Page 84 of Burning Ember
Ignoring my racing heart, I pull away and huff, “You’re right. It won’t.” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. “Because I’m not staying. I’m leaving later today. I’m just sticking around to see the doctor.”
Well, I guess I’ve made my decision.
I don’t know what he thinks of my little declaration, because I can’t see his face. And he’s silent. But a minute later, he grabs my elbow. “What about our deal?”
Stunned, I finally look up at him in the mirror. His head is less than an inch away from mine, and his eyes are so lit up they’re molten.
“You should be happy. This is what you wanted, right? Me gone,” I say sharply. “Well congratulations. You’re going to get your wish.”
He glares back at me, or at least multiple broken pieces of him do.
A stool screeches across the floor. Mav’s head snaps toward the bar. He barks out, “Sit the fuck down, and stop eyeballin’ me. We’re just workin’ shit out.”
He turns back and burns me up with the way he’s looking at me. I see lust and loathing there too. Does he see the same in my eyes?
“Yeah? And where the fuck you gonna stay?”
“I’ll find somewhere. And you can find someone else for Edge. Someone better. Someone not so plain. You were right, I don’t belong here.”
“Fuck . . . I didn’t . . .” He sucks in a deep breath. “We had a deal. You stick around until the party, and I’ll make sure you’re set. You need the money and I . . .” He’s fingers tighten on my arm. “Three more days. That’s it. You stay, and I swear I won’t give you any more shit. I won’t lay a hand on you. No one will.”
I glance down to the death grip he has on my arm. I quip, “Yeah, call me crazy, but I don’t believe you.”
He lets go of me and rubs a hand slowly down his face. Halfway down he pauses. His hand falls. “Two thousand dollars.”
My eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“You stay. You follow through with the deal. I’ll give you two thousand dollars.”
Two thousand dollars . . .
I mentally calculate how far that will get me. That’s food, shelter, clothing, and time to look for a decent job. For a second, I let the moral guilt hit me. Sleeping with a man for money makes me a whore. That’s what Mav’s asking me to do. Be his whore. But I’m a desperate girl who needs options. A desperate girl who doesn’t have the luxury of turning down an offer like this.
I’ve tried to live up to society’s laws and standards for years. But my life doesn’t fit in that mold anymore. If I do this, the guilt will be mine and mine alone. For enough money to start a new life, I think I can bear it.
Purely out of spite, I bite out, “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s fighting a smile. “Yeah. You do that. I need to get to work, but we’ll talk later.”
With that said, he stalks off.
I watch him cross the room in the shattered mirror. He stops once to whisper heatedly to Taz and then he’s gone, out the front door. Probably to go do whatever seedy job it is he does for the club. Maybe run a sex slavery ring or the club’s brothel. Something I know motorcycle clubs are famous for.
Later, after most of the guys have left for work, my curiosity gets the best of me, and I ask Griz, “Why is he dressed like that? He’s a pimp, right? Please tell me he’s a pimp.” I want to hate him so I’m hoping Griz will give me something.
Griz lets out a loud barking laugh that quickly turns into a cough. I get worried and pat his back for a second until he waves me off. When he finally recovers and can breathe normally again, he says with humor in his tone, “Nah. He’s doesn’t work for the club. The boy went to college and he’s a savvy businessman now. He designs houses mainly. But commercial buildings too. He owns Parson’s and Gunn Construction.”
I remember Mav being bent over drawing something when I first met him, when Dozer and I walked into his office that day.
“Our man’s the money and the design of the biz. His partner handles the sales and build work.”
He laughs when I scowl at him for his word choice.Our man.I try to wrap my head around this new information. Dammit. I wanted it to be something that didn’t appeal to me. But no. Instead, I find out he’s smart, educated, and talented.
What in the hell is he doing here? Why is he a member of a club? Why would he choose this kind of life if he has so many other options?
Stop it . . .
Done. Remember. He’s a safety hazard.
