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God had always remained an abstract concept for me. Neither of my parents were the religious sort, so I wasn’t sure what made me think of him now. Maybe it was because I was coming face to face with death for the first time. If that were the case, I had only one regret, and it had nothing to do with not taking advantage of Antonio’s gilded prison.
The gunfire ceased, the absence of noise after the chaos of moments ago almost deafening. We lay there, huddled together, still, waiting. For what, I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t about to move until Jules told me to. He could have easily left me to die on the front lawn, job or not, yet he hadn’t.
Dark eyes met mine, a ghost of a smile on his lips. This fucker was clearly mental, and I’d put my faith in him. Blindly, I might add. It made me think of my best friend, Brandy. Maybe she had it right after all. She’d fallen for the craziest, most dangerous man I knew, and she was blissfully happy.
“Care to go inside now?”
His words were a slap in the face. Jules would definitely not be the knight in shining armor who carried me off into the sunset. Moment of insanity gone. But the man had kept me alive, and I wasn’t about to spit in his face by being reckless.
“No, but I will let you give me a ride to the clubhouse.”
CHAPTER 3
STELLA
“So, you and Lurch, huh?” Tweak’s dark head popped up over the trunk of aChevy Impala, the bent plastic bumper he’d torn off still in his hand. Plastic skidded across the cement as he tossed it aside and asked, “Should we expect this douche train you’ve been riding to get off the tracks soon? Asking for a friend.”
“A friend or friends?” He shook his head, his signature dimple giving him away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Theclub is worse than a bunch of sorority sisters at a slumber party.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound competing with the heavy metal coming from the speaker beside me. Asshole. The lot of them were, but they were my assholes and I’d do anything to protect them. Which was why I couldn’t let on that Jules and I were hardly an item. He was more like a tampon—functional and necessary, yet you wished he wasn’t there.
“Come on. You can’t be serious about this guy. He dresses like a funeral home director and watches you like he’s afraid someone is going to steal you.”
Tweak, and his cousin, Ryder, with their tousled hair and chiseled physiques, were like catnip for women. Ryder’s sense of responsibility to the club his father helped build lent him more of a brooding I-don’t-give-a-fuck quality, while Tweak openly flaunted his magazine worthy looks. He presented himself to the world as a charming playboy, but I’d always seen beyond his charisma to the understated shrewdness that lies beneath.
All the guys had been worried about me after Switch left the club, but he’d been the only one to see that I needed an outlet for all the rage I had stored up. He’d taken the screaming, wrench throwing, and even the hexing of his manhood in stride. For me.
But this he couldn’t help me with. I’d gotten myself involved with a man I shouldn’t have, and now I had to put on my big girl panties and deal with the mess I’d made of my life.
So, I raised an eyebrow and pasted on what I hoped was a smirk. I’d never consciously tried to recreate something that came as naturally to me as breathing. It felt strange on my face, but I ignored the sinking feeling in my gut to concentrate on punctuating my expression with words.
“You can tell all the asshats upstairs that I’m quite serious about what he can do with that monster cock of his, so you guys better get used to seeing his ugly mug around here.”
The look on his face was honestly priceless. If I had to describe it, I’d say it was a cross between a gag and a cough with a dash of curiosity mixed in. The guys hadn’t been lying. Tweak really was a big ol’ freak. Which was saying something, considering the shit I’d witnessed at the clubhouse over the years.
Come to think of it, maybe that was why my tastes leaned toward dangerous men who were more likely to bend me over a chair than whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Vanilla was boring, but in my case, it would have also kept me out of trouble. Instead, I was stuck lying to my family and friends about my creepy shadow.
Damn. Speak of the devil. The towering frame of my jailer filled the doorway, and I looked down at my watch. Six o’clock, on the dot. He didn’t trust me not to outmaneuver him, not that I blamed him. I’d fought his presence in my life like a hellcat and lost. Miserably.
That didn’t mean I was going to take my defeat lying down. No, I would take every opportunity I could to make him suffer for following Antonio’s orders. Maybe that made me a bitch, considering he’d saved my life, but I needed an outlet for the resentment that simmered in my blood like lava.
We’d been joined at the hip for three weeks now, and during that time I’d learned a thing or two about Jules. He drankRed Bullthe way some people drank water, he always smelled of fine Cuban cigars even though I’d never actually seen him smoke one, and he didn’t like to be touched. Ever. Anywhere, anytime, for any reason.
Setting down the wrench in my hand, I sauntered up to him, enjoying the way his lips thinned as he watched myapproach. When I stopped directly in front of him, he tensed, but didn’t take a step back. Mainly because we both knew he couldn’t.
This bit of payback was the only control I had over the situation I’d found myself in, and damn if I wouldn’t wield that motherfucker like a sword. His swift intake of breath as my blunt fingertips trailed up the lapel of his suit jacket was a satisfying jab, but I wasn’t done twisting the blade. I needed him to suffer as I did. To feel trapped the way I did.
With his towering height, the only way I was going to reach him was on my tiptoes. Fine with me. I’d become a goddamn ballerina if I had to.
He leaned back as I drew closer, forcing me to either concede to a peck on the cheek, which I wasn’t about to do, or contort my body to reach him. We might have needed to keep up appearances for the sake of the club, but he wasn’t about to make it easy for me to capitalize on his weakness.
His breath fanned over the bridge of my nose, the smoky and sweet aroma of tobacco, leather, wood, and spices filling my lungs. Our lips had barely brushed when I felt a shudder work itself through his body.
He couldn’t help his reaction any more than I’d been able to stop the tears that were streaming down my face when he barged in on me in the bathroom this morning. We still wouldn’t be even, but this minor victory would have to tide me over. For now.
Jules’s left eye twitched as he watched the heels of my boots kiss the cement and I wondered if he was even aware of the small tell. My guess would be no, and I filed that away along with everything else I knew about him because sometimes it was the minor details that tripped people up. Anything I could use to escape his watchful eye, I would.
“Are you ready to go?”
