Page 35

Dante

“I'm telling you, mate,” Vienna said with a small laugh. “I stood right there when the old broad said it. Killed a man, she said.”

“I still don’t believe it. Rachel?” I laughed back incredulously, taking my seat at the poker table. “Blonde haired, green eyed, five foot tall, Rachel? The one who looks like painting her nails is hard work? That Rachel?”

“That's what she said. And,” he said, pausing to drink out of his bottle. “Rachel didn't deny it either.” He finished, pointing the bottle in my direction. “In fact, she said she regretted that the autopsy didn’t say beheaded. Seemed quite upset about that.”

“Fuck off,” I laughed again. “You’ve either misunderstood or they were joking.”

“I heard it clear as day, so I definitely didn’t misunderstand, and they didn’t look as though they were joking. The mum said Rachel got her dad locked up for it.”

“She's got a temper on her. I'll give her that. But a murderer? Pull the other one.”

“I'm just saying what I heard, that's all,” he shrugged at me.

“I mean, I can hardly condemn her for it, considering the shit I've done. But I don't believe it.”

“Believe it or not, condemn her or not, it makes no difference to me. The only thing on my mind is there's a woman in that house who we know nothing about, left alone with your daughter… a woman who may very well have killed in cold blood. Just food for thought.”

“She wouldn't hurt Bee.” I waved away his concerns.

“You also thought she was sweet and innocent. And then she opened her mouth. I’m going to repeat this again, and I want all you fuckers to pay attention: those quiet ones are dangerous. ”

“You must be a newborn kitten then, Ven! Least dangerous man ever because I’ve never heard you fucking quiet!” Hacksaw shouted over, earning him the middle finger from Vienna.

“She's far from fucking quiet,” I laughed again. “She's a set of pipes on her to rival Big Mama, and that's saying something!”

Still, though, I did pull out my phone and fired off a quick text to my mum to keep Bee in her sights for tonight.

She was angry with me, but she’d do anything to keep her grandchild safe.

I had stopped in to see Bee before I came here, just like I promised I would, and she was excited about the thought of spending more time with Rachel.

She was a bright child and completely understood that I was busier than usual today, helping her settle in.

Since I was on my phone anyway, and since Rachel was on my mind, I did happen to have a little check for any new messages. I wasn't obsessively checking or anything. I needed to use the phone, anyway.

Oh, who the fuck are you kidding?

I'd been waiting all evening for Rachel to send me a message. Even spewing venom - which seemed to be her speciality - would have been preferable to the complete silent treatment. I fucking hated her silence.

Yet every time I thought of her sat there in stubborn quietness, that blank look on her face – the blank look I had once thought I hated – it made me harder than fucking steel.

Sometimes I didn’t know which I preferred.

The blankness trying to challenge me to get a reaction, or the fiery storm that set us both ablaze.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to go and confront her, to demand a reaction from her. And it annoyed me that deep down, the real reason was because I wanted her attention.

She was fast becoming the object of my every waking thought. Not five minutes would pass where I didn't think about her, about what she was doing, what she was thinking, what she was wearing.

She was like a poison, working its way through my body. Even thinking about her had my body humming, electric stinging in my veins, a silent wind at my back pushing me towards her.

Being in her company was torture. Every animal instinct I possessed told me to grab hold of her and take her, to sink my cock into her over and over. I wanted to drag her off by her hair, to hide her in a cave and keep her as my own forever.

I had never had to worry about attention from women before.

They were all over me from the moment my balls dropped and my voice broke.

They quickly became more of a nuisance than anything else once the novelty wore off.

They were a means to an end. An extremely satisfactory means, but they weren’t something I craved in my life.

Because you’ve never had to crave it, I thought to myself.

That much was definitely true.

My mother used to lose her shit with me with all the women I had in and out of my bedroom in my teenage years. She had once walked in on me and Vienna with this one girl- Vienna balls deep in her pussy; me balls deep down her throat and had all but beat us black and blue.

But Rachel wasn't like that. Rachel was something I craved, because she was making me earn every interaction with her. If I wanted her angry, I had to work for it. If I wanted her horny, I had to push the right buttons. Otherwise, it was that damning blank stare she had perfected. Every emotion in her body was like a reward for me, especially now I knew how easy it was for her to hide what she was thinking. I thought back to when she first arrived and hadn’t so much as flinched or shown a flicker of fear.

That took some serious self-control. So, for her to lose it with me – whether it be in anger, laughter, or anything else, was a serious turn on for me. As fucked up as that sounded.

I was becoming obsessed, and for every tiny growth in my obsession for her, she seemed to add another block to her hatred tower for me.

It made me want to both fuck her and kill her.

The bored, almost dismissive look on her beautiful face was burned in my memory. I fucking hated that expression. But I had still had it on my mind as I jerked my cock last night, cumming harder than I ever had as I imagined finishing all over that fucking annoying face.

She was toxic for me, and I knew I was already in far too deep to walk away.

She was my Achilles heel, and I hated myself for discovering that I had one, when I had always thought myself immune.

She would be either my greatest victory, or the death of me. There was no in-between. I wouldn't settle for less. I would have all of her, or I would have nothing. But if I couldn't have her, I'd be damned if anyone else could either.

Every time I thought about pulling away from her, sending her on a plane back to where she came from, my mind screamed in protest. My entire body rejected the possibility of this woman not being a part of my life, despite the fact I had no knowledge of her existence a mere few days ago.

“You in or out, Dante?” Shark asked. He’d been with us a few years now and had never caused any issues.

We started inviting him to poker night around a year ago, and he quickly became the host of all our nights.

The man rode a bike like a nasty bastard, but fuck me if he didn’t make a nice charcuterie board – hence the nickname Shark, a short version of charcuterie.

“Throw me another slice of cheese and I’m in.

I’m ready to win a couple hundred quid.” I grinned at them, putting my phone back in my pocket.

I had three bikers outside each entrance of the clubhouse, so Rachel wasn’t getting out anytime soon.

I could settle for knowing she was in her room.

If she wanted to do that in a sulking silence, then more fool her.

Three hours later, and a couple thousand pounds thrown across the table, we were all feeling more than a little drunk, and getting bolder with our bets. Macbeth had thrown Crash’s prized watch into the mix – which he promptly lost.

To me.

It was now taking pride of place on my wrist, and I took great pleasure in twirling it under the light every time I moved my deck of cards.

He was silently fuming, but that was Macbeth all over.

He knew there would be hell to pay with not only Crash, but Big Mama when they realised he had all but pawned the watch they had given him for his fortieth birthday last year.

Mother had given Crash the watch on their wedding day, and it was going to be a tradition that it went to the first-born son of the first-born son.

And now I had it, I thought with a sly grin.

“Hey, Macbeth,” I said, shuffling the cards for my deal. “You got your head on this time, or you ready to part with something else?”

“Go fuck yourself,” he snapped back.

“I’ve a woman at home for that – have you?”

Vienna visibly winced, but quickly recovered himself.

Macbeth’s relationships had always been a sore topic for the club.

He found his women by bragging about the club and how he was the firstborn.

They latched on to the power he promised.

And then they realised that I held all the power.

It was inevitable they turned to me. I’ve never touched any of them, but it didn’t stop the last one moaning my name when she was underneath him.

“A woman that can’t stand you. Something worth bragging about, that is,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Eh, she’s playing hard to get. I’ll tell you what is worth bragging about.

” I grinned again, unable to resist the urge to poke to bear.

“This might fine watch I’ve earned myself.

Tell me, do you like losing all your valuables to me, or is it just some perverse kink at this point?

There’s the club, the women, the bikes, the watch… you’re getting quite the rap sheet.”

“Say that again,” he hissed, standing up so quickly his chair fell over behind him. My eyes followed the chair before I eyed him up and down.

“Sit down, boy. You’re embarrassing yourself. We’re all friends here.”

“You’re not a fucking friend,” he spat back. Vienna placed a warning hand on his shoulder as he came to sit at the table, having left to grab another round of beers from Shark’s fridge.