Page 54 of Burning Ember

And I was trying to give her a clue she’s wasting her youth and ruining herself sticking around here, getting used by every brother who wants a wet mouth or a wet hole for the night. Not one of them is ever going to claim her. She’s better off leaving and finding a good man who doesn’t see her like we all do.

I slam her against the wall—cup my hand around her throat. Really choking her this time. Her eyes bulge out and she claws at my hand.

The last woman who slapped me was Dana. And it was the last thing she did before she disappeared on me. The next time I saw her after that, I nearly killed her. I would have, if my brothers hadn’t of pulled me away. The rage that’s pulsing through me boils to an inferno.

“Try that shit again and I will fuckin’ end you. You got me?”

I throw her to the side and she falls to one knee before quickly using the wall to stagger to her feet.

“In fact, get the fuck out of my clubhouse. You’re done.” I’m gonna do her a favor. One she won’t likely thank me for now. But in the end, she’ll be better off. Plus, she’s getting clingy. It’s time to cut her loose.

“No. Mav! No. Please don’t!”

I point toward the door. “Grinder,” I call out.

Grinder’s been a member for a long time. He’s seen it all. He’s got no problem taking care of her. He’s big and bald, and one-half of his face looks like it’s been put through the meat grinder, something he got in a fire, hence the name. He’s good at handling the women because he scares the hell out of them. Lucky for me, he’s off Nick babysitting duty tonight.

He stands and ushers a crying and pleading Star to the front door.

With rapid strides, I hightail it up to the second floor. Once there, I rub my hands over my head and growl out my frustration.

Always the same goddamn thing with these girls. Are they fucking stupid? We’re not white fucking knights in leather armor. Prince Charming doesn’t live in the den of the devil or share his soul with a sex-craved demon. Grow the fuck up and open your eyes. We’re bastards to our core and we don’t give a fuck.

I stop at Dozer’s door, halt in my tracks by the conversation I can hear on the other side. They’re talking. No moans or cries of pleasure. But for some fucked up reason, I hate the fact that he’s getting to know her. That he’s possibly learning who she really is. My subconscious yells,that should be me!

Shut the fuck up!I yell back.You dumb fucker.

My chest hurts and I swear to God my heart could be covered with dry ice ‘cause it burns and yet it’s so cold I can’t stand it. I don’t want it inside of me any longer. I swear to fuck it’s incinerating me slowly from the inside out.

Misunderstandings are the work of creative minds riddled with fear.

MAVERICK

It’s nine o’clock and I’m done waiting. After checking the crash room and verifying Dozer is sprawled out on the bed there, I walk in, go through Dozer’s pants until I find his keys, and remove the one I need.

In no time, I’m back at his door and slip the key into the doorknob. The door doesn’t unlock. When I twist it the other way, it locks. Because it was never fucking locked to start with.

I remember what Taz told Dozer and me the other morning, about the door being open. That it looked to him like Pumpkin was expecting company. I didn’t give it a second thought then. But now . . .

Now I want some goddamn answers. Like is she leaving it open for Dozer because he plans to come back, or because she’s hoping he will?

I heard him leave her room last night, so I know nothing happened between them. But for all I know they could have planned to get together later, after everyone was out for the night.

I try to tamp down the flood of jealousy rolling through me. But the feeling brings back memories of Dana giving an appreciative glance to a few of my brothers and how much that riled me at the time.

When I saw Dana for the first time at the car show on the fourth of July, I’d instantly been drawn to her. Every day until the day she left, she was the only woman I wanted in my bed. It was different for her though. In the eight months we’d been together, I caught her sizing up Edge once or twice. She loved watching others get it on. Got a rise out of being in the middle of a party when the lounge room turned into a fucking orgy. She’d beg me to take her right then. When I did, her orgasms were always more intense.

Where I wanted to keep her to myself, she relished voyeurism, and being watched. I don’t doubt she would have been all over a threesome if I’d ever suggested it.

For some fucked up reason, I wonder if Doll is the same way. She already has eyes for Dozer and for me. That much I can tell. But how far does that go? Does she really want to be a clubpiece if given the opportunity?

I push open the door.

The room is immaculate. It holds both her flowery scent and the hint of Dozer’s after-shave. The window in the room is open and the blinds are drawn up. Doll’s lying on her side, in the middle of the bed. She’s so small she only takes up a third of the mattress. Her red hair’s fanned out over Dozer’s pillow.

For a brief moment, an image of Dana sprawled out on my bed flashes through my mind. When Dana first came to the clubhouse, I talked her into getting clean. She had a rough time at first, but I nursed her through the worst parts. I remember her sleeping a lot during those first few days.

A breathy sound escapes Doll and she rolls to her back. I think for a second that I’ve woke her, but her eyes remain closed and she continues to breathe deeply.