CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Elaina—

The next morning, the sun is shining, and any trace of the storm is gone.

When I come upstairs, the aroma of bacon hits my nose. I round the corner and find Baja at the stove, shirtless with a pair of sweat pants hanging low on his hips. My eyes take in his muscular back, then drop to the two dimples at the base of his spine—something I find extremely sexy.

He's whistling a tune and seems unaware I'm standing here until Rosie's nails click across the hardwood.

Baja twists. "Oh, you're up." He gives me a slow once over, and I'm suddenly rethinking the fact that I'm standing here in only the Royal Bastards t-shirt he loaned me. It hangs to mid-thigh, but still, I probably should have slipped on a pair of jeans.

"Babe, if you're really wanting to take this slow, you probably should have put on some pants."

I walk toward him. "Do you want me to go back downstairs?"

"Nope."

I press against his side and kiss his lips. He dips his head to make it easy for me, so I know he doesn't object too much. When we break apart, I smile. "Bacon looks delicious."

He arcs a brow. "That's not the only thing that looks delicious in this kitchen. Sit down and quit tempting me, or you don't get any."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir? I like that."

I giggle and take a seat at the table, tucking one leg under me.

He carries a mug of coffee to me. "I just poured this one."

I cup it in my hands and sip while he returns to the stove.

"You like scrambled eggs?"

"Sure."

"Good, ‘cause that's what you're getting." He swivels his head and grins at me.

"And if I didn't, you'd make me something else, wouldn't you?"

"Sassy little thing, aren't you?" He winks. "Yeah, I would."

"Need any help?"

"Nope. It's better if you sit over there. You come any closer, I won't be held responsible for what happens."

"Sounds intriguing. Now I want to know."

"Oh, you know. And you'd like it, too. I'd make sure of that."

"Now you're making me reconsider this whole ‘takin' it slow' thing," I tease.

He whacks a wooden spoon on the edge of the skillet. "You change your mind, you let me know."

"You'll be the first."

His chest shakes with his laughter when he turns his attention to the stove. "I've got to go out for a while, but I thought maybe when I get back, we could invite some of the guys for a cookout. That is, if the weather holds out." He leans to the window over the sink and parts the curtain, staring at the sky.

"I think it's supposed to be a nice day," I say.

"Sorry, I've been leaving you alone so much." He removes the skillet from the burner and divides the eggs between two plates, adds a few strips of bacon to each and carries them to the table. "You like ketchup, hot sauce, anything?"

"No thanks," I say, and he grabs a bottle of hot sauce and sits. He shakes out a generous portion onto his eggs. I munch on a piece of bacon, watching.

Setting the bottle back on the table he digs in to his food. "Mmm. That's good."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You don't do spicy food?" he asks.

"Not really."

"We're not going to get along then."

"Oh, no? Deal's off, huh?"

"Yup. I don't do bland food."

"Just because it's not spicy doesn't mean it's bland."

"Says you."

I giggle and dig in to my food. "I'm getting used to you cooking for me."

"You are, huh? Maybe I should let you have a turn."

"I don't really cook. Deal breaker?"

"Nope. I've got a feeling nothing you could do would be a deal breaker for me."

"Maybe I'm horrible in bed," I tease.

That gives him pause. "Please, God, don't say that. It can't be true."

I laugh and waggle my brows. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

"Now you're just being mean. How long I gotta wait, babe?"

I shrug. "We'll see."

"There are those words again." He glances at Rosie who's been waiting patiently for a piece of bacon. "You hear that, girl? You're mom's a tease."

Rosie licks her mouth, drool coming out of the corner.

Baja grabs a slice of bacon and holds his hand out. "Shake."

Rosie gives him her paw and gets rewarded with the slice.

Baja scratches her ears. "Good girl." His phone goes off with a text, and he looks at it. "I've got to get going." He carries his plate to the kitchen, then returns and kisses the top of my head. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge. I'll try to be back sometime around three."

With that, he goes to his room and closes the door.

I finish eating, and he reemerges fully dressed with his cut on. My gaze takes him in from head to toe—the biker boots, the chain to his wallet, the rings on his fingers, the leather cut, its patches worn. Every time I see him like this, my breath catches. He looks good, powerful, formidable. He looks like the kind of man who, no matter what door he walked through, would own the room.

"See you later, Elaina." He walks out the door to the deck and down the stairs.

Rosie watches him go with a low whimper. She's already attached to him.

"I know how you feel, girl," I whisper.

It's midafternoon, and I'm curled up on the couch watching tv. I've slipped my jeans on, but kept Baja's shirt because it makes me feel closer to him. "Should we make some popcorn, Rosie?"

She comes to her feet and stares at the door. A moment later, there's a pounding on it.

Rosie barks and runs to the entryway, and I scurry after her. I see a man through the glass and suck in my breath.

Elliott .

"Let me in, Elaina. I just want to talk."

I crack the door about four inches. "There's nothing to talk about, Elliott. Whatever we had is over."

He pushes inside, surprising me with the sudden aggression. He looks haggard, like he hasn't slept, but that's ridiculous. I doubt he's lost sleep over me.

"What the hell are you doing here, Elaina? Where's my brother?"

"He's…" I trail off; inside me, warning bells are clanging, and a voice is screaming, don't tell him you're alone . "Why are you here, Elliott?"

"My father told me you were with my brother." He paces and drags a hand through his hair. His skin is sweaty, and I suddenly wonder if he's on something. He whirls back on me. "I couldn't fucking believe it. What were you thinking?"

"Maybe the same thing you were thinking when you slept with my cousin."

"I told you that was bullshit."

I roll my eyes and whirl, walking way. I don't get two feet before he clamps a hand on my arm and yanks me around.

Rosie emits a low growl, and Elliott flicks his gaze to her. "Tell your dog to lie down or so help me God, I'll slit her throat."

The look in his eyes is wild. Now I'm sure he's on something. "Calm down and lower your voice, and she'll relax."

He shakes me by the arm. "Tell her."

"Rosie. Down."

She backs up a couple feet and lies down, but she's alert, and I thank God she's here with me. Though, I don't doubt Elliott's threat to hurt her, and I'm scared for both of us.

"Where's the license, Elaina?"

"The license? I don't have it."

"Don't fucking lie to me," he yells, and Rosie jumps to her feet. "Put the dog out on the deck."

I hesitate, and he moves to the kitchen island and spots the knife block. He doesn't pull one, but his threat is clear.

I lift a hand. "Okay, I'll put her out. Just calm down."

"Now."

Grabbing Rosie's collar, I lead her to the door and put her out on the deck. For a split second, I think about dashing to the apartment and locking the door, but I feel him at my back and know I'll never make it. The moment the door is closed, he reaches past me and flips the lock, then whirls me around.

"Get me the license."

"I don't have it." I don't know what makes me stand up to him, what makes me lie. Perhaps because if he gets his hands on it, he'll file it, and I can't let him do that. Over his shoulder I see my cell phone on the island.

He catches my glance and follows my eyes. "Who are you thinking about calling, Elaina? Dylan, perhaps? He's obviously not here. Where is he?"

"I-I don't know."

"Liar. When's he coming back?"

"Any minute now," I lie.

He grins. "You always were a lousy liar, sweetheart. No, I don't think he's going to be back any time soon."

"Why did you come?"

"You know my father was set to make me Vice President of his company. Do you know how long I've wanted that? Said there was only one thing holding him back. He wanted me settled down. When he called me in his office and told me, I was thrown. I had no intention of marrying anyone. But he had it all planned. He even picked out my bride."

My chin pulls back. "That's why you took a sudden interest? Because it's what your father wanted?"

He shrugs. "You were as good as anyone, and you can't deny I can give you a good life. We can still make this work, Elaina. My father has suggested I sweeten the deal. So, if you come along nicely, I've set up a bank account for you. There's a hundred grand in it."

"I don't want your money. And I don't want you. The only thing I want is for you to leave. Now."

"I told my father you'd be difficult. I told him money has never been that important to you. There's only one thing I know you really want. Children." He smiles a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I could give those to you. In fact, I think we should get started on that right now. It's time you and I consummate our marriage, wife."

Before I can escape, he yanks me toward the bedroom, but I fight him, dropping my weight to the floor. That doesn't stop him, though. He buries his fist in my hair and drags me.

I kick and flail, knocking a lamp off a table and turning a chair on its side. I manage to get my hands on a candlestick and swing my arm, hitting him in the groin with the heavy brass.

"Motherfucking bitch!" he screams, releasing me and doubling over.

I scramble away, but before I can get to my feet, he's on top of me, pinning me to the floor. I'm on my stomach, but he manages to flip me to my back, then slaps me hard.

"That's for what you did to me, you little slut."

I'm still in the Royal Bastards t-shirt Baja leant me, and with one yank, Elliott rips the fabric up the middle, exposing my bra.

I claw at him, scratching his face, determined to fight him to the end.

Rosie is barking like crazy, pawing at the glass, trying to get to me, then turning in circles.

I fight. I fight like crazy, but he's so much stronger.

The sound of motorcycles rumbles the glass and bounces off the building, roaring closer.

That doesn't even slow Elliott down, and I have to believe he doesn't know anything about his brother being a member of an MC.

"That's Dylan," I spit. "He'll kill you for this."

That gives him pause, and he looks toward the deck.

The bikes have turned in, and their engines cut off.

Rosie is still barking incessantly, scratching at the door, up on her hind legs. That's when I feel the floor beneath me shake, boots pounding up the stairs and across the deck.

I turn my head to look, but Elliott punches me and stars explode before my eyes.

"You fucking biker whore," he yells, and then his weight is off me. I'm so dizzy from the punch, I just lie there. A moment later the glass in the door to the deck shatters, and boots thud across the floor.

I manage to pull the pieces of my shirt together, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"He went out the front," someone yells.

"Go after him," a voice barks, and I recognize Rock.

I frown. Why is he here? Everything is fuzzy.

Three blurry men dash out the front door.

Rosie races to me, licking my face.

Trez kneels next to me. "You okay, honey?"

I shake my head because I'm not, and sobs overwhelm me.

Trez pulls me to a sitting position and wraps an arm around me. "It's okay. He's gone."

I wrap my arms around Rosie, clutching her to me, rocking.

Rock and Darko approach.

Rock squats and tips my chin up. "Did he break in? Can you give me a description?"

"It was Elliott," I whisper.

Rock frowns. "Elliott?"

Trez fills him in. "Baja's brother."

"Jesus Christ," Rock hisses. "Did he…?" He trails off, but I know what he wants to ask.

"He tried; you interrupted him before he could." I glance around. "Where's Baja? I need Baja." I'm shaking and close to breaking down.

"Take a deep breath, sweetheart," Rock says. "He'll be here in a minute."

I do what he says, and it helps calm me.

"Baja's right behind us," he continues. "He stopped to get beer."

I nod, suddenly not wanting to talk. I feel self-conscious with all the men standing around.

Reckless, Utah, and Memphis troup in the open front door.

Utah shakes his head. "We lost him."

Rock grinds his teeth. "We know where to find him."

The sound of another motorcycle grows closer, and Rock stares at me. "That'll be Baja." He stands and looks over his shoulder. "Grab her a shirt, Memphis."

A moment later, a shirt settles in my hands. "Go slip this on, honey," Trez says. "Baja will lose his shit if he sees that torn shirt."

I nod, and he pulls me to my feet. I stumble into the bedroom and change. When I come back out, Baja is standing in the door with a twelve-pack of beer in his hands, staring at the broken glass crunching under his boots.

"What the fuck, man? You boys bust in my door?"

"Not exactly," Trez says.

"Sit down, brother," Rock orders.

Baja frowns, looking around the room at all the faces of his brothers, then I notice him take in the evidence of the struggle: the overturned chair, the busted lamp on the floor, the candlestick.

"What happened?" he whispers. "Where's Elaina?" He tries to bolt from the chair, but two of his brothers hold him down.

I step around them. "I'm here. I'm okay."

His eyes sweep over me, checking for himself. I think my face must already be showing signs of that punch, and I try to turn to hide it.

"Elaina." He tries to get to me. "Let me fucking go. Someone please tell me what the fuck happened. Now."

"Elliott showed up. We busted through the door, and he ran out the front," Trez says.

"My brother was here?"

"Yeah," Rock replies. "The boys tried to catch him, but he got away." Rock leans his fists on the table. "We saw him through the window. He had Elaina pinned on the floor when we came up. The dog was barking out there, going crazy trying to get in. The door was locked, so we busted the glass."

"I'm going to kill him." Baja meets my eyes. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

My eyes fill with tears. I can't help it.

"Babe, come here," he whispers with open arms, and I run to him. He rises out of his chair, his brothers releasing him, and we embrace. I burrow under his cut and bury my face in his soft, warm t-shirt, hugging him tight. How quickly he's become my safe place.

"Baja." His name is soft on my lips. It's all I need to say. Just one word.

"He hurt you." Baja strokes a hand over my head. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I pull back and stare into his face, shaking my head. "None of this is your fault. He wanted the marriage license."

"Did you give it to him?" His eyes flare.

"No." I shake my head. "I told him I didn't have it. He didn't believe me, and he got angry. Angry that I was here with you."

"He's dead," Baja growls the words.

"No. It's over. He's gone. Let that be the end of it. Please. For me."

"Don't ask that of me, babe."

"You have to let it go, Baja. I'm here. That has to be enough."

"Maybe you should stay at the clubhouse tonight," Rock suggests.

"No," Baja bites out. "That son-of-a-bitch comes back, I'm gonna be here waiting for him."