Chapter 6

CHAPTER

SIX

DILLION

As I leave the grocery store, I can’t help but wonder who else knows who I am. What if the girls at the bakery know? Shaking my head, I decide they wouldn’t be so nice to me if they did.

Glancing at the clock on my dash, I close my eyes slowly before I open them again. It’s only noon. I have three more hours before I have to be at Sal’s Bar. I don’t want to go home and sit in that house by myself.

I’m hungry, and I’m tired.

But most importantly, I need to be around people. The only people I have enjoyed being close to so far are the women at the bakery.

I’m supposed to meet the girls tonight, although I have no idea where or what time. Maybe I shouldn’t see them. It’s too much. I don’t think they really want me to go. They were just being nice.

I talk myself out of going. I should stay home and think about my future. My life. And figure out if this is where I want to stay. I don’t go to the bakery. Instead, I head to the coffee shop. I know a few of the girls working there, and I can hang out. They’ll let me stay until my interview.

Maybe it’s not an interview.

Maybe it’s more of a meeting. I don’t know. He claims he’s going to size me up, and I have no idea what that means.

At this point, I don’t care.

None of it matters.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay here.

My family has fucked me over yet again.

What’s new, though? I should have known that my brother’s home wouldn’t be safe from his filth, from his reach. It’s spread far and wide, just like my father and grandfather. So fucking far and wide.

Looking down at my phone, I decide to sell the house. Secret lover and hot biker or not, I think this isn’t the place for me. I don’t want to live somewhere I’m tainted. I’m going to pack up and move somewhere else.

Maybe out west.

Maybe the beach.

Somewhere where I’m just a face in the crowd. A stranger. Not who I am here in Pineville. Not who I am in Shreveport. Not who I am in general. I don’t want to be myself. Not anymore. I want to be someone else.

I want to be Dillion. Just Dillion.

Not Albert’s sister, not Albert Senior’s granddaughter.

I don’t want to be affiliated with the Southern Mafia. I just want to live my life—a good, clean life—and I won’t get that anywhere near here. I need to go. Finding a realtor’s name, I touch the call icon and wait for the phone to ring.

When she answers, I tell her where my house is and that I would like to list it for sale. I don’t even ask how much for. I just tell her to send me the paperwork, and I’ll sign it immediately. I just want it gone.

I’m sure I’m being a bit over the top about it, maybe pulling the trigger a bit too soon, but I don’t think I care. This isn’t the place for me. I thought I could make it work with a free house and a man who worships my body several nights a week.

But I can’t.

In the daylight, this just isn’t the place for me. I don’t want to be known. I don’t want to be Albert’s sister. I don’t want to be anyone. I want to be invisible—forever.

The agent ends the call, and a few minutes later, I have an email in my inbox. Then another. There are a few different forms to fill out. I should sign them immediately, but I don’t. My alarm goes off, and it’s time for me to head to Sal’s. Leaving the emails in my inbox, I decide to get to the bar.

Gathering my things, I make my way straight toward the bar. There are two cars in the parking lot now. I inhale a deep breath and then let it out slowly before I thrust the car door open.

The heat hits me instantly. I try to breathe, but the air is so thick that it feels like I’m breathing honey. Each step I take toward the bar feels as if I’m moving through thick gel. My knees tremble, and my whole body quakes as I reach the front door.

Wrapping my fingers around the handle, I gently tug the door open and force myself into the bar. It’s small, much smaller than it looks from the outside. There are several hallways toward the back, and I wonder if they lead to other parts of the building because there is no way this one room is the entire building.

Shifting my gaze around, I try to find the owner of the voice I called earlier, but the entire bar is empty. Slowly, I walk through the building. I head toward the first hallway, which is on the left.

Before I reach the hall, a man appears from the dark. I jump back slightly, surprised by his sudden presence. He’s shorter, portly, older, and wears a huge smile.

“You must be the girl who called earlier,” he announces.

“I am,” I whisper.

His eyes scan my entire body, indeed sizing me up just like he said he would. “You would be great on stage, but I can tell you would be too nervous,” he announces.

I blink, staring at him, unsure of what to say. I don’t know how to respond to that. Not only would I be too nervous, but I would probably just cry up there. I don’t do well with a lot of attention focused on me. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m going to stay here, but I do need a little money to get me through whatever transition I decide on.

“You know anything about waitressing and gambling?” he asks.

Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times before I clear my throat. “I know a little about both.”

It’s the truth. I know how to give men drinks and smile, and I know how to play cards. I don’t like to play cards, and I don’t practice or even attempt to play, but I know how. He jerks his chin as if he’s making a decision.

“You got any tight black dresses?”

“Two,” I confess.

Although, I’m not sure why I’ve kept them. They’re from my life with my family, my past, the person I don’t ever want to be again. But they hang in the back of my closet, mainly as reminders of what never to allow myself to be again.

“Put one on and show up tomorrow at five in the evening. Let me get you a packet to fill out.”

And that is that. I am hired at Sal’s Bar. He doesn’t give me a tour. He tells me to go down the hallway to the left and nowhere else when I arrive tomorrow. I’m good with that. I’m sure that the strip club is to the right, and I have no desire to head in that direction.

Leaving the bar, I climb into my car and head back to my house to fill out the paperwork, which isn’t much. Just all my personal information so I can get paid. Which is important. Because I'm doing this for the sole purpose of getting paid.

CLINK

“We still having the party tonight?” I ask, thinking of Dillion.

It doesn’t matter that I fucked her last night. I want her again. I would fuck her right here and now in the middle of the conference table for everyone to watch. I don’t give a shit. I need her that damn badly. I’m addicted to every ounce of her. The sight of her, the way she smells, tastes, and feels. I can’t get enough of her.

“Yeah,” Atomic grunts. “Farewell party, because we’re leaving Sunday night. Midnight ride to those fucks and surprise the goddamn shit out of them.”

I like the sound of that. Plus, it’s too goddamn hot to ride all day long. We aren’t going for pleasure, and this isn’t some cruise through the piney woods to Tennessee. This is war, and we need to be at the top of our game.

Glancing down at my phone, I smirk at the time. The party is soon. Everyone else must realize it, too, because we disband and head our separate ways. I leave the room, not wishing to talk to anyone.

Instead, I go to my room, grab my things, and take a shower. As much as I don’t want to wash the scent of Dillion from my body, I know it will be right back there soon, within the next few hours.

Once I’m dressed and ready, I grab my phone and start to shove it inside of my cut pocket when I feel it buzz. Looking down at the screen, I frown at the sight of the text. It’s from my sister, Spencer.

SPENCER: We can’t find her. I thought she would just meet us at the bakery, but I guess we never told her what time, and I don’t have her number.

I don’t even have to ask her who she is. I already know that she’s referring to Dillion. I chew on the corner of my bottom lip, trying to think of a way to get her here without going and picking her up my fucking self. Because I’m about ready to end this game and do just that.

GO TO HER HOUSE.

They can skirt the fact that they have her address. They’re women, and they can pretty much talk around anything. Sending Spencer her address, I wait for her response.

SPENCER: And I’m supposed to just show up? What are we going to tell her?

DON’T KNOW. YOU’LL FIGURE IT OUT.

SPENCER: You’re a dick.

GOT A BIG ONE.

SPENCER: Gross.

With a smirk, I shove my phone into my pocket and walk toward the bar. I need to smoke a blunt, take a few shots, and chill the fuck out. That’s exactly what I do. The music is low right now, but I know in a few hours, it’s going to pulsate throughout this entire bar. I also know that by that time, I’ll be upstairs pulsating inside of Dillion.

Gnaw slides up beside me, clearing his throat when he does. Looking over at him, I arch a brow. He doesn’t say anything, staring straight ahead before he finally speaks. “You finally laying claim?”

“Already did that shit,” I bark.

“Except she doesn’t know it yet,” he mutters.

“True.”

I can’t deny his words. I haven’t claimed her in the light. I’m going to do that tonight and end this shit… when I get back from Knoxville. The fact that I have to fucking go to Knoxville is a goddamn nightmare in itself.

“She gonna know anytime soon?” Gnaw asks.

With a grunt, I stand up from the bar. “Tonight,” I state right as the door opens, and I watch her walk through the door.

Dillion looks sexy as fuck. She’s wearing a pair of black short shorts and a T-shirt with a low neckline that shows off her cleavage. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and she looks fucking beautiful.

I watch as her eyes widen. She takes in the club. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but I know what she sees could be considered scary. Not everyone has been around a group or environment quite like ours before.

Although her eyes widen, she doesn’t appear to be scared in any way. I could play it even cooler than I already have been doing, but I decide against it. We leave for war tomorrow night, and there is no way I’m wasting another second. Not when I could be inside of her even longer.

Stepping in front of her, I watch as she slowly tilts her head backward. Her eyes find mine, and that’s when the expression of complete awe and shock crosses her features. Lifting my hand, I touch her chin.

“You came.”

“Yeah,” she exhales.