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“Open your fucking eyes.”
“Til’ death do us part, princess.”
A heaviness slowly evaporates from my body.
“I think she’s coming to.” Shallow water rushes me, my throat dry, body cold, but I feel as though I’m gurgling water and sweating buckets from overheating.
Cracking open my eyes, the immediate sting of light flashes before me, forcing them to close again. “Shit,” I mutter, moving my hand to my head slowly.
“Don’t.” Squinting, I notice a guy I had never seen before. To say he’s attractive is an understatement.
Don’t even think about it, Blaine.
A bucket of reality pours over me as the vividness of my dream comes back. The whippings. The scars. His face.
Pushing everyone away, I scramble to sit up and force my gaze around the club. There’s no one here.
“Where’d everyone go?” I wheeze, lungs burning.
“You passed out. We cleared the club to give you guys some privacy,” the new guy says, kneeling next to me.
Prez clears his throat, gesturing to the new guy. “Leather, that’s Tornado. Tornado, Leather.” Lifting my hand, I push it out for a respectful handshake. His face screws up in confusion, glancing down before looking back at my face.
“Once you get cleaned up, we can discuss what your next steps are.” He doesn’t even touch my hand, simply brushing it off with an awkward glance. Nodding, he stands, rolling his shoulders back to his full height and walking away.
“What,” I pause, mouth gaping open at the man who is suddenly going to invade my dreams.
“He’s new to the club. He came from a sister gang out west. They are dispersing due to the feds.”
My blood spikes, my body growing rigid. I don’t need the feds up in our business.
“He can’t stay,” I demand, though it’s more of a measly comment.
“Yes, he can and he will. He’s the new sergeant at arms. If you would have accepted the offer, you would have moved up in rank.”
“I don’t want to be a gun runner, you know that,” I scoff, shoving Prez's hands off of me. He leans back, dragging a red colored cloth with him.
“You’re right. That’s why you’re staying where you are. I still need the position filled, and what better way than to have someone know what they are actually doing?” Knuckles laughs, cracking his fists on the floor.
“Here,” Prez shoves the red cloth into my hands, only to have red drops hit the floor.
“What the fuck?” I hiss, dropping it to the floor with a wet plop.
“Ah, that’s your blood. You smashed your head pretty good on the edge of the dais when you tumbled.” Screwing my face in disgust, I push to my feet, swaying slightly.
“Easy,” Charles coos. A strong hand wraps around my elbow, panic immediately seizing my heart. Grabbing the hand, I start to do a wrap spin when I realize they are not him.
“Fuck,” I hiss, dropping his hand like a hot potato. “Please just…don’t touch me right now.” Taking a few steps back, all three guys watch me closely. Prez watches me like I’m a fucking flight risk. Knuckles has a mix of worry and anger in his eyes. And Charles…he looks like he’s ready to cry. I want to wrap him up in my arms and tell him everything is going to be okay.
I wish I believed that myself.
Nothing is ever okay.
Chapter Nine
Tornado
“Did you see her?” He asks, his voice grating with irritation.
