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Authors: Jenika Snow

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Chapter
Fifteen

 

Fury
sat on the edge of the bed and looked over his shoulder at Angelina. She was
asleep on her side, the sheet covering her nude body, and the things he’d said
to her replaying through his mind like a broken record. Yeah, he’d said she was
his, that he was claiming her, and although he could blame it on the heat of
the moment, the truth was he meant those words. Ever since he saw her for the first
time all those weeks ago something in him had clicked. He’d tried telling
himself over and over again that wanting her was just the sick side of him that
wanted to get back at Sal. And maybe he’d convinced himself of that, in a way,
but having her here was so different.

The
way she looked at him, spoke to him made him feel like he wasn’t a worthless
motherfucker. It wasn’t something he’d ever felt before. He’d always lived for
his club, didn’t care what lengths he’d go, or what fucked up things he’d do to
make things right, not until this moment. He didn’t want her hurt, didn’t want
Angelina in the middle of this even if he was the one that had put her here.

Fury
let his gaze travel over her arm that was up by her face. His fingers itched to
touch her skin, to see if even in sleep he could have goosebumps moving along
her skin, her body reacting to him. But in the end he tightened his hands into
fists and got off the bed. After slipping pants on and a t-shirt he left her in
the room sleeping. They’d slept well into early afternoon, but hadn’t gone to
bed until nearly five in the morning.

He
stood in the kitchen and stared at the stove. Hell, he wanted to do something
domestic for her, like cook, feed her, make her see he wasn’t just a lowdown
motherfucker. But Fury didn’t cook, and unless she wanted a piece of ham
slapped between two pieces of bread, or a shot of whiskey, he’d just end up
burning the food. But he could make her a strong cup of coffee. Fury figured
after the night they had, the hit that had gone down the last few days, and the
fact she was probably sore—which had him grinning and feeling pride—she’d need
a kick in the ass cup of coffee.

He
started the pot and stood by the sink staring out the window. The driveway was
a long graveled strip of road that was about half an acre long. There was also
a gate that blocked entry, but the cabin and property were so far off the
beaten path, and the nearest down a long fucking ways off, no one came this way
unless passing by.

The
sound of the coffee dripping into the pot had him looking over at it, his
thoughts on Angelina and how he was going to handle this. Fury knew he didn’t
want to let her go, not even after all of this. He wanted to take out her
father, though, and that meant he needed to find the fucker.

But
was she really okay with Sal Cardona being killed? Fury couldn’t let things be
done with the fucker, couldn’t let him get away with hurting his club or
Birdie. Fury could have done a lot of things differently, but what was done was
done, and there was no turning back.

The
sound of shuffling behind him had Fury turning and seeing Angelina standing
there in nothing but a blanket. He saw her toes peeking out from under the
material, and despite the fact he’d fucked her hardcore last night, and should
have been set for at least a day, his cock came right to attention.

“Hey,”
he said, because honestly he didn’t know what in the fuck to say.

She
smiled, but she looked nervous as hell, too.

“Coffee?”
Angelina nodded, took a step toward him, but before she moved more than a foot
she stopped. When she looked down at herself her face became pink. “I should
probably get dressed.”

Fury
couldn’t help it. He smiled. “I won’t complain about naked coffee drinking.”

Angelina
started laughing, and the sound was nice, calming. “I’ll be right back.” She
turned and left, and Fury felt himself still smiling. After all that happened,
this time with her felt … normal. It was still pretty insane that she’d ended
up in his bed after what happened, but he couldn’t deny the fact he felt very
possessive of her. The very thought of letting her walk away, that he wouldn’t
see her again, had this rage billowing inside of him. He wanted her like a
fiend, and if he were being honest he’d felt that desire start to grow inside
of him the first time he saw her all those weeks ago. It had grown into the
territorial monster it was now, and there was no denying or stopping it.

The
sound of an approaching vehicle had Fury looking out the window and seeing a
dark SUV coming up the driveway. It was too far for him to see who was inside,
but he was already on alert. He opened the sink cabinet, reached under it, and
grabbed the gun tucked underneath. It was just one of the many guns that were
stashed around the cabin.

Checking
to make sure it was locked and loaded, he tucked the pistol at the small of his
back, and grabbed another gun that was on top of the fridge, making sure that
one was ready, as well. He kept his focus on the approaching vehicle the whole
time, and when it came to a stop in front of the cabin the glare from the sun
cut right over the windshield, blocking him from still trying to make out who
was in the car. He could assume it was a Bleeding MC member, because there were
several SUVs at the clubhouse that was similar, but it was a standard dark car,
and could be anyone. Fury had to always be prepared.

The
driver got out of the vehicle first, and then the passenger was next. It was
then he saw it was Birdie and Stone. Fury cursed and set the gun he had in his
hand down and walked to the front door. He glanced down at his bedroom door,
but Angelina was still inside getting dressed.

“Fuck,”
he said again and opened the door before Birdie and Stone could either barge in
or knock. He saw Birdie holding his outer leg as he made his way toward the
porch. Stone stood back, but he knew Birdie well enough that the other man
probably wouldn’t accept any help from anyone.

“Hey,”
Stone said, his voice tight, because he damn well knew he shouldn’t be up here.

“I
said I needed time to myself to handle shit.” Fury looked pointedly at Birdie.

“This
asshole was persistent in knowing where you were at.” Stone narrowed his eyes
at Birdie. “And the club knows where you’re at. They saw us leaving and things
just came out.” Stone straightened. “But it’s not right for me to keep your
fucking dirty laundry, man. The club deserves to know.”

Fury
cursed again and nodded. “Yeah, I know, but shit, Stone, you could have given
me a warning. You know damn well the club will have their ass up here to see
what the fuck is going on.”

Stone
nodded. The two men were now on the porch, with Birdie leaning against the
banister holding his side now. Sweat beads covered his forehead, and his face
was pale, but he looked hard as fucking steel in his composure.

“What
the fuck, man?” Birdie said, his voice hard, angry.

“I
should have kept you in the loop, but you were recovering, and I was pissed at
the whole situation.” Fury wasn’t going to apologize for what he’d done,
because the reason he was here was because he needed to get vengeance for his
friend and club.

“You
think up and leaving, without saying shit to anyone was what a president of an
MC should do, what a brother should do?” Birdie was pissed, his face getting
red, more sweat covering his forehead. It was also clear he was in pain.

“Man,
get in the fucking house and lay down.”

Birdie
flipped him off, but the three of them did head inside. Once Birdie was on the
couch Fury went over to the freezer and got out a bottle of vodka. He walked
over to his longtime friend, handed him the whole thing, and watched as Birdie
popped the cap and took a long swig from it. They stood there without speaking,
and Fury glanced at the bedroom door. Had she heard them talking? If so she’d
be smart to stay in the room, because he sure as fuck didn’t want to explain
what she was doing here, or who she was.

But
then his heart stopped as the bedroom door opened and she came walking out in a
pair of his sweats three sizes too big, and one of his t-shirts that hung off
of one of her shoulders. Her dark hair was a wealth of waves around her
shoulders, and her head was downcast as she messed with the pant leg. They hung
off her, and damn was she fucking cute, attractive in his clothes.

The
air in the room stilled, thickened, and became heated. The other two men stared
at her, and Fury glanced between Stone and Birdie, gauging their reactions.

“Fury,”
Angelina said, her head still downcast, a smile playing along her lips, “I hope
it’s okay I am wearing this.” She lifted her head then. “The clothes I had were
a wreck from last night—” Her smile was frozen on her face for a second as she
looked among the three of them, and then her smile faded. No one spoke or moved
for several moments, and then Fury walked over to her and stood in front of
Angelina.

“What
the fuck is going on here?” Birdie asked and sat up, not sounding upset, but
certainly confused. It was also clear by Stone’s confusion they didn’t know who
Angelina was.

Good,
because the need to protect her, even from the men he trusted the most, rode
Fury hard.

“You
got to be fucking kidding me,” Stone muttered under his breath. “You ran off to
keep some pussy on demand in the cabin?”

Fury
felt his rage rising at the way Stone casually spoke about Angelina. She was a
hell of a lot more than some pussy on demand. “Watch it, boy,” Fury said
through clenched teeth.

Stone
lifted his eyebrow and looked at Birdie. Fury glanced at Birdie, too, and saw
his expression tense.

“What’s
going on, man?” Birdie asked, now standing, and trying to look around Fury’s shoulder.
Fury reached behind and curled his fingers around Angelina’s waist. He knew
these men wouldn’t hurt her, but just the thought of someone looking at her,
thinking filthy things about her, pissed him off and had the protective side
rise up like a violent beast. “I can see the little bird behind you means
something more than some pussy on the side.” Birdie looked at Fury again. “So
tell us what in the hell is going on, Fury? Why all the hiding? What’s really
the plan?”

He’d
never been able to hide shit from Birdie. The other man had been on point with
everything his whole life. This was the man that had killed for Fury, had done
time for him, and Fury was being eaten alive by keeping shit from everyone. It
was wrong hiding this from the MC, from his family.

“I
was doing what I thought was right at the time.”

Another
moment of silence passed.

“What’s
going on here? Who is she?” Stone was the one to ask, tipping his chin toward
Angelina.

Angelina
stepped out from behind him, and Fury glanced at her. She was already looking
at him, her eyes wide, and the nerves clear on her face. She finally faced
Stone and Birdie, and a second passed before she continued to speak. “I’m
Angelina Cardona.”

Fury
felt the air become chilled as both men straightened and looked at each other.

“You’ve
been holed up here with Angelina-Fucking-Cardona, Fury?” Birdie said and took a
step closer, but braced a hand on the arm of the couch as he grimaced. “As in
Sal Cardona’s daughter?”

Fury
didn’t respond, but did wrap his arm around Angelina’s waist and pull her close
to his side. “Sit down, chill the hell out, and I’ll explain everything.”

But
Fury knew explaining wasn’t going to make this any easier to take, or make it
less of a betrayal to his club.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

“I
know where they’re at,” Nando said into the receiver. The sun had since set,
and the only sound that could be heard out here in the middle of fucking
nowhere was of the crickets chirping.

“Where?”
Sal’s voice was hard on the other end of the cell.

Nando
told him the coordinates.

“They
have Angelina?”

Nando
braced his hand on the windowsill “She’s fine, from what I can tell. There are
three club members with her at the cabin, and from what I can see she’s gotten
pretty close with one of them.”

Sal
was silent for a second, and then cursed in Italian. “That fucking bitch
betrayed her blood.”

Nando
knew Sal didn’t care so much about his daughter’s wellbeing as much as he cared
about his own safety. Angelina could be used as leverage against the Cardonas,
and that meant Sal needed to rein this shit in tight.

“I’ll
take a plane tonight to get there, and drive up by morning.”

Nando
hung up the phone and tossed it onto the passenger side seat. He’d parked the
vehicle a good ways off from the main road that lead to the cabin. Even with
his scope from this vantage he couldn’t see the cabin, but he’d trekked into
the woods for a better look earlier today.

He
looked behind him in the backseat where the girl was still passed out. He’d
given her a heavy sedative, and she should be waking up come daybreak. But the
longer he stared at her, the more he felt this desire grow. Nando didn’t deny
he was fucked up in the head, but that’s what allowed him to be the
cold-blooded killer her was. He reached out and ran his finger over her bare foot.
Her skin was soft, warm. Nando didn’t keep women around. He used them for the
amount of time it took him to get off, and then he kicked them the fuck out.
But this young, innocent woman piqued his interest and had the flame of desire
burning bright.

He
was a sadistic asshole, and he knew this pretty little thing could make him
feel fucking good. He’d show her what it meant to have his marks on her body,
but not before he used her a little to show the MC who and what they were up
against.

He
faced forward again, his cock hard just from the thought of all the things he’d
do to her. Nando needed to focus on the task at hand.

If
the rest of the club didn’t show up they would soon enough once they knew Sal
and him were there. The girl might not be anything to them, but she might be,
as well. Either way he’d have fun with her, even if the MC didn’t want anything
to do with her.

“This
is going to be a very interesting situation,” he said to her, even if she
couldn’t hear him. Nando smiled, anxious for what was to come.

****

All
day. This conversation about Sal and Fury going rogue had been going on all
damn day. To say this situation was awkward was an understatement, but Angelina
was pushing through. She tried to appear calm, even made the guys’ dinner. It
was clear Fury didn’t care who saw their PDA, because through the whole evening
he was touching her hip, brushing her hair off her shoulder, and acting so out
of character, at least in the way she’d seen him so far. But it was nice, and
she liked having him like this, showing that he cared about her.

He does care about you, at least
he’s said as much.

She
didn’t know what exactly was going on, especially between her and Fury. The
guys didn’t say more than a few words here and there, but she was okay with
that, because Angelina didn’t know what to say about this either. This was a
fucked up situation for sure, and even after Fury explained everything to the
guys, told them about why he’d brought her here … how he’d gotten her to the
cabin, the tension was still awkward.

“I
spoke with Shorty,” the one named Birdie said.

Angelina
was in the kitchen cleaning up, keeping busy, but she was casting glances at
the guys in the living room. They looked tense.

“They
pissed about this whole thing, about me going rogue?” Fury asked, but he didn’t
seem apologetic, and Angelina had a feeling he already knew they’d be upset. He
glanced over at her as if he felt her stare, gave her a wink, and focused on
Birdie again.

How damn strange I feel this hard
up for him after everything.

But
even knowing that, and common sense telling her that he was dangerous,
kidnapped her, and wanted to use her to get back at her father, things had
worked out differently. He hadn’t hurt her, not even after she escaped. Yes,
she had gotten into bed with him pretty damn fast, even after he forcefully
seduced her—
which I loved.

“Dude,
you know they are. You went behind everyone’s back, went all rogue and shit.”

Fury
didn’t say anything after that, just exhaled and nodded. “Yeah, but I had to do
what I felt was right. I had to do what I needed in order to protect the club”

There
had been a lot of cursing and arguing after Fury told them everything. The fact
the rest of the MC were on their way to the cabin, according to Stone, had
Angelina feeling like she was stuck in the center of a shit storm and there was
no way to escape.

But I don’t want to escape.

She
stared at Fury, felt her heart pick up speed at the sight of him. Just looking
at him made her adrenaline pump through her veins, had this warmth moving through
her. She’d never felt this way about anyone.
That has to count for something, right?

“You
want to go after Sal, we have your back, man. You’re our Prez,” Stone said, his
voice hard, unwavering. “Didn’t you think we wanted the fucker in the ground,
too?” Stone glanced her way after he said that, but he didn’t look like he was
sorry she heard.

She
wasn’t sorry either, didn’t even care. Maybe it was cold and heartless of her,
but Sal had never been a father to her, and she’d never felt a connection to
him. She’d been afraid of his power, of the bodies he left in his wake, and all
she’d ever wanted was to run from him and that life.

“Listen,
I’m tired as fuck and hurting. The club will be here at sunup. Let’s finish
this then.” Birdie stood after he finished speaking. “I’m taking one of the
rooms. I assume Fury will shack up with Ang,” he glanced her way, “so Stone,
you’re taking the couch, man.” Birdie left the living room without saying
anything else, and the three of them stood there, not speaking, and the
awkwardness a little tight.

“Come
on, baby.” Fury held his hand out to her, and feeling a little weird at the
endearment from him in front of Stone, she walked over to Fury and placed her
hand in his. With one last look at Stone, who, like his name, stood there
unmoving, she headed to Fury’s room. Before the door shut they could hear
shouting coming from down the hall.

“Dude,
a lock on the wall and chains on the ground?” Birdie hollered out. “You are
fucked up.” The door slammed shut, and Angelina couldn’t help her chuckle. It
wasn’t one of amusement, but one of nervousness.

She
shut the door and leaned against it, watching as Fury started getting
undressed.

“This
is weird as hell.”

He
looked over his shoulder. “It sure as fuck is.” He gave her a half smile, and
she pushed away from the door.

“You
seem different with me.”

He
tossed his shirt onto the bed and turned to face her. “Yeah, I can tell I am,
but it’s not intentional.”

She
moved toward him, now just a foot from where he stood, and found herself reaching
out and touching the ink on his chest. “Why are you acting different?”

He
didn’t speak for several seconds, but she then felt her head being lifted up by
his finger under her chin. His eyes appeared stormy, conflicted.

“You
were so hard, unforgiving, and dangerous when I first found out what was going
on,” she whispered. He smoothed his finger over her bottom lip, and she sucked
in a breath at the tingle that moved through her body.

“Don’t
mistake my feelings for you in meaning I’m not just as dangerous or violent to
someone that fucks with what I hold close.” His voice was deep, hoarse. “But
with you I feel different. This whole situation is one huge cluster-fuck, and
us being together is not ideal. You wouldn’t have given a motherfucker like me
a second glance if things hadn’t worked out the way they had.”

No,
she probably wouldn’t, but only because she lived in a bubble.

He
moved closer to her until the scent of him washed through her. What she wanted
was to be with him, even if other bikers were just beyond this door. She
couldn’t help herself with Fury. He was power and danger all wrapped in one,
and being close to him, knowing this was crazy, made this so much better.

“I
want you,” he said, and all she could do was nod. With everything going on she
just wanted to feel Fury in all ways, and not think about what was to come.

And
then he kissed her and everything else faded away until it was just the two of
them.

****

They
panted against each other’s mouths, and when he broke the kiss it was only to
get them both undressed. Angelina didn’t stop him, and in fact moaned out for
more, whispering for him to go faster. Once they were both naked, nothing
shielding them, and his body pressed against hers again, he kissed her like a
fiend.

His
cock was so fucking hard, but then again since first seeing her Fury felt like
he’d had a constant erection for her. All could think about was that she was
here, with him, and smelling and tasting so fucking good.

Mouths
still latched in a demanding kiss, Fury curled his fingers around her hips,
pulled her impossibly closer, and turned them until they were walking toward
the bed. This was about
her
getting
off, about Angelina feeling pleasure and not worrying about anything. He could
see, feel how tense and nervous she was about all of this, and it was his
fault. He’d screwed up her life enough, and although he couldn’t let her go,
couldn’t walk away, he could make her forget about it all, even if only for a
short time.

He
groaned deeply when his cock pressed right against her soft, warm flesh. She
was so fucking gorgeous, shaped like a woman, and he loved it. When she placed
her hand on his cock, a groan ripped from him.

She
reached between them to take hold of his dick, but he moved away and cupped her
cheek. “Right now is about you, baby.” God, she was so fucking beautiful.

“I
just want to be with you,” she whispered.

Yeah,
he wanted to be with her, too, but he wanted to make sure she was lost in it
all.

She
was his, and it took this fucked up situation to show Fury there wasn’t anyone
else in the world for either of them.

****

Angelina
wanted to be with him, wanted to feel his dick inside of her, thrusting, making
her get off. She didn’t care that Stone might be able to hear them. She also
didn’t care that come tomorrow a lot of shit was going to go down with her
father and the club. This was just about them right now. He stared at her while
cupping her cheek, and raw, unadulterated lust slammed into her, so fast and
fierce it took her breath away.

Fury
had his hands on her ass, curled his fingers around the flesh, and helped her
back on the bed until she was sprawled on it. For long seconds he just looked
down at her, and then he was on his knees before her, pushing her thighs
further apart.

“This
is about you, baby,” he said right before he leaned forward and started running
his tongue along her inner thigh, getting closer to her pussy. She shamelessly
lifted her hips, needing more.

She
felt free with him, safe and protected, despite the irony of it all.

The
chill in the air seeped over her flesh, and she knew her nipples were hard,
elongated for him. The tissue felt sensitive and hard. Her erogenous zones
tingled as he watched her. It was like Fury wanted to memorize every inch of
her.

“I’d
kill anyone that hurt you, that
thought
about hurting you,” he said under his breath, as if he spoke to himself. “And I
know how fucking crazy that sounds given the fact I’m the one that drugged and
kidnapped you, chained you up like an animal.”

Her
heart was thundering in her chest.

“My
mind wasn’t in a good place, and all I wanted was revenge. But ever since I saw
you something in me shifted. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it, any of it.”
A second of silence passed between them. “But no more, Angelina. It’s you and
me, and I don’t want to fuck this up any more than I have.”

She
nodded, knowing what he meant.

“God,
you’re so fucking beautiful. You shouldn’t want me because of the type of man I
am.” She saw his throat work as he swallowed, felt his fingers rubbing over her
leg, back and forth. He stared at her eyes, moved an inch closer so he was
right in front of her now and his cock was right between her thighs.

 
“Spread your legs wider. Let me see your
soaking cunt.”

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