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Beast
This is my favorite time of the day. Sitting outside the clubhouse on a felled tree, I watch as the sun kisses the horizon, a new day being born. Taking a deep drag from my joint I enjoy the early morning air, listening to the world come to life around me. All the guys have finally gone to sleep, and I’ll join them shortly.
I thought about driving back home, but Trinity won’t be home until Christmas and Justice is upstairs with a piece of club ass. The house is empty and I feel like I’m going crazy there all by myself. I have a room here at the compound so I might as well just crash and get it done with. The joint hits me, and I feel myself relax, knowing I’ll sleep fitfully when I head inside.
My peace is interrupted by the crunch of tires on gravel, and I turn to see who it could be. What I’m not expecting to see is the little sports cage that Preacher drives. I’m even less prepared to see Irene get out of the little car with a broad smile painted across her beautiful features. My anger spikes at the thought of her with someone like him even though I know I have no right.
If I take a moment to be brutally honest with myself, I know I’m just as bad if not worse than he is. But my logical mind isn’t calling the shots now. I’m pissed at him for making a move on her before I did. Even though I know that’s my fault.
I watch her laugh at something Preacher says as she leans in the window of his car before turning to walk away. It’s then her attention falls on me and she smiles even wider.
“Beast…” She waves as she heads over to me.
“Irene,” I mumble as she takes up space beside me.
For long moments we sit in silence watching the world becoming more colorful as the sun rises. Irene bumps her shoulder against my arm to draw my attention. Looking down, I see her smile.
“Are you going to share?” She stares at my joint.
“Didn’t you already have enough tonight?” I ask.
I’m being a bastard, but I can’t help it. I want to throttle her for staying out until dawn with Preacher doing God knows what. But I have no claim on her so I can’t even say something. On the other end of the spectrum is this all-encompassing desire I have for her. Even with all my anger, the moment I look at her I want to kiss her until she can’t remember another man.
“I didn’t drink that much.” She pushes against me. “Besides, I just had a wonderfully delicious greasy breakfast.”
Handing over the joint, I watch her closely as she inhales deeply. She is exactly the type of woman I want for myself. Not just the way she looks but her personality, intellect, and everything in between.
“Breakfast?” I ask, slightly confused, as she hands the joint back to me.
“Yeah.” She breathes out the smoke through her nose. “Preacher took me to a diner after Dusk closed.”
Instead of speaking my mind, I take another drag of the joint before passing it off to her with a nod. Irene takes two big drags and smashes the end under her heel. We remain outside, neither speaking, but the tension in the air is palpable.
“Did I do something?” Irene asks quietly, shocking me.
“What do you mean?” I frown. “Why would you ask that?”
“When I first got here you were always around, talking to me, flirting with me.” She looks up at me, the morning sun setting her eyes ablaze. “But the last week, you’ve been actively avoiding me.”
Shit!I didn’t think I was making it that obvious. I don’t want her to think this is her fault.
“It isn’t something you did,” I draw my gaze away from her. All I want to do is kiss the shit out of those pouty lips.
“Then you’ll have to explain what the hell happened. Because this sucks,” she says and sighs. “I thought we were becoming friends. I get along with everyone else.”
“That’s the problem,” I say as I get up. “You want me to be just like all the other guys.”
I don’t say anything else as I stomp away. I can’t do this shit with her. I can’t be just another one of the guys, another friend. How the fuck am I supposed to just sit around and be her fucking friend while someone like Preacher gets to have her? Maybe it was just never meant to be.
“Don’t do that!” Irene yells from beneath the tree. “Don’t start a conversation and walk away from me.”
“Leave it alone, Irene,” I call out without turning around.
“Whatever!” she yells.
Walking into the clubhouse I move toward the bar instead of my room. My buzz has been ruined and I know I’ll never be able to get to sleep now. So, I round the counter and grab a bottle of whiskey from the shelf with a glass before pouring myself a decent measure and shooting it back. I hear the door open and her heels clicking on the floor, and I don’t look up but rather refill my glass. My control is at the snapping point.
I can hear her talking but I don’t catch the words. I’ve seen Hadley do this when she is mad at Wolf, so I know she isn’t talking to me. I fully intend on ignoring her, that is, until I do catch something she says.
