Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
FREAK
Ihadn’t realised Trixie could be so fierce.
In other circumstances, it would have been a turn-on.
Combined with the relief that my letting Toni go had had nothing to do with her abduction was the concern that if the message didn’t get across in time, I’d have sentenced a woman to something she didn’t deserve.
Misguided as Toni was, she seemed genuinely to be getting on with her life and fulfilling the conditions I’d given her for her freedom.
Spying Ace playing pool, I veer over just long enough to ask him to go back and keep Trixie company.
Then I enter Bullseye’s office. “You spoken to Tyrant?”
His glare makes me take a step back. “Yeah, I fuckin’ did. Had to admit I had a pussy enforcer who didn’t know his shit. Didn’t reflect well on me that I first ordered a hit, then pulled it off at the last minute.”
“You want me to speak to him?”
“Fuck yeah.”
It’s only a second before my phone pings. Glancing down, I notice he’s sent me the number. I hoped he’d leave me alone to eat humble pie, but he just sits there, arms crossed and glaring.
I hit Tyrant’s contact. The phone rings a couple of times.
“What do you want, asshole?”
“Tyrant?” At his grunt, I continue, “It’s Freak. Enforcer for the Arizona Kings.”
“Yeah, yeah. You got your prez to call in a favour, to pick up a woman you wanted dead, only to rescind the order when we’d already collected her. Now you want her to live?”
“It’s complicated.” Filling my lungs with much-needed oxygen, I explain the position and give him the abridged version of her history. I finish by admitting there had been strong indications she’d betrayed us, but that had turned out to be wrong.
“So what do you want me to do with her? She sounds like she’s still a loose end. She kidnapped your fuckin’ son? And you want her breathing?”
“It’s complicated,” I repeat. When Tyrant snorts, I continue, “The original idea was when we knew where she landed, to ask the local Kings to keep eyes on her. How does that sit with you, Tyrant?”
There’s silence on the line, then a barked laugh. “Kind of think we’ve overplayed that hand. She’s already shitting herself. We weren’t exactly gentle with her.”
Fuck, fuck, and fuck. If she leaves their clubhouse, she’s going to run. And next time, having learned her lesson, she won’t make contact. If she’s smart, she’ll ditch the phone Pippa gave her. She’ll disappear off the map, and this time with a genuine reason to want to do the Kings harm.
Tyrant speaks again. “She’s a good looker. Might appeal to my men.”
I snort. “She’s got good reason not to trust an MC. I wasn’t exactly kind to her after she stole my son. I don’t see how anyone could persuade her we’re the good guys.”
“Ain’t my problem if she runs. That’s on you.”
He’s not lying. I draw in a deep breath and let out a sigh.
“Look, Freak, I’ll do my best. Put it to her that this was a case of mistaken identity. Try to soften her up. No promises.” He pauses. “Could get my ol’ lady to talk to her.”
“It’s not your problem, it’s mine.”
“That it is.”
He ends the call.
Bullseye’s still got his eyes on me. “You’re the fuckin’ enforcer, Freak. You gonna keep making mistakes?”
“I’m a fuckup,” I admit.
He shakes his head. “Seems like taking an ol’ lady affects the fuckin’ brain.
First Saint, then Short, now you. Fuckin’ hope it’s the last of it in the club.
” He chuckles. “Tell you this, there’s not one woman alive that I’m gonna lose my head over.
Now, get out of here, Freak. Oh.” His voice stops me before I get to the door.
“That shit you wanted organised? Dum is setting off about now. And you might want to tell that ol’ lady of yours, she’s well thought of, and they were happy to oblige. ”
Fuck yeah.
I get out of there. At last, I have good news for Trixie. She’s bound to appreciate what I’ve arranged. She’s suffered enough.
“Freak.”
Glancing up, I see it’s Saint who’s called to me. He’s perched on a barstool, waving me over. I go to join him. He tilts his head toward the drink sitting in front of him, and I accept the unspoken invitation.
“Double Jack.” I rap my hand on the bar, getting Dum/Dee’s attention, idly noticing his shirt tonight reads, It’s a Gravedigger thing, you wouldn’t understand. I don’t think I want to be illuminated.
“Tyrant hand you your ass?” the VP asks with a glint in his eyes.
Of course, he’ll know. Bullseye shares everything with his VP.
“If it’s any consolation, I was on the same page, wouldn’t have done a damn thing different.
And I think you should just let it go now.
If nothing else, she’ll have had a taste of how far the King’s reach is.
I reckon we’ve just purchased an extended warranty that she’ll think twice about ever crossing us. ”
I down half my shot in one go, then raise my chin.
He nods as though the subject is over and done with. “How’s Trixie?”
“Sore,” I respond. “But she’ll live.” I breathe out, some of my tension leaving me with my words as I finally admit it to myself. “No one’s ever going to hurt her again,” I vow.
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You can count on that, Brother.” He waves his hand behind him. “She’s got the whole club to protect her.”
“She deserves to live a normal life. She’s never had the chance before,” I tell him, while inside I want to keep her close and wrap her in cotton wool.
As if he reads my mind, he nods. “Bro, Pippa can look after herself, but it still worries me that she’s got a past that could reappear at any time. At least now Alongi’s gone, Trixie’s got no reason to hide anymore.”
“How do you cope with the worry?” I’m genuinely curious.
He chuckles. “You don’t. You just deal. Anyway, you can shelve that for now. Trix will stay on the compound until she heals. When she comes right, we can make sure she always has a prospect on her if that sets your mind at ease.”
“That may happen sooner rather than later,” I grumble. “She wants to go home.” I shake my head. “She doesn’t like being around the club anymore. I think it’s a reminder of…” My words trail off, though in my head I finish the sentence… Of her being a whore.
Saint understands without me having to put it into words.
He sweeps his long hair over his shoulder, then grimaces.
“I think we may have made things awkward without meaning to.” It’s what Stalker had already told me, but it lands differently from the VP.
He jerks his head backward. Looking into the mirror, I see Words, Winchester, Paint, and Woody playing doubles at pool.
Stalker, Piston, and Tempest are at a table with cards spread out in front of them.
Rattler’s relaxing back on a couch with Star on her knees, her head bobbing up and down over his lap.
“They all respect you, Brother, and respect her as your woman. But give them some slack. It’s hard to adjust. They used to be able to flirt with her and touch her—”
“They better fuckin’ keep their hands to themselves,” I growl.
“They will,” he states firmly, then laughs, “You think they don’t know what you’d do if they don’t?” He shakes his head. “That’s half the problem. They don’t know where they stand. And that meant, before you found the house and moved out, that they weren’t even daring to talk to her.”
My brows furrow as the wheels turn in my head. “I hate that she doesn’t have a place here anymore.”
“Oh, she does. She’s got to find it. And you’ve got to let it all work out, Freak. No fuckin’ threatening to rip a brother’s head off if he dares to talk to your ol’ lady.”
Saint was known for being cold and unfeeling, but after Pippa came along, he became a more understanding person, completed when his daughter was born. Before I’d have believed he’d be the last one to understand emotions or to give advice.
So I listen with my jaw dropping as he sagely suggests, “Don’t let her rush back to the house, Bro.
Keep her here for now. But don’t let her hide upstairs.
Bring her down. Encourage her to mingle, and don’t fuckin’ piss on her.
Remember, we’re all her friends. She was one of ours, Bro, before she became yours. ”
As if he’s summoned up an example by magic, Words approaches along with Winchester. They both demand beers, swear about the game they just lost, then Win turns to me. “How’s your ol’ lady? She didn’t deserve any of what happened to her. Glad we managed to put that asshole in the ground.”
“Too fuckin’ right,” Words agrees.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to take Saint’s advice. “Trix is made of fuckin’ iron. She won’t let a few injuries get her down. She…” I swallow, but I’m determined to finish now I’ve started this. “She’s up in my room with Ace, if you want to go see for yourself.”
Saint nods approvingly as Win claps me on my shoulder. “Well, alrighty then. You coming, Words?” He pauses, then asks, “Hey, should we take some flowers or something?”
“Where the fuck would we get flowers this time of night?” Words rolls his eyes. Then he clicks his fingers. “But Star attempted to make cookies today. They’re not like Trix’s, but the sentiment will be there.”
“Cookies it is.”
They disappear into the kitchen and reappear in moments carrying a plate. I wrinkle my nose as I get a look at them. Definitely not like my old lady’s.
Saint chuckles. “You’re not going to rush after them?”
I grin. “No, hate to say it, VP, but you were right. I’m half the problem. I can’t help expecting them all to want to jump her bones.”
“Because her pussy’s addictive?”
I tense, flexing my hands.
“Whoa, Bro.” He holds up his hands defensively. “I wasn’t saying that’s how I remember it. When I was in the market, she was just a convenient hole. But when love comes into it, sex becomes something more. I reckon Trixie’s giving you parts of her that the rest of us have never seen.”