Page 5 of Satan

I pocketed my phone again, then took off down the highway, heading back for Oregon. I had a long ride ahead of me, but I’d promised Chet I would be home within twenty-four hours, regardless of that time limit being what Hyram made me agree to. I ran by my own book, but for Chet? For my boy? I’dalwaysuphold my promises.

3

Chet

Igrabbed a beer out of the fridge, then nudged it closed with my foot before turning to grab a bag of chips off the counter. When I emerged from the kitchen, Thyrie was sitting at the bar working on her laptop. She looked up and smirked, arching a brow at me.

“When William finds out you’re eating and drinking pure garbage, he’s going to bend you over the nearest surface, drag your britches down, and spank your ass red before he makes you get on your knees and apologize for harming the body he loves so much.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” What I did know though was that William had a habit of finding outeverythingI did. But sue me—I was acting out. I knew he was going to take care of my father so I would be safe from him, but I was still salty that he couldn’t have waited ‘til I had my nap, that I hadn’t heard anything from him since he’dleft except a text letting me know he was coming home and he loved me, and that he’d left me behind at all.

Least he could’ve done was taken me with him and stuck me in a hotel for a few hours. Was I being irrational? Sure. It was my default setting, especially since I’d been made to feel safe and had been given a true home. Buturgh, I got in my feelings so easily when it came to William.

“Oh, he’ll know,” Thyrie said. And just because she liked to stick her nose in other people’s business, she lifted her phone and snapped a photo of me just as I lifted the beer to my lips.

I gaped at her. “What the fuck, Thyrie?” I snapped, setting the beer down on the bar a little too hard. It clacked loudly against the granite countertop, which made Hyram, the obsessed overprotective guy that he was, rush out of his office like someone was strapping a bomb to the love of his life.

Thyrie cackled and showed me her phone, where it showed she’d sent the picture to William. I scowled at her. “You’re such a bitch,” I muttered.

“Watch your mouth around my woman,” Hyram growled, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Tell her to mind her fucking business then,” I sneered at him. “I just wantedonebeer andonesmall bag of chips, and she fucking tattle-taled like a goddamn two-year-old to William.”

Hyram sighed and looked at his old lady. It wasn’t often he scolded her for anything. The woman could probably light this clubhouse on fire, and he’d kiss her instead of shouting at her. But even he knew how William could be. She’d fucking overstepped. “Thyrie…”

She arched a brow at him. “If you try telling me what I can and cannot do, Holt,” she warned, using Hyram’s last name, “I will make you sleep on the couch for a week.”

Hyram opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then shook his head and looked at me. “Just follow the rules William set for you, Chet. It’s not difficult.”

He had to be fucking kidding me.

I wanted to throw something. I felt out of fucking control. I didn’t get my nap after being in subspace for damn near two hours as William wrecked me. I couldn’t just call William because I didn’t know if he was somewhere safe to answer my call. And since I knew he’d answer regardless of if it was safe or not, I couldn’t put him in that predicament. I’d been left behind while he was across the fucking country. And now, I couldn’t even indulge in something that might make me feel a tiny bit better because Thyrie was a little fucking rat.

I loved her most of the time. But other times, like this one, I wanted to yell at her. Maybe throw my unopened bag of chips at her. But that would just piss Hyram off, and he’d punch me in my face. And then, William would promptly lose his shit once he finally got home and possibly hospitalize Hyram.

I wouldn’t be responsible for tensions within the clubhouse.

“Both of you fuck off,” I growled, spinning for the stairs and leaving behind both the beer and the bag of chips. But before I could even take one step, the clubhouse doors opened, and William walked inside, followed by Malachi.

I was always an emotional person. My dad always called me a whiny bitch. Growing up, other kids called me a cry baby. Andthe worst thing was, when I was angry, I was one of those people thatcried.

Which happened as soon as I laid my eyes on William. Tears filled my eyes, and one ran down my cheek. My chin wobbled. I clenched and unclenched my fists at my sides, my chest tightening. That familiar feeling of panic constricted my lungs.

“Baby…” William murmured, striding to me so fast, his curls lifted from his forehead a little. I wanted to run, maybe slam a door in his face, but my feet were rooted to the spot.

As soon as his arms wrapped around me, I fell apart all while I clenched his hoodie in my fists. “I hate you,” I cried.

His hand stroked over my dark hair. “I know, baby,” he soothed. “I’m home now, and I’m going to take care of you.” I sniffled when he lifted me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I clung to him, burying my face in the curve of his neck. He pointed a finger at Thyrie. “He hit a fucking low, and you made it worse. So, thanks for that.”

“Hey—” Hyram started, but William shook his head.

“Don’t, prez,” William growled. “I’ve taught you the fucking signs, and you didn’t see them. I asked you to take care of him, and you failed. Don’t bother us the rest of the day.” With that, he spun for the stairs and tightened his arms around me. “Just breathe, baby. I’ve got you, you hear me? I’m sorry I didn’t stay and take care of you.” He pressed his lips to my temple, holding them there. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

4

William

Chet was a mess. He clearly hadn’t slept if the dark bags beneath his eyes were anything to go by. And his emotions were out of control, which usually only happened when he hit sub drop. I wasalwaysaround to help him after a scene, and this time, I’d failed him. That was on me. I should have been patient. Should have told Hyram I needed to hold off on taking out Reynold until Chet was okay. But I’d been too worried about whether the Savage Dreams MC and Chet’s father would make a move before I could. It was a chance I hadn’t been willing to take.