Page 130 of Tracking Luxe
“How about never? Never sounds a good time, you arrogant blowhard.”
And Grinder, despite the pain he was in, began to laugh as anger filled Grigori’s face.
A beaten man had to take his pleasures where he could.
He didn’t see the fist coming at him, but he sure as fuck felt it.
CHAPTER FORTY
“He signed the club over to the mob for me. There’s not enough beer in the world to wash that down with.” - Grinder.
Hours went by.
She hated every damn, long second.
Nothing stopped the feeling of dread she had in her belly.
Far as she could tell nothing was being done and she was raging about it inside.
The drink had gone untouched, so had the plate of crackers and cheese Jed had brought her an hour ago. And she'd waved off concern from a guy called The Butcher who wanted to check her out. He looked as far removed from a doctor as it could be.
Her only show of anything was when Jamie and his VP strode through the doors of Rider's MC. Both of her brows popped up into her hair and she had the inexplicable urge to run to him and bawl her eyes out. Finally, she saw someone who didn't hate her. Finally, someone who might help her.
His feet stopped tracking behind Preacher as he spotted her.
"Hold up while I check on my girl."
"Yourgirl?" warned Preacher and Jamie arched a brow at him. God, men. She belonged to no one, least of all an MC.
I belong to Nathan.Yeah, she did.
"She's more mine than she is yours," Jamie went down on his haunches by the sofa in front of Luxe, blue eyes so dark in color probed hers. "How you doing, pocket-rocket? You look like bloodied crap. You should have called me." His voice held reprimand.
"Thanks. And do you have to antagonize them like that? this isn't the time."
He smirked. "It's fun. You didn't answer, you okay, babe?"
"Gee, dad, I'm fine. I just watched my boyfriend chained and beaten unconscious, and I ran like 100 miles in crappy shoes, and every man here hates my guts, and no one will tell me anything, but apart from that I'm doing swell."
Rather than take offense at her sarcasm Jamie smiled and cupped her cheek before kissing her forehead. "Good. You want me to leave Amos here with you?" Luxe snorted at that, the other guy made a similar protesting noise as well. It was well known Jamie's best friend and second in command and she did not rub along together well. "No, I'm fine. Are you here to help?"
"Naturally. Kingsmen to the rescue. Keep that chin up. They smell fear in this place." He winked and got back to his feet.
she saw Preacher scowling watching their exchange.
Jamie noticed it as well and by the stiffening of his shoulders he didn't like it. "You want to rein in the animosity towards her, brother in law? I don't think Ruby would like us grappling on the floor. She," he pointed at Luxe. "is your boy's old lady. Give her the damn respect it deserves."
And with that he paced away. Preacher followed calling him a dumbshit. They were odd brother in laws. She wondered what Sunday dinners were like at his house.Pass the ketchup, fuck-face.
Sighing. All she could do was wait. The fractures in her veneer were slight, if anyone took the time to notice. But she was holding on. Remembering what Nathan had told her, he'd swore she'd see him again.
Luxe had never felt more alone, more useless before.
But she still held herself together, tied delicately with hope.
******
Around the six hours mark the men caught a break. At fucking last, Rider heaved a breath. He'd just got done checking on his Zara, shoving his phone away when Lawless gave him the good news, there was someone in the shed out back. The deluxe sheet iron slaughter house the club used for special occasions such as torturing, maiming and murder. It was Hawk's favorite place.
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