The MC Sinners Series 2 - Heaven's sinners (8 page)

“I don’t want to go with you,” I whisper.

“Get on the fuckin’ bike, so help me god, I’ll fuckin’ put my hand to your ass, Ciara.”

His voice is like ice. Swallowing, I struggle to step forward, but all I manage is a wince of pain. Growling, Spike steps closer and I expect him to hurl me forward and hurt me even further, but instead he scoops me into his arms...gently. He carries me up to his bike and puts me on the back.

I stare down at my clothes: I’m covered in dirt. Spike thrusts a helmet at me, and, with shaky hands, I put it on. He walks over to my car, closing and locking it, before climbing onto the bike in front of me. I wrap my arms around him, not wanting anymore arguing, and we speed off into the night, both of us no doubt as confused as the other.

We pull up out front of my house, and I quickly climb off the bike. I’m limping quite heavily right now, but all I can think about is the pain in my heart.

I’m surprised when Spike gets off the bike too. He has no reason to be here with me, and I don’t understand why he feels the need to continue to pretend like he does. He doesn’t want to be here, I know that as well as he does. I don’t want his pity just because my sister would want him taking care of me. I’m no-one’s charity case, especially not someone that is being forced to look out for me because of guilt.

“You need to let me look at that foot.”

I stop hobbling towards my door and turn, staring at him.

“Why?”

He crosses his arms, and throws his leg over the bike before striding towards me. “’Cause it’s my fault you ran outta gas in the first place, so I’m goin’ to make sure you’re okay before I leave. Don’t bother fuckin’ arguin’ with me, Ciara. It won’t change my mind.”

I open my mouth to argue, but quickly close it again. The look on his face is that of threat. He’s not going to back down. With a deep, defeated sigh, I turn and continue hobbling towards the door.

I unlock it and step inside. Spike follows close behind me. I head into the kitchen, desperate for a hot drink and some painkillers. I hear Spike stop walking, and turn to see him staring at a picture of Cheyenne and I after they were married. I think it was one of their anniversary parties. It was, without a doubt, the hardest day of my life. Seeing the man who stole my heart, celebrating his love with another woman is something I could never live through again. But I did it, for her.

“Remember that day...” he says, his voice gruff.

“Yeah,” I say in a small, weak voice. “Me too.”

Our eyes meet for a moment, before I quickly turn back to the boiling water.

“You need to sit so I can look at your foot.”

“I’m fine, it’s...”

“Sit the fuck down,” he barks.

I turn, giving him a glare. He crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes and challenging me, just daring me to argue.

“I need to shower and...”

“Sit. Now.”

Growling, I hobble over to the lounge and sit down. Spike kneels in front of me and grips my foot, slipping off my shoe. He raises it and inspects it. I can see it’s swollen and purple. Great. Just what I need right now. Something else to stop me from working.

“Lookin’ like it could be fracture, or at the least, badly bruised. You need to keep this up for a few days.”

“You can’t be serious,” I cry. “I have a job I need to go to!”

“Well, you ain’t goin’ to it.”

I start to cry. It’s pathetic, but I can’t help it. Big fat tears stream down my cheeks. Dammit. Why does this keep happening?

“Ah shit,” Spike grunts. “Don’t start cryin’.”

“Can you just leave?” I snap through my tears. “Just go and leave me the hell alone.”

“Hey,” he growls. “Look at me.”

I keep my eyes directed at my lap.

“Now, Tom Cat.”

Hearing him call me Tom Cat has shudders wracking my body. It’s been so long, and the swell of emotion in my chest is nearly too much, but I lift my face, meeting his gaze.

“I might not be a great person, but I’m not enough of a fuckin’ prick to leave a girl who is hurt because of me. I also won’t let her take the fucked up end of the stick because of my actions. You tell me how much you need to cover you for a few days off, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I’m not going to do that, Spike.”

“You don’t get a choice. Give me a number, or I’ll make one up.”

“No.”

“Fine,” he says, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He grips a wad of cash out and thrusts it at me. “That should cover it.”

I stare at the cash in my hands, and gape. “I wouldn’t make this much in a week.”

“Fuckin’ need to speak with Joe about how much he pays his girls,” he says under his breath, and then he meets my eyes again. “I fucked that bar, ‘cause I took the first swing. It ain’t on you and you shouldn’t have to miss out ‘cause of me. Take it, don’t argue, and we’ll both go our separate ways.”

“Are we ever going to be friends again, Spike?”

He narrows his eyes, and his expression becomes hard. “Don’t mistake this kindness for us being friends. I’m doing it because I fucked up. There ain’t nothin’ more to it. You ain’t ever gonna be more than an acquaintance, Ciara.”

Ouch. That burns. It burns me right down to my core. His words affect me in a way I wasn’t prepared for, and I do the only thing I can to cover the hurt. I get angry.

“Get out, Spike,” I hiss. “I don’t need your fucking pity. I’ve lived this long without your ‘kindness’, and I don’t need it now. If you can’t even be my friend, then do me a favor, and get the fuck out of my life. I should have never trusted you, and I should have never wasted so many years of my life wanting something that was clearly never worth fighting for. I’m done, Spike. I’m done trying to fix you. You’re right, there’s nothing good left in you. Nothing at all.”

I get to my feet and I thrust the cash at him. Then I turn and walk off down towards the hall. Just as I reach it, I turn and growl, “You know where the door is.”

Then I disappear into the darkness. I stand there for long moments, just listening. I hear him go - the door slams, his bike starts up, and he speeds off down the street.

My chest hurts. It aches so much that I struggle to get a steady breath. I hobble back into the lounge and my eyes fall on the coffee table. And I stop breathing. My vision blurs as tears well in my eyes. A strangled gasp escapes my throat and I grip my chest, as if that will take the pain away. There on the table is the cash, but that’s not what tears my heart to pieces. It’s the bracelet sitting on top of it. A bracelet made of leather, with silver beads representing friendship.

A bracelet I gave Spike a long time ago.

A bracelet that promised lifelong friendship.

A bracelet that swore my loyalty to him.

A loyalty I just broke.

God, what am I fucking doing?

“C
ome on Tom Cat, you’re takin’ your sweet time!” I yell out from the bottom of Ciara’s stairs.

We’re meant to be headed out to the fair, but bloody Ciara is takin’ her sweet fuckin’ time getting ready. As always. I lean against the railing and I run my fingers through my thick, blonde hair. I really need to get rid of this, it’s startin’ to piss me off. I just don’t have it in me to look after hair this long.

I peer up the stairs again. Fuck, women can take their sweet ass time when they want to.

“I’m coming!” she yells.

I grin. I can’t help it. Ciara has that thing about her, she’s like sunshine and rain, all mixed in one sweet ass package.

“So, you’re the Motorcycle Man she’s been babbling about.”

I hear the sweet, silky voice behind me, and turn, letting my eyes fall on a very attractive girl that has to be Ciara’s sister, Cheyenne. She’s told me a lot about her, but I’ve not had the chance to meet her. Grinning, I take her in. She’s different to Ciara, she’s missing those wild cat eyes, but she’s equally as beautiful. She leans her hip against a nearby cabinet, and lets her eyes travel down my body. Is this girl seriously checking me out right now?

“And you must be the Sister.”

She gives me a devilish smile, and steps forward, extending her hand. “Cheyenne, and you are?”

“Spike.”

She raises her brows. “Spike? I thought your name was Danny?”

“I’m Danny to Ciara, but to everyone else, I’m Spike.”

“I didn’t know you were so...hot,” she says, letting those eyes travel over me again.

I laugh huskily. “Yeah, well, good genes.”

“I’ll say,” she giggles. “So, tell me what your intentions are with my Sister?”

I snort. “Ain’t no intentions there, darlin’. She’s my best friend.”

“Ah, so it’s not a romance?”

“No.”

I fuckin’ wish it were sometimes.

“And why is that, Spike?” she purrs, sliding her tongue out and running it over her bottom lip.

Fuck. Ciara’s sister is flirting with me. Openly. Not holding anything back.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She steps forward, running a finger down the front of my shirt. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck
. If only Ciara was this outgoing, maybe then we wouldn’t be dancing around feelings that we both know are there, yet neither of us want to admit. It’s the fear of losing the friendship, but fuck, it’s draining. I’ve wanted Ciara since the day I laid eyes on her. She’s fucking gorgeous, inside and out. She puts me in the friend-zone, though. No matter what I do, no matter how many hints I drop. She just doesn’t see me. I’m tired of it, and in a sense, I guess I’ve given up. If a friend is all I can have her as, then that’s what I’ll stick with. She’s always going to be my girl, but I can’t keep waiting.

“Oh, Spike, I’d love to know. If she is silly enough not to snap you up, I most certainly will.”

I don’t get a chance to answer her, because I see Ciara standing at the top of the stairs. I turn my gaze to her, and my heart stutters. I’m not sure if it’s the long, slightly curled, blonde hair, the full red lips, the porcelain skin, or the yellow eyes, but fuck, she’s perfect. Her blue dress gently sways around her knees as she steps down towards us. Her eyes are on Cheyenne, and her face is filled with something I can’t quite pick. It could be jealousy, or anger. I know the two of them aren’t close, Ciara has told me a little bit about it. Whatever the look, it’s full of emotion. When her eyes finally turn back to mine, I see a hint of betrayal.

“I see you met Cheyenne,” she says, though her voice is empty.

“Yeah, I did.”

“You never told me Spike was so gorgeous,” Cheyenne laughs, placing a hand on my shoulder. I flinch.

“What did you call him?” Ciara asks.

“Oh, didn’t you know that’s what everyone calls him?”

Ciara’s eyes flash with hurt, before she covers it up, and shrugs. “Well, I’m glad you two met. Are we going?”

I nod, extending my hand. Ciara reaches down and takes it, and we turn, heading for the door.

“I’ll see you around, Spike. I’d love to know more about that nickname...perhaps you’ll tell me all about it
next
time you’re here,” Cheyenne purrs again.

Well fuck. Why do I get the feeling this is going to become a complicated situation?

“H
ey Tom Cat!”

I smile as Cade comes running up to me when I’m at the compound the next day. He grins, wide and beautiful, and wraps me in a hug. For a moment, I enjoy the comfort. I need it. More than I realized. He pulls back, and looks down at me, studying my face.

“You don’t come here often, what’s up?”

I force a smile. “I was just after Jackson.”

“He’s in the main bar.”

“Thanks,” I say, walking towards the bar. Cade falls in step beside me. “How were your few days away?”

He nods, grinning. “Fuckin’ sweet. Was good to get away.”

“I bet Addi had a good time?”

“Fuck yeah, she always has a good time with me. She’s a fuckin’ wildcat.”

I shove him lightly, and he laughs.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, biker.”

He wraps an arm around me. “Can’t help it. The girl drives me crazy.”

“Crazy is good.”

He grins down at me, and then spins me around to face him. “She’s inside, go and say hello to her when you’re done with Jacks, yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“You all good?”

I nod, forcing a smile. “I’m good.”

“I’ll catch you later, Tom Cat.”

I watch Cade turn and walk off and then with a shake of my head, I walk inside.

The bar is quiet for a Thursday. It’s usually filling up with bikers by now. Addison is at the bar, drying a batch of glasses. I wave to her when she looks up, and her eyes brighten.

I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. If anyone in the world understands pain, it’s Addi. She’s got a vibe about her that screams survivor, yet at the same time, it screams warmth and friendship. She’s definitely someone you want in your life.

“Hey! Ciara!”

“Hey Addi,” I say, walking over and stopping at the long, wooden bar. I lean my hip on it. “How’s it going?”

She drops the dishcloth and sighs. “Pretty good, sick of work.”

I nod in understanding. “I know what you mean, it’s my first day off in ages.”

“Are you getting paid again?”

I narrow my eyes. “How did you know about that?”

“Spike told Cade.”

I feel my brows raise now. “Spike and Cade speak?”

“They have been, yeah. It’s a slow process, but it’s happening.”

That makes me happy, for both of them. They deserve to find that friendship again. I imagine it would never be quite the same, but something is better than nothing at all.

“I’m happy for them,” I say, fiddling with the end of the dishcloth. “And yeah, I’m getting paid again. Spike gave me some money anyway, but I’m going to give it back.”

Now Addi’s brows raise. “You and Spike have been talking?”

“We’ve been arguing more like it, but yeah...I think I hurt him the other night.”

Addi turns, storming around the bar and stopping in front of me. She grips my shoulders and pulls me towards a table, shoving me down. She sits on the chair over from me, puts her elbows on the table, face in hands and leans forward. “Spill, like now.”