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It’s a place where dreams—my dreams—were shattered, and where I’m a nobody. Again, that’s not true. I’m not a nobody, I’m hated, loathed, worth less than the brain cells they’re wasting with all the shit they snort.
“Princess,” Grayson rasps as he places his hand on the small of my back. “Things will be different this time.”
Bastard Can Fuck Drenched Pussy Loudly.
His words remind me of the job I have to do, that I want to do. And just like that, the ice thaws and I feel steadier already.
“Let’s just get it over with,” I sigh, unwilling to let him know I’m now almost giddy to get back to the swing of things.
If I still have to work behind the bar, I’ll find a way to spike his drink. If I’m not, I’m not above threatening Mama C to do it. That’ll even my score with her. Okay, so I don’t yet know if I have any leverage on her, but I think I do. I can’t imagine Rocco and Grayson will be too pleased to find out she helped me escape.
The more I think about it, I realize the truth of my thoughts because Grayson didn’t just show me vulnerability while we were gone, I’m pretty sure he’s not willing to hurt me. Unlike what he wants me to believe, I don’t think it’s because he cares, which means he needs me for something. To catch my dad, perhaps. Whatever it is, I’m worth something, and he slipped up by letting me gauge that little nugget of information.
When we enter the clubhouse, the talk immediately dies down.
“Where the hell have you been, man?” Gunner’s booming voice sounds entirely too loud in the quiet room.
“I’ll tell you later,” Grayson says, dismissing his friend. Then he nods toward Rocco, who doesn’t look surprised to see us. “Give me a minute to put this away, then we can leave.” He lifts my bag into the air to show what he means.
Rocco opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, Mama C moves closer. “Give it to me.” As soon as she’s holding my bag, she hands it off to one of the Cruz Cunts. “Take care of that. We need to get to the hospital. Now,” she says in her no-nonsense tone.
While Grayson says something to Rocco, someone pokes my shoulder. When I turn to look, there’s no one there. But as I look the other way, I come face-to-face with Gunner.
“Sugar!” he exclaims happily. “It’s good to see you back here.”
I don’t get the chance to protest before his arms envelop me in a tight hug.
“Likewise.” I can’t help but grin at him.
After letting me go, he throws his arm over my shoulder and leads me back outside. “Do you want to ride with me?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows playfully.
“Sure,” I easily agree.
I’m just about to climb onto Gunner’s bike when Grayson comes storming toward us. “No,” he growls menacingly. “You don’t ride with anyone but me.”
“But I—”
He shakes his head. “Don’t fucking argue with me,” he clips.
I sigh and shoot Gunner an apologetic look before following Grayson over to his bike. Fucking asshole. I knew the Mr. Nice Guy was nothing more than an act.
“Do you know what it means to ride on someone’s bike?” he asks, anger palpable in his tone.
“Of course I do,” I volley. “It means I’m getting a lift, Grayson. Nothing more.”
He laughs darkly and licks his lips. “That’s where you’re wrong, Princess. It means you belong to the rider. Is that what you want? To belong to Gunner?”
My jaw is slack. “You can’t be serious,” I spit incredulously.
Grayson nods as he turns his head toward Rocco and Mama C, who are getting ready to leave with us.
“Hey Mama, want to ride with me?” he shouts loudly.
The woman bares her teeth and flips him off. “Fuck off, Gray. You know I won’t ride your cock or your bike.”
Rocco scowls. “What the fuck?”
With a laugh, Grayson holds his hands up. “Just proving a point. That’s all.”
