Chapter Sixteen #2
I grin, digging into the bag until I pull out a pair of jeans and a cropped tee. I press them into her hands. “Nice try, darlin’, but I ain’t stupid. I’m not giving you a chance to walk out on me before I’ve even had a chance to sort this out.”
She glares, eyes flashing. “Okay, then let’s sort it now.”
I laugh, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the forehead. “Not now. We’ve gotta go.”
She growls in frustration and slams the bathroom door shut, the sound echoing off the walls. I let out a breath, dragging a hand through my hair. Christ, she’s exhausting and addictive.
Relief slips through me when she reappears a few minutes later, dressed, her hair pulled back, and some of the anger gone from her face. She doesn’t look happy, but at least she looks like she’s coming with me.
“Better,” I mutter, tugging my boots on properly and grabbing my keys. “Now, let’s move before Axel starts breathing down my neck.”
She rolls her eyes but follows, her arms crossed tight, every step heavy with defiance.
The neon glow of Chaos & Angels burns against the late morning haze as I pull the bike into the carpark.
The bass from inside rattles the pavement, even with the doors shut.
Remi slips off the bike behind me, tugging her jacket tight around her like armour.
She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel her eyes on me, heavy and questioning.
“Let’s go,” I tell her, pocketing the keys and holding out a hand, which she doesn’t take. I sigh, dropping it back to my side before leading the way.
Inside, it reeks of stale smoke, spilled liquor, and perfume thick enough to choke on. Sequins flash under the low lights as girls in stilettos flit between tables, their laughter sharp, their eyes locked on the wallets that feed them. It’s not packed, but for a Friday lunch, it’s lively enough.
I ignore the noise and head straight for the back office. The manager looks up the second I step in, already on his feet. He shakes my hand quickly before reaching into the drawer and dropping a bag on the desk with a heavy thud.
“Here’s your cut.”
“All there?” I ask with a grin.
He chuckles, nodding. “Every penny.”
Remi lingers in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wary. I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t return it. Instead, she lets me take her hand as we head back out into the club.
I spot Sasha, her eyes locked on me as she pushes off the bar like she’s been waiting, strutting over with a glossy smile that only makes the bruise on her lip more obvious.
“You never said you were coming,” she purrs, her fingertip tracing down my chest. I feel Remi stiffen at my side, her hand twitching to pull free.
I hold tighter. “I was just telling the girls about that time we—” I shove her hand away, not breaking stride.
My focus is on the door, not her games. I don’t have the patience today.
“Shadow!” The shout cracks across the club. One of the prospects is waving me over, panic carved into his face.
I groan, already moving, but not before tightening my grip on Remi’s hand and fixing her with a look. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
Her eyes flash, defiant, but I’m already dropping the bag on the cloakroom counter as I pass.
“Watch that,” I bark at the kid behind it, my attention locked on the prospect. Then I release her hand and stride towards the noise, every muscle wired for whatever shitstorm’s about to hit.
Remi
The second Shadow disappears into the crowd, I’m left standing by the cloakroom, the heavy bag of cash slumped on the counter like it’s mocking me.
The guy behind the desk is barely older than me, with a mop of hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. He grins like he’s just hit the jackpot. “So, you’re with Shadow, huh? Didn’t think he was the girlfriend type.”
I don’t even look at him. My arms fold tight across my chest, my eyes locked on where Shadow vanished. The thrum of bass rattles through the floor, the shouts from the far side of the club tugging at my nerves. I’m not in the mood for small talk.
“Not really chatty, are you?” he tries again, leaning on the counter. “Shame. I could keep you entertained while you wait.”
I shoot him a glare, about to tell him where to shove it, when my eyes catch the bag again.
The weight of it. The way the zip gapes slightly, enough to show a glint of folded notes inside.
My chest tightens. Twenty grand. The number pounds in my head like a drumbeat. Money I’ll never have. Money that man will keep hounding me for until it destroys everything.
I force my lips into something resembling a smile and turn back to him. “Maybe I’m just picky about who I talk to.” My voice is lighter now, teasing.
He perks up instantly, leaning closer. “Guess I got lucky, then.”
I let out a low laugh, my fingers trailing over the counter as I edge closer to the bag. “Maybe.”
The plan forms quick, dangerous and reckless. If I can distract him for just a few seconds, keep his eyes on me instead of what I’m doing, I could slip enough out to make a difference. Not all of it. Just enough to start chipping away at the debt.
My stomach knots, guilt and fear tangling, but the thought of that man’s voice in my ear again, demanding, threatening, makes me steady my hands.
I lean in, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what’s your job here?”
He straightens like he’s about to deliver the most important answer of his life. “Cloakroom manager,” he says proudly.
I nod, feigning wide-eyed admiration. “Wow.”
“It’s an important role,” he assures me quickly.
I glance towards the commotion on the other side of the club, where security has already jumped in. Perfect. “Do you have your own office?” I ask casually. “All important roles should have one.”
His grin spreads. “I do. Wanna see it?”
I widen my eyes, delighted. “Damn right I do.”
“Let me come round to let you in,” he says, disappearing out of sight.
It’s my chance. My only chance. My hand plunges into the bag, grabbing a fat handful of rolled notes.
My pulse spikes as I shove them down the front of my jeans, tucking them into the comfy knickers Lexi bought me.
The door to the side opens just as I straighten up, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Right this way,” he says, beaming.
I nod like nothing’s wrong and follow him through.
His ‘office’ is no more than a broom cupboard with a battered wooden chair. He drags it out proudly, offering it to me.
I lower myself slowly, wincing at the muffled crunch of paper against my skin. “Nice,” I murmur, forcing a smile. “Bet you’ve taken loads of women back here.”
He blushes furiously. “Not really. You’re the first.”
“Lucky me.”
“Remi?”
The sound of Shadow’s voice makes me jolt upright. Panic licks my spine as I head straight for the door. “I have to go,” I say quickly. At the last second, I glance back. “Thanks . . . what was your name?”
“Lee,” he says eagerly, following me out. “If you ever need anything, just ask for me.”
I paste on a grin, nodding as I step back into the reception. Shadow is pacing, his eyes sharp and stormy. Relief flashes in his face when he sees me, until he notices Lee trailing behind. His frown deepens instantly.
“What the fuck were you doing?”
I grin wider, breezing past him. “Relax. Lee was taking care of me.”
“I told you to watch the money, not my old lady,” Shadow snaps, snatching the bag up and glaring at Lee before stalking after me.
The sunlight outside feels harsher than it should, beating down on the tarmac as Shadow shoulders the bag and stalks ahead.
I hurry after him, forcing myself not to touch my stomach, where the cash sits stiff and uncomfortable against my skin.
Every step makes the notes shift, reminding me of the risk I’ve just taken.
When he reaches the bike, he swings the bag into the side box with more force than necessary and turns on me, jaw tight.
“What the fuck were you doing in there?” His voice is low, dangerous, but it cuts sharper than if he’d shouted.
I shrug, trying to look nonchalant even though my pulse is skittering. “Talking.”
“With him?” His eyes narrow. “You vanish with some guy I don’t know, in a strip club full of sharks, when I told you to stay put?”
“I wasn’t about to stand around like a lost puppy while you played hero.”
His nostrils flare. “Jesus Christ, Remi. You can’t just wander off. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”
“I was fine,” I snap, folding my arms to stop them from shaking. “Lee was harmless.”
“Lee?” The way he spits the name makes it sound like an insult. He steps closer, his height casting me in shadow. “Don’t ever pull that shit again. Don’t leave my sight.”
The weight of his stare pins me in place, heat burning up my neck. Guilt gnaws at me, but I force myself to hold his gaze, to look like I’m not hiding a damn thing. “Fine,” I mutter. “Next time, I’ll sit quietly and wait, just like a good little stray.”
His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking as he exhales hard through his nose. For a second, I think he’s going to lose it. Instead, he yanks his helmet on and thrusts the spare one towards me. “Get on,” he growls.
I swallow, my throat dry, and do as I’m told, praying he can’t feel the wad of stolen cash burning against my skin.
“I need to drop the takings to Axel, then we’ll eat.” Shadow’s voice is gruff, final. With that, the engine roars to life and we tear back towards the clubhouse.
Minutes later, the bike screeches to a stop, and I swing off before he’s even killed the engine. His eyes narrow, suspicious, but I plaster on a quick smile. “I need the bathroom,” I blurt, already backing towards the door.
I don’t wait for a reply. My legs carry me fast, two steps at a time, heart hammering as I slip into his room and close the door quietly behind me. I drop to my knees, scanning the space like a criminal casing a joint. Come on, there’s gotta be somewhere. A shoebox, a drawer, anything.
I lift the bed skirt, peering into the shadows. Nothing but dust bunnies, a rusty tin box, and a duffel bag shoved deep against the wall.
I drag the bag out first, fingers fumbling at the zip.
The sight inside knocks the air clean out of me. Stacks of cash. Thick bundles banded tight, wedged in until the fabric strains. Not hundreds . . . thousands.
“Shit,” I whisper, clapping a hand over my mouth. My pulse thunders as I fumble the bag shut, shoving it back into place.
Panic claws through me. He’s sitting on enough money to make my debt look like pocket change, and I can’t even ask him for help. I won’t.
Scrambling to my feet, I snatch up the shopping bags piled in the corner. I yank out the trainer box, pry off the lid, and shove the stolen notes inside, burying them under the tissue paper. My hands shake so badly, I nearly drop it.
It’ll do for now. Later, when I’ve got more time, I’ll find somewhere better until I can get rid of it.
The creak of the stairs makes my blood run cold. Heavy, steady footsteps. Shadow.
I shove the shopping bags back against the wall, tug the trainer box into the pile, and scramble to my feet just as the door handle turns. My pulse is so loud, I’m sure he can hear it.
The door swings open, and there he is, broad shoulders filling the frame, kutte hanging open, his dark eyes sweeping the room. “What are you doing up here?” His voice is low, suspicious.
My throat dries. I force a shrug, trying to look casual. “Bathroom was busy downstairs,” I lie, keeping my arms folded so he won’t see the way my hands shake. “Figured I’d come up here.”
He studies me for a beat too long, eyes narrowing. Then he steps inside, brushing past me to toss his kutte over the back of a chair. The mattress dips as he drops onto the bed, elbows braced on his knees.
“You wanna eat out or order in?” he asks.
“I’d rather just talk,” I say. The last thing I want is food. My stomach’s too knotted, guilt gnawing at me from the inside.
“Fine.” He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sit, let’s talk.”
I lower myself onto the mattress, deliberately keeping to the far end. “You’ve been really kind,” I begin, but he groans loudly, dragging his palms down his face.
“Don’t you dare give me the speech.”
I blink. “The speech?”
“The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I mutter, though my throat feels tight. “But there’s truth in it, Shadow.”
“Logan.” His bark makes me jump. “You call me by my fucking name, Remi. Especially if this is the part where you’re dumping me.”
“I can’t stay here,” I whisper. “I don’t fit.”
He’s already shaking his head, moving closer to snatch my hands into his. “Baby, you’re wrong. Everyone fits here. That’s the beauty of this place.”
“I’m trouble, Logan. Sooner or later, you’ll get tired of me.”
“I won’t. Don’t write us off just because no man’s ever stuck around for you before,” he snaps.
“This morning—” I start, but he cuts me off with another groan.
“Fuck this morning. Fuck Sasha.”
“But that’s the point,” I cry, frustration spilling over. “She’s always gonna be a problem. I’m not like the others here. I can’t swallow my temper like Lexi or Rue. Sooner or later—”
“You’ll see you do fit,” he insists, his forehead pressing to mine. “This could be your home. We could be your family.” His voice cracks, the weight of it pressing into me. “Please don’t walk away.”
“I have to,” I whisper. “Before you do.”
“I won’t,” he says fiercely. “I swear it. Fuck, Remi, I’ll marry you right now to prove it.”
A shaky laugh slips out. “You’re crazy.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes. You want your stepdad gone? Done. You want Sasha to apologise? I’ll make her. You want me on my knees?” He slides to the floor, gripping my hands. My breath catches as I stare down at him in disbelief. “Then I’m begging. Please . . . don’t leave me.”
Tears sting my eyes. I slide down too, folding onto the floor with him. “Don’t,” I whisper as he cups my face, tilting it towards him.
“You think you’re not worthy,” he says, his voice low, urgent, “but you are. I see you, all of you, and you’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for. I’ve never felt like this before. Ever.”
He presses the lightest kiss to the tip of my nose, and I close my eyes, letting myself believe him for one fragile moment. His lips trail across my cheek, down the line of my neck.
“Stay,” he breathes against my skin.