Chapter Nine

VOID

After I woke up to Ivy’s hand down my pants, I nearly lost fucking control. The urge to pin her to the bed and fuck her like a damn madman washed over me in such a fierce adrenaline rush that all I could see was red.

In a flash, it could have gone either way.

For me to revert to the man I once was.

But seeing her gorgeous, innocent face pulled me back and woke me from my past.

Usually, I wouldn’t be concerned about it happening with a woman. They might understand, they might not. Hell, some even get turned on by it. But the first time I take Ivy, I need to be gentle, and honestly, I don’t know if I fucking have it in me.

Her first time would be better with someone like Dash. A man who can be attentive to her needs. Not someone like me, too far fucking gone to give Ivy the first she deserves.

I take another sip, straight from the bottle. A quarter of the Jack Daniel’s whiskey now seeps through my veins. I’ve been here a while. Idiot. I shouldn’t have left Ivy the way I did. I shouldn’t have spoken to her the way I did. But if I hadn’t left, I would have done something I’d regret even more, and then she would never forgive me. As it is, it took me forever to deal with the hardcore fucking boner I had from her almost touching me.

The thought of her hands on me—goddamn! I clench my eyes, trying to stop my mind from wandering off again. Ivy tears me apart in all the right ways. She doesn’t understand the effect she has on me.

I wish I could tell her.

Fuck! I wish I could show her.

But she’s not ready for that.

I take another sip from the bottle as my door slams open without a knock. Usually, I’d be annoyed at whoever’s breaking into my room without knocking, but right now, I just don’t have one single, solitary fuck to give.

“You need to get your shit together,” Nycto grunts out while walking over, then he shoves my feet across the bed.

The whiskey spills from the bottle with the force of Nycto’s shove, and I bring it away from my lips. I let out a groan, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I need to do fucking nothing.”

“Can you ride?” Nycto asks, swiping the bottle away then screwing on the lid.

I shrug. “I’ve had a quarter bottle. You’re fully aware I can handle my liquor.”

“Good. I need you to go to the café. Trixie called, said some people are hanging around acting suspiciously.”

I stand, yanking my cut into place. “On it.”

“Void?” I raise my brow. “You’d best not get pulled over for a breath test, brother.”

I dip my chin and take off for my ride. If Trixie’s in trouble, at least there’s something I’m good at—letting unwanted people know how much they’re not wanted.

Hopping on my ride, I turn over the engine. My baby purrs beneath me, and for some reason, I wish Ivy was on the back. It felt so right when she was clinging to me, her arms wrapped around my waist under my cut, holding on tight. I shake away the feeling and take off anyway, the kick of the alcohol buzzing through my system.

The ride doesn’t take long. As I pull up to the café, a couple of men inside the store are obviously yelling at Trixie, so I jump off my ride quicker than I thought possible. Hoisting my gun from my jeans, I storm in, thrusting the door open so quickly it hits the wall with a thud. Loud screeches reach my ears, but the assholes don’t even stop to notice me.

“Hand it over, you stupid bitch, or I swear to God—”

I aim the gun, cocking it right at the stupid fucker who doesn’t see me coming. “You swear to God, what? Better choose your next words carefully, asshole, or this bullet will choose them for you.”

The loudmouth and his friend snap their heads toward me, eyes widening as they take in my club cut. Their hands shoot up in surrender, and they start backing up.

“Hey, man, it’s a simple misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, I figured. You’d better get the fuck out… and if you come back, I’m gonna put a bullet in your dick so you know what it’s like to be the dickless idiots you are, then I’ll shoot you between your eyes for good fucking measure.” I point, aiming at the loudmouth’s foot, then squeeze the trigger.

My gun recoils, the bullet flying out with speed and precision.

The idiot screams out in agony, jumping on the spot, leaving a trail of blood on Trixie’s freshly mopped floor.

“What the fuck did you do that for, you fucking maniac?” loudmouth’s sidekick screams, wrapping his arm around his friend in support.

“Because I am Defiance. You cross us, you pay. And just for calling me a fucking maniac, let me prove you fucking right!” Bringing my gun up again, I aim it at the sidekick, his eyes widening with fear when I pull the trigger without hesitation.

The gun recoils in my palm, the bullet slamming straight between his eyes. His body jerks with the force. The loudmouth I initially shot in the leg was being held up by the now-dead sidekick. Loudmouth goes down with him like a ton of bricks, letting out a girlish scream as his friend’s head explodes beside him. Blood spatters across the back wall like some artistic painting.

Snorting out a laugh at loudmouth cowering like a bitch, I flick the safety back on my gun and stow it away. “Now, we have an agreement, you and me… don’t we?” I mumble, my voice low and gravelly as I step closer to the loudmouth.

His body trembles as he nods frantically, slowly sliding across the tiled floor toward the door. Blood from the wound on his leg leaves a trail, creating a masterpiece glistening in its perfection. “I… I swear I won’t come b-back.”

My lips turn up, and I glance over my shoulder, my eyes meeting Trixie’s. She smirks at me like she’s enjoying the show I am putting on.

I turn back to the idiot who’s almost at the front door. “And you’re going to tell all your junkie friends that this café is off limits… right? Because we know what happens when people like you come onto our property. Or do I need to remind you?” I say, reaching for my gun again.

He throws his hands into the air, his eyes wide with fear. “No! No. I’ll remember. I’ll get the word out. This place is safe. I p-promise.”

Shrugging, I aim my gun at him for good measure anyway. “Then get the fuck out of here, asshole!”

He nods and struggles to get to his wounded feet, slipping in his own blood a few times, but then pulls the front door open, takes one last look at his friend, and rushes out the door.

I grin, turn, and stow my gun while Trixie rushes out from behind the counter. She lunges at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me to her in a tight hug.

I tense, still hating fucking affection.

I stand uncomfortably, not even game to pat her awkwardly in support.

I’ve only just gotten used to letting Ivy touch me—I’m not on board with this—so I reach up and grab Trixie’s arms, moving her a step back as she exhales dramatically.

“Thank you, Void. You’re a lifesaver. It didn’t look like they had guns or anything, but they were starting to become pretty damn vocal. I was getting scared.”

I take in the café, trying to see if there’s any damage other than the excessive blood and one dead body. “Did they take anything? Do any damage?”

“No, they were after cash. Junkies after a fix, maybe. I don’t even think they’re aware of what’s out the back, ’cause they didn’t come looking for it… just the cash.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe that guy will be back, but I’ll have a brother stand guard during the day for a while.”

“Thank you… I appreciate that.”

“Looks like I made a mess. Got caught up in the moment… I’ve had a day.”

Trixie grips my bicep. “Hey, I’m just glad you were here. You saved my ass. Even if we have a mess to clean up.”

Rolling my shoulders, I glance back out at the scene. “West will be here soon. He can do cleanup. You girls don’t have to worry about this shit.”

Trixie smiles. “Well, in the meantime, I’ve just made a batch of macarons. You wanna take some back to the clubhouse and try them for me? Make sure I got the ratios right? It might help you relax?”

“ ‘Macarons,’ ” I say, using air quotes, and chuckle. “I’m sure they’re awesome.” She wants to make sure the ratio of sweet treat to weed is good to go before we sell them.

I got her back.

I’m more than happy to test them.

I need to space out for a while anyway. I’m sick of this damn day. “Show me the way.”

“Lizzy, can you close the store down while I head out back? Make sure to black out all the windows. We don’t need anyone casually walking by and seeing all… this,” Trixie calls out to her staff member, thankfully also one of our club girls.

“Sure thing!”

Trixie turns, leading me through the kitchen and into the back area. She walks me to a concealed door and opens it, and we enter, ensuring to pull it shut behind us. Trixie punches in the code, it beeps, then she pulls on the heavy handle, and it opens. As we walk through, she looks back at me, smiling. The door automatically shuts once we pass through into the small vestibule chamber where plastic see-through blinds hang. After pushing our way through to a roller door, she slides it up, and instantly, the smell hits me. It’s then I realize why there are so many safety precautions. The barricades need to be in place to block out the pungent smell of the product as well as to hide its existence.

As we walk further inside, there’s row after row of benches lining the large area, all packed with what look like desserts ready to go. There’s even a refrigerated section. Along the back wall is the kitchen, complete with industrial stoves, mixers, sinks, white goods—you name it, Trix has it.

This is an elite setup.

Nycto and Trixie did good!

I like how covert this all is. “You must love this part of the store.”

She shrugs. “It certainly brings in a hell of a lot more money than out front, but those who purchase these goods generally buy in bulk, and we ship the product out to them. It’s a mass-production enterprise.”

“Okay, show me these treats.”

She walks me over to a bench where a tray of green macarons sits. “Green… creative,” I mock.

She rolls her eyes. “They’re lime-flavored, smartass.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” I pick one up. It’s smooth in texture on the outside, and as I bite into it, it’s a little chewy but soft. The tang of the lime hits me immediately. It tastes a lot like her Key lime pie. I can’t taste the dope at all, and the flavor is incredible. Swallowing the whole thing down, I lick my lips. “This is fucking delicious, Trix.”

I reach out to pick up another one, but her eyes widen as her hand comes out, stopping me just as I go to put it in my mouth. “You shouldn’t if you plan on riding back any time soon.”

I scoff, shoving the whole thing in my mouth at once. “One more for the road,” I say with my mouth full of the tasty treat.

Trixie grimaces, shaking her head. “You should let it hit you and mellow out before you take off, VP.”

I wave my hand through the air. “I’m built outta brick, Trix. I’ll be fine. I’ll let you know how it goes, though, okay?” I turn to walk out of this elite fucking setup to the main café, Trixie following me apprehensively.

I spend a while talking shit with Trixie about her new recipes and how the shop is going, but I need to get back. As I make it to the front of the café, West strolls inside for protective and clean up detail.

My skin begins to prickle. My head starts to feel like it’s floating or spinning, not sure which. Clearing my throat as I walk over to West, I grip his shoulder and look directly into his eyes. Seeing my reflection in them, I could almost swear my irises are red… I blink a few times, shaking the image away.

He tilts his head, studying me. “You okay, VP?”

“Call me if there are further problems. I dealt with the idiots who were here, so I don’t expect any further issues,” I say, ignoring his question.

West nods.

I slap his back, then turn for the exit.

“Void,” Trixie calls out. I turn back to look at her and blink a few more times to get things into perspective. Is there two of her?

“Ride slow, okay?”

I give her a two-fingered salute and head out the door toward my ride. The shining chrome is even brighter today. Fuck, she’s beautiful! I blink rapidly again, shielding my eyes as I walk over, then slide quickly onto my bike.

I shouldn’t ride, but the trip home is short.

I know I can make it.

As I take off, my bike lurches. I widen my eyes, not anticipating the speed in which I accelerate. Still, I hang on, taking all the appropriate turns, focusing on the road with all my attention. I need to concentrate so I make it back in one fucking piece.

I’m not sure how, but as my eyes focus, I try to take in my surroundings and figure out where the hell I am. From what I can tell, I’m about twenty minutes in the opposite direction of the clubhouse, out on Van Dyke Road. Fairly sure my bike’s swerving, I try to correct it, zeroing my eyes in on the road like a hawk. The trees on either side of this stretch of asphalt are monotonous.

Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree.

A sense of foreboding creeps in and takes hold.

I need to keep focused.

I blink rapidly, narrowing my eyes, but a white statue up ahead on the edge of the road catches my attention. As I approach, I take my eyes off the road for a second.

Only one second.

The statue isn’t a statue at all—it’s an image of my father.

My body jerks as panic sears through me. I pull on the throttle, making my back tire squeal and then slide out from under me. My bike hitches, turning to the side, catches on something, then I’m hurtled off over the handlebars. Time slows as I fly in cartwheels through the air, my bike somersaulting along the road. The sound of metal scratching, breaking, and squealing grinds in my ears as I fly across the top of the asphalt, the whole thing playing out in slow-fucking-motion. The sky is so blue. I’m flying! But I’m brought back to reality as I slam down hard onto the road. Sliding along, my body rolls with the friction, and I groan as my skin is torn to pieces, my jeans ripping apart. Eventually, I come to a stop in a ditch at the side of the road.

My head spins like a motherfucker, and my body aches so damn much I want to hurl. I look around and see my bike resting against a tree in the ditch a few feet away from me. I lie on my back, looking up at the sky, panting for breath as the clouds form skulls and crossbones above me. I must still be fucking tripping. I rest in the ditch, broken and bleeding.

I’m not sure how long I stay here for, staring up at the skulls. I swear they’re mocking me, but I need to do something. I can’t just lie here. My hand slides into my jeans pocket for my cell.

I cough, and my entire body tenses, the pain incredible as I bring my cell into my line of sight and dial the number I need right now—Nerve.

“VP! Everything okay at Trixie’s?”

I grimace, shifting on the ground to try and get some semblance of comfort. “Nerve… I’m tripping hard. I’ve eaten asphalt, brother, in a bad way.”

“Fuck! How bad are you hurt? Do you need an EMT?”

I glance down at my legs, where there are no obvious open fractures. “No, I’m good. You should be able to patch me up. My ride, not so much.”

“Okay, hold on… I’m coming. I’ll have Atomic track your cell.”

“Thanks, brother.” I end the call, dropping my cell to the ground because I’m too fucked-up to keep talking.

Trying to hide those fucking skull clouds from my sight, I slump my arm over my eyes.

Goddammit! I should have listened to Trixie. I should have brought the macarons home with me, but no, I was in a downward spiral because of Ivy and thought I could handle it. But this—this is just plain stupid.

Nycto’s gonna fucking kill me, and I deserve it!

Groaning, I somehow find the strength to lift up, then pull myself out of the ditch. I move to the edge of the road and sit, waiting for Nerve. I peer over my shoulder at my mangled ride. Wincing, I turn back to the other side of the road. I must still be tripping. The shadows…

Like swirling capes, shadows dart to and fro in the forest in front of me, moving far too fast to be anything real. My anxiety creeps in further as the white statues appear, slowly edging their way out from the trees.

“Fuck off, all of you!” I yell.

Now I’m really losing my mind.

Yelling at my own imagination.

As the white statues show their faces, I tense. They’re all people from my past. I clench my eyes shut, trying like hell to wipe them from my memory, attempting to fight the images from my mind. When I open my eyes again, they’re still there, and this time, my father is back, but he’s standing there, not saying anything, quietly watching me fall apart in my mind.

It’s fitting.

They would do that.

“I said… Fuck. Off!”

The squealing of tires echoes in the distance. I turn my head to see a tow truck heading toward me, like one of those mirages people see in the desert. I feel like it’s only been a few minutes, but it must have been a while for Nerve to grab the tow truck and get everything in order to find me.

Man, tripping makes you lose all sense of time.

I turn back, the statues now retreating into the forest. “Ha! Yeah, you better run, you motherfuckers!” I call out to them as the tow truck pulls over, and Nerve rides up on his bike, pulling up in front of me. He hops off as a door to the truck pushes open, and Ivy comes surging toward me.

Am I still tripping?

She drops to her knees beside me and places her hand on my cheek. The second she touches me, a spark shoots straight to my dick.

Is she really here?

“Jesus, Void, what have you done to yourself?”

I take her in. She’s glowing, my high making her seem like a real-life, fucking heaven-sent angel. I swear she even has a halo as I stare blankly up at her. Maybe this is it. Maybe I am dying. It’ll be worth it if only to have the angel’s touch, for hers to be the last face I see.

Nerve steps over with a thermos, demanding my attention. “Drink this, dickhead.” He shoves it at me, and I reach out to take it. I’m hit by the smell of coffee, and as I take a sip, the bitter hit instantly soothes the wrecking ball of my mind. My eyes dance over Ivy as she systematically checks my body, relaying the information to Nerve, while Brass loads my ride onto the flatbed.

Nerve drops to Ivy’s side as she presses my ribs. I jerk and groan, and her eyes shoot to Nerve. “Could be broken,” he grunts. “We need to get him back to the clubhouse quick, and sober his ass up before the heat catches wind of this.”

Ivy runs her hand over my arm in a soothing gesture. “Why the hell did you ride so out of it, Void? You could’ve killed yourself.”

I shake my head, unable to answer her. She’s simply too fucking gorgeous. She’s rendered me utterly speechless. Or maybe I’m still too fucking smashed.

Nerve moves in to help hoist me up. As he does, pain sears through my body. A loud groan escapes me, and Nerve moves under one arm, Ivy under the other, so they can walk me to the cab of the truck. Once there, Nerve and Brass hoist me up inside.

Ivy sits beside me as Nerve and Brass talk outside, leaving Ivy and me alone.

I try to gather my rampant running thoughts, but I can’t keep my stupid mouth from moving on its own. “You came for me…”

Ivy turns to face me, her brows scrunched together. “Of course, Void. No matter what weird stalemate we’re in right now, I do care about you.”

I bring my bloodied hand up to caress her gorgeous face. “You’re beautiful.”

Her eyes widen as Nerve steps up into the driver’s side of the cab and hands me my cell. “I’m gonna drive. Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t tank on the way home,” he says to Ivy.

I lean my head back, tired as fuck, sore as hell, and completely the fuck out of it. I don’t think I hit my head, so I doubt I have a concussion. Seems like a good time for a nap. It won’t be as good as the nap I had this morning with Ivy, but she’s right here, so maybe it might be as peaceful.

Closing my eyes, I move my hand out to link with hers. She doesn’t hesitate to thread her fingers with mine.

There’s my sweet thing.