Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
WRATH
The look of shock on her face is absolutely fucking priceless. She is also sexy as fuck as she stares up at me, from my fucking bed, with that expression of shock on her face. Goddammit. This woman is hot as hell. Petite, curvy, sexy in every way a woman can be.
“I can make it home,” she murmurs.
I can tell she can’t. They are both dead on their feet, and I’m not going to let either of them drive away from here and kill themselves or someone else. I might do a bunch of shady and illegal shit, but that crosses a line with me, and with the entire club.
“You can’t. I got a shower; you know where it is. Rinse off the day, crawl into my bed, and sleep. When you wake up, we’ll go over all the shit you saw tonight.”
“I thought you just wanted pictures,” she says, but her words are slurring. She’s fucking exhausted.
You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
She’s so fucking cute, I can’t even believe that she’s here in my bed.
That control I had a loose grip on, it’s slipping through my fingers like trying to keep water in my grasp.
It doesn’t fucking work, and I’m seconds away from saying fuck it and taking her.
“Pictures and a conversation,” I state, “but only after you’ve had some sleep. Nobody will bother you in here. They wouldn’t dare even try to open the door.”
She pushes up on her hand, a yawn escaping her lips as she does, then she blinks a few times. I want to reach down and slide my hand along her jaw. I want to lower my head and touch my mouth to hers.
Fuck, I need to leave.
“I’ll be in the bar if you need me. But nobody will bother you.”
Without another word, I turn around and walk out of the bedroom and straight for the bar. I need a fucking drink if I’m going to be able to even think with her in my bed.
The prospect hands me a bottle of tequila immediately, and I frown, because this has become more of a habit than it used to be, and I know it’s because of Elodie. She’s got me goddamn tangled up in knots.
“You are fucked, my man,” a voice says next to me.
I don’t have to look over to see who that voice belongs to. I’ve heard it my whole life. I know exactly who is standing next to me. So, I don’t respond to him, mainly because it isn’t something I feel the need to respond to.
“It’s okay. We all gotta fall sometime, I guess,” he continues.
My gaze slides over to him, and I watch him for a moment. He stares straight ahead, a shot glass in his hand. Sensing my focus on him, he slowly turns to face me, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.
“That girl’s hot as fuck. I’d tap that if I thought you would let me,” Loot states.
“No, you wouldn’t,” I say on a snort.
He shrugs. “I would. She’s hot, and she cleans. I don’t see how you could do any better. Unless she cooked, too, then I’m sorry, but I’ll have to fight you for her.”
I flip him the bird before bringing my bottle of tequila to my lips and taking a swig. Loot chuckles and thankfully walks away. He won’t do shit; he knows that just as much as I do.
He enjoys the ease of the clubwhores, much like the rest of us.
Some of the guys have seen girls in town off and on, but Loot never has.
Being in an actual relationship with someone who expects shit sounds like a hassle, and it’s not any kind of headache I’ve ever wanted.
I know Loot feels the same way because we’ve had those conversations before.
So I know he’s full of shit.
I’m not sure why he thinks I would change who I am at almost fifty years old when he’s around the same goddamn age, and I doubt he’ll be changing anything about himself anytime soon.
I’m not sure how long I stand at the bar drinking, but when I hear someone whistle, I turn my head and see Alex standing across the room, his gaze on me. He looks fucking beat to shit and not quite awake.
Pushing off the bar, I start to make my way toward him, swaying with each step I take.
Maybe I’m the one who needs a fucking nap.
He watches me, and I don’t know why, but I really expect him to glare at me or give me some kind of dirty look.
He probably would if he knew all the shit I want to do to and with his cousin.
“I know we’re supposed to be asleep, and I’m so fucking tired right now, I feel like a zombie, but I’m overtired. I thought a couple shots might help. You good with me getting some booze?” he asks.
I can’t believe he’s actually asking me this. If the tables were turned, I’d probably just walk up to the bar, act as if I own it, and take a shot. Alex is much more polite than I am, likely raised better, too.
“Alex,” I call out, “you, my friend, can have whatever you want.”
His brows rise, and he snorts before shaking his head a couple of times, then clears his throat, his gaze moving around the room before meeting mine again. “I don’t think there’s anything I want here other than some booze,” he mutters.
Instead of saying anything else, he moves past me a few steps, then he stops and turns his head, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Whatever the fuck happens, I don’t want anything to touch Elodie. She’s the best person I know, and she’s been through enough shit.”
I’m far too drunk to touch this conversation or ask any deeper questions. I dip my chin in a single nod. His gaze searches mine, and then he rights himself and walks straight for the bar. I watch him move through the bar area, but what I notice is that he doesn’t look at any of the clubwhores.
Not a single one.
Interesting.
I figured he’d at least look since they’re all in various states of undress.
As quickly as the thought enters my mind, it flees, and I continue moving, heading straight for my fucking bedroom. But when I reach the door, I realize I can’t go inside. Not like this. Instead, I press my back against the wall and slowly sink to the floor. I need to sober up.