Page 22 of Tortured Souls

Wait, I have work. What did he mean he has it taken care of? I stand and rush to the exit, trying to see if I can catch him before he leaves, but when I exit the café, I see his motorcycle take off down the road. I need to get to the club to figure this out.

Jumping in my car, I race back to the club, pulling into the parking lot. Before I get out and try to find my manager, I can’thelp the smile that pulls at my lips. I’ve never been on an official date before. My stomach has this weird, unfamiliar feeling going on right now. I don’t know if I need to throw up, lie down, or drink water. It’s not a bad sensation, per se, but it’s definitely unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and it makes me smile even bigger.

I’m going on a date with Saxon Wilder, and I’m actually excited. To think we once hated each other. I chuckle to myself thinking back on all the times I wanted to kill him, knowing he too would have happily wrung my neck for my smartass remarks. Two years is a long time to build a relationship, good or bad. From where ours started to wherever the fuck its going now, I wouldn’t believe someone if they told me I was going on a date withtheSaxon Wilder, but here we are.

TWO YEARS AGO

SAXON

Skylar. That’s her name. She currently lives in the apartment above Capital Vice, and she drives a red 2019 Mazda. She’s also fast becoming my living, breathing nightmare. When Vance introduced us last night at the club, I immediately got to work. No Hellstorm shows up in my town over night without me knowing every single fucking detail about them. That’s why I’mhere at Vice right now. Two hours before opening. I need to speak with her again. I need to hear from her that she is, in fact, Skylar Sagan. Sergio Sagan’s daughter. My enemy.

I walk into the club; the door is unlocked for anyone to waltz in here. Red flag number one. Who is she leaving the door unlocked for? Another club member, perhaps? I spot her immediately, behind the bar upstairs, wiping down the countertop with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. I make a beeline for her, walking up the spiral staircase as the bouncers give me a quick nod as they lounge in one of the booths downstairs. They know me. Hell, everyone knows me.

As soon as I reach the top of the stairs, she spots me, her arm stopping its movement when she locks eyes with me. Now, anyone else would show even a sliver of fear from me looking at them. Not her though. She almost looks annoyed at seeing me here.That’s right, baby. This is my town. Get used to seeing me.I waste no time. I walk up to the bar and pull out a barstool, making myself comfortable as I continue to hold her glare.

“The club is not open for another two hours,” she drawls, her voice sounding every bit as annoyed and irritated that I’m here. I’ll give her some time; she’ll understand soon enough that I’m not one to piss off.

“What are you doing here, Skylar?” I get right to the point.

“Clearly, I’m working. Or is that a concept you’re not familiar with? Daddy’s money, I presume?” The nerve of this little siren. I’ll give her a pass this time, but no one brings up my father—or anyone in my family, for that matter.

“I’d like to give a fair warning since you’re new here. I’m Saxon Wilder, but you already know that. I own this fucking town, and everyone in it. It will be in your best interest to show some respect. That is, if you want any in return. Now, answer my fucking question. Why are you here?” I’m fast becoming irate, her attitude winning her no points of approval. She stepsback from the bar, crossing her arms in front of her, giving me another one of her scowls. She’s not scared, and that only heightens my frustration towards her.

“Listen, Saxon. I’m here to make a life for myself. I’m working and staying away from any and all business involving club members, including you. It may be hard to believe, but I mean no one harm, nor do I have an attachment to my father and his crew. Believe me or not, I’m here for me and me only. Is that what you want to know?” Popping her hip to the side, I take in her posture as I try to read her the best I can.

I don’t believe her. I’d be a fool to believe her little spiel. She can’t possibly believe that I would take her for her word. My father raised me better, smarter, and I’ll be damned if this woman plans to come here and put my club in danger.

“I don’t believe you. But that’s okay, for now. I’ll be keeping tabs on you, Sky. You’d be wise to rethink your motives for why you’re here, because I can promise you this—if you’re lying, and I will find out sooner or later, I will put an end to your sorry existence. Yours and your father’s fucking club.”

“I’ll do you one better; I’ll give you the match that sets my father and his club ablaze. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work soon and need to get this place ready.” She gives me her back, busying herself around the bar. The balls of this woman.

I jump the counter. My boots stomping on the ground grab her attention as she spins around so we’re face-to-face.

“Listen here, Skylar. I don’t appreciate your attitude or the sheer idiocy of your behavior.” I crowd her space, forcing her to take slow steps back. I follow each step she takes, our chests practically touching. “I’m a very patient man. You’ll slip up eventually, and I’ll be there to pick you up by your hair and drag you back to the hole you came from. Tell me now, or tell me later, the consequences will just continue to worsen.” She places her hands on my chest, pushing ever so slightly. Unluckily for her,I’m not a weak man. I continue to crowd her until her back hits the end of the bar.

“Listen, Saxon. It may seem hard to believe, but I’m not here to cause trouble. I don’t know how to prove that to you other than by keeping my word. Keep tabs on me all you want. You won’t find me contacting or communicating with my father in any way, shape, or form. I know it’s shocking that some people hate their families—not everyone is as lucky as you to have had a loving parent.”

“Had. Had loving parents. Plural.” I scoff.

“May they rest in peace. Now, if you’ll please let me get back to work. I can’t lose this job before I even start.” We stare at each other for a long moment. Her eyes never leave mine. I scan her face for any sign of deception, but there’s nothing. No shifty eyes, no pursing of her lips, or crinkle of her brow. Her face is blank, and dare I say, hypnotizing, with those caramel eyes. I take a deep breath, inhaling her vanilla and amber scent before I back up one step.

“Have a good shift, Sky. I’ll be seeing you.” I turn and leave her standing there. This infuriating woman who I want nothing more than to send her back where she came from. But against my better judgment, I fear I may believe her story. I don’t want to; my gut tells me not to. However, there’s a strange sensation in my chest. It feels almost like anxiety, but not entirely. Worry? Concern? Am I worried she will hurt my family, the club? Of course, she’s the enemy, but could this woman actually do such a thing? I mean, her body alone wouldn’t be able to take a grown man. She’s all of 5’3” maybe 5’4” and weighs one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. I never like to judge a book by its cover, but the writing is on the wall here. She’s no match for me or anyone else in the club. It seems as though her father sent her into the lion’s den. That is, if he sent her at all. Maybe she is fleeing, running from a life she can no longer stand. Fuck, myhead is starting to hurt. Swinging my leg over my bike, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to Finn to get me some security cameras for Vice. I need to have eyes on her at all times. If she thought my threat of keeping tabs on her was a lie or simply a threat, she has no idea who I really am. I will always be two steps ahead of her. Always.

ONE YEAR AGO

SKYLAR

You know that feeling when you’re at a barbeque and there’s a fly constantly buzzing beside your ear being the absolute fucking pest it was created to be? Well, that’s what Saxon Wilder is to me at this exact moment. The worst kind of insect—or rather, parasite—who’s latched his feelers onto me and won’t ever give me a moment of peace. I guess he wasn’t lying when he said hewas going to keep tabs on me, because here we are, a year later, and he’s still in my fucking business twenty-four seven. Lucky me. I’m working, so I have to be on my best behavior since he’s the customer and all.

“What is it you’d like today, Saxon? My resume, my Social Security number, my first-born child when they inevitably arrive on this planet? What do you want now?”

“As if I needed toaskyou for any of that information.” He smirks at me, his signature fucking smirk that has started to birth butterflies in my gut whenever he graces me with it. I clear my throat to hopefully eliminate said butterflies but to my unfortunate luck, or lack there-of, they remain growing at an exponential rate.

“Seriously, Saxon, what do you want? I’m kind of busy.” Rolling my eyes, I grab a beer from beneath the bar, crack open the top, and slide it to a gentleman who gives me a nod of appreciation. I’m a damn good bartender and have become even better at reading people. Like right now, Saxon doesn’t have anything he needs from me. He’s just here to annoy me with his presence and assert his dominance in this town. As if I could forget.

“Who said I needed anything? Maybe I’m just here as a paying customer who is waiting for his bartender to stop being so snappy so I can order a beer.” Before he can say another word, I grab a Corona, pop the cap, and set the beer down in front of him.

“What if I don’t want a Corona today?” He’s clearly fucking with me now; this is all he drinks. I know because I’m always his bartender. I have been for the past year. I’ve yet to see him order anything other than a Corona—from a bottle, if I’m being specific. I give him the biggest fake smile I can muster.