Chapter 22

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

SPENCER

The woman sits across from me. I don’t know her name and don’t care to know it. She doesn’t seem to care too much about me, either. I’m good with that. Her slim fingers wrap around the coffee cup that I’ve given her, and I watch as her black-painted nails tap the ceramic.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I want to rip the cup from her hands and smash it into a million pieces. Unnecessary noises bother me, or maybe it’s because they’re coming from this woman, and I am jealous as hell. I am not stupid. I have known that Evan was with other women. His life, his world, that’s just the way things are.

But this is a level that I was absolutely not prepared for. This isn’t some clubwhore down at the clubhouse. This is different. She knows where his cabin is. A cabin that he told me he didn’t bring women back to.

What feels like an hour later but was probably only a few minutes, Gnaw throws the cabin’s front door open and marches inside. I can see Guts behind him, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“What the fuck?” the woman sneers.

Gnaw moves around the kitchen and stands directly in front of her. He crosses his arms over his chest, looking down his nose at her, and narrows his eyes. If looks could kill, this woman would be six feet under immediately.

“I could ask the same thing. What the fuck are you doing here harassing Spencer this way?” he asks.

Oh God. He knows her.

My heart slams against my chest as my gaze flicks between them. I want to laugh and cry simultaneously. I feel like an idiot. This was all bullshit. This was all Dark Horse MC bullshit, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I fell for him.

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice low.

“I already told you,” she grinds out. “I’m the girl who’s been fucking Brew for a decade. Now why the absolute fuck are you here?”

I can’t hear her say that again. I start to lift my hands to my ears when Gnaw speaks again, and I freeze.

“Bitch. I know who you are. Take your slut ass home. Brew can deal with you when he gets back.”

I’m going to be sick.

I’m going to puke everywhere.

At the thought of her going anywhere and waiting for Brew, tears well in my eyes. I try to blink them away because I will be damned if this woman sees me shed a single one.

She stands, the chair scraping across the hardwood floor, and I shift my gaze to hers. She wears a shit-eating grin and leans forward. I watch as she lifts one of her sharp, painted nails and points it just a few inches from my face.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” she asks.

“Get the fuck out, bitch,” Gnaw grinds out.

She lets out a cackle that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She spins around, and then I watch as she swings her hips from side to side as she walks out of the cabin and down the steps of the front porch.

Gnaw follows her, leaving me alone in the cabin.

Alone and heartbroken.

I don’t move. I can’t. I am completely and totally frozen solid. I physically cannot move. I can’t think, and I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to even think. I stare at the open door. Then I hear tires spin and gravel being kicked and thrown around the driveway.

A few moments later, after some hushed conversation somewhere in the distance, Gnaw and Guts both appear in front of me. It’s Gnaw who sinks down to his haunches and lifts his hand. I feel the backs of his fingers slide down my cheek, and it’s then I realize I am crying.

“I’m so embarrassed,” I whisper.

He chuckles. “Don’t be, not fucking ever, babe. You wanna be with your girls?” he asks, his voice soft and hushed, soothing, like he’s speaking to a spooked animal. Aren’t I just that, though? I mean, humans are animals, and right now, I feel extremely spooked.

“I think,” I whisper. “I think I would like to go home now.”

My words sound robotic. Gnaw flicks his gaze to the side, and I have to assume that Guts is standing there. They share a look, but I don’t care what it is. All I want to do is get out of here, not just this cabin, but all of Pineville.

I will happily live alone in peace and drive the six hours to see my brother in prison. I will live alone the rest of my life, having loved and been burned by this man twice, rather than stay here and be lied to—be made a fool of.

The last thing I want to be is made to look a damn fool or, worse, have other people pity me. And I know that the other old ladies would. There is no way whatsoever that any of those women would look at me and not feel sadness and pity for me if I turned a blind eye to this woman.

Fuck that, and fuck Evan.

I am going home.

Once my car is charged.

brEW

As if summoned, which I’m sure they were, I’m just not sure how or when, ten women make their way into the room. They are wearing barely-there strips of fabric that are supposed to be dresses, along with sky-high heels on their feet. They also stand in front of us, looking straight ahead, almost as if they see nothing. They are props, nothing else. Not breathing humans.

“What is this opportunity?” Atomic asks, ignoring all of the girls who stand in front of us.

He would ignore them anyway, even if they were standing in front of him completely naked. He has his woman, and she is the only one he wants to see naked. I understand that now. When he and Ryan got together, I said I would never follow suit, yet here I am.

Completely head over heels for Spencer. I feel zero desire for any of the girls in front of me. Even if they weren’t totally fucking brainwashed, I couldn’t do a damn thing with them, not with Spencer waiting back at the cabin for me.

“The opportunity stands in front of you. We need girls… well, women,” he amends, but I am not stupid. The women standing in front of us are young, too young, likely girls, or at least they were when they arrived in Conrad’s stable. Because he is very much a pimp and running a whole fucking nationwide operation.

“We do not deal with skin,” Atomic announces. “Ever.”

Conrad smiles before he chuckles. He shakes his head, the expression on his face one of amusement. Almost as if he finds it highly funny that we would think he wanted us to be part of his little operation.

“I’m not asking you for anything other than an escort through Louisiana.”

Atomic appears confused, and I know I probably look the same way. I am confused as fuck by the suggestion.

“What are you asking exactly?” Atomic growls, his patience having been gone for a while.

This whole fucking thing is exhausting. Not just the fact that we had to ride halfway across the whole-ass United States, but this meeting, too. These people are fucking ridiculous. And this has been a waste of my time and everyone else’s who rode with us. Not to mention the backup that’s hanging around somewhere outside the property.

“I need men to go with the trucks through the state and ensure that it crosses state lines,” Conrad says.

This time, it’s Nash who responds instead of Atomic. And when he does, his voice is completely without patience. It has flown out of the goddamn window. I almost laugh because it’s fucking great. Atomic is fucking pissed, and I don’t blame him because this is just so goddamn ridiculous.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Nash growls. “Your people had enough pull with the feds to get our man thrown in fucking prison. And yet you come to us for protection? You have got to be fucking shitting me,” he barks.

Conrad smirks. My shoulder jerks and I have to hold myself back. I don’t know if I’ve ever practiced so much control in all of my goddamn life as I do at this moment. I want to beat the absolute fuck out of all of these people and ask questions later. I am so over this shit, and this question is absolutely absurd.

“Well, since you got rid of our contract in Louisiana, I don’t think we have any more options there. But we would be willing to pay you healthily.”

“Again, are you shitting me?” Nash growls. “What is your endgame?”

Because there is an endgame. This is a chess move, and Nash knows it just as much as anyone else standing in this room listening to this bullshit.

Conrad sighs as if he’s over this whole conversation and he’s actually quite bored. I don’t blame him because I’m seriously over it as well. I almost wonder if they are in trouble as an organization and this is their way to attempt to save themselves.

“So, who else did Albert and his people piss off?” King asks. He is thinking along the same lines that I am.

Conrad has the good sense to shift his gaze away, then slowly brings it back to meet King’s before he flicks it to Atomic and finally lands his attention on Nash. Clearing his throat, he jerks his chin.

“I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, it severed the relationship the Southern Mafia had with the Louisiana Highway Commission.”

I can’t stay quiet. “And you think we’re going to be the ones to help with that?” I ask. “Are you high?”

Conrad hums. “You will do it.”

“Sounds like a threat,” I grind out.

He shakes his head before he speaks. “Just a promise,” he murmurs. “We have the feds in our pockets still, which is how your man got fucked over by Albert. You have the highway commission. Let’s just make this a good deal and work with one another.”

“What’s in it for us?” Atomic asks. “Because it better be seriously fucking lucrative.”

I cannot believe he’s even entertaining this.

Fuck the highway commission.

I’ll find a different route somewhere else. Fuck all of this . Every single fucking second of it. Fuck it all.

In fact, I open my mouth to say just that. I’m ready to pull my piece and just start going down the line. If I die, I fucking die at this point. I don’t care anymore. This entire goddamn thing is beyond ridiculous, and I don’t want any goddamn part of it.

Atomic jerks his chin toward the asshole himself, Conrad. “Let me discuss this with my men, but first, I want your terms,” he grinds out. “In writing,” he adds.

Conrad keeps his stupid fucking smirk planted on his lips. I want to slap it the fuck off him. I just might before this trip is finished. I am so ready to be done with it all. I should have never come.

I should have stayed the fuck home with my woman. I would have been better off there. I’m fairly certain that I will always be better off buried inside of my woman, though. No matter the situation.