Stone Cold: A Bad Boy Romance (27 page)

Sitting in the empty clubhouse, waiting for Cole to come back was eating away at my nerves. I paced around the bar and pool tables, my fingers locked together. What if Cole was killed? Or seriously injured? I imagined him being brought in, his arms around the shoulders of Tank and Tater. They fling his bullet-ridden body onto one of the pool tables, blood pooling into puddles and pouring into the pockets of the table.

I shook the nightmare away and went to the bar for a drink. I picked up a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a glass. I noticed something funny on the glass and looked closer to find a smudge of blood. Cole tried to shield me from seeing the massacre that happened here but I had seen enough. The corpses littered the floor, their dead eyes staring up at me. Just like Cash back in the basement. Was he still down there? Dead and lifeless. I didn't dare go down there to check. I couldn't face that monster again.

I left the blood-smudged glass on the counter and took the bottle of Jack instead. I sat down on one of the barstools and spun around. The first few tastes scorched the insides of my throat on the way down. As the alcohol warmed me up, the burning sensation subsided.

I wondered how why I was still here. I could leave at any point. Cole nor Byron owned me. I could go back to school. Have friends again. Become a normal girl. I thought about calling Heather to tell her that I was all right. But I had no idea what to even tell her. My story sounded ludicrous. I wasn't even sure
I
believed it.

What I did believe was that my heart was connected to Cole's. I barely knew the man but he had a power about him. It wasn't just all physical attraction either. I would have left the first chance I got if it was only about the sex. Cole was the first
real man
I'd ever met. Someone that I could spend the rest of my life with.

But did I really want to live the outlaw life? This nerve-wracking feeling I was experiencing right now would only be just a taste. I could be living every day in fear that we would be killed by any one of the Rabid Dogs's enemies.

The bar rumbled as I heard motorcycles parking outside.
Please be okay, Cole. Please be okay.
I closed my eyes and chanted over and over again. I couldn't get the image of a almost-dead Cole laying on the pool table.

The door opened and in came Cole, Tater, and Tank. All alive with not even a scratch. I bounded off the bar stool and jumped into Cole's arms, smacking my lips against his. Cole was exhausted. I could see it in his eyes.

“How did it go?” I asked, sitting back down at the bar. Tater and Tank came around and poured themselves drinks.

Cole took a sip from my whiskey bottle. “We hit them hard. Byron lost a man but we took out the majority of The Death Merchants MC.”

Tank lifted his glass. “To our fallen brothers. May you rest easy now that you're avenged.”

Cole almost broke down in tears. He'd been through so much lately. Lost so many friends. Cole lifted the bottle and clinked it against Tank's glass. Tater silently drank in the corner. Even with the success they just had, the men knew that their MC would never be the same. Sacks County would never be the same.

“What now?” I asked Cole.

“We rebuild the Rabid Dogs MC.”

The clubhouse was returned to it's former glory. Claire did her part in cleaning the entire place until it was spotless. The dead were buried and remembered. Cash was a casualty of the Mexicans and Tank and Tater could never know what really happened to him.

The three of us sat around the meeting table that Tater had finally finished carving. A large spider was cut into the wood. The words Rabid Dogs MC were burned into the table. I looked up at the freshly framed photos of the recently deceased. Blaze's eyes stared back at me.

The first time I met him, I was a freshman in high school. He was so big and confident. I thought he had to be a senior because he looked so mature but he was the same age as me. When I found out he was into motorcycles, I tried to learn as much about them as possible just so we would have something in common. I wanted to be just like him. He was our leader and the founder of the Rabid Dogs MC.

The seat at the head of the table was empty. We didn't dare go near it. “First thing we need to do is elect a new president,” I choked out.

Tater spoke up, “There's only one man that can lead us now.” Tank nodded in agreement, grinning at me like a son of a bitch.

I sighed and buried my head in my hands. I never wanted to be president. Blaze was always our leader. How could I ever fill his shoes? I stood up from my seat and was almost tempted to run for the door. I took the chair at the head of the table and sat down. The view looked spectacular. I grabbed the wooden gavel that Blaze had held so many times before. The end was nicked and raw from being hammered down so much. Blaze made a lot of important decisions in this room. Not all of them I agreed with. But the MC wouldn't have gotten this far without him.

I slammed down the gavel. “I bring this meeting to order. All those in favor of Cole as the new President of the Rabid Dogs MC say aye.”

Tank and Tater began slowly pounding the table and then picking up speed until the booming was deafening. The Rabid Dogs MC had a new Prez.

I couldn't fully commit to President until I had taken care of one more thing.

Claire sat at the bar, nursing an entire whiskey bottle. She had been through so much since the kidnapping. And she had stood by me. She was still here after everything I did to her. But I couldn't let my heart govern this club. I needed to be focused one-hundred percent. I couldn't let a chick cloud my mind. Everything was on the line and I wouldn't sacrifice my club for a wet pussy.

Claire's long milky-white legs went on for days. I admired her as she fiddled around on the bar stool. I could take her for a spin one last time—come inside her until my balls were bone dry. I'd love to feel those lips around my throbbing cock, sucking on me so hard. My jeans tightened at just the thought of having Claire. But I couldn't anymore.

I had to be mature and responsible now. It was funny because I never would have considered Blaze “mature” or “responsible.” But he must have been to take the club this far.

I sat down at the bar next to Claire and took a long drag on the bottle of Jack Daniels. I was going to need a lot of liquid courage. The alcohol warmed me on the way down, my head already feeling the buzz. Another couple swigs and I was looking as red as Claire.

“I'm glad you got back safe,” Claire said, facing straight ahead at the bar. “I was worried there for a moment. I didn't know what Byron was going to do to you after you took out the Mexicans. I'm glad he kept his word.”

“Me too,” I replied, grabbing for another bottle of whiskey behind the counter.

“He used to be really nice. My brother. We used to play in the backyard together and he'd protect me from monsters and dragons. I was the fairy princess that always needed saving. But as we grew older, he took things a bit too literally. He was so possessive and demanding. I could never go back to that.”

I took a deep long breath that would hopefully instill me with bravery. “Claire, I'm the new President of the Black Widows now.”

Claire turned to me and smiled. “You deserve it.” Behind her eyes, I could see the gears working. She knew where this conversation was heading.

“I don't know what we have between us but my MC needs me now. I won't have time for relationships. I can't do this with you anymore, Claire.”

Claire dropped her head and nodded. She knew what I was going to say before I even said it. Claire raised her head and looked at me with tears in her eyes. She went to open her mouth to say something but couldn't form any words. My heart was breaking within my chest. I wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right. I wanted to save the fairy princess.

But it would only make matters worse. I turned to walk away, my feet buried in cement. I couldn't let my emotions rule me. I stepped away and Claire whispered my name before I shut the door on her forever. There'd be plenty of sluts to fill my bed and give me that much needed release with no strings attached.

My entire life was crumbling before me. I sat at the bar and polished off a couple bottles of whiskey. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't go back to Byron and I wasn't welcome with the Black Widows anymore.

I couldn't help but laugh at my situation. When I was hostage, all I could think about was escaping from this place. Now I wanted to stay here now more than ever. But Cole was done with me. Like I was some two-cent whore he picked up off the streets. He was just like every other biker. Their head so far up their ass that they couldn't see what was right in front of them.

Fuck Cole. I didn't need him.

I went to the only friend left, Heather. She acted like I had been dead and resurrected. I told her the long story about being kidnapped and all about Cole. She let me stay in her dorm room which her roommate didn't like too much. But I had no where else to go. I couldn't stomach the thought of going back to my parents. They pretty much exiled me after I went to live with Byron.

But what was I supposed to do?

I tried going to class, keep my mind of Cole and the Black Widows. School just didn't interest me much anymore. Heather tried to take me out to a club but I just ended up going back to the dorms early.

Weeks passed by and I thought I was going to go crazy. Sleeping on the floor of Heather's dorm room made me feel like I was homeless. In fact, I was homeless. Barely had any money to my name, and not even a bed to sleep on. My life had hit rock bottom. There was only one place where I belonged now.

Heather thought I was insane for getting a tattoo. “It's not like you, Claire,” she said.

“You don't know me anymore, Heather,” I replied. I didn't like burning the last good friendship I had but it was the truth. I was a different person now.

Heather held my hand as the man with giant plugs in his ears inked my back. The pain was nothing compared to what I had been through the past couple months.

I found myself back at the Rabid Dogs clubhouse. There were a few new faces but the place was still pretty empty. Tater smiled when he saw me approach the bar.

“Didn't think I'd see you around here anymore. What can I get you?”

“A quick shot of whiskey and Cole if he's around.”

Tater poured a shot and yelled across the room. Tank had his head buried in the tits of some Asian whore. “Hey Tank, you've seen the Prez around?”

Tank came up for just enough air to reply. “In the meeting room.” His tongue flicked out and the slut on his lap giggled.

I grabbed the shot and let it slowly drain down the back of my throat. I hadn't seen Cole for more than a month and I had no idea how I'd react. I had to subdue the urge to jump his cock. We weren't like that anymore.

I said my goodbyes to Tater and opened the door to the meeting room. The wood table had a nice carving of a spider and new framed photos had been nailed to the walls of fallen members. Cole sat at the head of the table, his face covered in shadows. He looked like a mob boss right out of the Godfather films.

Cole stood up, his palms face down on the table. “I didn't think I'd see you back here, Claire. My mind hasn't changed.”

His voice was just as deep and sexy as I remembered. My legs shivered as I murmured, “I know...I know. I didn't come back here for you.”

Cole swaggered around the table and came into the light. His chiseled chin looked good enough to eat and his dark eyes stared back at me. The tension between us was palpable. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him. But it wasn't meant to be.

“Now that I'm back to my normal life, I realized I don't want it anymore. I dreamed of it day and night while I was locked away down in your basement but so many things have changed. I want to be apart of something. Become somebody important. The Rabid Dogs MC can give me that.” Cole put up his hand to get me to stop but I wouldn't let him. “I know that a woman can't be a member...but I can help around here. Do anything you ask of me.”

Cole sighed. “I don't know if this life is for you, Claire. I don't want to see you hurt. I couldn't bear it.”

Cole still cared for me and that was nice but I wouldn't let anyone try to shield me anymore. I got enough of that from Byron. I was my own woman now. “I've been here during the worst times of this motorcycle club. And I want to be here to rebuild.” I turned around and lifted the back of my blue blouse. The tattoo was still fresh and stung with pain. Cole's fingers grazed my inked skin and I flinched.

“Property of Rabid Dogs MC,” Cole said, reading aloud my tattoo.

I faced Cole again to see him smiling. “I'm serious about this.”

Cole hugged me and whispered in my ear. “I see that now. Go behind the bar and help Tater out.” His musky scent was overwhelming and I wanted to kiss him so badly. But I had to resist. Someday maybe we could be together. But for Cole, the MC would always be a priority.