Betrayed (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 2) (2 page)

BOOK: Betrayed (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 2)
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He stares at me for a couple of beats, but he drops the subject. Which is wise. Whatever his blood connection to me, I still can’t think of him as my father. I can’t go there, it’s way too soon. Maybe I never
will
be able to see him as my father, I don’t know. And I certainly don’t want him acting like he is, I ain’t dealing with that crap.

‘Everything OK?’

‘Everything’s fine. You want something?’

He moves further into the room and closes the door behind him, which causes me to eye him suspiciously. ‘Izzi.’

‘What about her?’

‘You still dealing with her and Zeb all right?’

I laugh. I can’t help it. What the fuck does this guy think I am? Some love-struck teenager who can’t get over losing the hottest girl in school to the biggest jerk in class? ‘Unless there’s something club-related you want to talk about, I got things to do, so…’

‘You don’t think you, Izzi and Zeb are club business?’

I place my hands palm-down on the table and lean forward, fixing him with a look that, I hope, tells him I ain’t doing this. ‘Like I said, Sam, unless there’s something club-related you want to talk about, I’m busy.’

He walks towards the table and stops once he’s opposite me, his hands in his pockets, an almost impassive expression on his face. ‘Do you think Izzi’s OK?’

‘How the fuck should
I
know? What the hell are you asking
me
for?’

‘Because you care about her, Mack.’

I let out another laugh, but there’s a slightly nervous edge to that one that I manage to pull back from. No way am I letting him think he’s getting to me, I’ve had enough of this guy’s amateur psychology. ‘I think Izzi can look after herself. She don’t need any of us to do that for her.’

The room fills with another heavy, loaded silence and I’m really pissed off now. Where does he get off coming in here, laying his cryptic shit on me?

‘Let it go, Sam.’

‘Is that what
you’ve
done?’

I ain’t doing this no more. I got enough to be dealing with, I don’t need this crap. ‘Let it go.’

He gets the message. He ain’t that stupid. He knows when to leave things alone. ‘This job we’ve got Thursday night…’

‘What about it? I thought everything was all sorted?’

‘It is. Just checking all your men are up-to-speed.’

‘It’s a simple drop-off, Sam.’

‘We shouldn’t consider anything to be “simple”, Mack. Not in this business.’

I open my mouth to say something, then decide against it. He’s no stranger to this life. Just because he don’t want to wear the cut or ride with us don’t mean he don’t understand the way things work. He knows. ‘Everyone knows what they’re doing.’

‘Good.’ He makes for the door, and I keep my eyes on him. I still don’t fully trust him, and I think that’s my right. I’m still working him out, so, yeah, I’m wary. ‘Try not to draw too much attention to yourselves before then, OK?’

He turns to face me, and I throw him a questioning look.

‘This party tonight. I know you’re patching in a couple of new members, and I know how these parties…’

‘What’s your point, Sam?’

‘There’s no need to draw any unnecessary attention to the club, Mack, that’s all I’m saying. We’re still newcomers to this town, so let’s not aggravate the locals any more than we have to. Let’s make them grateful we’re here to look out for them.’

I narrow my eyes as I stare at him. ‘You saying I’m not running this club right?’

‘I’m saying you became distracted. Maybe you still are…’

‘Hey! You wanna stop right there? I ain’t fucking distracted…’

He takes a step towards me and his eyes, man, they’re seriously intense. And for the first time I see a piece of me in there, in him, and that kinda freaks me out for a second. ‘You were distracted when you came here. And I think there’s a part of you that’s still distracted, and you need to lose that, Mack. You need to focus, or we can’t do this. You still want Izzi? Then you need to walk away.’

‘I thought that’s what you wanted, me and her…’

‘It was. It
was
. But she threw us a curve ball when she fell in love with Zeb. And I’m not sure you’ve dealt with that yet. I’m not sure you’ve accepted it.’

I laugh in his face, he ain’t doing this shit. ‘I ain’t distracted.’

He raises an eyebrow, and I swear, I could lay him out right here, right now.

‘If you still want her, Mack, then you need to walk away. Things have changed. Everything’s different. And this club matters to you, I know it does. It matters. And all it’ll take to fuck everything up is one, stupid act. Don’t you agree?’

‘I think you need to watch what you say to me because you are sailing dangerously close to pissing me off, big time.’

‘You’re not a weak man, Mack.’

Jesus!

‘Now, like I said, let’s not draw too much attention to ourselves with this party tonight. OK?’

Seriously? He’s just leaving that conversation there? What the
fuck
…? But I ain’t got the energy to react to his crap. ‘I thought you had connections in the police department.’

‘I do. But there’s only so much my man there can do for us, so…’

‘So, what? A couple of beers then send everyone home before the clock strikes midnight?’ Yeah. I’m getting real pissed off now.

‘Lose the sarcasm, Mack. I’m trying to help, that’s all.’

I narrow my eyes again and lean back against the window-sill, folding my arms. ‘You don’t get to tell me how to run this club, remember? That ain’t your role.’

He just throws me a smile that irritates the crap outta me, and walks away, leaving the door open behind him which, for some reason, fucks me off more than anything. Or is it just the fact that Sam is about the only one around here who can see through my shit? And that makes me nervous. Like I said, I still ain’t all that trusting of him, and until I got good reason to let those doubts go, I’m gonna stay wary.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Zeb

 

Some say I control her, but they ain’t ever said it to my face. Ain’t no fucker stupid enough to do that, but I know what they think. Given how this woman came to me; how we met, it stands to reason people’s opinions are pretty much fucked-up when it comes to me and Izzi. But I love her. In my own way. She’s my beautiful, messed-up girl and I fucking love her. And I ain’t loved no-one before, hell, I don’t think I even knew what love was, until Izzi.

‘You OK, handsome?’

She winds her arms around my neck and I smile, and remember the day I first met her. She’d been this shy, almost timid girl but I could see the anger behind her eyes; the determination she had inside of her to do whatever it was she needed to do. And some might find it hard to believe that, at first, any physical attraction I had towards her had been limited, considering my part in turning her into the cold and driven woman she became. I spent my days fucking her hard, holding her naked body in my arms, teaching her all kinds of twisted shit until she was riding me like a true biker bitch. I got to touch her, lick her, put my fingers inside her; feel her mouth around my throbbing cock as I taught her how to make a man come in seconds. Yet, at first, I treat it like the job it was. Sam had given me a task, and I don’t fuck with Sam. He wanted me to change this woman completely, because that was what
she
wanted. But maybe, deep down, something
had
been there, even in those days when I was treating her as nothing more than my willing pupil. I guess there are only so many times you can have a crazy-beautiful woman almost half your age naked and wrapped around you before you succumb; before your heart starts to overrule your fucked-up head.

‘I’m fine, princess.’

She rests her mouth on mine and I push my hand into the small of her back so her body molds against me, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of my neck. Ain’t nobody ever given me goose bumps or made my stomach feel like it’s being pulled around like an elastic band, but she makes me feel all of that. And it’s confusing, at times, because I ain’t a guy that deals well with emotion. I was brought up by my father and a series of “mommas” within a string of outlaw MCs around the country, and I guess, growing up, we didn’t really do emotion. We never seemed to be in one place long enough for anything like that to develop. I don’t remember anyone telling me they loved me, and there were no hugs or bedtime stories or anyone telling me I was safe and looked after. That shit just didn’t happen. And to this day I ain’t ever asked who my real momma was because I knew better. If my father had wanted me to know, he’d have told me.

I was brought up tough. The only real lessons I learned in life were the ones that bruised and hurt, and school, man, that was just some place I went to ‘cause I had to. Although, I can remember one teacher telling my dad that I was college material. The next day he pulled me outta school and set me to work at the club, and I didn’t fight it. I’d been born into this life, what choice did I have? I became a prospect, and given no special treatment despite my dad being President, but as time went on I grew to like the idea of a nomadic lifestyle more and more. Stability, yeah, that had never really been my thing. I could’ve had any woman I wanted – and many of ‘em wanted
me
, given as I was connected to the President. I was a way in for those biker mamas and the bitches who were looking to be someone’s old lady. And I guess me and my cousin, we had something in common when it came to not wanting to be tied down. I played those women, I tried ‘em all, and I had fun, man, did I! But I got bored, needed something more, and taking off on my bike, spending time at other chapters, fucking their women and drinking their liquor, that was good for me. I fucking needed that space. And then I got the offer I couldn’t refuse. And when I say I couldn’t refuse it, I mean that. When Sam contacted me, after my dad had been to see him in prison – the brother he told me he hadn’t even known he had – I was instructed to visit him myself. He wanted to talk to me, and I wasn’t told why, but it was made very clear I had little choice in the matter. He’s an extremely persuasive man is Sam, when he needs to be. So I went to see him. I spoke to him. And I was made aware of the reason why I had very little choice in the matter – I work for Sam, or my father dies. It was that simple. Did I ever think about just saying no? I mean, my dad, he wasn’t exactly father-of-the-year material. But I couldn’t see him die because I walked away from a challenge. And what Sam was offering me, that was a challenge. It was something new, something different. And maybe I owed it to my father to show him some kinda loyalty, even though what he’d done, man, that was stupid. And Sam, he had every right to be fucked off with Kes. And the rest, that’s history. It just happens that I don’t feel like I’m doing this because I have to now. I like working with Sam. He’s been more of a father to me than Kes ever was, and I kinda respect him, for keeping his cool in a situation where I woulda been way less restrained. And besides, if it hadn’t been for Sam I’d never have met Izzi. I wouldn’t be married and, hell, that ain’t something I thought I’d ever be. Married. If it wasn’t for Sam I’d probably be dead, because thinking about it, my life had no real direction before he turned up with his twisted ultimatums. I was drifting; riding away the days with no real idea of where I was ever gonna end up. And I ain’t saying I’m gonna be here, in New Mexico, part of the Soldiers of Darkness; I ain’t saying I’m gonna be here forever. It’s just that, this time, if I feel like taking off and riding the days away then Izzi’ll be with me. She’ll be with me.

‘You should come join the party,’ she murmurs, her mouth still resting against mine and I breathe her in. She smells of beer and cigarette smoke, her dark, musky perfume filling my nostrils and I close my eyes and kiss her again, gently nipping her lower lip with my teeth, and she laughs. And that sound, man, it’s fucking beautiful. She didn’t laugh all that much, before she put an end to Viper’s sorry life. But now she laughs, a lot;
we
laugh, a lot. ‘It’s not like you to be stood on the sidelines.’

‘Sometimes I just like to watch you at work,’ I whisper, and she smiles, and I feel all kindsa crap kicking off inside my head. We’ve got such a fucked-up relationship, even
I
can see that. But I like to watch her flirt with the other guys, I encourage it. Why? Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m still getting my head around the fact she’s my old lady; still trying to work out what being in love really means. I ain’t felt this shit before, and it’s utterly terrifying at times. So, yeah, I kinda push her towards having fun, I can deal with this all a whole lot better if we don’t stray too far from the people we used to be, before I put a ring on her beautiful finger.

‘You like to watch me do a lot of things,’ she breathes, pushing her tits right against me and I feel her nipples hard and prominent beneath the thin material of her T-shirt.

‘You bet your pretty ass I do.’

I slide a hand up under her T-shirt and she gasps quietly as my hand connects with her skin, and for a few seconds I just leave it there, resting against the curve of her waist, enjoying the feel of her. And then I kiss her, and my hand moves slowly up to her tits, my thumb flicking over her nipple and she gasps again, the sound low and deep as it seeps into me. But I ain’t done yet. I push her T-shirt higher, exposing those perfect tits, and I bend my head and take a nipple in my mouth, and she moans long and slow as I suck on her. She buries her fingers in my hair as my tongue sets to work, and I hold onto her hips as she arches her back, pushing her tits harder against me, man, I
married
this girl? How fucking lucky can one guy get? And then she pushes my head away from her, and she smiles again, and I know I’m on one hell of a promise for later.

She takes my face in her hands and she kisses me like the dirty angel she became, after the lessons I gave her. And there are days when I still feel guilty about what we turned her into, but it was her choice. Maybe we could’ve stopped her, found those consciences we very rarely put in play, but those aren’t the kinda guys we are. And she seems happy now. She’s not that cold, fucked-up woman she became for a while, when the only thing on her mind was some twisted retribution. She’s trying to put that woman behind her, and those changes I see in her every day, they’re good. I like the new Izzi. Or is she trying to resurrect the old one? I ain’t sure, and there are days when I ain’t certain
she
is, either. There are days when I see the darkness back in her eyes, when the nightmares and the guilt weigh heavy on her shoulders, but there are also days when those black clouds lift and she becomes this beautiful, happy young woman who’s just trying to move on. She’s trying to fit in to this world she was thrown into, and not out of choice. But she said she couldn’t ever go back to the U.K., there are too many memories there; things she doesn’t want to remember. But did we change her so much that we gave her no option to rethink that decision? Have we embedded her too deep into this God-forsaken world we inhabit? One she never really belonged in? But I think she belongs here now. It’s like she’s always been here, a part of this life. But was that
our
fault?

 
‘You OK?’ she asks, and I realize I’d drifted off there. I don’t often over think shit, but there are days now when I can’t help it.

‘I’m fine, baby. Go on. You go back and enjoy the party.’

‘You not joining me?’

She cocks her head to one side and I notice how young she looks, when she does that; when she looks at me that way. Should I not have looked after her more? Jesus, what the hell kinda person am I turning into here?

‘I’ll be over soon.’ I kiss the tip of her nose and she laughs quietly, and my stomach once more delivers the kinda acrobatic display I’m getting used to now. ‘Go on.’ I gently smack her ass and she winks at me, and mouths something that sets my cock aching. Shit, I taught that girl well. But I can’t let her change me. And maybe I’ll never be the kinda man she really needs, but there are pieces of me she can’t ever see. And I need it to stay that way. For her sake, as well as mine…

 

 

Izzi

 

Mack leans back against the wall beside me and lights up a cigarette, offering me the packet. I shake my head and continue to stare out ahead of me. The party’s spilled out into the compound, and I watch as people chat and laugh and drink and I feel like I’ve been here forever. The life I once had; the person I used to be, she seems like a million miles away now. And I’m glad. I needed her to go, to leave me to pick up the pieces and start again. And I think I’m just about managing to do that.

‘You out here for a reason?’

I turn my head to look at Mack. He’s grown his hair a bit longer now, and his beard’s a lot fuller than it used to be, and he still has that incredible aura around him that makes him the kind of man women can’t stay away from. Except me. I walked away from him, because I had to. He didn’t deserve me. He deserves someone so much better than me, someone less fucked-up. Someone who can love him like he needs to be loved, because I’m not sure I could’ve done that. ‘Do I need a reason? To come out here?’

He shrugs and stares out ahead of him, taking another drag on his cigarette. ‘Everything OK, with you and Zeb?’

‘You don’t have to ask me that every time you see me, Mack. Everything’s fine, with me and Zeb. We’re good.’

He drops his gaze, and I take another opportunity to just look at him for a second or two.

‘How about
you
, huh? How are
you
doing?’

He slowly raises his gaze and smiles slightly as his eyes meet mine. ‘Maybe we should just quit with the small talk, Izzi, all right?’

I want to look away, but I can’t. Instead I reach out and gently run my fingers through his hair, and then he catches my wrist and pulls my hand away, and still our eyes are locked together. ‘You suit your hair longer.’

‘Your messed-up husband catches you touching me, Izzi, and you know what’ll happen.’

‘He doesn’t…’

‘Own you? Is that what you were gonna say? Jesus, Izzi, come on, honey. Of course he owns you. Whatever fucked-up, crazy game he wants to play; whatever twisted kicks he gets from watching you flirt like some low-down mama with any brother who’s willing to play, and let’s face it, baby, there ain’t one of ‘em in there who’d even
think
about turning you down…’

‘You make me sound like some cheap whore.’

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