Page 28

28

I ’ve learned a few fucking things, not only about my Angel, but myself, in the last few hours.

Firstly, she has bewitched me. That’s the only conclusion I can come to that had me thinking of her most of the time at the warehouses, rather than actually the fact that something fishy is going on with our security measures, and the fact we now have dead men.

Secondly, I was ready to fight my way out of the club I’ve called home for fucking years, just in order to keep her safe. My club has always come first, until now, it seems.

And thirdly, the fact she shot me turns me the fuck on, which is twisted, yet I can’t find it in me to care.

And those are just the things I’ve learned about myself.

Angel, on the other hand keeps surprising me with these little fucking glimpses of a person that might have been beaten down one too many times, but who is still fighting, and probably won’t stop.

And she talks too much when she’s nervous, which brings me to the fucking word vomit she spewed to Smitty.

Yeah, I could have fucking stopped her, but I was just as curious to hear what she’d say next.

Something akin to pride swelled my nearly dead heart when she admitted to enjoying seeing how we tormented her parents. Just the fact she could stomach that is a sign that even though she looks frail on the outside, she’s not on the inside.

Then there was the other stuff.

“You called me an arsehole.” I grunt as she tries to kick my grip on her ankles free, and I have to fight back my grin.

“You yourself admitted you were an arsehole the other day.” Abbey retorts, still trying to loosen my hold on her with another round of unsuccessful kicks.

“Actually, we agreed I was a prick. That’s different.” I tease and she scoffs, finally stilling her attempted kicks to glare at me.

“Maybe you’re a prick and an arsehole,” she snaps, and this time I let my smile free, watching as her cheeks flush even more.

“Maybe. But at least I’m not jealous.”

Her eyes widen before they turn into slits. “I am not jealous.”

“Yeah, you are. You said as much to Mr President .” I tease, repeating what she called Smitty.

Her lips part to speak, but a second later they snap closed again, and her caramel gaze drops to her lap.

“Oh, come on, Angel. You admitted how much seeing Wendy vying for my attention bothered you. What was it you said?” I ask, squinting as I overdramatise my thinking expression. “Oh yeah. I believe the words were, that Wendy bitch was splayed out like a feast .”

“Shut up,” she snaps, although her tone holds little venom.

“You told him that we kissed, and how much you really liked it.” I tease a little more and watch as if in slow motion, how the apples of her cheeks flare even brighter.

Fuck, she’s beautiful like this, her blonde hair tied high, yet a little dishevelled with flyaways, the colour in her cheeks scaring away the deathly pale pallor she typically wears. I bet if I press my fingers to her skin, it’d be searing.

“And you admitted how annoyed you were that our last nearly kiss got interrupted.” I tug on her ankles, dragging her arse across the bed and closer to me as I kneel between her legs. “And what about that ache, Angel?” I rasp as I release her ankles and press my hands to the mattress on each side of her head, hovering over her. “Is it the same ache that had you pressing your hand between your legs while you watched me sleep the other day?”

An intelligible squeak flies from her lips right before she curls onto her side and slips out from under me, scurrying off the bed.

“Hey!” I mutter, frowning as I twist to sit on my bed and watch her practically press herself into the wall to pass by.

Is she scared of me?

“What’s happening right now?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head as she moves past the bed and gives me her back, but what she doesn’t know is that I can see her reflection in the old stained mirror in the corner of the room.

She doesn’t look scared, but what she does look is torn .

There’s a battle raging in that head of hers, and fuck. What I’d give to be able to hear her thoughts and have the power to silence her chaos.

That thought stuns me momentarily.

I used to feel that way a long time ago about Kylie. About the demons she fought daily that no one could see.

She once told me no one had the ability to quieten the storm inside her head. Unfortunately, there was one thing that silenced it, and in the end, it’s what killed her.

“I’m sorry I shot you. I didn’t even know it was you coming through the door.” Her voice is small. Timid. Filled with shame. “I just knew I couldn’t let them take me.”

In an instant, I’m up off the bed and standing behind her, my hands gripping her upper arms as I lean in close to her ear.

“Angel, I’m glad you fired that gun. I don’t want you to ever stop fighting for your freedom.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, Abbey relaxes back against me, and in the mirror, I watch as her lids flutter closed.

She clearly feels safe with me, but she’s obviously not ready for a big brute like me to take things further.

Even as I think this, I’m reminded of her admission to wanting to kiss me, and the ache she can’t fix.

“I still feel awful about shooting you,” she whispers. “What if you didn’t have that vest thing on?” Spinning to face me, her glassy, pained gaze falls to the welt on my chest where the bullet hit the Kevlar.

“It’s okay,” I rasp, loving how close she is to my bare chest.

Fuck, have I ever loved a woman being this close before?

“It’s not.” She shakes her head, this time her gaze shifting from the welt to the ink on my chest .

“Yeah, it is, Angel. Think of it as foreplay.”

Her caramel pools dart up to meet mine, and a small grin tugs at the corners of her lips.

“That wasn’t foreplay.” She remarks, and fuuuck me, her voice is husky, her gaze is lustful, and even though she’s in the fucking huge hoodie, I can still see the rise and fall of her chest with the way her tits press against the fabric as if they want to burst free.

“Fuck, Angel, I need to do something,” I admit, my gaze dropping to her plump lips.

“What?” she breathes, almost on a whisper, and fuck it. I’m going in.

Closing the distance, I nip at her lips, feeling the fan of her breath, almost like she sighs in relief to feel my lips on hers.

Darting my tongue out, I glide it over the seam of her parted lips, testing to see how pliable she is, and fuck me, she responds, opening for me to take the kiss deeper as I fist one hand around her ponytail and cup her cheek with the other.

As I moan into her mouth, she responds with a needy whimper that has my cock practically battering at my jeans to be set free and claim her. And fuck, as much as I want to do that, I hold back, knowing she’s not ready for that, but knowing she’s ready for something by the way she starts squirming on the spot.

“Angel,” I rasp into her mouth, not wanting to break the kiss to talk to her. “Does it happen when I kiss you?”

“Does what happen?” she asks into my mouth.

“The ache. Do you still ache when I kiss you?” I nibble at her lips this time, revelling in how she seems to lean closer, chasing my lips.

“Yes,” she breathes, and I take a chance .

Easing my hand from her cheek, I graze my fingers down the column of her neck to her chest, noticing how her breath hitches, yet her tits seem to press out further as if seeking my touch.

Deepening the kiss again, my fingers find the hard peak of her nipple straining through the fabric, and when I circle it, her moan is loud, her body sinking into my touch.

My cock is as hard as fucking stone. I want to feel her hands on me. I want to sink into her heat, but I also want to keep wringing out those sweet little moans that keep falling from her mouth and into mine as our tongues dance.

Fuck, she’s a good kisser. I can tell she’s hungry for this by the way her tongue strokes mine, and by the fever in her nips as I pinch her nipple gently through the fabric.

Needing to see how far she’s willing to go, I release her nipple and start to glide my digits further south, but the moment I do that, she gasps and shoves away, her chest rising and falling as her lashes flutter and it’s obvious by her panicked expression that she’s working to control her emotions.

She looks fucking beautiful. So fucking innocent and pure that I know I shouldn’t fucking taint her, yet all I want to do it stain her with my brand of evil.

“We don’t have to do anything more than that.” I assure her even as my cock jerks like it’s trying to slap me but can’t, due to being restrained by my fucking jeans. “But will you let me help you with your ache some time?” I ask. “When you’re ready?”

For a long beat, her caramel gaze bores into mine, like she’s trying to penetrate my cold black soul.

“I’m not sure I can do anything more.” She admits in a hushed tone, her gaze dropping to the ugly green carpet between us .

“I don’t have to touch you,” I tell her, my words forcing her gaze to meet mine again as she frowns.

“I don’t understand.”

I know she doesn’t, which is why I should be walking away. She’s too good for me. Too innocent. But fuck, I feel like I’ve been woken up from a three-year sleep, and she’s all I can see.

“You will understand. But right now, I should go out there and help Smitty with the men.”

“Oh… yes, of course.” She glances towards the door and then back to me. “Can I help?”

“Sure. If you’d like.” I grin, happy that she wants to help my family.

“Yes.” She nods. “It’s the least I can do. I feel like the only reason the police were here was to look for me, which means your men got hurt, and the Doxies had to do…” She shakes her head, anger contorting her expression. “Well, anyway, they all got hurt because of me.”

I’m not going to agree with her, even though she’s right, but I don’t want her blaming herself.

In fact, I get a really fucking bad feeling that the cops, who are clearly not on our payroll, and the security breach and deaths at the warehouse are linked. And if that’s the case, we’ve got a really big fucking problem.

“You didn’t make those cops behave the way they did, Angel.” I point out, moving to where I dropped my tee and slipping it back on. “Those fuckers are the worst kind of cop, and their behaviour isn’t on anyone but them.”

When I face Abbey, I can tell she doesn’t believe me, so instead of arguing it out, I gesture to the door .

Together, we venture out into the courtyard where the injured men are being patched up.

Despite the angry glares shot Abbey’s way by a couple of the Doxies, she moves past me quickly to a commotion where Nola and Darla are arguing over a whining Brody, while JD snaps at them all to shut up.

Following Abbey, I see Brody’s leg is bleeding profusely, a huge gash on his thigh the cause of his wailing.

Abbey maneuvers past everyone, and when Nola notices her examining Brody’s wound, she falls quiet, her arguing with Darla ceasing.

“Can you move your toes?” Abbey asks Brody, who stops whining like a little bitch, his green gaze locking onto my Angel as he nods and proceeds to wiggle his toes.

“What are you doing?” Darla snaps.

“Take off your belt,” Abbey orders, her gaze now trained on JD.

His eyes dart to mine, and I’m not fucking sure what he’s silently asking me, but I just give him a nod and watch as he unbuckles the leather strap and pulls it free.

Taking it quickly from JD’s grip, Abbey wraps it around Brody’s upper thigh and pulls it tight, causing him to cry out again.

“Ouch!”

“Stop it, you cow. You’re hurting him,” Darla snarls, slapping Abbey’s hands to get her away.

Stepping forward, I’m ready to tear Darla apart, but there’s no need. Abbey has it under control.

“Of course it’s going to hurt. His leg is sliced open and unless we get this bleeding under control, pain will be the least of his worries.” Abbey drags her glare away from Darla and back to JD. “He needs this stitched up. He needs to go to the hospital.”

“No need.” Smitty steps up next to me, gaining Abbey’s attention. “Our paramedic is on his way.”

“Okay,” Abbey nods, turning back to JD. “Come and apply pressure to the wound.”

She shifts so JD can get closer, and using the towel they were already using to try and stop the bleeding, Abbey shows JD how to keep pressure on the wound.

“Are you like a nurse or something?” Nola asks, a little in awe, and Abbey shakes her head.

“Not yet. But I hope to be one day.”

Fuck. I hope she is too. I can see how good she’d be at it, and how she genuinely cares.

“What are the chances you’re gonna keep this one?” Smitty asks quietly from next to me, and reluctantly, I pull my gaze from my Angel to my Prez.

“I can’t keep her.”

“Why?” he asks, and I shrug, turning back to watch her talking quietly to JD about his injured brother, who is still hissing in pain.

“She’s too good for our world, man. She’s already been through so much bad shit. She needs to be with someone that can give her the fucking world.”

“Damn.” Smitty chuckles. “She’s been here, what, nearly a week, and she’s already got you so wound up.”

“Nah, man.” I shake my head. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m just trying to help her. That’s all there is to it. ”

I want to slap myself for the lie. I don’t know if I’m lying to protect her from me or the club. Either way, both options aren’t fucking great for me.

“If you fucking say so.” Smitty laughs, slapping my shoulder right as my phone starts ringing in my pocket.

Taking it out, Liam Marx flashes across the screen, so I quickly accept the call.

“Speak.”

“You know, you could be less of a prick when you answer the phone. Did you get lessons from Barrett? That fucker is always answering calls like that,” Liam asks, and I smirk, keeping my amusement to myself.

“Why the fuck would I answer any other way when I know it’s you calling?”

“And Barrett would say the exact same thing. You two been hooking up behind my back?”

That makes me chuckle.

“That fucker hasn’t been in the country for ages. I can’t remember the last time I saw his ugly mug.”

“Same. Wait, actually, it was just after Gracie’s sixteenth birthday. He flew out the next morning and hasn’t been back since.”

Barrett Marx is one of Liam’s older brothers. His role in the family business is international relations, or something like that. He spends most of his time abroad, brokering deals and making new connections that will help their family, but even so, he’s normally home every couple of months.

I guess this fucking virus has kept him prisoner in another country.

“So, what’s the update?” I ask Liam, not feeling all that up for a fucking social call.

“Straight to fucking business.” Liam chuckles. “We don’t have a full audit yet, but it looks like some of the medical equipment stolen was surgical.”

“Surgical?” I ask. “Normally it’s just virus-related stuff that gets stolen. You’re saying someone stole equipment used to perform surgery?”

“Yep, they sure did. That and some nursery equipment.”

“Nursery equipment?” I fucking frown, confused as fuck.

“Yeah. You know, for like newborn babies.”

“The fuck is going on?” I mutter.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Liam agrees. “I’ll send through a full list once we have it. In the meantime, we’ve arranged for your men to go to Morgan’s. Let them know if you plan to have funerals. Otherwise, they know the deal. They’ll keep quiet.”

“Thanks man,” I mutter, knowing that Morgan’s Funeral Home will do whatever we ask of them. “Can I get you to follow up on some people for me with your contacts?”

“Of course. Always happy to help my Camy boy.”

“For fuck’s sake. Stop calling me that,” I snap, ignoring his snickers. “Four cops were here. One was Officer Allen. I find it a really big fucking coincidence that he turned up just minutes after we left for the warehouses.”

“You think he was in on it?”

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“Okay. Is that all?”

“The other three officers who were with him. I don’t know who they are, but I need you to find out. And also, while you’re there, anything you can find on some teen fuckwits from Fox Pines. I’ll send you their names.”

“What do you want with some fuckwits from Fox Pines?” he asks.

“Well, man. I want their fucking heads.”