Chapter 2

CHAPTER

TWO

DILLION

My alarm sounds from my phone, blaring in my ear, and I’m not even sure why I set it. In fact, I shouldn’t have. I set it in the hope of doing more with myself, but I’m too exhausted to care.

Reaching over, I touch the alarm icon and stop the offending noise. Lying in bed, I tug the sheets up to my neck, covering my nakedness. I should have put my pajamas on after my secret lover left last night, but I couldn’t make myself do that.

I wasn’t ready to cover my skin with clothes. I didn’t want to cover up the memory of his touch. My skin was still hyperaware, and I felt sexy. It’s silly, I know it is, but it’s the way I felt. The way I always feel when it comes to him.

Unable to take my eyes off him, I watched from the window as he climbed onto his bike and rode away, wondering where he was going. Wishing not for the first time I could go with him. That I could see his face in the light.

It seems the longer this goes on between us, the more time I spend thinking about him, daydreaming about the way his hands feel on my body. The way our bodies tangle in the darkness.

Even though I don’t know what he looks like, I can’t deny it is exciting—the fact that I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup if I tried. Of course, I want to see his face, to look into his eyes, but it feels dangerous and enthralling both at the same time that I know nothing.

I’m not someone who does risky things, ever.

My family always lived a bit on the outskirts of society. More than just the outskirts—they were the epitome of the outside of society, and I hated it. I was nothing like them, and I’m still not.

The moment I could get away from them, I ran. I went as far as I could. I wanted to start fresh and live a good, clean life. Until my family all died, and I was left this house—a house that is fully and totally paid off—free and clear.

A house that belonged to my brother. A man who I haven’t seen since I walked away. I didn’t want to see him either. And I know it sounds bad, but I’m not sad that he’s gone. It’s a relief more than anything.

I could have sold the house for cash. I probably should have, but when I lost my job, I would have been homeless because there is no way I would have gotten enough out of it to buy anything in Shreveport. A house free and clear was worth a lot to me when my paycheck vanished.

Everything in my life has been pretty bleak since I walked away from my family and their world. I tried school, and I graduated, but my grades were awful, and I still had no idea what I wanted to do in life. I tried working, and that was a failure. The only jobs I’ve been able to hold down are ones that barely pay the bills.

So, I gave up, packed my car, and moved to Pineville, Texas. At least it isn’t Shreveport. I might only be a little over an hour from my old life, but it feels like a whole new world here.

Thinking about my family has become a pastime here in this house. My brother’s house. I never wanted to see them again, and I’m not sad I won’t ever, but the guilt for not feeling bad or even a little sad fills my thoughts and has me wondering if I should have given them another chance.

Nothing like something being impossible to make you have some regrets. But if he were alive, if any of them were alive, I would want absolutely nothing to do with them. It’s a conundrum that is unanswerable—and it won’t be solved today, either. It’s just something I have to live with.

Throwing the sheets off my body, I stand up and stretch before making my way to the bathroom. Starting the shower, I don’t look at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t like what stares back at me, not because I think that I’m ugly. I know I’m not, but it’s because I look too much like my mother, or at least the memories I have of her.

She wasn’t the nicest person to me. She degraded me regularly and hit me a lot. Then she went and left me when I was ten. She never once came back. Never contacted me. As far as I know, she could be dead.

I’ve got her straight, long, light-brown hair with big green eyes. My hips flare, and my waist is small, along with my boobs. My bottom half is bigger than my top half. Freckles on my nose. Long legs but thighs that are thicker than I would like.

Wearing shorts seems to be a difficult task most of the time. It looks far too much like my vagina is trying to eat my shorts… the life of a thick-thighed girl is not for the faint of heart. So, I don’t look at my reflection unless I absolutely have to, and I don’t have to today, so I don’t.

Once I’ve showered, I get dressed. I need food. My house has been pretty empty lately. Not because I don’t like to eat, but because I’ve been too lazy to go to the store… at least that’s what I tell myself, and not the fact that I’m broke and don’t have a job.

That has to change.

I need a job.

But first… food.

Grabbing my purse off the counter, I head out of the house and toward my car. I sink down into the front seat and shove my key in the ignition. Turning it, I start the car, letting the warm air conditioning wash over me.

I close my eyes as I wait for the air to cool down, although it’s still only slightly cooler before I begin to drive. You could sit here all day long and waste a tank of gas trying to get a car to cool completely down in the Texas heat.

I start to make my way toward the grocery store but get sidetracked and suddenly find myself parked in front of a bakery—well, not just any bakery, but the bakery. I’ve only been here once, but I’m still having dreams about how amazing the cupcake tasted that I scarfed.

Shifting the car into Park , I stare at the window. I can see movement inside of the shop. Watching for a moment, I can’t help but wonder what it’s like. The women behind the counter are laughing with huge smiles on their faces.

There is another woman sitting at a table. The three of them appear to be chatting. The two behind the counter keep looking over at the one at the table, their mouths moving as they converse. I can’t help but stare at the three of them.

I’ve never had a smile as easy as the way theirs appears. It seems as if they truly enjoy not only their environment but their lives. I’m not completely alone or anything. Not only do I have my secret lover, but I’ve also met a couple of the baristas at the coffee shop down the street, and they’re really nice. We have hung out a few times together, but something about these women hits differently.

Turning my car off, I open the door and make my way toward the bakery. I think I need a muffin or something. It’s not a want right now. I can’t afford wants. It’s a need. And that is what I tell myself over and over to justify my coming here.

Wrapping my fingers around the handle, I gently tug the door open. I can hear the women’s voices, but I don’t listen to what they’re saying exactly as the bell dings above my head, and I step through the doorway. As soon as they realize I’m here, their voices stop.

Two sets of eyeballs are focused on me from behind the counter. I try not to look between them, but my gaze flicks back and forth anyway between the women at the counter. I can feel someone looking at me from the side of the room as well. It’s the other woman sitting alone at the table.

“Can I help you?” one of them asks.

She is lean with long brown hair. It’s shiny with tons of body. She’s absolutely gorgeous. “I had a cupcake here once, and it was amazing,” I begin. “But I was wondering if you had any blueberry muffins?”

Her lips curve up into a smile. “How did you know?” she asks. “I just made some organic blueberry muffins. They’re grain and gluten-free, with organic coconut sugar and grass-fed butter.”

Heaven .

“That sounds amazing. I’ll take one.”

She flicks her gaze over my shoulder, winks, then clears her throat. “It’s on the house, as long as you’ll hang out with us for a little bit.”

I blink, unsure of why she’s just asked me. I stare at her for a moment, my eyes wide, and I’m unsure of how to respond to that. She laughs softly, shaking her head a couple of times before she reaches for a muffin from inside the case.

“Come on,” she says as she takes my muffin over to the table with the girl sitting alone.

She’s beautiful, and I’m sure I don’t know her, but she looks familiar. She lifts her hand, waving me over, and I make my way over to her table. As I sink down into the chair across from her, the brunette behind the counter sets the muffin in front of me and then brings a chair over to sit beside me. The other girl, who has been quiet the whole time, does the same on my other side.

I am so confused.

I don’t know what’s happening here.

I’m surrounded, and I’m not sure why. But I have a feeling they have a plan of some kind—I just don’t know what it is yet, but I’m about to find out.

CLINK

Staring at the ceiling, I realize that I haven’t slept even a single moment because I can’t get Vixen’s request out of my head. Her sister. Her sister is being trafficked, not against her will but with ill intentions and false hopes.

I didn’t even know she had a sister. I have to tell Atomic about it, or at least as much as I know about it. As our president, it’s his right to know. I won’t do shit behind his back, even if it means I’ve betrayed Vixen in some way. I don’t give a fuck. The club always comes first, and in this case, it’s no different.

When the sun rises, I decide I can’t lie in bed for another moment longer. I need to get up and talk to Atomic. Sitting up, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand. The scent of Dillion wafts past my nose. I didn’t shower last night when I came back from her place, and I can still smell her on me.

Fucking shit.

My cock twitches.

I can’t get enough of her. It’s not just the fact that I was in prison for three years, and the only thing I was fucking was my own hand. It’s her. Because I could fuck anyone, but there is only one her.

Reluctantly, I make my way to the bathroom and start the shower. The water is hot, the steam filling the room, making it feel almost like a sauna. Sucking in a deep breath, I step under the hot water and close my eyes as it washes over me.

The moment my eyes close, I see visions of her. Even though I can’t see her clearly when I slip into her bedroom at night, I know exactly what she looks like. Not only did I get pictures of her from Brew when I was locked up, but I’ve also been keeping a close eye on her when I’m not with her in her room in the dark.

Showering quickly, I try to shake thoughts of her out of my head. However, that’s becoming more difficult to do as each day passes. She’s mine, even if she doesn’t know it. Her body does. And I do. It’s about time for me to take what’s mine, no matter how much fun this shit is.

And it is fun.

It’s also easy.

From watching her, I know she’s not even looking at other men, let alone going home with any. And for the first time in my life, I’m monogamous as well. Going to her in the middle of the night, being with her, it’s fun.

Once I’ve dried off and dressed, I head toward the bar. I am not surprised to find a couple of bodies naked and passed out in various positions. Vixen is one of them. She’s completely naked, lying with her body draped across Guts. I chuckle at the sight of them as I step over them.

Moving down the hall, I don’t even have to knock. Atomic’s office door is wide open. Popping my head in, I ask if he’s busy. I know he likely is, but also that he’ll stop to talk to me.

“Come on in,” he murmurs, but it’s clear he’s doing something on his iPad. “You good?” he asks, not looking up.

Closing the door behind me, I lock it before I walk over to the chair that’s across from the desk. Sinking down in the cushion, I place my palms on the armrests and let out a heavy sigh.

Only then does Atomic lift his head, his eyes finding mine right before his brows snap together. “What’s wrong?” he demands.

He knows me just about as well as any of the men here. And he knows that I don’t just show up to shoot the shit. I’m here because there’s a problem, and there is that, indeed. So, I decide to just tell him what I know. All of it.

“Vixen came to me last night,” I begin. He continues to stare at me, waiting for me to continue. “She wants us to take her sister.”

“Take her sister?”

I hum. “Yeah, she’s signed a contract with the Southern Mafia. Vixen wants our help to get her out.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “I was hoping to never use that contract. I wanted to be done with them before that even became an issue.”

I don’t blame him. It’s a fucking crazy situation. “And what does she want us to do with her?” he asks, his voice laced with hesitation. I don’t blame him. I felt the same way, still feel it. The whole thing is bizarre. She’s never even mentioned a sister before now.

“She didn’t say in detail. Just that she wants us to take care of her.”

He shakes his head a couple of times. “About all I could offer would be to send her to Corpus to work at the strip club unless she wanted to stay here and be a clubwhore. Then, to that degree, what would be the fucking difference?”

Clearing my throat, I shrug a shoulder. “No fucking clue. I think she just doesn’t want her sister to be sent off, never to be heard of or seen again. I don’t know shit about their dynamics. I don’t know why she didn’t warn her off from signing anything. I don’t know a goddamn thing, except she asked me to help her out.”

“Thanks for that,” Atomic murmurs. “Have you thought about when you’re taking possession of your own woman?” he asks, changing the subject.

“I’m having fun with things as they are. Maybe after the wedding.” I shrug a shoulder.

Atomic chuckles, but thankfully, doesn’t give me any more shit than that about it. I leave the Vixen shit in his court and walk out of the office, then the bar, and toward my bike. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I need to take a ride.

My sister gets married in about seven months. I don’t know if I can continue this with Dillion for that long, but I have to admit that I’m having way too much fun at this point to stop. I know I’ll need to reveal myself soon enough… just not yet.