“You mean he’s going to be taking a little trip to Bali or some shit on our money pretty soon,” Gauge grumbled. He hated Doctor Collins as much as I did, but Shooter was right—we needed a doctor of his reach on the payroll.
“Pretty much,” Shooter said “Beast, let Gauge and Casa handle this—”
“No!” I barked, interrupting him. “I’m dealing with this.”
Shooter’s jaw twitched and he came toward me. “Listen, brother, I know you’ve been through a hell of a lot in the past year, and I’ve let a lot of shit slide because of that, but you need to remember your place. I think I’ve been patient enough, but I’m done with that now. So I’ll say this one more time, as your president: leave Gauge and Casa to handle this shit for now. You keep working on getting yourself better, because you ain’t fucking there yet.”
Shooter held my gaze for several seconds, and I felt a rage for my president I hadn’t felt before. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to lash out and hit him over and over and over, destroying that pretty fucking face of his. How dare he tell me what to do. I gritted my teeth, my jaw ticking as we stared at each other. The temperature of the room dropped and the air stilled.
“Step off before this ends badly for you,” Shooter warned. “Because brother or not, I won’t be undermined by you or anyone else. This is my fucking club and what I say goes. You feel me, Beast?”
I took a deep breath, staring down at him, my jaw still ticking like an alarm clock. And then I looked away, feeling all kinds of hate and guilt that I’d almost lost it on him.
Shooter patted my shoulder. “I get it; you feel things for her and this situation is messed up. But your head is all fucked up right now and I don’t think you’re thinking clearly. We’ll keep you in the loop of what’s going on and you’ll be involved, but right now I need my enforcer back to a hundred and you’re barely scratching forty. So get yourself right and then get yourself back to work, brother.” He pulled me in for a hug and I sighed and hugged him back, slapping his back.
“Sorry, Prez. This shit with the mafia has got me all fucked up inside,” I admitted—seemed safer than admitting that Belle was the one that had gotten me all fucked up, even if he already knew it. If I denied it, it wasn’t happening.
Shooter sighed. “Let’s get you back to the clubhouse, brother. Everyone’s looking forward to seeing you again. It’s been a long time and you’ve been missed.”
I nodded, more than ready to get out of this place. These four white walls had haunted me for the past year, and I was done with staring at them. Yet now something else was haunting me…the video of me being tortured was out there for everyone to see, and I knew I wouldn’t rest until I’d watched it for myself. Even if it killed me to see.
Chapter Two
~ Belle ~
My shift was finally over, but I wished it wasn’t. For once, I wished I still had a couple of hours to go. Tonight I was going over to tell Jenna about my mom, and I was not looking forward to it.
The day had been long and hard though, and my feet were killing me, not to mention the mess inside my head. After the way Beast and I had left things, and then Lorenzo coming to my rescue… I just didn’t know what to think anymore. It was all so messed up, and I wasn’t sure what was happening to me. I didn’t do this sort of thing; I didn’t sleep with two men in less than twenty-four hours. Lorenzo hadn’t said anything about it after Beast had so eloquently blurted out my misadventure with him, but he was thinking about it, that was for certain.
When we left the hospital after their argument, he took me to lunch in the park opposite. He’d packed a picnic, but neither of us ate anything. The food lay between us as he seethed over what Beast had just said and I sat there shamefaced and guilty. But he never brought it up. Never said a thing. And when my lunch was over, he let me walk away, food untouched and with barely a goodbye.
I should have been happy that it had been like that; I didn’t have to talk about it. Yet I wished he would have just come out and said something, because I sure as heck didn’t know how to bring it up.
I sighed and headed to my car. The air was cool but I felt like I was on fire, heat licking at my insides. The start of a headache was coming on, so I sat in the driver’s seat and rummaged through my purse for some aspirin, because Lord knew it was only going to get worse. The more I thought about it, the more I was regretting saying yes to my mom. It was going to be awful for not just me, but for Jenna too. I just hoped that she didn’t hate me afterwards.
Setting my purse down on the passenger side, I started the car and looked up, noticing Joey, the prospect, sitting on his motorcycle under a streetlamp. He was watching me, and the friendly face I’d come to know over the past month or so was gone, and in its place was a dark look. My blood instantly chilled and I looked away from him and headed out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
Looking back in my mirror, I saw him pull out and begin to follow me, and my heart sped up. Oh my god, had Beast ordered him to kill me? Was I going to die now? Hot tears began to roll down my face, and the more I tried to contain them, the more upset I got until I could barely see. Thankfully, Jenna lived pretty close to the hospital, and I pulled up in front of her apartment a trembling, terrified mess, but at least I hadn’t crashed.
I sat there for several moments, swiping away the tears and trying to pull myself together. Joey was sitting three cars back, still on his bike, and still staring at me. I knew it was time to face this—face him. I couldn’t go into Jenna’s knowing he was out there waiting for me. Or worse, that he might come in to kill me and inadvertently harm Jenna and Gregory. No, I needed to face this now.
Grabbing my purse, I climbed out of my car, and with trembling knees I started to walk toward him. As I got closer, Joey pulled on his helmet, started his bike, and left without saying anything. I stared after him, wondering what had just happened.
Was this how it was going to be now? Would I always be looking over my shoulder, wondering when he was going to send someone to kill me? And why send someone to do it for him? Why not do it himself? Had I really hurt him so much that he’d chosen to have me killed but couldn’t bear to do it himself? I shook my head no, realizing that I was quickly spiraling and needed to calm down. There was no way that I’d made that big of an impact on Beast. I was just another notch on his bedpost. Another woman. Another name in his little black book. I’d fallen for it—for him—and put my newfound relationship with Lorenzo in jeopardy, and for what? For a psychotic, jealous, obnoxious man who couldn’t take rejection? Who didn’t like to be questioned on his actions?
I stomped my foot, frustrated, upset, and annoyed at myself and at him.
Why I had even gotten involved with him, I had no idea, but I regretted it with every bone in my body. After the hospital encounter and now this—Beast was swiftly becoming the biggest mistake I’d ever made.
I was terrified of him sending someone back to finish the job, but what could I do? I had no way of contacting him and asking him to just get it over and done with or get over it. There wasn’t even anyone I could tell, because I wasn’t stupid enough to go to the police and I wasn’t about to endanger Jenna or Lorenzo by telling either of them. No, like everything else, I was in this on my own.