Page 39 of Wild Night (Vicious Reapers MC #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

POSEY

The moment I pull the car up to the entrance of the clubhouse, I slam on the brakes.

One of the guys was nice enough to bring my car from the house to the hospital so I could drive Justin home.

Since I still have no clue where anything is in this town, I trusted him to give me the right directions home.

He did not.

He gave me directions to the clubhouse, and I didn’t know better.

What I should have fucking done was put his address into my GPS.

Now I’m sitting at a closed entrance gate, gripping the steering wheel of my car so tightly that I have to wonder if it’s going to break apart beneath my hands.

I’m not strong enough in any capacity, so it won’t, but if I were, I would shatter it right now.

The gate slowly opens. I’m sure whoever is running it recognizes my car, but I’m so fuming mad, I don’t even care.

“Princess,” Justin calls out.

“I cannot believe you made me drive you here,” I grind out. He chuckles softly, finding this humorous, which only pisses me off even more. “This isn’t funny,” I snap.

Driving forward, against my better judgment, I move the car down the dirt and gravel road on my way to the cement-style building that I know is the main clubhouse. There are bikes parked everywhere, and even a few cars.

Before I am in the actual parking area, Justin reaches out, wraps his fingers around my forearm, and squeezes gently. I want to slap his hand away. But as I press my foot on the brake, stop the car and turn to face him, I can’t do anything that might hurt him.

“The club is on lockdown, which means everyone stays at the clubhouse out of an abundance of caution. I’ve sent my parents on vacation for the same reason. I don’t know if whoever this is has set up something in my house. And I can’t have you there and risk either of you being hurt.”

Either of us.

Me and the baby.

That thought should not make me smile, but it does. I grin at the mention of our new life. His hand leaves my arm, and then I feel the warmth of his palm press against my belly.

“I’m serious, Posey. If I caused harm to either of you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. It’s bad enough that I almost killed three of my best friends.”

“ You didn’t almost kill them.”

His hand falls away from my stomach, and he places it in his lap. “I know I didn’t do it, but at the same time, I did very much do it.”

That is that. This conversation is dropped. His focus is straight ahead and nowhere else. I don’t say anything else. I can sense that this is a topic of conversation he’s not ready to delve into any further.

Justin is smart. He knows he didn’t do anything, but that doesn’t take away the guilt. Guiding my car into a parking spot, I turn the engine off and then face him. Thankfully, he doesn’t make a move to exit or anything. He faces me, his eyes on mine.

“You’re here for your safety, Posey. I need to know that you’re safe while we work on figuring out who the fuck did this shit.”

I cup his cheek. “I’m worried about your recovery,” I whisper.

He raises his good arm, wrapping his fingers around my wrist before he turns his head slightly and places a kiss on the center of my palm. My eyes slide closed, and I let out a whimper. I mean, it’s hot as shit—beyond hot.

I feel his lips smile against my skin, then the warmth of his soft lips is gone, and I open my eyes to see him watching me. Staring at me, smiling at me. Somehow, my irritation completely melts away and is replaced with desire. His nostrils flare, and I know he senses the shift around us.

“Princess, I have to talk to everyone and see where they stand. Then you can fuck me.”

“Justin,” I hiss, my cheeks heating from his words.

He lets out a small laugh. “I can practically taste how badly you want me, Posey. Which is a good thing because I want you just as fucking badly, if not more.”

I bite the corner of my bottom lip as my gaze flicks from his to the door of the clubhouse, then back to his. His lips twitch into a smirk, and he shakes his head before he speaks.

“You climb on my cock right here, someone is going to come out of that building and watch, maybe even gather a crowd. They won’t be embarrassed or ashamed in the slightest for watching.”

My eyes widen at his words, and my breath quickens. I would be embarrassed, not ashamed, because I’m in a relationship with the man I love, but I would seriously be embarrassed if any of those guys watched me having sex with him.

“Maybe I can wait,” I mutter.

He laughs softly. “Yeah, princess, maybe we can wait.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to hurt yourself, stressing and working to the point where you land yourself back in that hospital bed. I could live my whole life without seeing you in there again.”

And that’s the truth of it. Seeing him in that bed, his arm in a cast, while pacing that waiting room and waiting to find out if he’d ever meet our baby or not. Wondering if I’d ever get to kiss him again. It almost did me in. I can’t go through it ever again.

Justin lifts his hand, and when I feel his thumb swipe beneath my eye, I realize he’s wiping tears away. I didn’t realize I’d been crying. He leans forward and presses his lips against my forehead. I close my eyes.

God.

Forehead kisses.

So good.

“Okay, Posey. I won’t work too hard, I promise. Just desk work.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

Ideally, I don’t want him to work at all, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m definitely the beggar here, at least in this situation. Right now, I feel like I’m going to be begging big-time—huge.

IVY

When we walk into the clubhouse, the room erupts into cheers. There are men and women everywhere. I’m not used to it being so full of people unless there’s an actual party. And since we’re on fucking lockdown, this is just our crew right now.

Dakota rushes toward Posey and wraps her arms around her. Only then do I release my grasp on her hand. I watch as Posey wraps her arms around Dakota, and then Bullet appears.

“Glad to have you back,” he murmurs.

“Did you get Posey’s things?” I ask.

His lips twitch, and he tilts his head to the side. “Dakota got it all. Everything she could think of to get. Which was her whole fucking bag, since she didn’t unpack anything yet.”

“Good,” I murmur.

Bullet jerks his chin. “My office,” he mutters.

He turns and walks to the hallway and down toward his office. Turning to Dakota and Posey, I reach out and touch Posey on the shoulder. Her head whips around, and her eyes fly to me. She’s got a panicked expression on her face.

Smiling, I tilt my chin to the side before I tell her that I need to head to Bullet’s office. She gives me a smile, her gaze searching mine for a moment. I don’t know if she’s trying to gauge how I’m feeling or not. Instead of turning back to Dakota, she slides her hand around the side of my neck.

“Okay,” she exhales.

Letting out a breath, I lean forward and touch my mouth to hers. “Be a good girl,” I murmur against her mouth.

“I make no promises,” she breathes.

I nip her bottom lip with my teeth, my cock pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Then I take a step backward, reach down, and adjust my aching cock. My eyes are focused on hers as I look down at her.

“You better fucking be good, princess.”

Her gaze searches mine for a moment, then she shakes her head once. “I’m the best, Justin,” she says.

“You’re fuckin’ trouble is what you are.”

She laughs softly before she speaks. “Yeah, I am. Your trouble.”

Fuck yeah, she’s my trouble. And I’m going to keep her—always.

A few moments later, after I’ve forced myself to walk away from her, I head straight to the office and sink down in the first chair I find. Letting out a groan, I try to keep from showing them how much goddamn pain I’m in, but fuck am I in it.

“What do we know?” I demand when nobody speaks.

Bullet clears his throat, but it’s Piggy who talks first. I’m surprised he’s here. I didn’t notice him when I walked into the room, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m in pain and fucking exhausted. Maybe Posey was right. I should probably be in bed resting.

“What we know is still a bunch of nothing. The nurse wasn’t a nurse. The car was old and gold. Which would be funny because it rhymed, but honest to fuck, these people are too good at hiding.”

This is all on me, and it’s killing me that I can’t find the fucking answer. It should be easy enough. I should at least be able to find a few suspects. I have fucking nothing. Viking clears his throat, standing and walking around to stand beside Bullet’s desk, between the thick wood and Piggy.

“I have an idea,” he announces. “I know of an older goldish car, but it doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“Who?” I snap.

“Bullet would have recognized her, and he didn’t,” Viking continues.

“Who?” I demand.

The room is filled with silence, and I don’t know why. I try to think of any woman who drives a gold car, but I got fucking nothing. Not a goddamn thing. My brows snap together, and my lips turn down into a frown.

“Hazzard, but I can’t imagine…” Viking’s voice trails off.

No, I can’t fucking imagine. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone like that,” I mutter. I can’t imagine it. I can’t even pretend to picture it. What the actual fuck. “Who would be the man in this scenario? There are two of them.”

“What if it’s two women?” Viking asks.

“Women don’t usually blow shit up,” Piggy calls out.

No, typical women don’t usually blow shit up, but the clubwhores aren’t typical women. They are tough, they are strong, and they can be fucking mean . But I can’t imagine any of them would be that way toward a brother.

“It’s worth asking questions,” Bullet says.

I’m not sure I want to ask any questions. I’m not sure I want to know. The trust and the loyalty being betrayed and lost are something I’m not ready to just accept right now. I would rather it be a fucking client.

I hope this theory is all wrong and that we’re barking up the wrong tree, but since we have no trees to bark up, this is one we’re going to have to at least check out.

“Call Hazzard in,” I grind out.