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Once I’m settled at the corner of the bar, I watch as the club gets busier. But my focus isn’t on what’s happening in the room, it’s on the three men who enter shortly after another group of dancers start their routine on stage. Monster Rebel, and Sully saunter in. They’re in charge, there’s no question about it. Monster takes a front row seat, and even though I’m nothing to him and he’s nothing to me, I can’t help the shiver of resentment that courses through me.
Jealousy rears its ugly head when one of the girls offers him a smile. I don’t recognise her from the club, but it’s clear she’s got her eye on the man in charge. She drops to her knees, toying with him as she wiggles around on the smooth, shiny stage. When she rolls over onto her back, she spreads her legs wide, and offers Monster a clear view of the apex between her thighs.
The rest of the group cheer and whistle, but he doesn’t react. At least, from my viewpoint I can’t tell if he does, but he seems to sit so still I wonder briefly if he’s asleep. But then Rebel throws a note onto the stage in her direction, and that’s when Monster pushes his chair back and rises to full height.
The girl smirks when he leans in, his mouth right at her ear. I’m not sure what he tells her, but from the way her grin falters, it doesn’t seem good. Monster turns and walks away, leaving the poor girl staring after him. The lads don’t follow him, and I can’t deny I’m intrigued.
When he steps out of the club and the door shuts behind him, I can’t stop my feet from following. I shouldn’t be doing this. He could find out who I am and have me killed, but my need to be near him is far too strong. I exit the noisy club and find Monster leaning against the brick wall, smoke billowing from his lips, and he turns his attention on me.
His gaze is heavy, dark, his scowl obvious. “You’re meant to be inside,” he tells me as he takes another long drag on his smoke.
“I wanted to see if you’re okay,” I say, suddenly unsure of why I want to be anywhere near this man. He’s grouchy. He’s rude. And I know he doesn’t like me.
He side-eyes me, his dark brow arching as he regards me. “You worried about me, wee fox?” His question startles me because he’s never been other than gruff towards me. But the nickname he’s given me makes my cheeks heat. All I can do is hope he doesn’t notice I’m blushing.
“I just don’t like seeing people upset.”
“What makes you think I’m upset?” This time, he turns to face me fully. “You talkin’ about the dancer in there?” I nod. “Aye, she wanted to ride my dick tonight. Are you offerin’ as well?”
I step back in shock at his blatant question. My mouth drops open, but I force it shut because I have no response to throw back at him.
Monster takes a step towards me and leans in close. The spicy scent of his cologne feels as if it’s draped over me, causing me to shiver at his nearness. “Unless that pretty little cunt you’re hidin’ is still pure and tight.”
“You’re filthy,” I bite out as anger takes hold.
“Aye,” Monster acknowledges. “Is that somethin’ you like? Did Bragan’s men get ye used to the fact ye’re nothin’ more than a toy to them?” His voice is so low it’s practically a growl.
The idea of any of my father’s soldiers being near me sends revulsion racing through my veins. From my short time in that hell hole and coming face-to-face with most of Patrick’s men, I can’t bear the thought of any of them desiring me.
I want so much to tell him who I am. Right now, I’m angry enough to come clean. He’ll probably kill me, but I don’t like him thinking I’m just some girl who’s been passed around men who worked for my father.
“Is that how you see all women?” I throw back, hoping to knock him off-kilter.
When Monster looks at me, I see it in his eyes, a flicker of something, regret perhaps, but I can’t be sure because it’s gone the next second.
“Go inside,” he tells me.
Folding my arms across my chest, I meet his rigid stare. I’m about to respond when gunshots ring through the night, one slicing against my arm, sending me to the ground with Monster covering me from the attack.
The club doors swing open, and there’s more shots fired. This time I realise Rebel, Sully, and Racer have appeared, their focus on the fleeing motorbikes that rumble by. Once silence hangs heavily, I look up into the face of the man who I know hates me. Those dark eyes sear through me, and it’s as if he’s looking directly into my soul.
His gaze drops to my arm where pain radiates like a beacon, and I want to scream, but the sound is stuck in my throat. Monster moves off me swiftly before looking at the men who are now watching us.
“Get her inside.” His order is gruff, and soon I’m on my feet with Rebel and Sully leading me into the club.
We make our way to the back rooms where I’m perched on a chair. Sully is examining my arm, but my eyes are on Monster as he shrugs his cut off, then pulls the T-shirt he’d been wearing up and over his head.
Every dip and peak of his muscles tense and release with the movement. I’m more than distracted by him when Sully suddenly presses on the wound, which is bleeding, and I cry out in agony. When I do manage to tear my eyes away from Monster, I find Sully standing beside me with a pair of tweezers. Pinched between the metal tongs is a small piece of metal.
“Bullet shattered. This was stuck in yer arm.” The corner of his mouth tilts upward. “Brave girl.” He turns and walks out as if he’s just told me the weather is lovely today. They’re so used to guns and violence it’s no surprise we’ve just been shot at. But I have a feeling the target was me, not Monster.
Monster and Rebel turn their attention on me, but it’s Monster who speaks, “You need to come clean.”
My mouth falls open in shock. “What?” I squeak, and I wonder what the hell they want me to tell them.
“Monster!” A woman shouts his name, and I pray he’ll leave me be.
Sully returns with bandages and a first aid kit. The man looks at me, then Monster, and I can tell he’s noticed the air in the room is charged with something dangerous. I have no doubt that the President of the MC will lose his mind when he learns the truth.
