CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Maisy

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Maisy

Mad Bell loved this place. This was his sanctuary. His happiness.

So it was weird that he'd missed two days in a row. The whole time I'd worked here, he'd never called out. Hell, he'd never been late, and he often stayed past when he was scheduled to leave. I was pretty sure it was a running joke around the place about the "one time" he'd called out, stating he'd had the flu in the worst way. Glad I wasn't here for that.

It was hard not to think he was maybe avoiding me. That somehow he'd grown psychic powers overnight and knew I was coming to talk to him, and he'd been hiding from me for the last two days.

Okay, I was clearly losing it. The thing was, holding all of this in was starting to get to me and with Mad Bell oddly missing work, I couldn't help but think it had to do with me. The worst things came to mind. Like, he had regrets but didn't know how to deal with it. He wanted to fire me because he couldn't stand working with me, only he didn't know how to go about doing that without having some kind of legal ramifications. I sure as hell wouldn't let that shit slide and he knew it. I kept thinking about how he was avoiding me. At one point, I even had him taking off for the other coast to get away from me.

I knew I was being over the top and dramatic. I hated that I'd let myself get this way.

There could have been a million reasons why he was missing work. Maybe he broke his ankle and no one told me. Maybe he came down with the flu again or food poisoning. Maybe he was just burned out and needed a break, which made sense because he was here just about every day.

Yeah, we slept together once. It was amazing. But we should have been able to talk about it like adults and either get on the same page or move on.

Sure, I might need a little time to shake off the feelings that had started to develop, but I could do it.

It would be a great start if I could clear the air first.

Even my thoughts sounded bitter and pissy.

"You done?" the prospect asked me as I tapped the screen to clock out.

"Yeah," I said as I wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. I really needed a shower. "Have a good night."

I didn't make it two steps before I turned back around.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to go back to the compound to check on Mad Bell?" I cringed slightly after the question was out. If he was really sick and didn't want to see anyone, I sure as hell didn't want to mess with him. But I couldn't stop the worry that sat in my gut. Sure, maybe a small part of it was selfish. Maybe there was a tiny part of me that wondered if the night we shared had changed anything between us. Wondered if he was hiding how he truly felt. What if I messed everything up by leaving? What if that was exactly what he'd wanted?

Ugh! This was why I needed to talk to him. I couldn't go on like this.

Communication was seriously the key to everything.

I supposed it said enough that we couldn't do that. A conversation? Please! We couldn't have one of those. I'd talk and he'd grunt, and we wouldn't get anywhere.

See, it never would have worked out anyway.

I might as well let it go and keep him as work-time entertainment.

"You could, but he won't be there, so it wouldn't matter anyway," Wrench said as he leaned over the bar, opened the cooler, and pulled out a bottle of beer. He eyed me as he flicked the cap off, not caring that it landed somewhere on the floor.

"Oh, well, in that case…" I turned to flee, feeling stupid that I'd even opened my mouth.

"You could check his house," Payback said, causing me to pause. Then I slowly pivoted back around on the balls of my feet. I stared at him as I tried to work out what was going on. Why was he helping me? I felt like all eyes were on me.

"And why would I do that?" Each word came out as if it were trying to make a point. Or maybe cover up something.

"Because… you're the closest thing to a friend he has outside of us." I blinked at Bandit, unsure how to take that.

Were we friends? Not really. Except that maybe we had kind of crossed over that line. I cared enough about him to be worried that he hadn't shown up. It was enough that I had contemplated going to check on him to actually make sure he was okay. Enough that I was pushing to go see him now.

I was still worried but at least I had the approval of the club. They seemed just as worried as I was. I wasn't sure what to do with that, but I knew I shouldn't turn my back on it. As much as I didn't exactly feel a part of the big club family, I didn't feel like I was excluded either. They'd taken care of me. It wasn't just about having a job and a good work environment. It wasn't only about coming in, doing my job, then going home. If I had a problem, they were there to back me up.

Hell, the night my dad and brother showed up, the President even came out. Sure, there were cops in his bar and he probably wanted to keep an eye on the situation, maybe even make them feel uncomfortable for clearly being in a place they weren't really welcome, but once he realized how unhappy it made me that they'd shown up at my work, LT was supportive in a way that I never expected. I wished I hadn't been so fixated on how pissed I was at my family to see it that night. It hit me later, but by then I felt it was too late to say thanks.

"Also, we're super worried about him," Payback added, and coming from him, I believed it. The rest of them? I figured were hoping for some juicy gossip. I couldn't imagine that there was anything club-grapevine-worthy, and even if there was… would I come back and tell?

I blinked back into focus when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Payback sent me a genuine smile as he set his phone on the smooth wood surface of the bar.

My hand shook as I pulled out my phone and unlocked the screen. I now had Mad Bell's address whether I wanted it or not.

With a nod, I turned and left the bar.

It only took me eight minutes of sitting in my car to decide if I was going to go full stalker or not.

I'm just going to check and make sure he's not dying on the floor. Oh, and get some answers. That's all. Then I'll be on my way.

I rolled up to a cute one-story brick house. The front door was a dusty blue, and it had shutters that matched. Not what I would have pictured for Mad Bell.

After I put the car in park and killed the engine, I sat there for a few minutes. Was I really doing this? And why? What exactly was the point of me coming here?

"Just do it," I muttered to myself, pushing open the car door.

I climbed the three steps that led to the front door at a turtle's pace. It felt like it took ages for my finger to meet the round button of the doorbell. Oh yeah, I was holding my breath.

The door pulled open so fast I felt the breeze it created.

I expected to see something along the lines of Mad Bell disheveled. Maybe dark circles under his eyes. A runny nose. Or perhaps even looking pale and like he was on the verge of greeting death. Hell, wouldn't have even been surprised if I found a Mad Bell that was fresh as a daisy, looking like he'd just showered— now that was an image.

But what I absolutely, unequivocally did not expect to find was a five-foot-five package of a woman who looked like she was ready to claw me to shreds.

"Can I help you?" she asked. She planted a hand on her cocked hip. The message was clear, and I took a step back because I did not want to deal with whatever the fuck this was.

I was stuck in a state of shock. No thoughts were going through my head at the moment.

She stepped out, looking over her shoulder before carefully closing the door behind her. Then she pointed a finger at me, nearly poking me in the chest. I think she would have if I hadn't taken another step back. I stumbled, almost tripping down the first step.

"Listen," she said, venom in her tone, "I'm his wife. And he doesn't need you snaky club sluts coming around here." She reached out and wrapped a hand around my arm, nails digging into my skin to the point I felt the bite of them. She managed to drag me down the three steps before I planted my feet and brought us to a halt. "This is my house. He is my man. And I won't deal with you trying to put your whore hands all over him. Got me?"

"Rhonda!" Mad Bell barked, causing both of us to snap our attention his way. His eyes had dark circles under them, leaving me to think he hadn't slept. His chest heaved, and the look on his face was menacing, almost terrifying. But for what? I had no clue. He rushed down the stairs and put himself between me and… his wife, his back to me.

What the fuck? His wife?! Was this shit for real?

No. Nope. I did not need this kind of drama in my life.

I was no longer shocked stupid. I was pissed. He made a cheater out of me and I had no fucking clue!

The inner bitch inside me itched to slap him. He deserved that and a fuck of a lot more.

"Don't touch her," he told his woman. I didn't miss the deadly edge in his tone. "You don't ever fuckin' touch her. Don't fuckin' talk to her. Get your ass back in the house." She didn't move. I almost wished his body wasn't blocking the view because I wanted to see her expression. I'd seen him pissed to the extreme before, mostly that was because of something I did, but I'd never felt a rage like this coming from him. I'd never heard a tone like this from him. "Now!"

Even I flinched as he roared and it wasn't aimed at me.

I might have found it a bit hot, inappropriately so.

Wait.

He wasn't roaring at me. His back was to me as if he were standing like a shield in front of me… to protect me.

As this hit me, I lost my breath. I didn't know what it meant and I wasn't sure I liked the feeling twisting up my gut. This wasn't right. She was his wife. His. Wife. He shouldn't have been protecting me— you know, the mistress— from her.

Ew. The thought nearly had me throwing up. I was the other woman .

I took a step back, ready to run but not quite able to. But there was something keeping me here, stuck in a hell of my own making. I never asked. Never even thought to ask, to be honest, but that didn't excuse the fact that…

A car came to a stop on the side of the road, pulling my attention. The door opened and out stepped a kid who couldn't have graduated high school that long ago. He held a pizza, looking nervously at the scene before him.

"Uh…" he said, not making a move to come closer. "Someone order a pizza?" He held up the box.

"Just set it down on the ground and go," Mad Bell growled over his shoulder. "House, Rhonda. I'm done playing with you."

The car behind us sped off. I didn't look to see where the pizza landed.

Rhonda, the wife , huffed before turning around and walking up the stairs and into the house. The door slammed shut a second later.

"Maze," he said as he whirled on me. His hands went out like he wanted to touch me but didn't dare to. "Listen, I know this—"

"No," I wheezed out. My chest heaved as I took a step back. My hands went up, reinforcing the walls of my imaginary bubble. "I don't… I can't." I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts together. When I looked up and met his eyes, I saw the pain and frustration there. But I couldn't be a part of this. "I need to go."

He opened his mouth, but the last thing I wanted to hear was anything that came out of him.

"Don't," I said as I turned and hightailed it to my car.

I was in it and reversing out of the driveway in no time. He took a few steps in my direction, and for a second, I was scared he was going to actually chase me down while I drove off.

"So stupid," I whispered to the interior of my car as I glanced in my rearview mirror to see him standing in the road, watching me go. "So, so stupid."