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Mike and Joe shuffled on their feet, giving short nods.
He nodded, and the guys went back inside, passing Rourke, who still had John in his grip. He pushed him forward, and the prospect stumbled. He righted himself.
“You are seconds away from losing the prospect patch. Fucking truth or I take it, we beat the shit out of you, and ban you from not just the club but the fucking city.”
“Okay, I know them.” He gave up the truth a lot quicker than Trax had expected.
“Who?”
“The guys from the apartment. I went to school with them. They’re not bad guys, just thugs, man. Told them to back off, they said they would.”
Trax ground his teeth. “You see her fucking face. You call that backing off?’
“Look, I’m just saying, we don’t know this girl, but I know the guys.” He scanned the men surrounding him and shrugged. “If they did that, she probably had it coming.”
He barely finished the sentence when Trax’s fist descended across John’s jaw, snapping his neck back. The prospect stumbled, but Trax caught his shirt before he fell. He punched his stomach so hard pain shot through his arm. The guy keeled over, and Trax brought up his knee, slamming it into his face and feeling the crunch of his nose. John shouted. Trax dropped him to the ground and stomped on his back.
“Motherfucker, you had that coming.” Trax backed away and watched the sorry excuse for a man roll over, grunting in pain. Not one brother moved. They looked on with disgust at the prospect. He was officially out. There wouldn’t be any second chances for John.
“We’ll clean this piece of shit up. Go, man.” Gage slapped him on the back, and Trax walked through the door into the house. He ignored the stares from his brothers. They’d get the story tomorrow in church. Right now, the only priority he had was getting back to Cheyenne. He unlocked the door and then opened it to see Meg watching TV with Cheyenne snuggled into his bed.
Meg took in the sight of his bloodied hands. “You good?”
He nodded and jerked his chin to the bed where Cheyenne lay cuddled into his pillow. “Give you any problems?”
Meg smiled and glanced over at her. “She’s a sweet one for sure. Spent ten minutes apologizing to me for her attitude.” Meg rolled her eyes and smirked. “Girl gets the hell beat out of her and damn near raped, and she’s thinking about me and my feelings.” Her eyes teared up, glancing back at Cheyenne with her bottom lip trembling. “Said Mick fought hard thinking of me. She said she knew the way he said my name that I was the last thought he had before closing his eyes.” Her breath hitched as a tear fell down her cheek. “I needed to hear that.”
Trax stepped a foot closer, wrapping his arm around Meg’s shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. Her body shook against his chest, and he clung on to her harder. Meg put up a hard front for the club. Brave and strong, but deep inside, she was dying without Mick.
“The only saving grace was he didn’t die alone. It may not have been me, but she held on to his hand, giving him comfort.”
“Yeah.” It was all he could say without getting choked up. Mick was a huge loss to the club, but more for him than any other member. She squeezed Trax into a hug and let go abruptly, stepping back. She wiped her eyes and smiled.
“You need to make sure she’s safe, Trax, for Mick.”
“I will.”
Meg smiled, a small glimmer in her eyes. “I know you will.” She reached up, kissing his cheek, and jerked her head to the bathroom. “Go get cleaned up. She wakes up and sees your hands, she’ll probably freak out.”
He cleaned up quickly, and when he came out, Meg had left. The glimmer from the TV shined over her, snuggled under his covers. A gentleman would have left her alone and found somewhere else to sleep.
Trax undressed, keeping only his underwear on and climbed into bed with her. The moment he settled, she turned her body, draping her arm over his chest. She snuggled into his side while he lay frozen. This girl was traumatized enough. If she woke up tangled in the sheets with him, she was liable to freak the fuck out and slit his throat.
She curled into his shoulder, resting her face in the curve of his neck. The slow puffs of air tickled him, but he resisted the urge to move. Her fingers dug into his side, her leg crossed over his thigh, and she curled into him. This girl was like a cat. He should have untangled her limbs from his and found another place to sleep for the night. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her back, lifting his hand to feel her hair between his fingers. Even in a tangled mess, it was silky and soft. He dropped his arm to her back, gently pulling her closer.
It had been so long since he’d lain in a bed with a woman and hadn’t fucked her, it seemed strange. Comfortably and soothingly odd. Any chance of him leaving the bed were shot down the second she curled into his side. He hoped to God she didn’t wake up. He wanted her in his bed and in his arms, where she was safe.
He turned, resting his face against the top of her head, his hand caressing her back. She was different from most women he’d been with, including his ex. Ariel hadn’t a pure bone in her body. But Chey? She was loyal and fierce and so damn sweet. This woman would be his downfall, he feared. Or she could be his saving grace.
Chapter Six
Cheyenne stirred in the warmth of the sheets. The soft bed was nice, but the straining ache of her body was making it impossible to fall back asleep. She slowly peeked open her eyes. The room was the same from last night. It was dark and unfamiliar. She craned her neck slowly. Trax. His eyes were closed, and he was only a breath away from her. Her heart raced. His lips were parted, and she was entranced by his mouth. His lips were definitely soft. She inched closer, wondering how he tasted. Probably like morning breath, so get outta the goddamn bed. She squeezed her eyes shut. Of all the things that had happened last night, her focus should not be on Trax and his enticing lips.
Her body stiffened as she tried to calm her breathing. What the hell was she even doing in bed with him? She inched away, making slow movements. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up. His hand on her back fell to the mattress as she sat up. His bare torso evenly rose with a steady heartbeat. He was definitely fast asleep. The perfect time for a getaway. If she could only stop ogling him, she could get out of there without him waking. Her gaze traveled down the contours of his abs. I knew it. How could she have missed it last night? He was heavily tatted. A large mural was colored into half his chest, wrapping around his shoulder and down his arm. She’d had boyfriends in the past with decent bodies, but nothing quite like Trax. Strong muscles outlined his pecs and abs. She wouldn’t even know how to go about getting her stomach to look as defined as his. She followed her gaze down and caught sight of his dark gray briefs.
She felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing she’d spent all night in bed with him and all they did was sleep. Snap out of it, moron.
She jutted up onto her hands and knees and bit back a groan. Her aching muscles served as a reminder to last night’s events. She slowly crawled to the edge of the bed. She was fully clothed, but someone had removed her socks and sneakers. She scanned the floor. Aside from ashes, a few receipts, and a thong in the corner near the dresser, her sneakers were not there. She sat back on her feet and perused the room.
