Minutes later, we arrive at the clubhouse. It’s a big deal, and I can’t stop the nervous sickness bubbling in my stomach. I don’t know these people, but somehow, with Clay, I feel safer than I’ve ever felt.
Inside, there’s a low hum of rock music being played through the jukebox and the bar is a hive of activity. The sound of chatter rings loudly, drowning out the music. As the door squeaks open, everyone turns to look at us. I almost want to retreat into myself, having all eyes on me makes me self-conscious. As if sensing my nervousness, Clay places his hand on the small of my back, encouraging me into the room.
“They won’t bite,” he says with a laugh, and I take a deep breath before falling into step with Clay and heading for the bar.
“Beer please, Hazel,” Clay shouts as he pulls out the bar stools for us to sit on.
“What are you having, Belle?”
“Erm . . .” I cough, clearing my throat. “Just water, please.”
Hazel smirks, raising a brow. “Where’d you pick this one up, Clay?” She laughs, and I feel my cheeks redden.
“Just get her a fucking water,” he snaps.
She recoils slightly, holding her hands up in defeat. “Who the fuck rattled your cage?” she asks as she places some ice into the glass. Clay rests his hand on my knee, the simple touch comforts me and I relax instantly.
“About bloody time,” a woman shouts from behind me, and I turn to see Lizzy. I frown, looking to Clay for an explanation. He glances away, having the decency to look embarrassed.
“You’ve met Red,” he mutters, and my frown deepens. “The idiot with her is Rock.”
Lizzy steps forward and embraces me in the biggest hug. I stiffen, feeling almost numb to her embrace.
“These goons nicknamed me Red, but don’t worry, I am actually called Lizzy. I’m not some crazy stalker woman.” I laugh nervously.
“Nice to finally meet you, Bella,” Rock says as he pulls Lizzy back into his side.
“I’m confused,” I admit.
“I asked Red to look out for you. She’s Rock’s ol’ lady and has had her fair share of psychotic exes.”
“But . . .” I run my hands over my face, giving my brain a second to catch up. “You had someone watching over me?” I ask, and he almost looks ashamed.
I shoot to my feet, the chair screeching against the tiled floor, and head for the door. His hand catches my arm, stopping memid-stride. I glance down at his touch as though it’s burned me, and he lets go immediately.
“Wait,” he says, following me out. “Just give me a chance to explain.” I push the door open and step out onto the steps, wrapping my arms around myself like a coat of armour. I feel hurt, betrayed, and yet I have no idea why. He was trying to do a nice thing, but somehow, it feels sneaky.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay, I was worried.”
“Maybe I should just go,” I mutter.
“No,” he says a little too quickly. I stare at him, and tears well in my eyes. “You can’t,” he says, calmer this time, “I have to protect you.”
“I am not your responsibility, Clay. You didn’t have to send Lizzy or Red, whoever the hell she is, to befriend me.”
He reaches for me, and I step back so his hand falls away. “I’m sorry, I fucked up.”
“You want to know what hurts more?” I’ve never seen him look so unsure of himself. “That I thought she was my friend because she wanted to be, not because you sent her.” I turn away from him. He steps closer, and I can almost feel his breath on my neck.
“She is your friend, Belle. One thing you need to understand about Red is that if she doesn’t want to do something, she won’t. She’s had these bikers by their balls on a number of occasions,” he says, reassuringly. “She genuinely likes you.”
I turn to face him. A lone tear rolls down my cheek, and he uses the pad of his thumb to swipe it away. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Please, just stay, speak to Red, and you’ll see that she’s genuine.”
I nod, admitting defeat. Right now, in his presence, I feel safe, not only from Liam but from myself. He takes hold of my hand, and instead of guiding me back into the bar, he leads me up the stairs.
Clay
I open the door to my bedroom and lead her inside.
