Fury (8 page)

And
without another word, and before she could respond to what he’d said, he turned
from her and left her standing there aroused and wet, and feeling so damn
confused.

She
moved away from the wall, her knees buckling, her legs unsteady. Without
another thought she went back into her room, shut the door, and leaned against
it. Her heart was thundering behind her ribs. They may not have done anything,
not really, but what had just happened in the hallway was intense, explosive,
and so damn arousing her entire body was on fire for Fury.

Chapter
Twelve

It
had only been one fucking day and Nando was already feeling like this was going
to be one of the easiest damn jobs he’d ever done. The club was clearly
oblivious to the fact they could be on someone’s shit list, or maybe they
didn’t give a shit. He didn’t know jack about the MC, but what Nando did know
was in order to stay alive there was never a chance to let his guard down. He
was already prepared, always ready for things to go to hell. It’s how he’d
lasted this long in the game.

He
took a hit off the cigarette, finishing it before stubbing it out. Bringing the
scope up again he focused on the club. He didn’t know what the MC had done to
piss off Sal, but it had to be pretty hardcore for the Cardona leader to get
Nando involved.

Nando
was the last line to get shit covered.

Through
the scope he saw two men leaving the MC, one of the fuckers looking like he was
in pain, and hobbling toward an SUV. The other guy tried to help the injured
one, but the one with a serious limp pushed him off. They argued for several
seconds before they started making their way toward the vehicle again. And then
three more big fuckers in leather vests came out of the clubhouse looking
pissed as they headed toward the vehicle.

All
the men started speaking, their expressions warping to rage the longer they
spoke. Nando didn’t know what was up, or if this would be the lead to find
Angelina, but he didn’t fucking care either. It was like watching a train wreck
as these assholes came undone together.

After
watching them for several minutes Nando grabbed his shit and left the motel. This
might be the easiest fucking job he’d even been paid to do.

Once
in his car he was about to crank the engine and follow the SUV once it hit the
road, but he spotted a taxi pulling up to the front gates. He watched as a
young woman got out, a suitcase in her hand. She stood there for several
seconds just staring at the MC, the taxi finally pulling away moments later. It
was clear she was at war with herself. When she finally made her way to the
gate and was let through, Nando leaned back in the driver’s seat.

He
didn’t have time to be curious about some bitch that was involved with the
Bleeding Mayhem, but then again she might be a little leverage in this game.

This
was a war, and he was going to be the victor one way or another.

****

This
had to be a mistake, she knew that, but Allie didn’t know where else to go. She
gripped the handle of the suitcase tightly and breathed out slowly as she
walked up the paved driveway to the Bleeding Mayhem clubhouse. Only glancing
over her shoulder once, she saw the two MC members that had let her through the
gates staring at her. Focusing forward again, Allie felt her heart thundering.
She didn’t know how her mother would react to her being here. Her mom had left
years ago, and they’d spoken rarely as the years went on, but her mother was
all the family Allie had. Her father, that worthless asshole, was drunk more
times than not, and as soon as Allie graduated high school she had told herself
she’d leave. Well, she had, but it had been into the arms of an abusive man that
took from her more than she was willing to give. Now at twenty-three she was
tired of the shitty life she’d always thrown herself into, and wanted a fresh
start.

She
hoped she found that here, or at least had her mother’s support and help in
getting there.

Grabbing
the handle of the front door she pulled it open. The music was the first thing
that slammed into her, followed by the scent of cigarette and weed smoke. But
Allie was used to this type of scene. Her father had been the partying type for
as long as she could remember. Allie had just been used to locking herself in
the basement and cranking her own music up, drowning out the sounds above her.

She
waited for her vision to adjust, and then glanced around the clubhouse. It was
clearly a party scene, but it was surprisingly clean. Leather couches were on
one side, pool and foosball tables on the other. A full bar was up against the
wall across from her, and there was a hallway next to that. Some closed doors
were scattered around, and pictures of men on motorcycles, women half dressed,
and even a half dismembered Harley hung from the ceiling. It was quite a scene.

“Hey,
honey, I think you’re in the wrong place.”

Allie
looked over at the woman who spoke. She was drunk, or at least smelled like a
brewery. She also had on a tube top that was pulled down so one of her tits was
hanging out. Her skirt wasn’t much better, not with the damn thing pulled down
low and nearly showing off her pussy.

“No,
I’m in the right spot. I’m looking for Barbie.” Allie didn’t know if her mother
was going by that name or not, especially since she was at the clubhouse. But
given the way the woman looked confused, Allie had to assume she either wasn’t
here, or she didn’t go by Barbie.

The
woman turned and faced the people milling around. “Hey, anyone know a Barbie?”

There
was a rush of murmurs, some people shaking their heads. Allie started to get
discouraged that maybe her mother had bailed on this location, as well, but
she’d just spoken to her a month ago—and before that it had been going on a
year since they’d talked. Her mother wasn’t exactly the winner of Mother of the
Year.

And
then there she was, coming out of the hallway, her focus on her skirt as she
pulled it down. A big guy in leather followed behind, buttoning up his pants
and fixing his belt.

Nice.

“Anyone
know a Barbie?” the woman hollered out again.

Allie’s
mother snapped her head up, and their gazes clashed.

Yeah, Mom, it’s really me.

Her
mother walked up to her, stared at Allie for long seconds, and then pulled her
in for a hug. She smelled like cigarettes and sex, a scent that had Allie
wrinkling her nose.

“Who
the hell is Barbie?” the drunk woman said from behind them, and Allie pulled
away from her mom to look at the woman. She had her hand braced on the wall,
and swayed slightly.

“I
am,” Allie’s mother said.

The
drunken woman blinked. “I thought you were Trixie.”

Allie
looked at her mom, a brow lifted. Her mother shrugged and smiled.

“Barbie
is my real name.”

The
drunken lady nodded, still looked confused, and then turned and left.

“What
are you doing here?” Allie’s mother asked.

For
a second she didn’t answer, didn’t want to admit that she’d allowed herself to
get involved with an asshole that verbally abused her and slapped her around.
It was humiliating, because what stupid fucking woman—who knew better, which
she did—allowed herself to be treated like that? Allie’s mom had left because
her father had been a prick to her, and she had her own issues. But there was
still a part of Allie that was so angry with her mom for leaving her there, for
abandoning her even if she sent money and called. How many times had Allie
asked her mother to come get her, to take her away?

Drugs, depression, and being
bipolar will do that to a person.

But
her mom looked clean and healthy. “You look good,” Allie said.

Her
mother smiled. “Thanks, hun. I’m been sober for a while now, and just got back
on my meds. Things are doing well.”

Yet you still only called me once a
year unless I tracked you down.

Don’t go down that path.

You’re here now, need her help, and
she looks well.

“As
glad as I am to see you, I am surprised you’re here. Everything good?”

Allie
wasn’t going to beat around the bush. She’d traveled too far and left what
little she had in order to start new. She shook her head, being honest. “No,
things aren’t good.” Just then the sight of this massively huge man coming out
of one of the rooms drew Allie’s attention. He had to be at least six and a
half feet tall, and weighing close to three hundred pounds of pure muscle. He
was huge, and her five-foot-seven frame seemed tiny compared to him. Allie
couldn’t stop looking at him. He placed a joint to his mouth, lit the end, and
inhaled deeply, the end becoming red. He tipped his head to a few of the bikers
that called out to him. But the music was so loud she couldn’t hear what they’d
called him.

Allie
was aware her mother was rambling on, but for whatever reason she just couldn’t
look away from the man. And when he went up to the bar, sat down, and braced a
hand on the counter, she felt her heart beat faster. There was something about
him that drew her like a moth to a flame. It was such a clichéd saying, but in
this moment that was exactly how she felt.

And
then he turned his head, scanning the club right before his focus landed on hers.
Allie couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t turn away and not seem weird for gawking
at him. His dark hair was short and messy, like he didn’t give a shit about how
it looked. He had tattoos covering both of his arms, and she even saw some
coming up from under the collar of his shirt. How much of his body was inked
up? Tattoos were one of her weaknesses on a man, for sure.

Maybe that’s why I get involved
with the wrong guys, because their tatted up bodies were ones bad boys sported?

The
man straightened, his massive body looking like one she would see in a ring,
taking down his opponents.

“You
can’t stay here, Allie,” her mother said, and Allie snapped her head toward her
mother’s direction.

“What?”
she asked, shocked. “Why?”

“This
isn’t a place I want you to be at. You’re better than this.”

Allie
shook her head, knowing she looked incredulous. Her mother was saying those
words because they were a cop-out for not wanting to be around her. “You’re
turning me away when I need your help?”

“No,
honey, no. I have an apartment I rarely stay at, but have all my shit there.
You’re more than welcome to stay there.”

Allie
couldn’t believe this. On one hand she was thankful her mother was offering her
a place, but on the other hand it was clear Barbie didn’t want Allie at the
same place she hung out at.

“So
you’re never at the apartment?” She tried to hide her hurt and disappointment.

Why do you care? This woman hasn’t
been a mom to you for so long it shouldn’t matter.

Her
mother shook her head. “I really only stop there to pick up my shit. I’m at the
club mostly.”

Allie
just nodded, hurt, but knowing she shouldn’t be. Her mother had left her years
ago, and although she appeared like she was cleaning herself up, she still
didn’t want a daughter hanging around.

“We’ll
talk about this and why you’re really here later tonight okay?” Her mom grabbed
a piece of paper and pen from a nearby table and wrote down where the apartment
was. “I’ll be there later.”

Allie
didn’t say anything, just gave one more look at her mom, and lifted her head to
where the beefy man was sitting. He had his focus still trained on her, and a
chill raced up her spine. Without thinking anymore about this she left the
club, walked out the open gates, and sat her ass down on the curb. She should
just leave, but she had nowhere else to go, and little money.

Why did I even bother coming here?
I should have known Barbie wouldn’t have been there for me, not really.

But
Allie had no place else to go, and this was her last option … her only option.

Allie
stood, adjusted her suitcase, and started walking down the street and away from
the clubhouse. The feeling of being followed had her looking over her shoulder.
A dark vehicle stopped right behind her, which had Allie curious. Was it
someone from the club? The man behind the wheel had dark glasses on and his
focus trained right on her.

A
tingling on the back of her neck told her this was a bad situation, but she
couldn’t move as she watched him exit the vehicle and walk toward her. And then
fear slammed into her, and there was only one thing she thought at that moment…
You should run.

****

“You
shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” Birdie said and shifted on the seat. He
was starting to sweat sitting in this position, the pain pretty damn intense.
But he gritted his teeth and pushed past it, because his focus right now was
getting to Fury and seeing what in the hell was up. When Stone didn’t say
anything, Birdie looked over at the other MC member. The guy had his jaw locked
tight, and the annoyance on his face was clear.

Birdie
didn’t give a fuck.

“It
wasn’t their fucking business.”

Stone
swerved off to the side of the road and threw the SUV into park. He shifted on
his seat so he was facing Birdie. “It wasn’t their fucking business?”

Birdie
didn’t respond and kept his expression stoic.

“We
are a damn brotherhood, an MC, and fucking family. The club is always kept in
the loop. You being a Patch means you follow the rules.”