Page 46 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

Angel

We’re flying through the woods, Creed and I.

Creed.

I love that name. It feels so familiar on my tongue, but infinitely more… right, because a creed is something noble, something worth keeping.

Just like my man.

I bury my face in his leathers, eyes closed as I cling to his back, trusting that he will keep me safe on the way home, just like he kept me safe at the rally, when Domino found me. Creed really does notice everything.

A part of me is sorry to leave our friends behind—and yes, I already call them that in my mind, despite only moving to Vulture Hollow earlier this month—but there will be other parties and rallies. This night together feels special.

I want to be alone with Creed, free to tell him things I wouldn’t entrust to anyone else, to breathe in warm air straight from his mouth, and show him he belongs. With me. With his brothers. On the canteen wall.

When he slows down I know we must be driving into Vulture Hollow, so I open my eyes and look around. The central area has a few lights on, even at night, but I’m alarmed to see fire and smoke from afar. Creed’s not tensing up though when we drive that way, so I don’t panic either, and he was right.

We drive past one of the little squares around which several of the cabins huddle, and a small bonfire is burning in the middle.

When people glance our way, I spot Brigid and her daughter Luna among at least a dozen teens roasting something over the fire, a few of them crafting figures out of sticks.

I don’t have time to work out whether it’s some mystical ritual or just entertainment. We drive down the dirt road toward the canteen instead.

The village is quieter without the bikers and their party-loving friends, and the main communal area feels deceptively still as we stop close to the empty playground.

The scent of moss hangs in the air as I slide off the motorcycle and take a lungful of it, straining my eyes to see details in the dark.

A couple of people are still up, as evidenced by lamps in individual cabins, but the canteen appears deserted, and I half-expect to see dust once we enter.

Grinning at Creed, I march up to the main door and press on the handle, to find the entrance locked. He stops by his bike to grab a jacket from the saddlebag, but he doesn’t put it on, which is no surprise because it’s not particularly cold outside. He has his habits, so I don’t question it.

“It’s locked,” I announce my disappointment when he joins me.

Creed shakes his head. “Of course it is.” He walks into the bushes to the side of the door, then scoots down there, disappearing from my sight. When he eventually emerges, a set of keys jangles in his hand.

I cock my head. “Do you have spares for every building?”

“Most of them. Prophet even trusts me with his.” It’s clearly a point of pride, because he stands straighter when he says it.

Creed unlocks the door and opens it for me like a gentleman.

As if we’re not breaking in. As if he’s taking me to an exclusive event, he’s wearing a suit worth thousands of dollars, and I’m the date he intends to seduce.

It’s working.

“This place looks different after dark,” I mutter, facing the shadows of tables and benches stretching far into the space where everything becomes a uniform shade of black.

The moment I finish speaking, several lamps light up at once, illuminating the canteen just enough to prove that it is still in use, and we won’t be attacked by zombies.

Though there is Beaky watching us from above.

I can only hope the vulture carcass isn’t coming alive any time soon.

I grin and head straight for the back of the canteen, to the wall covered by a dense layer of pictures featuring members of the community and those deemed worthy of being invited to Vulture Hollow.

I pull out the piece of cardboard I used to keep our photos from bending, and pick up the first one we took, in which both Creed and I are staring at the camera, drunk on that moment of happiness.

“Where should we put it?”

Creed looks so serious when he assesses the board, as if this decision could make or break his life. “Here,” he points out a spot. “Not central, but also not on the sidelines.”

And next to a photo of Clyde and Road sharing a massive hunk of meat like two cavemen, so maybe it’s secretly a gay couples’ competition, but I won’t tease him about it, because I know his self-esteem is fragile, and I don’t want him to doubt himself.

I take some of the sticky tape from a box resting on a side table and use it to arrange the picture of us in a way that makes it stand out among photos with a darker general color.

“There!” I tell him, taking a step back to admire my work. The other photos will go in my private stash.

I’m surprised when he pulls me in for a hug.

The way he’s opening up to touch is so endearing.

I don’t want him to feel patronized, so I’d never say it to his face, but it’s like enticing a dog that’s been kicked too many times.

I think he’s not just enamored with me, but actually trusts me now, which is so precious I want to kiss him all over.

I could hand him the keys to my house, the PIN to my phone, and doze off knowing he wouldn’t touch me sexually until he knows we’re playing.

We linger in comfortable silence, looking at the photos together, but he eventually pulls away and stands in front of me with a tense expression that makes him no less handsome.

He’s so very pale his skin is like porcelain in the dim yellow light of a single lamp above the photos.

I shaved him before we went out, and I’m pretty proud of the moisturizing regime I enforced, as it’s made his skin perfect in no time. Bruises and swelling can’t spoil it.

Creed clears his throat, and now I’m starting to worry, because he’s shifting from side to side.

“I… I got this made for you,” he says and holds up the jacket.

When he unfolds it, I realize it’s not a jacket at all, but a leather vest. It’s on the shorter side, with fringing at the bottom, but it’s the patches on it that make Creed’s intention’s clear.

The club logo in the middle, Property of on top, and Creep at the bottom.

“If you accept it. I know you’re barely settling in Vulture Hollow, but Angel…

you mean everything to me. You made me feel that I deserve to be seen, and I want everyone to see you as mine.

My name would protect you even when I’m not there. ”

The playful mood from moments ago is gone, replaced by a sense of importance. It’s just the two of us here. I don’t know whether he wants to make sure I don’t feel pressured to agree, or if he’s worried what might happen if others see me reject him, but he chose this setting for a reason.

He wants honesty.

Something I haven’t quite offered him yet.

A sigh shakes my body as I lower my head, fighting the urgent desire to ignore that fact and let him claim me.

Isn’t that what I always wanted? To belong with someone who cares for me instead of enjoying my presence as part of a draining arrangement?

I wanted something real. Something so raw and visceral my man and I would be like two primordial beasts, the last of their kind and utterly dependent on one another.

But I don’t have the right to demand something real if I’m not willing to offer him the same. Now that Domino knows where I am, keeping Creed in the dark is too risky. Even if I’m putting my life on the line by outing Domino.

“N-no?” Creed whispers, but it’s like the cracking of ice about to lead to an avalanche. I need to stop it before it’s too late.

“No. But it’s not what you think. I… I want it. I want you. But I’ve had a secret, and you need to know it before you decide if you really want this.”

He doesn’t even blink. Watching. Waiting. Assessing me and my worth? I’m getting into my own head now, so I better spit it out.

“I was sugaring on the side, right? With those two guys you know about, but there was also a third, and…” I flap my arms about as the pressure in my chest grows, threatening to either break my ribs or squash my heart.

I don’t think there is anything particularly bad about selling sex, or having many partners, but I would always let things go too far, trying to please guys, and once that happens, retreating can be incredibly difficult. Of that, I am ashamed.

I also worry that despite all the acceptance Creed has given me so far, this might be too much. What if he worries that I’ll cheat on him, unable to stick to one man, or something of that nature?

What if he blames me for what happened with Domino earlier?

“Look, I’m sorry. Maybe we should have talked sexual history in detail, but I wanted you so much, and—it was just easier not to.”

Creed takes his time as his frown deepens. “He’s an ex. What’s it matter? I don’t care how many guys you’ve been with. It’s your business. Unless… there’s a reason you’re telling me this?” His dark eyes cut into my heart like razors. “Does he still… mean something to you?”

Every word coming out of his mouth makes the furious pulsing in my head speed up, until all I can hear is my frantic heart, but I decided to tell him everything, and I will.

“It’s Domino.”

Creed’s fingers tighten on the vest he’s still holding between us like a prize I don’t deserve. “I don’t understand. Did you… look for him tonight? He’s a bastard, Angel.” His breathing quickens, and I need to put a lid on this, because I’ve not expressed myself right at all.

“No!” I step forward, showing him the palms of my hands.

“He’s the reason why I originally didn’t want to go to the rally.

I knew that if he caught sight of me, it would be game over, and if you weren’t looking, he’d drag me away somewhere,” I say, forcing the words out through my clenched teeth.

The muscles of my jaw ache, and so does my throat, but I keep going, because I won’t tell him the rest if I lose my courage.

“He’s a nutjob and wouldn’t leave me alone.

I even tried to get away one time, and he ended up slashing my tires, so I figured it’s safer for him to get bored of me.

But he just wouldn’t! He won’t admit he’s gay, and since I am available, he wouldn’t let go. ”

Creed throws the vest over his shoulder and steps closer to stroke my shoulders. “Oh, Angel… I’ll have a nice long chat with him, don’t worry.”

And this was exactly what I was worried about most. “No, you can’t!

” There’s too much air in my lungs, so I shut my eyes and exhale, already imagining Creed bleeding from a wound in his head, after Domino tracks him down somewhere.

“He’ll kill me. He told me he’ll bury me if I tell anyone about him! ”

Creed tightens his grip on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “Oh, now he’s fucking dead. I’ll get rid of him, Angel. I won’t tell a soul.”

“I knew you’d say that,” I mumble, shaking my head as worry grows, making me jittery and sick.

“But I don’t want you to do anything. Maybe he will back off now that he knows I’m taken?

Because what if he ends up hurting you? Or if his brothers find out, and there’s once again war between your two clubs? I’m not worth all that risk!”

He grabs my hand. “You are. You are who people would start wars over if this was one of my favorite books. But I understand you might not want that.” Creed takes a long shaky breath. “I could always… provoke a confrontat—”

“No, Creed, he’s angry, but he’ll let go. He’s in the closet, he won’t rock the boat. I just needed you to know, because I want no lies between us.”

It takes a while, but he finally nods. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” I swallow and lower my head before stepping straight into his arms. I love that he smells of my soap, cotton, and leather, and when his strong arms close around me, I feel invincible. “May I get a patch with your real name?” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the base of his neck.

“Only if you wear this one for now.” Creed says against the side of my head.

My heart feels so light now that I’ve shared my awful secret with him, and there’s also peace to knowing he listens to what I want instead of going after Domino, guns blazing, for his own satisfaction.

For the first time, I’m with someone who cares about my opinions, and I’m so fucking grateful that I can’t stand another minute without that leather vest.

“Put it on me,” I ask and spin around, stretching my arms back. His gaze burns, and I cock my head to show him my vulnerable neck.

Creed moves silently as he slips the vest on me like he’s handing me a crown. It’s just some leather with words on it, but in my mind, this is it, more important than a ring would be. I accept being his and trust that he will cherish me as his possession.

He kisses my neck with a reverence that has me fighting for breath as I lift my arm to bury my fingers in his hair. And that’s when I smell it.

My sweat.

“Ewww, why didn't you tell me that I stink?“ I whine, spinning in his arms. I love how the leather fringe moves with me, tapping my legs and ass, and when I think back to the property vests I’ve seen so far, I know this element is special. He must have picked it for me.

Creed chuckles. “You know I’m a pervert. Maybe I like it.”

“Maybe, but now that I know, it will be the only thing I can think about. I need to shower. Let’s go home.”

I grab his hand and we leave the canteen as my heart sings. I can’t wait to be alone at home with him even if a part of me wishes for everyone to see the back of my vest.