Chapter 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

brEW

Leaving the clubhouse, I know we’re going to handle shit in a few hours. A decision has been made, and we’re going to head out as soon as Atomic informs everyone else and gets the women on lockdown.

My woman included.

I have to get her to actually go to lockdown, though, which might be a fucking problem, considering she hated it back in the day—with a passion. And I can tell while some things have changed with her, not that much.

My woman.

Fuck.

Just thinking about her as mine makes my heart fucking squeeze inside of my chest. I cannot believe that she could actually be mine. Spencer is the one who got away because that’s what she needed, but I’ll never let it happen again.

I ride by the bakery to make sure she isn’t still there. Thankfully, everything seems to be locked up tight. As I continue toward the motel, I smile at the sight of her little Tesla parked in front of her room.

I walk up to her room. Atomic has already told me which one is hers. I lift my hand and knock on the door. I can hear some voices, recognizing them easily as the television playing and I smile as I wait for her.

The door flies open, and she stands in front of me, her eyes widening at the sight of me standing in front of her.

“You check your peephole?” I ask.

Her tongue peeks out and slides across her bottom lip. “No,” she snaps. “I heard a bike. I knew it was one of you.”

Shaking my head a couple of times, I clear my throat. “Babe,” I grind out. “What the fuck. I know without a doubt that Clink taught you better than that.”

She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, then steps to the side, allowing me to pass. I walk into her room then watch as she closes the door behind her but doesn’t lock it. Clearing my throat, I turn to face her, trying to keep my anger at bay, but she pisses me off.

Spencer is standing with her back against the door, and if I didn’t know better, I would think she’s scared of me in some way. Another thing that pisses me off.

“Wanted to talk to you about your brother. Don’t have specifics yet,” I begin.

She blinks a couple of times, clearing her throat, but I can tell she’s on the verge of tears. “He’s going to jail, isn’t he?”

I dip my chin slightly. I can’t stay away from her. Closing the distance between us, I cup her cheeks and lower my head, touching my forehead to hers. “He’s going to prison, beautiful.”

Her eyes slide closed, and I can feel the pain radiating from her body. I hate this shit. I wish I could take it away. I wish I could undo it. And whatever guilt had eased, it’s back now, in full force.

“I hate it,” she breathes.

Lifting my head, I look at her face and watch as she slowly opens her eyes. They find mine, but she doesn’t speak right away.

“Tell me the rest,” she eventually demands.

“The lawyer is going to try and get him into Texarkana so he’s close by. Not sure if the judge will agree, but that’s the hope. Also, hoping for a much-reduced sentence. But there are no promises.”

“Just hopes,” he exhales.

“Got something else,” I murmur.

Fuck me, but I do not want to tell her the next part. I do not think she’s going to take it well at all. I don’t remember much about her when she was younger, not really. I remember her, but as far as what she liked or disliked, I have no fucking clue. She wasn’t on my radar yet, not until that night, and then she left.

“More?” she asks.

“I need you to pack your shit and come to the clubhouse,” I say.

She blinks. Once, twice, three times as she stares at me. Then she presses her lips together, and her eyes narrow on me.

“Are you putting me under lockdown?” she sneers.

“Not a fan?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Spencer snorts. “No, I am not a fan. I won’t be doing it. I am not part of you people. I fucking refuse.”

I hum. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice, beautiful. But you don’t.”

Her eyes narrow further on me. I keep my hands cupping her cheeks as I look into her eyes, and I want nothing more than to kiss her right now—I want to devour her. Spencer is and always will be special.

“It’s for your safety. We’re going after the people who did what they did to Clink.”

“The police?” she asks on a whisper.

Chuckling, I shake my head a couple of times before I answer her. “I wish it were that easy. No, beautiful. The fuckers who are really behind Clink’s shit. The Southern Mafia.”

She doesn’t speak immediately. She watches me for a long moment. Then she clears her throat. “I don’t know who they are.”

“Good,” I bark. “And you don’t want to.”

Sliding one of my hands from her cheek to her throat, I curl my fingers around the front as I look into her eyes, my gaze staying connected to hers without breaking. Without looking away, because everything else in the entire fucking world completely vanishes.

There is just her and me. Nothing and nobody else matters—I don’t think they ever did.

Jesus Christ, but I want to fuck her right now. I want to taste her cunt. I want to feel her squeeze me, and I want to hear her scream my name. And I will. Soon enough.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she exhales.

“That they’re dangerous, and we’re going to make sure that this shit never happens again. Not to Clink, not to anyone. But in order for me to do that, I need to know that you’re safe.”

She presses her lips together, rolling them a few times as she stares into my eyes. I squeeze her throat once, then release the pressure but keep my hand on her flesh. “I need to know that you’re safe, Spencer.”

“Why?” she asks.

Leaning forward, I touch my lips to hers, but I don’t deepen the kiss. I keep my lips on hers, feeling her breath against my mouth.

“Because, Spencer, when I get done, I’m going to come back to the clubhouse. You’re going to be in my bed, and I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to kiss every inch of your body. I’m going to make you come with my mouth, and then I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

SPENCER

Oh. My. God.

That was the hottest speech I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I want to cry it was so good. But I can’t do that. I can’t show him how much he’s affected me, though if I had to guess, he already knows.

“Fine,” I say with shaky lips. “I’ll pack a bag.”

His lips twitch up into a smirk. He takes a step backward, wordlessly standing to the side of the room as he watches me. I roll my eyes to the ceiling and then begin to pack my things back into my bag.

I don’t know why I’m doing what I’m doing. I should just throw my shit into my car and start driving home. But I don’t. I want all of those things he promised. I want him to do them to me. To lick every square inch of my body, to make me come, to make me scream his name.

It’s been so long since someone touched any part of me that I might come at the first contact.

Why does the thought of that excite me? Coming at the first contact. Just the thought sends a shiver down my spine. I want him to make me come. I want to be with him. I feel like a teenager again, and then I inwardly chastise myself because I also feel stupid like I did back then.

By the time I finish packing, I have talked myself out of everything. I need to get the hell out of here and go back to my life. I should find a sweet man who is going to take care of me and treat me with the utmost respect.

But then, when I lift my gaze to the man standing across the room, my thighs tremble. I don’t think a nice guy is going to do. I may need someone sweet, but I want that man across from me. I want him to pick me up and taste me.

I want him to use me, to fuck me—to own me.

Zipping up my bag, I start to take it off the bed, but Brew reaches for it and tugs it off for me. Swallowing hard, I look up at him, my eyes finding his before I speak. I’m not sure why I say what I do next. I don’t believe the words, so I’m not sure he will either.

“I think I should go home.”

Brew smirks, obviously believing as much as I thought he would of that single sentence—which is nothing. He sets my bag to the side before he crowds me again.

I have to admit that I like it when he does that—crowds me. In fact, I want more of it. But that doesn’t stop me from backing away from him out of natural instinct. I want him closer, but I’m also scared to death of not him but myself when he gets there.

My back hits the wall at the same time he lifts his hands and slams them on the wall beside my head. My lips part as I stare up at him, wondering what he’s going to say or do next. I’m not sure what I expect. No, that’s a lie I tell myself. I expect him to kiss me. I want it—crave it.

And I know I shouldn’t.

“You’re right. You should go home,” he hisses, his mouth dangerously close to mine.

I open my mouth to say something, but then he starts to talk before I can get a word out, although I don’t know what exactly I had planned on saying, so that’s okay.

“But not Austin,” he grunts. “This is your home, Spencer,” Brew murmurs, his voice dropping to a dangerously sexy tone and rumble that I don’t think I could ever forget, not in a hundred years. “It’s always been your home. It will always be your home, and now it’s time to come back.”

I want to tell him to fuck off, to go away, and ask him why he gives a shit about any of this. It’s not like we had a real relationship. We had an encounter, and I was embarrassingly stupid about the whole thing. It makes me wince and cringe just thinking about it.

But I don’t, because I want to be here. With him. With Humble. As much as I have distanced myself from this place and these people, I am at ease with them all. They are still the only family I have—that I will probably ever have.

I blink away the tears, trying to keep from crying, but they roll down my cheeks anyway. Searching his gaze with my own, I can’t stop myself—my emotions. Brew lifts his hand from the wall and glides the backs of his fingers down my cheek.

“Come home, beautiful.”

Home.

Come home.

This may be my home, but I have nowhere to go here. And as much as I want to make people believe that I’ve done spectacularly for myself, I don’t have a healthy savings account by any means.

Even if I found a decent place to rent here, there’s no way I could afford the first and last month’s rent, plus a deposit. And then there’s the fact that this area is not really equipped for my car.

There are so many factors against me coming back here. Except here is where Humble will be, where Brew is, and where I wish my future could take me.