Page 20 of All's Fair in Love & Chaos
“They’re my man’s family.Myfamily. And just because I’m a kindergarten teacher doesn’t mean I can’t be here,” Kinsey snaps. “Are you really in a position to be judgmental about things you know nothing about?”
“Nice. Classy. Real awesome place you’re running here, Camden.”
“Get in the goddamn shower, Saige, while you have an opportunity to take one. They leave this afternoon. Kinsey will show you a kindness you won’t get from the patchbunnies. And after she leaves, your choices are me or them.”
I had briefly seen women in the main part of the house when Camden carried me inside, but I hadn’t heard any female voices carrying. I’ve heard all about patch bunnies, or sweetbutts, the women of the clubhouse that live and breathe chasing the men who wear the cuts, fucking them, cleaning up after them. I’m not typically judgmental, but I’d love to know what kind of women fuck die-hard criminals for a living.
“Fine, Camden. You win this round. Do you two plan on staying for a show, or can I shower without any dicks in the room?”
“Saige . . . fucking watch it,” he says through clenched teeth like I’ve just plucked his last nerve. “We’re leaving. Rogue will be right outside the door.”
Camden moves to pull the door open, but Rogue doesn’t immediately follow, instead taking two large steps in my direction. “I don’t know what happened to you to get you to this point, but it’s not too late to turn things around. We can help you. Talk or don’t. The choice is yours, but don’t try to hurt a hair on my woman’s head. Chaos warned you about me, but it’s her you should be worried about.” His words are said as statements rather than an attempt at comfort or in warning, which I appreciate. I don’t need comforting from any of them, and I sure as shit don’t need to be threatened. The threat is a palpable, living, breathing thing around me; I don’t need the reminder.
Rogue leans down in front of her, bending his knees slightly, threading his fingers into Kinsey’s hair, and dropping a kiss to the center of her forehead. She smiles up at him like he hungthe fucking moon, love radiating between them. “I’ll be right out here, little fighter. I love you.”
“I love you. Go. We’re fine.”
Rogue leaves with one last longing look at his woman, and envy washes over me. I’ve never seen anything like that . . . since my parents. The way they would float around the kitchen, dancing together, my dad dipping my mom and kissing her throat, her laughs echoing through the house. It used to make me smile—and gag—and now I would do anything to see it one more time.
“Little fighter?” I ask, repeating back the nickname Rogue called her.
“I’ve been boxing with my four older brothers since I was little. Plus, some shit happened last year, and I put up one hell of a fight.”
“But you’re still with him?”
“What? No. Reidsavedme. They all did. He’d never hurt me. We’re a family here.”
The look on her face is pure shock, as if it’s completely out of the realm of possibility that I could have assumed he was the one things went down with. It goes against everything I know about motorcycle clubs. But nothing since I’ve been here has been what I imagined. Not that it matters. I know they were responsible for taking my family from me, and I’m going to make sure they pay for it.
Eventually.
I stand up, stretching my legs and back before walking to the small en suite bathroom Camden let me use last night. Kinseyfollows, but she gives me some space. I don’t even bother shutting the door, knowing it’s just going to cause an issue, and this girl doesn’t deserve my hate. Even if she’s guilty by proxy.
“So, what happened?” I ask, only out of pure curiosity, maybe selfishly to get more information on the club I could use to my advantage.
“With me last year? Jesus. First off, I had no idea Reid was in a club; that came as a shock. But long story short? He had been living in my town for the last ten years or so, working as a tattoo artist. I wanted to move out of my parents’ house, moved above his tattoo shop, and was kidnapped by a rival MC. I put up a fight, but they still took me. It was pretty fucking bad. But Reid and the Heathens . . . Chaos . . . they saved me. Knowing what would have happened to me if they hadn’t still haunts me. It still feels fresh. I’d probably be dead, to be honest.”
Whatever living piece of my heart that still beats in my chest aches for her, and I have the strongest urge to wrap her in a hug. But I’m struggling to see the difference between what happened to Kinsey and what’s happening to me right now.
“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve got four older brothers—technically five—and three sisters-in-law, and I can read people. This isn’t the same. The men who took me wanted to take turns raping me, to cut me apart piece by piece just for the pleasure of knowing they were hurting Reid and the club. That’s not what’s happening here.”
“How do you know I haven’t been threatened, Kinsey? You’re making a lot of assumptions while telling me not to do the same.”
“Because they’re my family and I know them. They wouldn’t hurt you. Whatever image you have in your head of what a motorcycle club is like . . . you’re wrong when it comes to Hell’s Heathens. They aren’t like the others. They fight to protect people who can’t protect themselves, they seek out justice for those who can’t defend themselves, they help women and children flee abusive relationships, they purge the earth of evil, not contribute to it. You know what? I’m done with this conversation. Think whatever you want. But I won’t stand here while you let your rage hide what’s right in front of you. You haven’t been hurt, and I know you haven’t been threatened. In fact, I’d bet everything on the fact that Chaos has been reassuring you that you’re safe here. Get in the damn shower or I swear, I’ll put you in there myself.”
Yeah. I definitely like this one. I get why the two of them work now. She’s strong, and not because she wants to be; she’s strong because she’s had to be. I get it. Like recognizes like. Even if all the shit she just spewed fucked with my head. I’ve been locked inside this room for barely twenty-four hours, and I’m confused as hell.
Chapter Seven
CAMDEN
“Is she any closer to talking? Opening up to you?” Sin asks as he pets the bunny curled up in his lap. We’re sitting at a table in the bar area while we give Saige and Kinsey privacy. Rogue, not wanting to be far from Kinsey, stayed outside my bedroom door, just in case. I felt better about the decision, too.
“Not by much. Something happened to her; she hates us, hates clubs. I’ve never seen so much anger balled up in one person before,” I answer, tapping my fingers against the cool wood of the table, unease rolling through me in waves.
“Have you met yourself, Chaos?”
“I’m not that bad.”
