Page 14 of Clash
“So, where are you originally from?” Clash asked, waiting for me to answer. It was an innocent question, but I could tell he was trying to get information out of me.
He didn’t have to look far, because my son made damn sure he knew everything about us. “We lived in Louisiana. There’s lots of alligators there and swamps. I like swamps ‘cause they have frogs and bugs. Did you know that frogs will eat bugs? Mister… I forgot your name.”
Clash chuckled. “It’s Clash.”
“Mr. Clash. Did you know that frogs eat bugs, and alligators eat the frogs, and Mommy says sometimes we eat alligators. That makes us the top of the food chain.”
“That it does, Alex. You know a lot of neat things.”
Alex nodded, that smile lighting up the entire room. “I like to read, though I don’t know many words. Mommy has to read me stories, and I like to look at the pictures. I told Mommy that I wanted books for my birthday, but she said we don’t have money. I told her that’s okay, I don’t need money to have a good birthday. Just her.”
God, how did I get so lucky? There was no way this amazing kid could come from such horrible DNA.
“Well, your mommy and you have been very busy lately. Maybe with my help, we can get some books for your birthday?”
“You don’t have to do that,” I snapped, a little meaner than I probably should have. “What you’re doing—have done, is more than enough.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “If the kid wants books for his birthday, I’ll give him some books.”
I cried a little, refusing to let my withered tears take shape, as raw emotions encompassed every part of me. This man was being too nice… nicer than a man like him should be.
“What do you get out of all this?” I questioned, suddenly feeling very concerned.
His brow scrunched in confusion, and he set down his fork, staring at me with gruff eyes. “Nothing.”
I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t. Not when I’d been taught to never trust a man, especially one like him.
“That’s bullshit!” I shouted, making Alex’s eyes widen. “You want something from us—from me. What’s your angle, huh? Do you plan on buttering me and my son up with presents and food, putting us in a place of contentment, and then when we’re not looking sell us to the highest bidder?”
He laughed, and I hated the way it made me feel. I was attracted to it, just as much as I was attracted to him. “You’ve got a few screws loose, lady. I’m just being a nice guy. Why can’t you accept that?”
Slamming my fork on the table, I jumped to my feet, eyes narrowing on the man who was just trying to help us. “Accept it? You’re a disgusting biker. I know what people like you are like. You’re vulgar, lewd, and prey on the weak. Well, I’m not falling for it. I know you’re a piece of shit, I can tell just by looking at you and that stupid motorcycle jacket of yours.”
“It’s called a cut.”
“I don’t give a fuck what it’s called. It labels you. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. It shows me just who you are without me even getting to know you. The sad part is, you almost had me fooled, Clash, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re only pretending to be nice, the real monster is lurking within, waiting to strike.”
His fists clenched by his side, an action I knew all too well. I’d gone too far, now I was going to get my punishment…
“I’m gonna go,” he said quietly, his rage simmering beneath the surface. “Thank you for breakfast.”
Before I could protest, he was out of his chair, stomping toward the door.
Fucked up wasn’t even a term to describe me… I was a delusional mess, one that probably just fucked up a really good situation for no reason other than being utterly, emotionally, and terminally afraid.
6
This is what I get for being nice.
Gina looked at me with the animosity and hate everyone else does. There were a few moments here and there, where I could’ve sworn she was feeling the same attraction I was, but I was wrong—dead wrong.
She looked at me like I looked at her behind that dumpster… like garbage… like someone unfit to lick her thousand-dollar shoes.
The worst part of it all, was the fact I couldn’t really blame her. The cut did define me—it stood for a club that was feared by most in town, making women and children alike run for the hills. I thought she was different, but other than Alex, Gina compared me to the Devil, one that I’m finding out she wore the ring of. An expensive ring at that.
Why hasn’t the silly woman pawned that shit?
She could fetch a pretty penny for a ring that expensive.
