Chapter 4 Scarlett
Scarlett
Sunlight flickers across my face, pulling me out of a deep sleep. I can’t remember the last time I slept so deeply. I’m usually woken by drunk voices outside my door and the rattling of my lock.
It must mean that Dad’s back. The club members leave me alone when he’s around.
Most of the guys respect him enough to leave me alone all the time, but there’re a few assholes in the club that stare at me in a way that makes me uncomfortable, they say nasty things and lunge for me every time they drink.
Memories of last night flash through my mind. The clubhouse being destroyed, Bruno pinning me down, Bruno tying me up, Bruno carrying me over his shoulder. Bruno, Bruno, Bruno.
I sit up with a start, the last blanket of sleep crashing around me.
I’m not in my box room at the clubhouse. I’m at the Underground Crows clubhouse, and I’m Bruno’s prisoner.
My gaze darts around the room. The rest of the furniture is as plush as the bed.
A dark mahogany dresser sits in one corner, an armchair in another.
It’s nice, homely, and tidy, much nicer than the rooms back at my clubhouse.
But I’m not here to admire the decor. I need to get out of here before someone comes back and does God knows what to me.
I push myself out of bed and to the window.
In the darkness last night, I couldn’t see where the drop leads. But in the daylight, I see some empty crates and a keg of beer. There’s nowhere for a soft landing.
I’m about to try the bathroom again when I hear a key turn in a lock. The thought that Bruno’s on the other side of the door makes me hesitate.
He’s not like the guys at my MC, I can tell. He says he won’t hurt me, and I believe him, but it’s more than that. When I was pinned under him last night, when I saw the flash of desire in his eyes, I wanted him too.
But I push that aside. I’m half his age and his rival’s daughter. I must be mad to be having naughty thoughts about the Underground Crows’ president.
The door handle starts to turn. It’s now or never. Flinging open the window, I swing my leg over the sill.
“Hey!”
Bruno’s gravelly voice almost makes me stop, but I push on. I can’t let my feelings for him cloud my judgement. Who knows what his men will do to me… I have to get out of here.
I swing my other leg over the windowsill, mutter a quick prayer to whoever’s listening, and jump.
The concrete comes up quickly, and I land half on a crate and half on the hard ground. Pain shoots up my ankle as it twists under me.
“Scarlett!” The fury in Bruno’s voice makes my bones rattle. I glance up, and he’s leaning out of the window. But it’s not anger on his face. It’s pure terror.
We stare at each other, my breath ragged. I should run, but I’m transfixed by the intensity of his gaze, wondering what he’s so frightened of. I didn’t think anything could scare Bruno.
“I’m coming for you.”
He ducks away from the window. I imagine him thundering across the landing and down the stairs. I have a few seconds to get away, and I should run. I should get up and run.
“Get up, girl,” I grit out between my teeth. But when I push up off the ground, pain shoots up my ankle.
“Fuuuuck!” I crumple on the ground, holding my ankle, my eyes squeezed tight against the pain. And that’s how Bruno finds me a few moments later.
“Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?”
The concern on his face is genuine, and without waiting for an answer, his hands are on me. With a gentleness that belies his huge frame, Bruno checks me over, his hands running up my spine, over my hips and my shoulders, checking for injuries.
“My ankle.”
His hands press my ankle, and I wince at the pain.
“It’s sprained.”
The terror subsides as he realizes I’m still in one piece.
“You scared me, Scarlett. I thought you’d really hurt yourself.”
There’s relief in his voice. Does that mean he cares for me? Or is he just worried that I might kill myself before he can use me as a bargaining chip?
Bruno’s arms slide around my waist, and he hoists me into his arms. I’m not a small girl. I’m short and dumpy. But in Bruno’s arms, I feel light as a feather.
He carries me through the clubhouse, and this time, I lean into him, enjoying the solidness of him and the comfort it brings.
“Get ice.”
Bruno calls instructions as he carries me up the stairs and back to the room. He sets me down carefully in the armchair and pulls a stool over for my leg.
A big guy with a beard and kind eyes brings in a bag of ice and a dish cloth. Then he leaves us alone.
Bruno slides off my shoe and the sock underneath. His touch is tender as his fingers caress the arch of my foot, and I pull back, giggling.
“That tickles.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I had to check that you still have feeling in your feet.”
“I can feel it hurting.”
He wraps ice in the dishcloth and drapes it over my ankle.
“It’s a sprain. You need to keep it elevated, let it rest.”
I nod because this is so surreal, the president of the Underground Crows nursing my injured ankle.
“Do you really want to get away from me that badly?”
Bruno’s hand is holding the ice in place, and his fingers graze my leg, sending shots of heat up my body.
I glance at him quickly, not sure if his touch was intentional.
The way he’s looking at me makes my cheeks heat. He’s intense, his chiseled features set with deep lines showing off a life well lived. The flecks of silver in his hair give him a commanding look, and I’m ready to be commandeered. I’ll do anything he asks just to keep those eyes on me.
I’ve dated a few guys over the last few years, but no one gives me shivers the way Bruno does.
“Not you,” I say because it’s true. I know Bruno wouldn’t hurt me.
“Then what are you so scared of, Scarlett?”
I lower my eyes because this is hard. I’ve seen what behavior goes on in clubs, what’s expected of the women.
When I don’t answer, Bruno takes my chin in his hand and tips my head up so I’m looking at him
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Scarlett.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath in. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”