard genuine worry in her voice. Like she still cared what happened to me.
“One of the girls that works for me is in trouble.” I ran a hand through my hair, torn between staying here with her and keeping my word to Sosha. “We need to talk, Hattie. About—”
Instantly the shutters came slamming down. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, icing me out. “Go. Do what you need to do.”
“Hattie—”
“I’m going home anyway. It’s late.”
Without sparing me another glance, she turned away from me, effectively dismissing me.
Goddamn it.
“GATOR! BAX!” I hollered across the room. Both men looked up from their conversations. “Time to ride!”
No questions asked, they set down their beers and headed for the exit.
When we pulled up to the run-down trailer park, I could hear Dale’s drunken bellowing the second I cut the engine.
“SOSHA! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE, YOU STUPID CUNT!”
The fucking psycho was standing outside her door, waving a pistol around like some kind of cowboy. He was so goddamn drunk, he hadn’t even noticed we pulled up.
“HEY, ASSHOLE!” I swung my leg over the seat.
Dale spun around, his bloodshot eyes trying to focus on me. The gun in his hand wavered as he pointed it in my general direction.
“I already told you. You can’t keep her from me,” he slurred. “That’s my woman in there.”
This was where I fucked up.
See, if I hadn't been so in my own head about seeing Hattie again, I would have thought twice before I opened my mouth. However, that wasn’t the case. So, when I shouted across the lawn, “She deserves better than you, motherfucker!” the asshole pointed his gun at me and pulled the trigger.
My eyes dropped to my shoulder as white hot pain exploded across it. “What the fuck?” I bellowed, gritting my teeth.
That motherfucker just shot me. It was more of graze along the side of my bicep, but that wasn’t the point. He fucking shot me. And judging by the surprised look on his face, he was thinking the same goddamn thing.
“You motherfucker!” Taking off across the lawn, I charged him like a bull seeing red, tackling him to the ground. His gun went flying as we hit the dirt, and I got my hands on his throat.
“You stupid motherfucker,” I snarled, pulling back my fist and connecting with his nose. Blood spurted like a geyser as he dropped like a sack of shit.
“Call the sheriff, Gator,” I said, climbing to my feet and pressing a hand to my bleeding shoulder. “Him showing up here with a gun needs to go on record.”
What I really wanted to do was kill the motherfucker, but there were already too many nosy neighbors peeking out their windows.
Not a goddamn one of them came to help Sosha while the cocksucker was on her porch.
But now, everyone was stepping outside to chit chat like they were the best of friends.
I guess it’s true what they say. Everyone in the neighborhood is best friends when the cops show up.
“What about your shoulder?” Gator asked, pulling out his phone.
I looked down at the blood seeping between my fingers. It hurt like a bitch, but I’d live. “I’ll swing by Pete’s and have him stitch me up.”
Twenty minutes later, after giving our statements to the deputies and watching them haul Dale’s semiconscious ass to jail, I was back on my bike heading toward the farm.
Blood was still trickling down my arm, but all I could think about was getting back to Hattie.