Two Sides of Noelle: MC Romance (Demon Rebels MC Book 2) (6 page)

Even with this knowledge, I still was going to keep my distance. It all was a big fat fucking act to purposely piss us off and scare us away from contacting her again. Why? That question over and over haunted me enough to bring it up to Wood. To make him see through the hurt to what I saw. But his shit is still so fucked up from that bitch, Sara, my words didn’t penetrate. But I’m damned sure something needs to get through to him about Noelle because she wouldn’t have cut this fucking deep without a reason. She got to him. And she fucking got to me.

That’s why I’m here. To discover why that after two fucking weeks I can still taste her. Still feel the hot silky clench of her tight pussy. Still see the hot flash of desire in her deep almost whiskey colored eyes, begging me to fuck her again. The courage to protect herself, I don’t agree with the way she did it, fuck no, but courage it was. Her vulnerability along with her sizable set of proverbial balls, sparked my interest in a way that no other has before. No random whore. Noelle.

I have to know more about her. Her secrets. Dreams. Desires.

Fuck. Me.

I sound like a fucking Valentine’s day Hallmark card.

Killing my bike’s engine by the curb and dropping the kickstand, I run my scarred hand over the red and gold phoenix tattoo on the back of my head that’s visible through my buzzed black hair. The words ‘From the ashes I have been reborn’ scroll down my neck from ear to ear and arch along my shirt line. A message seen whether I’m dressed or shirtless. I wanted nothing covering it from wondering eyes.

Speaking of eyes, I roll mine at the nosey gawkers walking the sidewalk and crack my neck side to side. Like they’ve never seen a fucking biker before and I’m a rare and new freak show hittin’ town. With my scars, ink, cut, and downright glowering façade, maybe I am a freak to these wholesome people. Compared to me they are wholesome; no matter what skeletons hide in the darkest corners of their closets. My shit is fucked up.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Why would I even want to try with a woman like Noelle?

Fuck it. I want her. I’m not honorable or a gentleman. I’m not self-sacrificing or unselfish.

Not anymore.

The man I once was is gone, dead. I get what I want now. Or I take it.

The door dings when I push it open, alerting the salesperson to my presence. Walking up to the counter I take in the older man shrewdly. Salt and pepper hair. Nervous eyes. About six inches shorter than my six foot five inches. Slightly overweight. No real outward appearance of strength.

No threat.

“Can I help you find something?” The man’s voice shakes slightly in his question. By the twitch of his left eye I can tell he wishes he was anywhere but here, with me. Is his fight or flight instinct about to kick in? I chuckle inwardly. I’ll give him ten more second before he chooses flight and scrambles away like a little bitch.

“Noelle,” I demand in an almost growl, my voice raspy and rusty from disuse. You wouldn’t call me much of a talker. Conversations are useless. Once again I wonder what the fuck I’m doing here. Trying to get to know a woman means conversations. Talking. Shit, I’m no good at it.

The man in front of me narrows his eyes. “What do you want with her?”

“Not your business. She here or not?” Last time I’m asking. I’m not a patient person. Next I’ll just check the store and find her my own goddamned self without the information this fuckwit is withholding from me.

Said fuckwit leans over the counter and glares at me. “My daughter is always my business. Answer my question or get the hell out of my store.” His tone is angry and low, his eyes locked onto mine.

Hmmm…I misjudged him. That doesn’t happen often. His courage is commendable I will give him that, but he is still standing between me and what I want. That’s a dangerous position to be in. “Your kid or not, she’s an adult, still not your business. But I will tell you that I am not here to hurt her, in any way.” I wait while he does his own onceover of my person before nodding.

“She is in the backroom.” He points down a hallway behind the counter. “If I hear so much as a squeak of distress come from that room I will call the police and grab my shotgun.”

The corner of my mouth twitches in amusement. Completely misjudged. I like this old man. I nod my head while walking past him down the hallway. The office door sits not two feet from the exit door in the back of the hallway. My neck and shoulders tighten. There’s not even an alarm on the exit. What a joke in security. The old man needs to fucking step up. He shows protectiveness in his child but puts her in a room, alone, away from him and next to a door that anyone could walk into or out of with no one the wiser. Was there even a security camera?

Jesus, this woman is already more of a hassle.

The door opens silently after twisting the knob followed by a push and I quickly scan the small room. White walls, fake trees in two corners, one lonely chair, desk, file cabinet, and Noelle lightly singing to whatever music is playing through pink ear buds while her eyes skim paperwork and her fingers click on the keys of the ancient looking computer. Tech, the club’s resident hacker, would have a seizure if he saw this stone age shit.

I close the door behind me just a quietly as it opened and lean back against the cool wood before crossing my arms over my chest. My eyes rove over her working form as I wait for her to be alerted to my presence. I’m a big fucking guy, it really shouldn’t take her long.

Her soft hair is pulled up into a tight uncomfortable looking ponytail with a pencil sticking out from the whatever you fucking call the thing that keeps the hair up, scrotum, scrunchit, the fucking hair holder whatever. Black frame glasses set on her straight little nose that keep sliding down to the tip before she pushes them back up. Her soft voice is sweet, filling the air with her songs. She is cute.

Cute? I have to stop the gag in the back of my throat at that word. What the fuck is this woman doing to me!?

Glancing at the clock on the wall, the big fuckers that remind me of the ones you see in a high school, my teeth start grinding. Twenty minutes. She has been oblivious to everything around her, including me, for twenty fucking minutes. Does she have any self-preservation at all? Does she not care about her safety at all? Jesus fucking Christ.

I dropped my arms and shoved them into my jean pockets, the leather of my cut creaking at my swift movements. Her head snapped up. Her eyes widened in shock as she takes my presence in.

About fucking time.

Her hand quickly pulls down on her earphones and she whips off her glasses. “Wh-what are you doing here?” her shocked voice stutters and damn my lips for twitching at her cuteness. That word in my vocabulary turns my smirk into a scowl.

“Caveman?”

I jerk my head up at her. I heard her. Jesus, what am I about to do here?

“Why are you here?” she asks again, nervously.

“I want to see you.” There it is. In a nutshell of what I want. Stick to the basics.

“To see me?” I nod at her question and wait silently.

Confusion clouds her eyes for a second or two. “Like, like you want to look at me for a minute then leave or see me as in dinner, movies, date me see me?”

“All the above.” The confusion clears and is replaced by shock at my words.

“No.” Her head shakes in silent denial to emphasize her verbal denial. Her body shrinks back into her chair slightly and tenses. If she thinks I will explode like Wood did, then she is very wrong. Wood is explosive, I’m more of a hold a grudge implosive person. She would be waiting a very long time. I do what I do best, stare at her. I look into her eyes trying to read her mind. I watch her facial features, like her rapid blinking and her nibbling on her bottom lip. I watch her body language, like her hands tugging on each other then moving to fidget with her glasses. Wait her out.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

I stay silent. I stay still. Her fidgeting becomes more prominent.

“Please. I just can’t. We can’t.” Her voice cracks silently and I inwardly smile. Gottcha, baby. The inner struggle of want and need battling fear and worry. She wants me but fights against it. She may have not verbally agreed, but her body and voice just betrayed her.

I nod at her, push away from the door, and open it wide. Before walking out I catch her eyelids closing, her release of breath, and her body tremble before her tongue swipes at her lips. In the hallway and away from prying eyes I let the smile free, flashing my teeth.

She’s already halfway to being mine.

Breath, breathe, breathe.

My God!

When I asked for a chance I didn’t mean right freaking now!

Caveman’s appearance shocked the ever lovin’ crap out of me. I was not expecting to see him there like I conjured him from my thoughts. I do want to apologize, shit, but I’m not ready now. I haven’t figured out what I was going to say. He caught me so off guard.

Oh no.

I sent him away again.

How am I supposed to say I’m sorry now!

Bending over between my knees I try to stop my body from hyperventilating. When my breathing becomes normal I slowly sit back up and stare at the white door Caveman shut quietly behind him and rack my brain on how I can come back from this new step into fucked up land. Getting a second of his time was hard enough. Now after sending him away, again, hell will have to freeze over before he lets me near him.

Shit.

And the fuck up award goes to…

And geez did he have to freak me out by all that ‘I want to see you’ talk. Date me? The one thing I can’t do right now, with anyone, is what he asked for. Instead of rationally explaining it to him and apologizing for the last time, I zone out and make his opinion of me worse. I would have said not possible because two weeks ago I was a hard act to follow, but apparently I keep the shit rolling downhill.

I thud my head down against my desk a few times in exasperation before a frightening thought pops free.

Would the motorcycle guys all come after me for being mean to some members? Surely nothing too drastic would occur because a bitch pissed off just a few members…right?

Shit, now I’m hyperventilating again.

Once I calm down, again, I focus on the books. I need to get home. To a bottle of the white wine I have hidden in my fridge that Stacy brought over last week. Drunkenness. I feel the need to wallow in that state of mind.

A knock at my office door cuts through my inner freak out.

“Hey, Dad,” I greet when my father walks into the door.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” I answer while rolling my eyes. “Good news is that we are still in the black. That’s about as exciting as it gets back here.” I sigh and stretch my arms out, working out the kinks in my shoulders.

“Yup. But then again, there was some excitement today though.” He leans his shoulder against the wall next to the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest.

At my eyes widening, he nods his head and shoves his hands down into his pants pockets. “You want to talk about that?”

“No.” An infinity of nos.

“Alright then. Well, shops all closed down and I’m out of here.” Dad pushes away from the wall and starts out the office door before I stop him.

“Why did you let him back here?” I ask.

He turns back to me and stands there silently for what feels like hours while he watches me before answering. “Seems like you wanted to risk a walk on the side of dangerous, darlin’. If you’re willing to play with fire, you have to be ready for the consequences of that burn,” he finishes with a level glare before leaving me alone once again.

Shit. And that’s my dad in a nutshell. He doesn’t have to be happy with the choices I make and he supports me as well as listens when I need to talk, but he has always been very firm on having me handle things on my own. After mom passed he never remarried, saying he didn’t have time for romance when he needed to be there for the only girl in his heart. Mom not only did a number on me with her dreams and determination, but also on Dad too. She hid a great deal of her nature from him and at the time, I was too young to know or act on her behavior. I always thought he knew what she was doing and saying and he never did anything to stop her.

I hated him then as I hated her. Mom’s car accident and death revealed a lot, but me and Dad’s relationship was already rocky. Being so alone, hate-filled, and damaged with no one to turn to allowed Stephanie to creep into my life. And that went so very well in the end for me.

Me and Dad’s relationship didn’t start to be repaired until he found me homeless, jobless, and alone. All of which, looking back, was really my fault. I didn’t have anyone to turn to. I thought for sure my dad knew everything and turned a blind eye to what mom was doing, or how I was. Vicious things were said. By me to him. I should have known from his shocked and appalled look on his face as I stormed out of the house, with only a trash bag and two boxes of my only possessions that were not tied to either him or mom. I was so blinded by my anger and hate I refused all contact with him. I thank God every day for the past three years that he kept pushing and refused to give up on me. With nowhere to fall because I was already at rock bottom I listened to his side of the story and accepted his help. Once I learned his side of everything, our little family of two grew stronger than ever at his revelations.