Page 16 of Property of Camo

Again, I say nothing.

With every passing, silent second, my gut tightens, and as hard and dark as I am, I feel the raw emotion in the room with us.

“Since I have not seen you in a week, I can assume that you have been fucking the club girls, because a man with a sex drive like yours cannot go that long without pussy.” Her gaze bores into mine, like she is begging for me to deny it, but my lips stay closed, and I see the defeat enter her gaze and her body deflates.

“I thought so.” Her shoulders go back, her head rises in a show of strength. “Just go, Camo.”

I stay rooted to the spot for seconds, before anger flashes across her face.

“Leave. Go back to the club girls, and forget about me. I cannot do this anymore. Leave and stay away.”

She spins in her chair, looking at the window, and I know this conversation is over. With a grunt, I leave, slamming the door behind me, no doubt making her jump but I can’t bring myself to fucking care.

Storming through the gym, I ignore the glares that Rocky and Clark give me. Reaching my bike, I start her up, before peeling away from the building and heading to the club.

I need a drink or fucking ten to deal with the shit she has spinning around my head.

Why the fuck couldn’t she just leave things as they were?

I grip the handlebars tighter, no doubt my knuckles white from the pressure, but I keep riding, letting the crisp cold air hit my face. People walk around the square, wrapped up in thickwinter coats, hats, and scarves, while I wear a T-shirt and my leather jacket with the club logo proudly on my back.

Salem in fall is always chilly, but closer to Christmas it is downright frozen balls season. Some of the brothers park their bikes away and drive around in their cars, because we may be supernaturals but we can still get hurt and die. Well, unless you are Thorin— then it takes a little more to kill him off.

I am not ready to put my baby away.

I ride around for hours, not ready to head back to the club. The shit that has gone down between Skyla and me plays in my mind on repeat, and I can’t get her words out of my head.

Some fucker thinks he can take her on a date. I locked down my reaction to her saying that; I had to make sure that she did not see that I almost went into a fit of rage hearing that another man wants to touch her.

She is not yours.

I shake my head, clearing the shit but truthful thought away. Pushing harder on my bike, I zip through traffic with no destination in mind, until the sun goes down and the temperature drops.

The streetlights come on, and the cold adds to the mystic feel of Salem. It is at night that some supernaturals feel more at ease, so you will see more of them after dark.

Never underestimate a supernatural; we all have different souls. Some dark, some light but each and every one is as dangerous as the next. Even a white witch will turn nasty to protect theirs.

I roll my bike to a stop and swing my leg over, before stepping into the clubhouse. Music plays but not loud enough that you can’t hear anyone talk. The brothers are chilling, having a beer and some green, while some of the girls dance.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Winger calls, before tapping the club girl on his lap, telling her to leave.

“Where do you think he has been?” Shift snickers, so I flip the prick off.

Joining them, I call for a whiskey, needing the amber liquid to soothe the tension in my body.

7

Camo

The whiskey hits in just the right spot. I sigh, leaning back in the leather chair I rested in.

“You went to the gym?” Thorin asks, and I nod. “I thought you were done with her after the last time she pushed you too far.”

I shrug.

“He can’t stay away from her long,” Oryn speaks up.

I look at Winger, but Pres gives nothing away. His rule for managing his position of power is that he will not interfere with our lives unless he sees danger or death.

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