Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

AELLA

W hen we pull into the clubhouse, bikes and cars are everywhere—music blasts from the clubhouse, where the five bays are open. Bikers are spread across the property, some leaning against motorcycles with women between their thighs, some playing pool, and some just talking. All of them have beers in their hands, though. One of the Cobras I haven't met yet is tending the bar on the back wall. To outsiders, it looks like a full-on club. The night is lit by strands of lights strung from the roof of the clubhouse to the surrounding trees, and there's a bonfire off to the left where a few members sit around it in lounge chairs.

"Braxton!" one man calls from near the fire. "Come have a beer with us!"

Brax ignores him, helping me off the now-parked bike. I hand him the helmet and take a moment to look him over. He's reeling from what had just happened at the carnival. I take his hand to bring him back to me, but he shucks away from my touch, instead wrapping his hand around my wrist and dragging me into the clubhouse.

Miles is sitting in a corner on an L-shaped leather couch. Girls are perched all around, trying to get his attention, but his eyes meet mine, and his goofy smirk is instant.

"Aella! Finally, the party has arrived!" he shouts, standing and nearly falling over.

Kylo puts his pool cue down and rolls his eyes. "Didn't I tell your drunk ass to stay put?"

I grin.

Braxton's grip on my wrist grows tighter. I look toward him, and his eyes frantically overtake the growing crowd. Even now, more bikers are arriving. As the crowd grew, he seemed to get more irritated at the carnival. He'd already been on edge when he saw my face on that girl's screen.

"Hey, go on to your room. I'll deal with this," I tell him, tugging my hand from his grip.

Finally, his eyes find mine, something warm and fleeting crossing them. "You sure you can handle them? You're as safe as ever with the quiver surrounding you…" he trails off.

"Quiver?" I ask, lifting a brow as I rub my wrist absently.

Miles has taken to singing in front of us, swaying on the couch to a tune that differs from the one blaring through the speakers. I can tell the music is another layer of what's overwhelming Braxton.

"A group of cobras is called a quiver," he tells me, his features getting more rigid as the room gets louder as a group of men walk in and greet one another over the music.

I nod. "I'll be fine, and I'll get Miles to bed. Maybe you can see what you can find on the news about me? Maybe even social media?" Giving him a task should help him not to spiral while I'm ensuring Miles doesn't drink himself into oblivion.

Though, seeing him like this is the slightest bit endearing.

Brax steps into my body, looming over me. My breathing hitches as his hand skims up my spine. "You know where to find me if you need me."

"Do you want me to come to the room tonight, or will you be…" I try to recall the term he'd used.

"Dug in?" He shakes his head. "I don't think I'll ever be too dug in to see you, Aella."

His words do something to me. My chest fills with something foreign to me. I don't have time to dwell on it because Miles tries to stand again and nearly knocks a girl passing by over.

"Go," I tell Brax, "I've got this."

It's only a few minutes into sitting with Miles when I realize I do not have this. He's a brute when he's drunk. When he's two sheets to the wind, he's a fucking menace.

Miles is shorter than Braxton, but he's every bit as muscular. Usually, his dirty-blond hair swoops back with just the right amount of product in it. It's falling in his face tonight, making him look more innocent than he should. His smile is crooked, and his speech slurs .

He insists he can walk alone each time the guys have to take him to the bathroom.

Kylo drops him back onto the couch, and Miles's head lolls as he winds it towards me. "Hey, baby," he slurs. His breath smells like it's two hundred percent whiskey.

"Here, I got you this. You've earned it," Kylo says, handing me a beer.

I don't even look at the label or turn my nose up like usual. I down half of it.

Miles whistles. "Someone was thirsty," he says.

The guys cut him off a while ago, but there's enough liquor in his system to keep him going for a while longer, unfortunately for the rest of us.

I have to wonder what happened that made him drink to this point. Something's going on with him. I'd bet on it.

"So, where were you?" Miles asks.

I wonder how drunk he truly is. If he will recall none of this tomorrow, there's no point in hashing it all out only to do so again in the morning.

"I was at Summer Fest with Brax," I tell him anyway. I don't have to tell him everything that happened there. I'll save that for tomorrow when he's good and hungover.

He nods but then gives me a look of confusion. "Braxton went to Summer Fest? My brother? My vice-president?"

I side-eye him, downing the rest of my beer and motioning to Kylo to get me another. There's a smile in his eyes and lips when he nods and heads toward the bar.

"Yes, your brother took me to Summer Fest, which was a blast," I recount.

With Kylo gone, drunken Miles sees an opportunity to escape and moves to stand. I do the only thing I can think of now: straddle his lap to keep him down.

He huffs and sits back. But quickly, his face heats, hands finding my hips and caressing them. His goofy smirk is back as his eyes travel lazily over my body. A beer slides over my shoulder as Kylo says, "Found a way to keep him down, huh? Smart woman."

I laugh as Miles grips my hips tighter, groaning at the feel of their fullness.

"Why are you so drunk?" I ask.

He laughs. "Well, when one has multiple drinks…"

I roll my eyes. "I know the process, Miles. Why have you been drinking so much? What's going on?"

"You don't know me, Aella. What if this is how I am usually?" he counters.

I take a deep breath and an even deeper pull from the long-neck beer before shoving it between two cushions on our right side. "I know I don't know you, but I don't think this is you. What's going on?"

He opens his mouth as his eyes fill with drunken rage, but I reach my hand up and touch his face softly, and he closes his mouth and his eyes. It's as if I'd known subconsciously what to do, known how to tame him.

"I couldn't keep you safe," he says, and it's almost too low. I nearly miss it .

"Miles…" I start, but he cuts me off with the look that crosses his face.

"No. It's plain and simple. Braxton was right, Aella. I couldn't keep you safe. I dropped the ball. Who knows what mental and emotional scars you'll have because of it? It's because I broke the fucking rules!"

His voice gets loud, and a couple of men to the left of the couch look over, eyeing me as if I might turn into a problem they need to handle.

Why wouldn't they? Their fearless leader sounds upset.

"Hey," I tell him, cupping his face in my hands, "I'm alright."

His eyes cast downward.

"Look at me," I tell him, "If you're referring to that kiss you gave me, I'm glad you broke the rules. Because I wanted it, and it was…everything."

Emotional tears well in his eyes, and I'm praying he doesn't let them fall because they'll be my undoing. Someone this upset over my well-being and what happened to me is something I'm not used to.

He's in turmoil because of what happened at the restaurant, and while I am too, I'm not dwelling as severely as he is.

I'm kicking myself for not going to find him today. I spent all day doing what I wanted, not even worried about him. But I'm not used to men caring. At all.

"It was stupid," he says, his face nearing mine.

My breathing catches, my hands slide through his hair, and my center thrums to life. He affects me as quickly as he breathes and knows it, too .

"See that? How your pupils dilated, how your breathing changed. I feel that, too. It's all I can focus on in your presence. It makes me weak. It makes me vulnerable. If I'm vulnerable, so are you," he tells me, and his husky tone has the tingle in my spine racing for my brain.

"So, we take someone with us places. If you can't focus, they can," I answer smoothly, turning my face to his as we dance around our attraction.

He scoffs. "That's your answer? A fucking bodyguard?"

I shrug, licking across his bottom lip brazenly. "Either that or you never let me leave the house again."

"It's crossed my mind, Aella," he groans, sealing our lips together in a dance of passion that overwhelms my senses.

I groan into the kiss, and his hands squeeze my ass as I forget the world. I do, however, register gasps of shock and awe from the room behind us as I deepen the kiss and slip my tongue into his mouth.

The kiss is consuming and feral. There's also a drunken sloppiness to it I'll cherish. Miles is unguarded and free of all that usually looms over him, and it's in every way he kisses me with his soft lips.

"Princess, you're causing a ruckus behind us," he says, panting as he parts his lips from mine.

"Let them look," I say simply, not knowing who I've become in their presence.

"Ah, an exhibitionist, are you?" he asks, slowly returning to himself. Some of the glaze of alcohol is missing from his eyes .

"With you? I could be."

He uses his grip on my hips to rock my body against his cock, and I keep my eyes locked on his as my mouth drops open and a moan leaves my lips.

"Baby, don't do that," he growls.

"Why?" I ask breathlessly as I grind against him, working myself too high. I know I'll need to come down.

"Because I don't want to fuck you bent over that pool table. Especially since it's your first time. But if you keep it up, I'll…"

It almost stops me. Almost.

Because something in his tone makes me want to press the issue.

What if I make him fuck me in front of everyone? Maybe someone will take a video and post it online. Perhaps then I won't have to face the reality of returning to my old life. The one I don't want to return to.

I don't know if it's the alcohol in my veins or the feel of him beneath me that makes me face facts, but I know now I'll do what it takes to remain with them.

I'm slowly finding myself in a den of Cobras.

I'd gotten Miles to his room and to sleep. I wasn't ready to face Brax yet, as my energy was high. I know that's not what he needs. So, I meandered back to the clubhouse, to the party still raging on through the night. It's two a.m., yet there seem to be more people here than when I'd left with Miles to go to the house.

Kylo is sitting on the couch, a beautiful redhead on his lap. I move to get my beer from where I left it, and it's gone.

"Get you a new one. I threw it out. I assumed you wouldn't be back," Kylo says in apology.

I shrug. "No big deal. I was too wired to sleep and to go to the basement," I tell him. His answering look tells me he knows just what I'm saying.

"Hey, I know you!" the redhead says, pointing at me. Her waving finger tells me she thinks she does, but she can't quite figure out how she does. "You're the girl all over the news feeds, aren't you?"

I nod as my pulse picks up.

"Whit, leave her be," Kylo grumbles, giving me a look as if to say he's now doubly sorry.

"It's fine. Yes, I am, but I don't want that announced. I don't want to go back to that life anytime soon," I admit to her.

Kylo's brows shoot up. "The kidnapped becomes the hideaway."

"Stockholm syndrome, that's what that is called," Whitney says.

"You're Whitney, right? Miles loaned me some of your clothes the other day. I promise I'll get them back to you," I tell her.

Sully saunters up, imposing, body stamping across the room as he hands me a beer.

"Thank you," I say, and he nods at me.

"He doesn't speak. He can't hear, but he can sign. You'll need to learn to if you're staying. Don't worry about the clothes, girl. No biggie at all!" Whitney says, green eyes glowing. "Also, don't worry about anyone here leaking shit about you. No one would even dare utter a word about you to an outsider. Especially not after the show earlier."

Kylo pinches Whitney's leg, and she squeals before slapping him upside his arm. "What was that for?"

I laugh.

I like her.

Honest to a fault isn't a terrible quality. "What show?" I ask, knowing what she had been referring to but wanting to check out how the rest of the club felt about it.

She rolls her eyes. "You and the Pres? Every girl in here was practically dying to be you, girl. He doesn't kiss. Ever!"

Kylo eyes her sharply.

"What?" she says. "Not me, of course, love."

She winks at me, and I laugh again. I'm leaning against the pool table, long forgotten in the revelry, and Whitney shifts off of Kylo's lap to face me.

"Why doesn't he kiss, anyhow? What's the story there?" I ask them, dodging my gaze between them.

Kylo sips his drink, and Whitney looks to the floor.

"No one knows," she finally says. "But girls have been shunned from the club in the past for just attempting to kiss him. Then here you come, like a hurricane of sex, taming him and shoving your tongue down his throat. It puts a target on your back. I'll say that much," she finishes .

I look at Kylo, and he nods once. His soft eyes tell me not to worry, but I worry anyhow.

"I'll bear that in mind," I tell her.

A moment of loud silence passes, the blasting music in the room filling the space between us.

Whitney takes a breath, and Kylo looks like he's bracing for whatever she will say next, as if he's fully used to her spicy mouth.

"So, you're just cool with being their bait, then?"

Kylo throws his arms up, turning towards her with a salty look. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"What?" she asks, shrugging. "She seems so comfortable with her kidnappers. It's what everyone here is wondering. They took her to take the plan to the next level, right?"

Kylo says something through gritted teeth at her I don't catch, and she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Sorry," Kylo tells me, and I'm taken aback completely.

I know I'd taken to this situation too quickly, but no one truly knows me. No one knows how much I've hated my dad and the situation I've been in with Carter for so long. They don't know how I can't make a move without a photographer capturing it and selling it to some writer who'd write a piece about what I'd been doing. I've never been able to be myself and explore who I could be without the weight of my last name bearing down on my shoulders. Braxton taking me and thrusting me into this world did that for me. It took all of it away. I'm free to be me now. Well, find who I could be.

But Whitney had a point, as well. Why am I okay with being their bait? They have plans involving my father, and I need to find out why. My father has been at the top of the Forbes list for far too long. Men don't get where he is without doing shady deals in dark alleys. It's never been a legacy I wanted to take over or inherit, but I've never wondered who he stepped on to get where he is.

I've never wanted to know who he is behind all his money.

Maybe it's time I seek answers of my fucking own.

When I finally head back towards the house, I note Sully behind me. He's keeping his distance but making himself known enough that I feel at ease moving away from the party and through the darkness to the house.

When I reach the basement, I register the front door closing as Sully returns to the clubhouse.

Brax is in bed when I slide under the covers. I don't know why I'd chosen his room over Miles's, but his arm comes around me and tugs me close as his lips find my temple, and the world is forgotten.

"Where is our fearless drunken leader?" he asks sleepily.

"In his bed. He's going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow."

He chuckles softly. "He's nursed worse things than that. He'll be fine."

As he drifts back to sleep, thoughts ramble through my head about how I fit into their world—if I even do. Based on what Whitney said, I know more secrets are still being kept from me than I thought. I turn away from Braxton's heavy breathing, and my eyes fall on the massive desk where all his screens and computers are.

My stomach flips as a plan forms. If I want to know what they want me for, what they're using me against my dad for, I'll bet it's in there.

As much as I don't want to go home, I need to know all the facts. If they haven't given them to me yet, they're not going to.

I stare at the ceiling as I plot how to get the information I want while remaining safe with the two brothers I can feel myself falling for.

Before I can finish weaving my web, Braxton's even breathing and warm body lull me to sleep.