Chapter 8 - Ares

8

Ares

I want you to kill my father.

Her words rattle around inside my head. There’s no way she just said that, right? There’s no way she just asked the Prez of the Wastelanders to kill the goddamned Sheriff. The rest of the guys can’t quite believe it, either. Reaper — who had been settled back in his chair — slowly sits up straight.

“Griff…” he rumbles warningly, but Griff waves him off.

“Everybody out.”

He’s not actually fucking considering this?

Delaney just stands there. Her palms are pressed against her thighs to stop herself from trembling. I see it, though. A tiny quake knocking her knees together. The girl is in way over her head and, for some reason, it makes me furious. I want to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze. What the fuck was she thinking?

“Out!”

Chairs scrape, boots stomp. Rev is out the door first, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

“Girl’s fucked,” I hear him mutter to another officer.

He’s probably right — and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I sigh heavily and push off the wall.

“Not you, Ares. Or you, Reaper.”

Shit.

I turn back. Reaper throws me a glance. To anybody else, it would look casual, but I know Reaper. Worked alongside him. He’s worried too. As the two club enforcers, if Griff wanted to give in to Delaney’s request, we’d be the ones tasked with taking Sheriff Jackson out. Not that he’d agree. There’s too much risk to the club. But maybe…

A dark thought hits me.

What if Griff wants us to get rid of Delaney instead?

The door groans closed and the latch clicks home, leaving just the four of us. Three wolves and a lost little lamb.

“W-well,” Delaney starts, her voice shaking. She’s losing bravado by the second. “Do we have a deal?”

“Take off your shirt.”

Delaney lurches back, her hand flying to the hem of her hoodie. She grips it tight.

“What?”

Griff sneers. “I know all about you, girly. Always on the outs with daddy dearest. This wouldn’t be your way of trying to get on his good side, would it? Coming into my club, my home, strapped with a wire and a plan to take us Wastelanders down? I’m sure daddy would love you for that.”

Delaney looks like she’s going to be sick. After a moment, her features harden.

“I would never do that prick a favor,” she spits. “I’m coming to you because—”

“Ares!” Griff barks.

I lunge forward. Delaney squeals as I grab her arms and spin her to face me. She struggles, but it’s like a butterfly flapping its wings, trying to fight me off. Not gonna happen.

I lean down to get close to her ear. “Calm down,” I grunt, as she tries to twist her knee up into my groin. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

She stills. Or at least goes as still as her trembling body will allow. Her eyes are big and shining, glassy with fear. I drag the hoodie over her head. A thin tank top peels off with it and she’s left in a thread-bare bra. For a few seconds, she stays pressed up against me like that — chest heaving, clammy skin radiating warmth through my own shirt. Her green eyes are accusing. Like she’s cursing me, like she thinks I’m enjoying this.

But I am. Maybe. My heart has picked up, my blood is pumping, and my cock… Is definitely harder than it should be right now. I clench my jaw, steeling myself, and spin her around to face Griff. I yank Delaney tight to my front, bracing my arm over her chest. Right below the swell of her tits.

Delaney has grown up a lot since I last saw her up close. Over the years, I’ve caught brief glimpses of the kid I knew better than to interact with again, but she’s not a kid anymore. The gangly, buck-toothed thing with eyes too big for her head is now eighteen with hips, tits, and an ass.

“Get off me,” she says after a moment, and bucks back into me. Only it just pushes her ass against my crotch. I suppress a groan. I think she can feel me, big and hard, and her breath catches in her throat. I feel sick. The last thing I ever wanted was to be attracted to Delaney Jackson.

“Well, no wire,” mutters Griff, not caring one little bit about the show in front of him. “But that doesn’t mean you’re on the level.”

“I… I am,” Delaney says, her voice fluttering. “I… I need you to do this. It’s important.”

“Griff.”

Reaper speaks, finally, and he jerks his head to the main doors. He wants a word, probably to convince Griff to just kick her out. She’s a nuisance , I imagine him saying. A dumb kid. Kick her out and forget all about this.

Reaper’s got a kid of his own, a niece about Delaney’s age. She’s a spit-fire, too. He can probably see a bit of Jane in the girl standing in front of him. Griff sighs deeply, then stands, scraping the chair back.

“Don’t let her out of your fucking sight,” he says, the annoyance at the whole situation coming through clear. Moments later, Griff and Reaper are gone and it’s just me… and her.

A shudder runs through Delaney’s body, vibrating through my own and I realize I’m still holding her. Still pressing her against me, feeling the heat of her leech through my clothes and right down to my bones. I drop my arm from across her chest and step back. Immediately, Delaney darts away, grabs her shirt and hoodie and tugs them back on.

“You’re an ass,” she mutters under her breath. When she turns to me, her cheeks are burning red and her eyes… Her eyes are wild. Angry.

“And you’re a fucking idiot,” I reply with a scoff. “What the hell are you doing here, kid?”

“First of all, not a kid. Second, I already told you. I want you to—”

“Kill Sheriff Jackson, yeah, yeah.”

Fuck, I need a smoke. And another shot of tequila. Possibly two. I take a deep breath and pull my hand through my hair.

“You know not every MC is full of assassins for hire, right? We got our own shit to worry about without taking murder requests from little girls with daddy issues.”

Delaney presses her lips into a tight line and she takes a defiant step closer. She’s taller now, obviously, and the top of her head comes just past my chin. She tilts her head just so, the perfect angle for me to duck down and capture her lips with mine. Disgust churns through me, though I keep my face still as stone. It must be the drink making me feel like this. The leftover buzz of tequila making my blood hot for a good fuck and not her, specifically. The little girl who snuck into my yard, who barged into my house all those years ago and turned my life into a living hell.

“What happened to you, Ares?” she asks.

I blink, surprised. That’s not what I was expecting her to say.

Suddenly, there’s a clamoring from outside. I whip around, tucking Delaney behind me. My hand goes instinctively to the gun in the back of my jeans. The door to the meeting room flies open and Rev is there.

“What’s—” But I don’t get a chance to finish. He strides through the room, swipes the bricks of coke off the table and shoves them into Delaney’s backpack, then throws the backpack at me.

“Some prick deputy’s here, looking for her,” he says.

Delaney goes pale. “What? No, but— How did they—”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” I snap at her. I look back to Rev. “What’s the play?”

“Griff’s keeping him busy,” he says. “But you gotta get her outta here. Take her to the safe house. Wait for orders.”

I nod, but my head is swirling. A deputy just rolled up on our compound like it was nothing, all while we’ve got stolen drugs and the Sheriff’s daughter. Images flash back to me, of deputies searching my house for the very same little girl, of the night my whole life turned to shit.

“Well? Fucking go!” yells Rev, halfway to the door. I snap out of it and grab Delaney’s arm. She tries to jerk away.

“I’m not going anywhere with—”

“Look, you little shit,” I say, turning on her with a snarl. “I’m not doing this again. You come with me now, or I knock you the fuck out and carry you, got it?”

She glares. A dagger-like, defying glare that pierces something deep inside me. But I know she’s listening.

“Good. Let’s go,” I mutter. I shove her backpack into her arms, then yank her out of the meeting room and down the hall.

I never should have left my room tonight, that’s for sure.