Chapter 13 - Lucy
Lucy
Iwas standing by the coffee machine in the corner of the tiny kitchen, trying to wash the taste of whiskey out of my mouth, when Maria appeared beside me. She didn’t speak right away, just poured her own cup and took a slow sip.
“You holding up?” she asked finally.
I shrugged. “Better than some.”
Her gaze followed the line of the bar to where Gabby was laughing with a couple of club girls, tossing her hair and glancing towards Jay every few seconds like she was keeping score.
Maria leaned in just enough for only me to hear. “Watch that one.”
I frowned. “Gabby?”
Maria’s mouth curved, though not quite a smile. “You shook her. Takes a lot to do that.”
My chest tightened. “I didn’t do anything.”
Maria’s eyes slid back to me, steady and knowing. “You kissed him, mija. In here, that’s not nothing.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “That wasn’t—” I stopped myself, jaw locking. “It just happened.”
She sipped her coffee. “Things don’t just happen with men like him. Not when the whole room’s watching.”
I gripped the edge of the counter, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. “You think I asked for it? You think I wanted a target painted on my back?”
Maria shook her head. “No. I think you’ve both been carrying that longing for a long time. I saw it in him back then, before you left, and I see it now. Just be careful. History draws eyes and enemies.”
I couldn’t answer. My throat was too tight, my pulse too loud.
Maria reached over and squeezed my hand once, firm and warm, before walking away and leaving me with the bitter taste of whiskey, coffee, and the truth I didn’t want to face.
But Maria’s words clung to me like smoke.
I’d just left the kitchen when Gabby appeared out of nowhere, her perfume hitting me before her words did.
“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Gabby’s smile was all sugar, but her eyes were daggers.
I rolled mine and kept walking, but she slid in front of me, heels clicking against the floor.
“You really think you’re special?” Her tone was soft, almost pitying. “Jay’s good at making a girl feel that way. He’s good at a lot of things.” Her tongue flicked against her teeth, her eyes glittering. “Did you like listening to us just now? He’s always rougher after a kiss. It winds him up.”
Heat flared in my cheeks, part fury, part shame, but I forced my smirk. “Please. If you were half as good in his bed as you are at running your mouth, maybe he wouldn’t look so bored every time you open your legs.”
For a heartbeat, her mask slipped, eyes flashing, before she leaned in closer. “Funny thing about men like Jay,” she murmured, “they’ll tell you what you want to hear but never the whole story.”
My chest tightened. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“Oh, but I know about him.” Her lips brushed my ear, her words like poison. “You think he wanted your brother back in? Think again. When Caleb begged for a vote, Reaper was the first one to say no. Said he’d be dead weight, a liability.”
My stomach dropped.
Gabby pulled back, her smile cruel and triumphant. “So, go ahead, trust him. Just don’t cry when you find out he buried your brother long before they buried the coffin.”
Then she straightened, smoothed her hair, and walked back towards the bar like she hadn’t just shoved a blade between my ribs and twisted it.
I stood frozen, her words rolling through me, colliding with the kiss still burning on my lips. Why kiss me if he was going to fuck her? The answer was obvious and ugly, because it shut me up. Because I meant nothing to him. Just like when I was leaving town and he let me walk without a fight.
The burn in my chest wasn’t jealousy—it was humiliation.
But I couldn’t leave. Not then. Staying there was still my best shot at finding the truth about Caleb, even if it meant swallowing every bitter word Gabby had shoved down my throat.
Before I had the chance to confront Jay, he’d stormed out.
He had ridden out with a few of his brothers an hour ago, engines roaring like thunder, leaving me in enemy territory with nothing but my nerves for company.
I’d been pacing the clubhouse for what felt like forever.
Every laugh and scrape of a chair set my teeth on edge.
When the doors finally slammed open, I spun around.
They spilled in, loud and restless, leather scuffed.
Jay was in the middle of them, blood streaked down his cheek, his knuckles split open.
His kutte hung off one shoulder, the shirt underneath torn and damp.
He didn’t even look at me, just kept walking straight down the hallway.
Something in my chest pulled tight and a shot of worry ran through me. Before I could stop myself, I followed, past the bikers in their rooms, past the medical room, and up the stairs.
His door wasn’t locked, and I didn’t knock. I shoved it open and stepped inside.
He stood with his back to me, stripped down to nothing but dark jeans hanging low on his hips.
His broad shoulders were cut with scars, muscles pulled taut as he braced one hand against the dresser, breathing hard like every inhale hurt.
I couldn’t stop my eyes from taking in every inch of him, my heart thumping and my stomach doing flipflops.
I opened my mouth, but the words died, because when he turned enough for the light to catch him, I saw it.
Ink, black and permanent, carved over the left side of his chest. One word.... Caleb.
No reaper skull. No club patch. Just my brother’s name, written over his heart.
My throat closed, and my eyes pricked with tears. The room tilted. “Yo...” My voice cracked. “You carry him with you.” He really did love Caleb as much as I did.
Jay froze. His eyes found mine, but for once, he didn’t cover up.
Didn’t smirk. Didn’t deflect. His chest steadily rose and fell, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from lingering on the ink, on the heartbeat under it.
His pupils blew wide, catching me staring.
His mouth parted, like he was about to speak but thought better of it.
“Always,” he said, his voice rough enough to scrape against my ribs.
The air between us shifted. Grief and rage pressed down until I could barely breathe. Because in that moment, I knew that beneath the President, beneath the reaper, there was still Jay. And Caleb was still alive, beating under his skin.
I should’ve walked out and pretended I hadn’t seen it. Pretended his chest wasn’t carved with my brother’s name. But I didn’t. Instead, I crossed the room, grabbed the first aid kit off the shelf, and dropped it hard on the dresser beside him.
“Sit,” I ordered, sharper than I meant to.
Jay’s mouth twitched. “You patching me up, princess? Didn’t think you’d care if I bled out.”
“I don’t,” I snapped, pulling out a roll of gauze. “But if you keel over from blood loss, I lose the only person who might actually find out what happened to Caleb. So, do me a favour and shut up.”
He stared at me for a beat, like he was weighing whether to throw me out, then lowered himself into the chair by the bed with a grunt. I crouched in front of him, pressing a cloth to the cut along his ribs. He hissed through his teeth, muscles tightening under my hand.
“Stop being a baby,” I muttered.
His laugh was humourless. “You’ve got no idea what kind of pain I’ve learned to ignore.”
I risked a glance up at him. Big mistake.
His eyes were on me, storm-dark, pupils blown wide.
His gaze pinned me in place, and my stomach flipped.
I looked away fast, focusing on the blood staining the cloth instead of the man it was spilling out of.
I couldn’t fall for him, not again, not when I didn’t mean anything to him.
We worked in silence after that, my hands steady, his jaw clenched.
When I tied off the bandage, I stood and dropped the scissors back into the kit. “There. You’ll live, unfortunately.”
Jay smirked then. His lips parted, slow, deliberate. “You always did have a sharp tongue, Lucy.”
“Yeah,” I said, turning for the door before I did something stupid, “and I’m not afraid to use it.”
I shut his door behind me and headed straight downstairs for the bathroom.
My hands were shaking, blood on my knuckles from his wounds, and I needed a minute.
I washed my hands and splashed water on my cheeks to try to cool them off.
I pushed the bathroom door open and wiped water from my face, trying to steady my breathing before anyone noticed.
The hallway was dim, the low thrum of voices and music from the main room pulsing like a heartbeat.
Riot was leaning against the wall across from me, arms folded, shades pushed up into his hair, like he’d been waiting.
I froze. “What?”
He didn’t move, just watched me a moment with an unreadable stare. Then, quiet enough so only I could hear, he said, “You shook him up there.”
My stomach dropped. “I only patched him up.”
Riot’s mouth curved almost into a smile but not quite. “I’ve known him a long time. Seen him bleed more times than I can count. He doesn’t let anyone close when he’s raw. Not the brothers. Not me. But you? He let you in.”
Heat crawled up the back of my neck. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
Riot tilted his head. “It means everything. Back then, when you left, he rode all night. Thought he was hiding it, but I saw. You hurt him deeper than he ever let on.”
I couldn’t breathe. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because if you’re here to stay, you need to understand what you’re walking back into. He never stopped carrying it. And if you’re not here to stay”—he pushed off the wall and straightened to his full height—“don’t drag him through hell again.”
I swallowed hard, throat tight, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Yeah? Yet he’s still fucking Gabby.”
Riot didn’t flinch, just studied me with a flat expression.
“We all do things we don’t like to keep breathing in this life,” he said. “He’s the President. He can’t show weakness. Not in front of the brothers, and not in front of her. Don’t mistake survival for choice.”
Riot didn’t wait for an answer, he slid his shades back on and walked past, leaving me alone in the hall with the truth thrumming in my chest louder than the music thumping from the main room.
I strode back into the bar, chin high and shoulders squared, but my steps faltered when I saw him.
Jay was already out there, clean shirt pulled on, Gabby perched on his lap like a trophy.
She laughed too loud, tossing her hair, nails dragging over his chest like she owned him.
His hands rested on her waist, but the touch looked staged, his jaw too tight, his eyes colder than the man I’d just seen bleeding in that room.
I bristled and told myself it didn’t matter, that it wasn’t my business, but my chest ached all the same. The sooner I found my answers, the sooner I could get out of here and away from him and the confusing thoughts and feelings warring inside me.
A shadow fell across me, and I glanced up to find a tall brother standing over me, patch stitched with the name ‘Link.’
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said with an easy grin, holding out his hand. “Let me buy you a real drink. You look like you could use one.”
For some stupid reason, relief bloomed in my chest. Finally, someone who wasn’t sizing me up like a problem or a threat. Someone who saw me.
“Thanks,” I murmured, sliding my hand into his.
We didn’t make it three steps before Jay’s hand shot out, clamping around Link’s wrist like a vice. His voice was a growl. “She’s not yours to touch.”
I spun on him, fury sparking hot. “She’s sure as hell not yours either.”
Link only laughed, shaking his wrist free. “Relax, Pres. I’m only being friendly.”
Before Jay could say more, Link guided me towards the bar, settling on the stool beside me. He waved the prospect over, ordering two whiskeys.
“It’s nothing fancy,” he said, sliding one towards me, “but it’ll take the edge off. Trust me.”
I picked up the glass, but my eyes weren’t on the drink.
They weren’t even on Link. They kept pulling back, again and again, to where Jay sat like a king on his throne, Gabby draped across his lap.
She leaned close, pressing her mouth to his, but even then, his eyes slid past her, found mine, and held.
My throat burned hotter than the whiskey I threw back in one swallow.
“Easy there, princess.” Link chuckled, nudging my glass with his. “You’ll be on the floor before long.”
“Better on the floor than in someone’s lap,” I muttered.
When I glanced back, Jay’s jaw was tight, his knuckles white against Gabby’s hip, like he’d forgotten she was even there. His gaze was locked on me, unrelenting.
I forced a smile for Link, turning to him like he was my lifeline. “Another?”
He grinned, clearly thinking he was winning.
Maybe he was, for a moment. Because I wanted to want the man beside me.
He had floppy dark hair that was a little on the long side and warm chocolate eyes.
He appeared reckless, rough around the edges, dangerous in all the ways a biker should be.
The kind of man who’d be easy to fall into if I let myself.
But my pulse betrayed me, beating wildly for the man across the room. The man I swore I loathed, and God help me, I hated that part of me didn’t want to look away.
Link disappeared towards the bathroom, and I exhaled, rolling the empty glass between my palms. The room blurred for a moment, with music, laughter, smoke, and the sound of pool balls smacking together all pressing in too close.
I held up my hand and requested a glass of water.
The prospect chuckled and shook his head as he provided me with a tall glass.
That’s when Riot slid into Link’s seat like he’d been waiting for the opening. No smile, no easy charm. “You really think running to Link’s gonna make it easier?” His voice was quiet, but it sliced clean through the noise.
My head snapped towards him, anger surging through me. “Excuse me?”
Riot leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bar. “I’ve watched you circle each other since you set foot back in here. Doesn’t matter how loud Gabby laughs or how hard you try to pretend with Link, everyone with eyes can see where the fuse runs.”
Heat climbed my throat. “You don’t know me.”
“Don’t need to,” he said, gaze steady. “I know him, and I know what you do to him.”
I looked away, but his voice followed.
“You think you’re the only one who feels it? That kiss wasn’t smoke. That was fire breaking loose in front of the whole damn club. You can play with it, deny it, drink ‘til you forget it, but it’s already lit. And once it burns, it doesn’t go out easy.”
Riot pushed back from the bar then, leaving the second whiskey untouched. “Figure out whether you’re gonna feed it or put it out, little Kane, before it burns you both.”
Then, he was gone, his chair still warm, his words heavier than the whiskey in my veins.