Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SAMMIE
Ace grabs the prospect by the throat and squeezes. “What the fuck is goin’ on out here?” he snarls. “What did she give you?”
“I—I,” the kid chokes.
“Ace, please.” I reach for him with a shaky hand, but he pushes me off.
Ace’s glare shifts between me and the prospect. “You’re meeting up with a Dog.”
“No, I mean . . .”
“Quit lying, bitch,” Ace sneers. “Imagine my surprise when I’m checking the security cameras, and I see you talking to this fucker.”
My eyes dart above me. Of course, the new security system with cameras spaced every few feet.
I step closer. “You don’t understand.”
“Nah, bitch, I understand perfectly.”
“It’s not what it looks like.” The words even sound stupid to me.
“It’s exactly what it looks like. Exactly what I told Deuce. You’re nothing but a fuckin’ traitor for the Dogs.”
“No, no, that’s not true.”
"You’ve been selling us out all along, huh?”
Ace releases his chokehold and spins the kid around with his arm halfway up his back. Then he grabs my biceps and steers us both into the back door with unbelievable ease.
He stops at the door of their new meeting room, releases my arm, slips a keycard into the lock, and the door springs open. Without a word, he pushes us both inside. I stumble, only catching my balance on the back of one of the chairs.
The metal door slams shut behind Ace, and silence fills the room. The prospect’s eyes are wide and twitching while mine slide shut with sheer exhaustion. I pull out one of the chairs and sit for fear if I don’t, I’ll be face-planting on the new plank flooring.
After what seems like an eternity, the lock clicks, the door swings open, and when Ace, Fist, and then Deuce enter, the room seems to shrink. The air shifts, and my chest constricts like every breath is an effort.
Over the last month, I’ve seen these men working, bickering, teasing and razzing each other.
I know deep down they’re outlaws who broke the law, but all that didn’t prepare me for the three sets of hard, dark eyes burning into me.
Jaws set, menacing scowls, ready to throw down anyone who interferes with the Kings.
The most frightening is Deuce. His narrowed eyes sear into me like we we’re deadly enemies. Like we haven’t brought each other to multiple orgasms less than twenty-four hours ago. Like he’d have absolutely no trouble putting a gun against my temple and pulling the trigger.
Ace steps forward, spins the prospect toward the wall like he’s a rag doll, then frisks him until he comes up with the flash drive. He holds it close to the kid’s face. “Is this what she gave you?’
“Yesss,” he stutters, his head bobbing up and down.
Ace yanks him around and throws him to Fist. “Take him down to the basement. I’ll deal with him later.”
The kid digs in his heels like he knows what awaits him, but he’s no match for Fist’s bulk.
When the door slams behind them, I’m alone with Deuce and Ace. I try to stand, and Ace points his finger. “Don’t move.”
Does he think I have a weapon? Does he really think I could or would harm either one of them?
“Why don’t you tell Deuce what you were doin’ out in the alley with a Dog prospect, and what’s so important about this?” Ace holds up the flash drive.
“I tried to tell you,” I say, then turn to Deuce. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Ace curls his lip, picks a remote off the table, aims it at the monitor, and a black-and-white picture appears of me and the Dog prospect in the alley. Ace hits the remote again, and the picture freezes. Then he blows it up to clearly show me giving the kid the flash drive.
“Looks pretty clear to me.” Ace and Deuce exchange a look, but Deuce remains deadly silent.
“You have to believe me—I was doing it for you and the Kings.”
“Do you fuckin’ believe this bullshit?” Ace barks out a harsh laugh. “Lady, you got a pair of brass balls.”
No, actually, I’m scared shitless right now.
“She’s been working with them all along.” Ace faces Deuce, then turns to me. “Probably the same prospect who was here trashing the place last week while you were upstairs in the sack fuckin’ him.”
Deuce’s eyes flicker for a second, but he stays silent.
“Perfect diversion, right, sweetheart? Bitches like you have been doin’ the same thing for years.”
“Please just listen to me,” I plead.
Ace looks to Deuce, who tips his chin in my direction.
“Ace is right. I gave the prospect the flash drive but—”
Ace throws up his hands. “She’s a fuckin’ spy for the Dogs.”
“No, it’s not like that.”
Ace throws his arms wide. “Probably has been the whole time.”
“Viper’s been texting me, threatening to—”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” Ace growls.
I stare at Deuce, willing him to step in. To tell Ace he’s wrong, and let me explain.
“Instead of handing it over to us, you sell us out and give it to that fuckin’ Dog.”
“I had no choice.” I swallow back tears of frustration.
“Nah, babe, you had a choice. You just chose wrong.” Ace huffs out a breath. “This was a setup from the beginning. Playing the victim, needing protection.”
“Viper manipulates people.”
“Seems like you’ve been doin’ the same thing. Only you’ve been spreading your legs to get what you want.”
I mash my lips together, knowing there’s nothing I can say or do to change their minds. I’ve been marked as a traitor, and there’s nothing worse in the MC world.
I make eye contact one more time with Deuce, but he looks right through me like I don’t exist. No anger, no disappointment, just nothing.
There’s a knock on the door, and Ace lets Fist inside, then closes the door.
“Fuckin’ kid pissed himself.” Fist laughs.
“Thank fuck we put the drain in. Let him sweat it out a little longer, then we’ll go down there and show him what happens when you fuck with the Kings.” Ace cups Fist’s shoulder. “I need a drink first.”
I hope if the prospect makes it out alive that he evaluates his life choices, ‘cause being an outlaw is not for the weak.
Fist heads to the door, and Ace faces Deuce, jerking his thumb in my direction. “I’ll be at the bar. Let me know what you want me to do with her.”
Ace’s casual tone belies his deadly threat.
My heart slams hard against my ribs, and for the first time, I fear for my life, but I don’t try to defend myself.
I don’t tell him my having sex with Deuce had nothing to do with any diversion.
I don’t bother because the dead, cold look in Deuce’s eyes tells me all I need to know.
Fist and Ace leave, and it’s just Deuce and me.
He finally meets my eyes. Hard. Closed-off. Not the man who broke down doors for me, held me in his arms, and made me feel whole for the first time since my mother died.
This is the man who survived prison, stared down thugs and outlaws bigger and badder than him.
I long to reach for him and make him remember, but this isn’t the same man.
I try one more time. “No matter what choice I made, someone would’ve gotten hurt.”
Deuce stares at me for a long minute, then rasps, “This isn’t about what you did. It’s about what you didn’t do.”
He turns away without another word and leaves the room. I hear the door latch click and lock, and all I feel is relief. Not fear for my future, or what might happen to me, just an overwhelming relief that the lies and worrying are over.
I can’t save the prospect. He made his choice when he signed on with the Dogs. I can’t save myself either, and whatever Deuce felt for me is gone. If he’d ever felt anything at all.
He made his feelings plain in the hall with Ace this morning. Wow, this morning. How my life fell to shit in just twelve short hours. Shouldn’t be a surprise—my life has fallen to shit almost since the day I was born.
It’s not self-pity, more like self-awareness and finally accepting what life has in store for me. I’m done trying to do better, be better ‘cause, in the end, it’s all a pile of shit that psychiatrists, therapists and even my romance novels try to sell desperate people with nowhere to turn.
I slump over in the chair, cross my arms on the plywood table, and lower my head. I close my eyes and force myself to unwind until the thumping music, laughter and voices from the bar mesh together as one, drifting me to another place.