Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
VIKING
When the bakery closes for the day, I watch through the windows as she cleans up. She sprays down countertops, sweeps floors, and then wipes out all of her cases. I can’t take my eyes off her. Every movement she makes is dripping with unintentional sex.
I still want her.
So damn badly.
I thought maybe if I watched her, if I saw her day in and day out, it would get better. That it wouldn’t be exciting. She would be just another woman, any woman. Maybe I would get bored. I tend to do that, get bored after I’ve been around someone a while.
I think the major issue is that I haven’t fucked her. The new hasn’t worn off, because I haven’t worn her in yet. And I can’t do that without putting my life on the line and my brotherhood with Piggy at stake. Neither of which I’m comfortable doing.
I respect Piggy too much to fuck him over like that. And he doesn’t respect me enough to give me permission to pump and dump his sister. So here I am, watching her and wondering if I’ll ever get tired of it.
I’m not sure I will. Not until I actually fuck her. It’s consumed my thoughts, and now I’ve built it up so much that it feels like if I don’t, I might actually lose my fucking mind. So I’m basically completely fucking fucked.
Generally speaking, that is.
Tilting my head to the side, I watch as a black car pulls up to the front of the building. It might block my view if it were a lifted four-wheel drive, but since it’s a fancy little Audi, I can see over it.
But that isn’t what has my attention. It’s Lainey opening the bakery front door, slipping out, and then locking it behind her just as the door to the car opens.
The bakery is absolutely ridiculously girlie.
It’s all light green and pink. I don’t know the exact shades, but I think my balls shrivel a little every time I walk through the door. It’s perfect for her.
Lainey’s curls are free from being bound up, and she looks even more beautiful with her wild curls free.
A man unfolds from the front seat. He stands up straight, careful to keep his back to me.
I know he’s seen me, no doubt clocking me the second he turned down the street, and he’s being purposeful in his actions.
I also know, from his stature, his haircut, and specifically the suit, exactly who he is without him even turning around.
It’s Paul.
And if I had to guess, Lorenzo is in the back seat. If I make a scene, it’s going to fuck up the relationship between the Front Mob Family and the club. Which would be bad for several businesses, and the fact that we’re entangled with them now means, to a degree, they have us by the balls.
So instead of charging toward them the way I want to, I watch as he approaches her. He makes a motion behind her. She shakes her head a couple of times, a welcoming smile playing on her lips, then says something, and since I can’t read her lips, I have no idea what it is.
He dips his chin, then reaches out, and she slips her phone into his hand. I watch with contained rage, but just barely. I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment, waiting for him to get back in his expensive fucking car and drive away.
For his sake, he does.
When he drives away, I inwardly flip him the bird. Outwardly, I stay perfectly still, my eyes never leaving Lainey. She makes her way toward her car, which is parked in the lot on the side of the building so she doesn’t take up space in front of her store.
She stops at her car door, then looks over at me. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are on mine for a full thirty seconds before she opens her car door and sinks down inside. I don’t move. I don’t need to. She knows I’m here, and there’s no reason to pretend I’m not.
Taking the phone out of my pocket, I find Bullet’s name and send him a text.
SHIT JUST GOT REAL. PAUL AND LORENZO CAME TO THE BAKERY.
BULLET: WHAT HAPPENS NOW?
NOTHING. AT LEAST NOT YET.
BULLET: I CAN’T CALL THEM OFF.
BUSINESS. I GET IT.
And that’s the fucking long and short of it. Business. Club business is the be-all and end-all for us. I understand it, though, mainly because there are a hell of a lot of us and everyone has bills to pay. I’m not about to fuck up my brothers’ shit.
I would absolutely love to beat the shit out of Paul. Well, it doesn’t matter who it is. Paul is just the one who is trying to get my woman currently. I couldn’t give a fuck about the actual person himself. It’s what he’s trying to do that I have a problem with.
My woman.
My back straightens as I step away from the wall. I’ve been spending too much time watching her. I haven’t been laid nearly enough. I’m starting to hallucinate, calling Lainey mine when I know she is anything but… and she’ll never be.
I need to get laid.
And fast.
Luckily, I know someone who lives in the building across from Lainey. I can pop in, fuck her, and then get back to my duties. I have to. Otherwise, I’m going to continue to think of Lainey as mine and fuck everything up.
LAINEY
The knock on the door should surprise me, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t.
I half expect it. I’ve been waiting for him to make himself known.
Clearly, he’s watching me for a reason, and now that I know for certain it’s something to do with only my safety—not the other women’s—and with the club, I want to know who the hell is after me.
I walk over to the door and look through the peephole, just to be sure, although the knock was manly, loud, and obviously Viking’s. The man is almost seven feet tall, and even though he’s buzzed his blond hair, it doesn’t make him look or seem any less intimidating.
Opening the door, I tilt my head back slightly as I look up into his eyes. His brows are furrowed as he watches me for a moment. I don’t move away from the doorway. My thighs tremble, and my knees threaten to give out.
I hold my breath as I wait for him to say something. When he does speak, I don’t expect it. I thought that maybe he’d have something else to tell me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he jerks his chin, his eyes flicking from mine to past my shoulder.
“Out of the way, babe. I’m coming in.”
What an asshole.
Stepping to the side, I let him in, but only because he would charge past me in about five seconds if I didn’t. Closing the door behind him, I flip the lock in place, then turn around to face him. But I stay in place, leaning against the door as I watch.
Viking moves toward one of the windows, looking outside. He stays there for an uncomfortable amount of time in silence, then slowly turns to face me. I think about asking him what the hell is going on, but decide against it, mainly because he opens his mouth and starts to speak… begins to demand.
“What did that man say to you today outside the bakery?” he demands. I blink, unsure as to why he’s asking me about a customer. Before I can answer him, he continues. “The one in the fancy-as-fuck Audi. And what the fuck were you doing with his phone?”
I didn’t need further explanation. I knew exactly who he was talking about. I could feel Viking’s eyes on me, burning a hole into my clothes as the man was talking to me, then following me to my car.
“He wanted to know if we were still open. I told him we’d be open tomorrow and that I’d already donated all of the day’s leftovers to the shelter.”
He dips his chin in a single nod, but he doesn’t respond immediately, probably because there’s nothing to say. The man in the car literally asked me about the store hours and said he would be back, nothing more, nothing less.
“The phone?” he demands.
I almost laugh in his face, or completely ignore him, but I don’t think he would like that too much. I have a feeling he would lose what little control he has on his shit. Which I don’t understand, so instead of goading him, I tell him.
“He wanted the bakery’s number. I put it into his phone. It’s public knowledge.”
“He’s going to kidnap you,” Viking snaps.
My eyes widen, and my breath hitches as I stare at him for a moment in silence. He doesn’t give me anything else, and I don’t understand why. He can’t just drop a bomb like that and then not follow it up with any details.
“What do you mean he’s going to kidnap me?” I demand.
I’m met with silence.
“Viking?”
He watches me, his eyes searching mine, and I wish I knew what he is looking for. If I did, I would give it to him. Whatever he wanted would be his. Just for a taste, a touch, anything to have him. I would do anything—be anyone.
Or at least I would try.
“That man wants to combine our groups, and he thinks because you’re Piggy’s sister that it’s a good place to start.”
“Is this… does this involve Cidney and the troubles she had?” I ask in a whisper.
I know it must. I can’t imagine that it doesn’t. It’s way too similar not to. Except maybe this isn’t some nefarious attempt to kill me, but kidnapping does not sound like a fun time, so I’m going to go ahead and assume it’s all despicable anyway.
“Kind of, but not really. Same group, different people. He’ll kidnap you and marry you. It will intertwine our groups. You will be and are invaluable to them, because you are to the Vicious Reapers.”
“What if I don’t want to be?” I ask in a whisper.
He snorts. “Babe, it doesn’t fucking matter. I’m trying to keep all of this from happening by protecting you. Piggy didn’t want you to know what was going on. He didn’t want you to be on lockdown. But there’s no way out of it. They’re coming for you.”
I almost laugh, but decide against it because I’m scared as shit. I’m equally terrified to go on lockdown and to be kidnapped by someone who thinks marrying me is going to do something for the club. I never wanted to be part of this club, yet I keep getting involved.
Though I involve myself with the old ladies, because I actually like them. And then there’s Viking. I would involve myself if I thought I could. So maybe it was always meant to be. Maybe no matter how much I have fought against it, I was always supposed to be part of the Vicious Reapers.
“What do I do now?”