Page 19 of Wild Side (Vicious Reapers MC #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ZADIE

The loud shouting and men’s rumbling voices abruptly end. I don’t know if that’s because my dad is dead or maybe he’s been punched out. Either way, I stare at the hallway they vanished down and wait for them to reappear. The entire time, I try to ignore Sable, but she’s having none of it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Turning my head, I look at her. She’s standing a few feet away from me, trying to make herself appear small and innocent. Her eyes are rounded, her face relaxed in an attempt to seem harmless.

I know her tricks.

I’ve seen her use this expression on Brake, on other men, on teachers when she got in trouble, on her dad when she would get caught doing something he’d told her not to do. She can use this shit on someone else, but not on me.

“No, you’re not,” I simply state. “You’re not the least bit sorry. I just don’t understand what you think you’re going to gain from what you did. From betraying me like this.”

Her eyes narrow, and I watch as her face twists into something downright ugly. She’s getting ready to unleash some venom on me. I can tell it’s going to be especially mean, so I brace myself.

“Fuck you, Zadie. Perfect, perfect, Zadie. You’re the president’s daughter. You don’t know shit. You think you know what it’s like out in the world? I can tell you that you do not. I’m just trying to protect myself. You’re always protected just because of who you are.”

I want to comment on the perfect part, about how my father’s version of perfection was expected, or there would be consequences.

I was too afraid to find out what those consequences would be, so I strived to reach his level of perfection, and I’m glad I did, because I just experienced said consequence today, and I’d rather not go through that ever again.

Maybe I should feel sorry for her, that she would behave this way toward someone she pretended to be best friends with. Because if she can do this to me? Then who the hell needs an enemy? I can’t imagine what she would do to someone she hates.

I don’t feel sorry for her, though. She’s not sorry for what she’s done. She thinks she’s vindicated, that she’s in some sort of right here, but she simply is not. She’s nothing but a social climber. She’s trying to fuck her way into being an old lady, and it doesn’t work that way.

It’s sad. It’s pathetic, really, but she’s a bitch and can swim in her pool of pathetic for all I care. I’ve got my own situation to worry about. I can’t muster up the energy to care about someone who has treated me the way she has.

“Fine,” I say. “Fuck me, then.”

Taking a step back from her, I don’t turn my back for fear she might stab it again. She narrows her eyes at me, obviously not impressed with my lack of response to her bullshit. Thankfully, before she can say anything else, the men appear.

Flicking my gaze past Sable’s shoulder, I watch as Goose and Maverick walk out first, followed by my father, and then Bullet. Maverick’s eyes meet mine, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. What I do notice is that his jaw is set hard and his expression is stone.

“Zadie,” he calls out.

I blink. He searches my eyes for a moment, then closes the distance between us as Goose steps to the side. However, he doesn’t go far. I still want to thank him, even if he likely won’t accept the appreciation. I’ll have to wait for the right time and place, though, because this is not it.

Maverick cups my cheek gently. The move surprises me. It’s not that he’s gently touching me, or that he’s doing it in front of my father, but because the expression on his face is not gentle in any way whatsoever. It’s hard.

“Claimed you, Zadie. You’re mine.”

I know what those words mean. I may not understand the depth of them, but I know what they mean, at least on a surface level.

Claiming me means that I’m protected by the club. I’m also untouchable to the other members of the Reapers.

What I don’t know is the details of what that means as far as the context of our personal relationship, but again, it is not the time or place to ask questions like that. So I don’t ask anything yet. I will, but for now, I look into Maverick’s eyes.

He dips his chin in a single nod before he clears his throat. “And you’re staying here.”

End of conversation.

Here I stay then.

Except I’m not sure if that’s what I want. I don’t know him that well, I don’t have a job here, and I won’t be able to find another one anytime soon. Before I can comment, I hear my father clear his throat, then he grunts.

Maverick’s hand drops as he slowly turns to face him, his hand shifting, his arm curling around my waist as he pulls me against his side. I try to stay loose and relaxed, but I know my muscles stiffen at the move, or maybe it’s at the way my father is peering at me. I’m not sure.

“I leave here without you, Zadie, that’s it. Don’t come crawling back to me when this shit doesn’t work out.”

Pressing my lips tightly together, I try hard not to comment on what my dad has just said. I want to be such a smart-ass to him. I don’t know what he thinks he does for me now, but I don’t think even if I failed living next door to him, I would ask him for help.

My father washed his hands of actually parenting me when I was about ten years old, maybe even before that. But I’ve lived in a constant state of being his brand of perfect that I haven’t been living. I’ve been modeling the behavior he expected from me.

Stay away from the club.

Be a good girl.

Do as I’m told.

Never bother him.

Never be a bother to anyone.

Work and take care of myself, but always with the mindset of, What would my father think of this behavior?

And never, ever, expect a damn thing from him.

If that is the help he’s referring to keeping from me…

he can have it. He can keep it. He can swim in it until he drowns.

I don’t want it. Maybe it’s a mistake to move all the way across the country for a stranger and have a baby with him, but maybe, just maybe, it will be the best decision of my life.

MAVERICK

Halo is fucked up.

Beyond fucked up.

I can’t look away from him. The fact that he’s so quick to write his own child off.

That he had his hands on her, the redness on her neck.

It makes me sick. Even if Zadie and I don’t work out, she will never have to go back to him.

My pride wouldn’t let that happen. I will always take care of her, of my kid—always.

“Thank you,” Zadie finally says. Her voice is strong, her attention focused on her father and only her father.

His brows snap together, no doubt confused by those two simple words. He doesn’t say anything, though. Instead, his lips twitch into a smirk as he waits for her to continue. I know he thinks he’s won, but he hasn’t won shit.

“Thank you for releasing me,” Zadie continues.

Then, without another word, she turns toward me, tilts her head back as she looks up into my eyes. “I think I’m going to go ahead and lie down. I’m tired.”

Whatever anger and annoyance I felt just moments ago have vanished. She’s not upset. She’s completely at peace. Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers. “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I mutter.

Zadie takes a step backward, then moves toward the hallway. I hear Goose grumble that he’ll walk her to my room, but I shift my focus back to Halo. My anger and annoyance immediately reappear just at the sight of him.

Imagine that.

Once Zadie and Goose are out of earshot, I narrow my gaze on him. I ignore the bitch who has been silently watching this entire exchange. I know it’s her friend, or at least a woman who Zadie thought was her friend. Clearly, she is not that. No, my attention is only for Halo.

“You’re done,” I state.

Bullet makes a noise, but I ignore him. He knows what is right and wrong, and he knows that Halo is wrong in about a million different ways. “You can’t do shit to me,” Halo snaps. “She wasn’t claimed when I got here. She was still my property.”

Wrong.

Thing.

To.

Say.

I think about all the different ways I can fuck with him. Bullet can strip his title, kick his ass out, and I can kill him without a single person being able to say dick. I’m not sure if Zadie would even care which way this particular cookie crumbled.

As much as I want to take complete control of this situation, I do something that’s a bit out of the ordinary for me. I defer to my president. It’s usually me and Goose against the world, has been since we were born, but that’s not what this situation calls for.

This calls for Bullet to act as president. That is his status, so the responsibility falls on him. At least when it comes to Halo.

“It’s up to you, Bull. You do whatever fits this scenario. I will trust and agree with whatever your decision is.”

You could hear a pin drop. Halo doesn’t say shit. Shocker is watching from the bar and doesn’t chime in, either. Bullet is quiet. I’m not sure if he’s thinking of what he’s going to say or if he’s purposely drawing it out just to mentally fuck with Halo and make him sweat a bit more.

He moves toward Halo, stopping directly in front of him. “I have a unique opportunity here,” Bullet begins. “As the newest president of the original charter, this is the first opportunity I have to make an example out of a member of another charter who fucks up. Big time.”

“So now you’re going to use me as an example to parade around for the other clubs to point and laugh at?” Halo snaps.

I watch as Bullet lifts his hand to his chin and rubs it back and forth as if he’s thinking. I know he’s not thinking about shit. His decision is made. It was made in the office before we ever walked out here.

But something shifts. I don’t know if it’s the air around us, but something definitely changes. “Who does she belong to?” Bullet asks, lifting his hand before he extends his finger toward the girl.

“She’s one of my men’s daughters.”

“That you’re what… dating?” Bullet asks.

Halo smirks before he lets out a snort. “Fucking, but then again, so are others.”

“She a clubwhore, then?” Bullet asks.

“More or less,” Halo states.

The fact that she’s a member’s daughter gives her a bit more protection than if she were just some town girl he was fucking. She is indeed not that. Bullet nods a couple of times, then lifts his gaze to meet Halo’s again.

“Call her father right now. Tell him you’re fucking her.”

“So this is your big example?” Halo asks.

Bullet grins. “Absolutely not. This is just for shits and giggles. Call him.”

The girl gasps, but she honestly doesn’t fucking matter. She’s not only pointless, she’s useless. This is just to fuck with him, and fuck with him Bullet does. The sound of the phone ringing on speaker causes me to dip my chin in an effort to hide my smirk.

“Rose,” Halo grunts. “Got somethin’ you probably should know.”