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“I’m sorry.” He caressed my outer thighs but wouldn’t lull me into submission anymore with his soft touch and sweetness. “You know I care about you.”
“No, I don’t know that. When people care about someone, they don’t force sex on them. They help them find a job so they can afford to provide for their child, not abuse their bodies.”
“Jesus fuck, Ella. We don’t abuse you or the other girls.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I yelled in his face. “What the fuck do you think last Saturday night was? You let those assholes rape me! I was unconscious, you motherfucker!” I moved away from him and fisted my hands, wishing I had a gun to put a bullet in his dick… in all their dicks.
He shook his head like he couldn’t believe what I’d said.
“What? Lydia saw my battered and abused body. She was freaking out and wanted to take me to the emergency room. Landon got me the morning-after pill to ensure one of you animals hadn’t gotten me pregnant. They wanted me to take pictures and press charges.”
He stiffened and sat straighter.
“Oh, does that make you nervous, Vegas? That someone else saw how much you care about your club girls?”
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“Like hell you are.”
“I reacted poorly.” He came to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “It will never happen again.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“Again, I don’t believe you. You went too far, Vegas. Crossed the line and ruined any feelings I might’ve had for you. I thought you were my friend and protector, but you proved last weekend you are just like the rest of them.” I pushed out of his arms and left his office.
Of course, he followed me. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”
I stopped at the entrance of the bar and faced him. “I don’t think you can. Rockson could’ve seen my condition if Lydia hadn’t been there to help me into the shower.”
“Fuck,” he hissed and scrubbed his hands down his scruffy cheeks. One thing I knew for sure was that he loved my son. “The boy doesn’t know anything, does he?”
“No. I fake being happy really well.”
Vegas rolled his eyes. “Tell me what you want, Ella. I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I don’t know. A different job would be nice.”
“You’re the club’s property.” He took my hand and rubbed his thumb against the tattoo. “Stupid Rocky should’ve never put this on you.”
“Then pay to remove it so I can get a real job.” And get out of South Dakota. Before Lydia and Landon had left Sunday, she’d offered to help Rockson and me move to Minnesota. She said we could stay with her until I found my own place. God, I had wanted to pack a bag and run to Landon’s truck so badly, but instead, I thanked her for the offer and told her I couldn’t.
Rockson was looking forward to all the activities planned for the end of the school year and the little preschool graduation ceremony. I wouldn’t be the reason he missed out on the fun. But I’d take Lydia up on her offer in June if I could get released from the club.
“I can’t. The members would vote against it. Only the president can do as he pleases without a vote.”
“And when will you be president?” I honestly didn’t give a crap about the rules and bylaws or that he would take the position from Rocky. All I wanted was out of this godforsaken town.
“In June.” He eyed me strangely, like he wanted to tell me something, but refrained. “If you can find a job, I’ll talk to the club about reducing your hours.”
“I’ve tried to get a job. You know that. Can’t you make someone hire me so I can stop sucking dicks and taking it in the ass?” I was desperate and hitting a new low, begging him to force a local merchant to give me a job. Naturally, they’d hate me if Vegas bullied them, but I didn’t care. I wanted out of the Hell’s Bells MC.
He cradled my face in his hands. “I’ll see what I can do.” He kissed me softly, but I didn’t respond to him as I usually would.
A throat cleared, making Vegas pull back. His gaze went above my head. “What do you need, Tomcat?”
A swell of relief pooled in my chest.
