Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Isla

I woke up sore but more satiated and content than I remember ever being. Frowning, I sat up and looked around. I was still naked and the room was empty. I dropped my head into my hands. "What are you doing, Isla?" I muttered. "You're supposed to be keeping him at arm's length."

It was one thing to have sex with him. That was easy. It felt good, and I could walk away from a sex-only situation. But this was more than that. I wanted to lie to myself, to bury my head in the sand, but I was too much of a realist to do that. Every piece of himself that Butcher showed me was making me like him more and more.

I got out of bed, not caring about my nudity, and went over to my go bag. Pulling the folder out, I went and sat cross-legged on the bed and flipped it open. Butcher scowled at me from the page and I scanned the information there, even though I'd read it a hundred times. It was different now that I knew him. Now that he was breaking through my defenses .

Setting his file aside with a sigh, I got up and showered. I pulled on fresh clothes after I'd gotten cleaned up and went downstairs to search for him. It was time for us to come up with a plan. Since these men were going to work with me, I didn't need to wait for the assassins to come to me. We needed to go on the offensive. We. Not I, we. I really was becoming one of them wasn't I?

As soon as I got downstairs, I spotted him. He was in the corner speaking with his brothers. The conversation looked intense, so I turned away, then froze as I saw who was standing behind me. Terror wasn't a normal feeling for me. "Um. Hi."

The little girls smiled up at me. "Hi," It was the oldest one that spoke, Gabby.

"Hi," I repeated. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Why do you have this?"

I looked over and saw Taylor holding my favorite knife Mrs. Stabsworth, Stabby for short. Naming things was common for me. I'd done it when I was a little girl because my mother had left me alone a lot and talking to dolls wasn't as weird if you named them. Of course, I didn't have a lot of dolls so I had to pretend that random utensils were dolls. Having a tea party with a wooden spoon and a spatula would have just been weird, so in my mind they were regular toys. Older me was used to the tradition and I wasn't sure it was even a choice anymore. Things just had names.

What the hell? Patting my waist, I frowned. I hadn't even felt her take it from its hiding spot. A rather intimate hiding spot. "You-"

"Oh, you look pretty with red hair," Gabby commented.

She'd taken my ID holder from my back pocket while I was focused on her sister. It had all my different passports and IDs in it.

"Why does it say your name is Tiffany?" Taylor asked, craning her neck to read.

"Mama said your name is Isla," Cassie said, very matter of factly.

"It is-" I started then broke off when a new hand patted my thigh. I stared at Caitlyn. There was a vibe about her that made my hard exterior soften. I knew a wounded little girl when I saw one. Hell, I'd been one. "Yeah? "

"Taylor said you have a kitty," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "Can I meet her?"

Wow. These girls packed a punch. And it hit you straight in the heart. There was no way I could crush the hope I saw on her face. "Sure." I reached out and swiped Stabby from Taylor's hands before she could react. I didn't need Jenny and Priest lecturing me on allowing their kids to play with a sharp implement. Not that I'd allowed it in the first place, but I was sure I'd get the blame.

"Hey!"

"It's not polite to take things that don't belong to you," I told her. Like I had any idea. I did stuff like that all the time when I was working, but it was something I remember some adult telling me when I was younger.

Cassie shot me a winning smile and whispered, "Uncle Butcher and Uncle Toxic are teaching us."

My brows shot up. "They are?"

"They teach us lots of stuff," Taylor replied with a grin. "It's fun."

"You're pretty good at it," I admitted.

Her gaze turned devious. "Maybe you could teach us some stuff sometime?"

I stared at them, and they were all giving me hopeful looks, and my heart twisted in my chest. I liked them. Wanted to teach them things and get to know them better. When was the last time I wanted to learn more about anyone? Yet, here I was again wanting that with these girls, with the women, with Butcher…

How could I do that though and then walk away once we took care of Randal and the assassins? I'd be the one left alone, once again. I wasn't sure I'd survive this time though.

"Please?" Taylor begged.

"Okay. Yeah, sure." I was going to have to safeguard my heart. Because the man who was now staring at me from where he sat in the corner of the room was already a threat to it. But damn, these girls would probably steal it away before I even realized their sticky hands were on it.

"I need to speak to your...Uncle Butcher," I told them .

"Okay!" they chorused and ran off to get into some kind of mischief.

Walking over to the men in the corner, I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, but knowing I needed to. Butcher motioned for me to come closer as the guys all focused on me.

"We should go after Randal," I told them. "If we kill him maybe we can put a stop to this."

"Wouldn't his employers still send more people after us?" Lockout asked.

He was right. I was just hoping, for these people's sake, that we could finish this quickly. "Probably," I admitted, "but maybe he can tell us who he works for, if nothing else."

"You know where he is?" Hush asked.

"I know where his office is. Or where I met him anyway." My eyes locked onto Butcher's and one side of his mouth tipped up in a small, encouraging grin.

"Worth a shot," Butcher told the group.

"Yeah, it is. Static, Idaho, you'll stay here, help Bear, Mel, and Dash watch over the clubhouse," Lockout ordered.

"We're going to need all the help we can get soon," Toxic told him.

"I already called Cypher."

Everyone nodded and then broke up on some silent cue from their president that I didn't catch. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask who Cypher was. These guys had so many alliances, so many connections that I realized most of the time they were fighting with one hand tied behind their back. If they really wanted they could call upon a small army and take over the whole damn city. But Butcher had explained earlier that, for one reason or another, they weren't willing to drag other people into their fights. They would only use their allies when they absolutely had to, and only those who were still in the life and didn't mind getting their hands dirty.

Butcher came over to me, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. "Thanks."

"For what?" I asked, trying not to melt into his touch. As much as it pained me to, I was going to have to cut off sex. There was no way I could keep things casual with him. Not if he was affecting me like this after only a couple days.

If I let this continue the way it was going I'd be pregnant by the end of the week, and possibly on purpose. It wasn't like he was remembering a damn condom—and my brain short-circuited every time he touched me—and I couldn't just pop out to the store to get anything to help either. I wasn't exactly a captive anymore, but he certainly didn't seem to want me going anywhere. Then there were those pesky co-workers of mine who wanted me dead.

"For helping us."

I laughed and shook my head. "You're helping me, remember?"

"It's just nice to see you fully on board."

"You guys aren't trying to kill me," I said with a shrug, trying to downplay everything. This kind of thing always made me uncomfortable. It probably had something to do with being raised by a useless mother and a mean witch of a grandmother. I'd learned a few of my torture techniques from my grandmother in fact. Still used them to this day.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he told me as he lifted his free hand and rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip.

Someone clearing their throat nearby made me jump and I looked over and saw Toxic grinning at us. I panicked, not knowing how to handle the confused jumble of emotions he created within me, so I punched Butcher in the gut and stepped away as his grip on my neck loosened.

Toxic let out a laugh and said to Butcher, "I like her."

"So do I," Butcher replied, rubbing his stomach and grinning. "I love that in a woman."

"Bat shit crazy?" Toxic asked.

"Violence."

Toxic shook his head then looked over at me. "You're definitely meant for each other."

I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that, or the way the two men were looking at me. "I need to go get Donna," I told them and disappeared as fast as I could. Was it cowardly? Sure. But I didn't know what else to do. Besides, I legit needed to clean her. She could hollow out a dime at a thousand yards, but god forbid she fire ten rounds straight without jamming. Finicky bitch.

"Who's Donna?" Toxic asked as I ran away.

I didn't hear what Butcher told him as I rushed up the stairs and into his room. Leaning back against the door, I closed my eyes. This was going to be so much harder than I originally thought. But I couldn't take off and leave them to deal with the consequences of my actions. I wasn't that kind of girl. And I wasn't a coward when it came to facing my demons. Which meant I needed to figure out a way to exist around these people, but not let them get too close. I was the one who'd pay the price if I couldn't.

The door shoved me forward, and I turned to scowl at Butcher. He'd nearly knocked me on my ass. It was a good reminder of how strong he was. The fact that I was relying on him, and therefore his MC brothers, was also a testament to his strength and intelligence. I was taught at a young age, probably Cassie and Caitlyn's age, not to depend on anyone but myself.

Butcher shut the door, watching me with a thoughtful look on his face. "Why'd you run up here?"

Like I was going to tell him that. It would require telling him that I was afraid of falling in love with him. "I told you, I needed to get Donna." I walked over to where my rifle was secured away in a safe he had in his closet.

Without another word, he walked over and keyed in the code. The clunk of the lock releasing was loud inside the room as the door swung open.

My brows shot upward and without thinking, I reached forward and let my finger trail over the sharpened edge of an ax. There were knives, guns, and a machete also hanging there. There were more weapons inside the safe, but these had been given premium space on the door. "Trophies?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

"What was this one from?" I asked, still touching the ax .

"Helped me and a friend get out of a lot of trouble," he replied, then shrugged.

I understood completely. I had my own trophies as well. Those weapons that had saved your life on so many occasions you needed to honor them. That's why Donna and Stabby went everywhere with me. I had more, but those were locked away inside my home in the White Mountains. A safe place where I could keep them all together and organized. I had collected a lot of them throughout my twenty-nine years. I knew from his folder that Butcher was eight years older than me. He also had an impressive stash of trophies.

"Do you have any family we need to hide before this shit kicks off?"

Studying his profile as he pulled Donna from the safe, I wondered if he was really worried about my fictional family? Or was he just trying to learn more about me? "No. I don't have any family."

He turned and handed me my weapon. "None?"

"None." I cocked my head. "How about you?"

"You've met them," he said, spreading his hands to indicate the club and their families.

"No one else?" I asked as I took the rifle over to the bed and pulled a box of cleaning supplies out of my bag.

The shake of his head was clipped and screamed ‘I don't want to talk about it'.

I also didn't want to talk about my fucked up childhood, so I knew better than to pry. Though I did have one question. "Tell me something, Butcher." I quickly broke the weapon down and used the soft cloths and equipment to clean the outside of the gun.

One dark brow rose while he waited for me to ask my question. I wondered if he was fully aware of the effect he had on women. Or if he even cared. "What's your name?" I used a brush inside the barrel before running another soft cloth through with a metal pole.

He folded his arms over his chest, a slow smile spreading over his face. "Doesn't it tell you that in your little folder?"

"Didn't you look through it?" I asked, perplexed. If he had a folder on me I would've gone through it so fast it would make his head spin. As soon as the replacement cloth came out clean, I oiled Donna up and reassembled her.

"No."

He had boundaries. I knew based on his reaction the night we met, he didn't cheat. And apparently he didn't snoop either. Setting Donna aside, I went over to my go bag and pulled the folder out, handing it to him.

His brows shot up in surprise, but he flipped through it.

"That's everything they have on you," I told him. "Or everything they were willing to give us anyway," I amended. It didn't include his real name, anything about his past, only how dangerous he was, the weapons he was proficient with, and information about his life now, the club, etc. Though even that was sparse.

"Not much to go on," he remarked. His eyes met mine. "What made you take the job?"

Sighing, I grabbed the folder back from him and placed it back in my bag. When he grinned, I shrugged. "I keep all of them," I explained. There was a spot in my hideaway for that folder and if it didn't go in with the others it would drive me insane. "Money," I replied, answering his question.

He let out a deep sound that almost sounded like a grunt. But it had an edge of disbelief to it.

"Well, the money had to be right," I amended, "but really it was the challenge." I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was watching me. "It's been a while since I'd come across someone like you." In reality, there was no one like him. No one else who would have made me change sides like this. Give up a contract. Throw everything I'd worked for out the window. "So?"

"Dean Turner."

I blinked in surprise. It was such a common name for an uncommon man.

"Stupid name, right?"

Shrugging, I gave him a half smile. "There's worse."

"True. Didn't take me long to establish a new name."

"Butcher." It did suit him better. "What did you do to earn it? "

"Stick around, Terror, and you'll find out." He reached into the safe, then closed the door. Handing me Donna's fully loaded magazines, he shot me a grin and walked out the door.

I blew out a breath and tried to calm my racing heart. Why was learning something so simple about him such a rush? In no way should this be as exciting as tracking a man down and killing him, yet my heart didn't seem to have gotten that memo. She was acting like this was big time news and a reason to get all bothered. I sighed. I really needed to pull myself together. I was going to have to have a serious talk with myself. But after we found Randal.

I grabbed the weapons I'd need, then checked that all my mags were full, and made my way downstairs to join the men. It wasn't lost on me that this was the first time I was working with people in any kind of meaningful way. It also wasn't lost on me that I was in a hurry to find Randal, not because it would mean I was safe, but because it meant the safety of the women and children living here. I was so in over my head.