Page 12 of Unmasked Anarchy (Fallen Sons MC #3)

He nods at the bar girls, and they giggle, pouring him a drink without him saying a single word. He has probably slept with every woman in this bar. I scrunch my nose at the thought, hating the little sting of jealousy that washes through me.

I’m married.

He’s single.

End of story.

He pops a peanut from a little glass bowl, chews it with lazy focus, and watches me the whole time. The weight of his stare prickles my skin. He grins. “What’s your poison today? Let me guess, something brown, cheap, and mean as hell?”

I bite my bottom lip with a smile. “And straight. No need for ice.”

He waves the bartender down and orders another round, then leans in close enough that I catch the faint hint of his cologne, something expensive and out of place here. “You always drink this way when you’re alone?” he asks, voice so low and husky I have to take a deep breath to calm myself down.

I laugh. “I never drink alone; I just haven’t met the right company until now.” I look up and see him watching my mouth, his focus intense. My cheeks burn, but I don’t look away.

“Why do you always look like you’re planning a crime?”

He shrugs. “Why do you always look like you just got away with one?”

That makes me laugh, the sound a little louder than I want, but it feels good. “Cute,” I say, drawing the word out until it lingers between us, dipping into the empty space and coiling there. “But maybe I did ...”

He smirks.

We don’t talk about the clubs, or Gage, or guns, or anything that would sour the taste of this almost illicit little mid-afternoon.

Instead, Kael tells me he played baseball once, until he shattered his knee in a fight, and that he can’t stand the taste of strawberries because he ate a hundred of them just to impress a girl in kindergarten and then puked everywhere.

He is so easy to talk to.

The conversation is effortless.

We finish the whiskey and switch to shitty beer, which makes the world float a little, and I can’t help but let myself drift into the banter.

It’s dangerous. Stupid, even. But in this lighting, at this bar, I can almost believe I am someone else.

Someone who isn’t married to another biker.

Someone who could just say fuck it and take this man into the bathroom, letting him fuck me senseless.

A song comes on, something old and classic, and Kael says, “Dance with me.” It isn’t a question. There’s no room for protest, and maybe that’s what I like about it.

I shouldn’t.

I know it.

But I do.

I take his hand and follow him to the dance floor where there are a surprising amount of people actually dancing.

There’s no way he should be good at this, but the bastard is.

He’s light on his feet, and his movements are effortless.

He spins me, just once, and the room spins a little.

Kael notices, eases the pace, brings it back to a gentle two-step where his hands rest carefully on my hips and his eyes don’t let me go.

I can feel every head in that booth by the door tracking us. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except the way his fingers splay at my lower back, the way his breath is warm against my cheek, and the way we don’t step on each other’s feet even once.

The song ends. He doesn’t let go right away, instead he holds me flush against his body, his eyes locked on mine.

“You’re trouble,” I say quietly.

He grins, dark and edgy. “So are you, darlin’. Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

I need to stop this before I cave and put my lips on this man.

“I need to pee,” I whisper, releasing him.

I go to the bathroom to try and sober up. I splash water on my face, but it does nothing to stop my head spinning. I want to stay in here, let the world slow down so I don’t have to make a decision, but the dull sounds of the bar and the clink of ice in glasses calls me back out anyway.

There’s a glass of water where my whiskey glass was when I return. I stare at it, then back at Kael.

“Drink it.”

I take it, tucking my hair behind my ear. He waits until I’ve had two sips before he speaks. “You know you can crash at my place, if you want. Just sleep it off. You don’t even have to talk to me.” But his eyes say there’s a lot more he’d like than just talking.

God damn him.

He’s playing a wicked game.

I know I shouldn’t, but I have nowhere else to go. I’m drunk and can’t drive like this.

At the very least, I will wait a few hours there before driving home.

At least that’s what I tell myself when I nod at him.

What we are doing is dangerous, but as I follow him into the dark, the orange city lights blurring above, I know I’m not going to stop chasing that feeling until I burn my entire world to the ground.

~*~*~*~*~

W HEN WE ARRIVE BACK at the Sons’ clubhouse, it is in full swing.

There are men and women everywhere, a fire crackling in the middle of the lot, music playing and laughter rolling through the evening.

I can’t help but feel an ache in my chest, because on nights like these back home, I feel like the club I have been part of for so many years, is family.

Then reality smacks me in the face, because I’m not important to them.

I don’t matter like I should.

The fact that Gage hasn’t once spoken about the people who attacked me, or finding them, tells me everything I need to know about where I stand.

“Ohhh, you brought her back!”

A gorgeous woman with dark red hair and striking green eyes rushes over to Kael and me, skidding to a stop before jumping up and down, clapping her hands together. I can’t help but smile. Her energy is addictive and I don’t even know her name.

“Mera, this is Sable. Sable, Mera. She is Wolfe’s old lady and a pain in my fuckin’ ass.”

Mera pokes her tongue out at Kael before reaching for me and pulling me into her arms as if we’ve been friends forever. I laugh, the alcohol still humming through my body and making me feel light.

I like her instantly.

She spins me around then loops an arm through mine and starts toward the fire, dragging me with zero resistance. “Come on,” she sings out, “you need food or beer or both, and definitely not Kael right now because he’s far too busy checking you out to pay attention.”

I flush, not looking back.

She finds me a drink and a burger, and then we sit down beside the fire.

“Kael’s been talking about you a lot, man is obsessed.

” She grins, turning toward me like it’s nothing.

I almost lose it, choking a little on the meat.

She laughs and hands me a napkin just as another woman appears at my shoulder.

She is gorgeous, with strawberry-blond hair and dazzling blue eyes.

She’s only a tiny thing, but her beauty is absolutely spectacular.

“Is this her?” the new girl asks, planting her bottom beside me on the log.

“This is Sable.” Mera smiles. “Sable, this is Nia. The only other old lady you need to worry about.”

I laugh. “Good to know.”

“I gotta know,” Nia continues, “how are you healing? After what happened ...”

My hand slides under my shirt, almost subconsciously. “I’m healing, but the scar left behind isn’t exactly going to put me on the cover of vogue.”

Mera giggles. “Scars are sexy.”

Nia nods in agreement. “Kael said you crawled out of a ditch yourself. That’s badass.”

I chuckle, taking another bite of my burger.

“Can we see the scar?” Mera whispers, leaning in close.

I study the two of them, watching me with curious expressions.

I shrug and lift my shirt, showing them.

“Holy shit!” Mera gasps. “Damn, girl, they really tried to cut you in half.”

That’s one way of putting it.

“You’re a total badass now.” Nia gasps. “That is epic.”

I laugh. “Thanks.”

“So, you and Kael ...”

Mera’s brows wiggle, and I roll my eyes. “I’m married.”

“Wait, what?” Mera gasps. “No ...”

“Yep, and it gets worse. He’s the president of a different MC.”

Both girls gasp.

“Well shit, this sounds like something out of a book or movie. I need to know more, tell me everything,” Nia says, scooting closer.

So, I tell them everything. Literally.

We talk with ease, the conversation coming so effortlessly it feels as though I have known them for a lifetime. We’re only interrupted when Kael comes over with another biker by his side. The man standing next to him is gorgeous, and I have to wonder where they are plucking these bikers from.

This guy has a dark brown mass of hair tied atop his head with the underneath shaved.

His face is shadowed by a dark beard, and he has the brownest eyes, like a warm chocolate.

The slit through his eyebrow makes him look badass, but when he flashes me a smile, I can see he’s probably not as scary as he looks.

“Sable, this is Rogue. Rogue, Sable.” Kael waves a hand between us. “You can call him Zane, it’ll piss him off.”

Zane shoots a glare in Kael’s direction.

I smile. “Nice to meet you, Rogue.”

Kael shoots me a look, and I throw a grin back.

“Walk with me,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning over me in that way they do, making my skin prickle.

“She’s married, Kael, stop looking at her like that,” Mera scoffs, a smile behind her words.

“Know that. Mind your business, woman.”

She flips him the bird.

I laugh and stand, following Kael away from the fire.

“Let me guess, those girls got everything out of you in the span of an hour,” he murmurs as we walk.

“They’re like mini detectives.” I laugh. “But I like them.”

Kael grunts. “Yeah, sadly, I do too.”

I giggle.

Kael keeps his body close as we move farther away from the party. We don’t talk for a while, and the ground crunches under us. I want to break the silence, but I don’t want to break whatever is hanging between us either, delicate and crackling and almost alive.

“So,” he says finally, jerking his chin toward a battered picnic table under the eaves of the sheds. “Your old man goin’ to throw down when you don’t come home?”

We sit down at the bench.

I shrug and scoot closer to him, our knees touching, which sends a shot of something cold and electric up my thigh. He’s close enough I can smell him and feel the warmth from his body.

“Probably, but I don’t care.”

We go quiet again, but it’s not the awkward kind.

“You know he’ll probably kill me for talkin’ to you.”

He says it in a way that makes it seem like he’s completely unbothered by it.

“Or me,” I point out.

“Maybe we need to be the ones to shoot first,” he teases.

He leans his body in, just enough to push me off balance, making it look like a joke, but his hand steadies me at the waist and stays there. His thumb does a slow drag across the scar, right through my shirt. I suck in a breath, unable to pull away, to say anything, to even move.

I want to be smooth, to make a joke, but nothing comes out, so I just stare at him, daring him to let go. He doesn’t. Instead, he leans in so our lips nearly touch, and his breath ghosts over my skin, hot and completely unfair.

“Kael,” I whisper, almost begging him to stop and yet, at the same time, begging him to go on.

“Gotta taste you, darlin’. Just once.”

God dammit.

I’m the one who moves first, or maybe he does, but either way, our mouths crash together like nobody is watching and nothing we are doing is wrong. His hands are everywhere, my face, my back, tangled in my hair and pulling like he just can’t get me close enough.

I don't think. I don't stop. His tongue is rough and possessive and it tastes like the kind of trouble you don't recover from. My moans against his lips do nothing to slow him down, and I can’t seem to stop myself from pressing my body against his, as close as I can get, feeling every hard ridge of his body against mine.

I need to stop this.

It is wrong.

I pull back, quickly, nearly falling off the seat.

“I can’t,” I whisper, my stomach twisting. “I’m not ... this isn’t me.”

He opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by the sound of gunfire.

We both freeze, but only for a second. Kael moves fast, pulling me down to the ground behind the table as another shot cracks the peace apart. We land hard, tangled, breathless.

“Stay down,” Kael growls, looking over the table’s edge. More shots, someone screaming in the distance. The fire at the heart of the club is chaos, shadows running everywhere.

My whole body is pumping with adrenaline. Kael tugs me up, and we crouch-run for the nearest concrete wall, bullets whining somewhere behind us. My ears ring. My heart thuds angrily against my chest.

“Someone is shootin’ at the club.”

My heart skips a beat.

Then I hear the scream.

Female.

Kael grabs me when the gunfire stops and pulls me toward the sheds, and that’s when we notice two men at the front gates, holding Mera, a gun pressed to her temple. My stomach twists as I stare at the scene before me, the men all standing, Wolfe’s face twisted with rage, nobody moving.

“You fuckin’ move and I blow her brains out,” the man roars.

Kael’s grip on my arm tightens. “Fuck,” he breathes, low.

“Get all your men out here,” the second man bellows. “I want to see every fuckin’ club member or she dies.”

Wolfe, fists clenched by his sides, barks, “Everyone out here. Find them all. Now.”

“I gotta go,” Kael hisses. “Fuck.”

I turn to him, my heart racing, but I know what I have to do. “I don’t. I know you don’t know me, but do you trust me?”

His eyes scan my face. “Yeah.”

“Then I need a gun.”

He reaches around behind him, no hesitation, and hands me his gun. I shake my head. “No. I need a bigger gun. A rifle.”

“Kael,” Wolfe roars. “Out here.”

Kael looks stressed, his face tight.

“I know you have guns, Kael. Give me one.”

“Fuck,” he barks, then turns and disappears into the shed.

He returns a few minutes later with a rifle, handing it to me. “I gotta go. I don’t know what you’re plannin’, but fuck, be careful.”

He curls his hand around the back of my neck, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then he’s gone.

Now, it’s up to me to fix this.

And fix it, I will.