Page 32 of All's Fair in Love & Chaos
“Have we heard from Wes yet? We can’t just operate on the defensive; we need to be able to plan an offense and get the upper hand. This guy cannot be allowed to exist. I won’t take the chance,” I say as I walk into church, finding my men already sitting around the table, waiting for my arrival.
The room smells like old leather, engine oil, and sweat, a familiar scent that is grounding, comforting. I hold onto it during times like these when threats are looming and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to prevent them from coming.
“Nothing yet, but I still can’t shake this feeling that something big is on the horizon, something we won’t be able to prevent. Especially now with the Widowmakers coming for everyone,” Wrath adds.
Fuck. Two threats are now closing in, and not a damn lead. I need Wes to come through for us, and quickly. Ilean forward, my elbows resting on the scarred wood, my eyes scanning the room. “You know how it goes. We don’t run,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “We don’t fold, we don’t turn on each other. Whatever is coming, we face it together.”
Malice shifts in his chair, the tension in his jaw twitching like a ticking time bomb. “You think the Widowmakers are going to come for Amberwood?” he asks, his voice low, like saying it out loud might summon them right to our doorstep.
Wrath shakes his head, his arms crossed over his cut. “Or the Willow Killer.” I don’t say it, but that’s the one that keeps me up at night, fighting a ghost with no face, a threat I can’t see and know nothing about. But I have to hold my shit together or everything else will crumble.
“Doesn’t matter who it is,” I snap. “We lock it down. No one rides alone, no deals, no clubs, no bakeries,” I say the last word and shoot a glare at Malice. “No loose talk outside these walls. Until we hear from Wes, or get answers on our own, we operate like we’re ready for a war.” Everyone nods their heads in agreement, and I know they’re with me. Loyalty isn’t something I have to ask for or demand; it’s already written in blood and ink across our skin.
And then Sin speaks, and I’m back to being pissed off. “That means no pillow talk then, right, Prez?” I know I’ve let him get away with talking with a loose tongue in the past, but that shit can’t happen anymore, not when we have to stand together. Shit just started to get easy again after last year.
“Is that your way of questioning me?” My eyes narrow at my VP, wondering what the fuck he’s thinking.
“I’m just making sure. I don’t trust her, something just feels offabout all of it, and it’s been days, with no reason for why the fuck she wanted you in the first place.”
His words hit their mark. I look around the table at the men who have bled beside me, buried brothers beside me, and if it comes to it, they’ll gladly die beside me, too. They’re the reason I can’t afford to have any distractions, and Saige is the biggest one yet.
“I hear you. I’ll get to the bottom of it right now. We’ve survived worse, but we’ve got each other, that’s our weapon, that’s our shield. And if someone wants to test that? Then they better be ready to learn what it means to take on a Heathen.”
I returnto my bedroom with a stronger resolve. I have to put my club first. It doesn’t matter how insane I feel for this woman, Sin was right. It’s been days, and I’m no closer to answers as to who the hell she is and what she wants with me. If it had been any other person, I would have tortured him slowly until he squealed like a pig at the slaughter. Instead, I’ve been comforting her and letting her fuck me.
I pause as my hand grasps the cool metal of the doorknob, listening for any movement or words coming from behind the wood, but I’m met with silence. The fight has started to dim behind her eyes as she warms up to me, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Am I breaking her? Wearing her down?
I push open the door, finding her sitting upright against the headboard, her knees pulled to her chest, her head relaxed against the frame behind her. Tangled black hair cascades down one side, her bangs hanging over her forehead.
“Did you talk to your friend?”
“None of your business. Let me go, Camden. You can’t keep me locked up here forever,” she snaps, and my previous concerns go right out the window.
“I told you, you can go when I know what you want with me. You’re not making shit easy on me, Saige.”
“Oh, fuck you!”
“Baby, you were the best fuck of my life. Just say the word, and I’ll give you a repeat. We both know how much you like riding my dick.”
“At least one of us enjoyed it. It’ll never happen again.” She says the words despite having to clench her thighs, and I can tell by the look on her face she’s thinking about it right now. I chuckle darkly, walking into her space, running my fingers over her hair to gently push the strands out of her eyes. She jerks away from me, the cold metal of the cuff digging further into her wrist.
“Your words are saying one thing, but your pussy said another. You think I wouldn’t know if you were faking it? You couldn’t fake a thing if I threatened to put a bullet in your skull. You and I both know how you gushed your sweet cream all over my cock when you came, and you pulled me right over the edge with you when you did. Don’t start lying to me now, vixen.”
“I hate you! Do you even know what you did? Or were they that inconsequential to you and your pack of evil heathens that you don’t even know?” she screams, her face red with anger.
“Fucking tell me, then, woman! I can’t fix what I don’t fuckingknow I did!” I yell back.
“You killed my family, you prick!”
Her words hit me like a tsunami breaking the shore. I stumble backward like I’ve taken a physical blow, her words hitting deeper than any knife or bullet ever could.
“I what?” I whisper, my knees barely able to keep me from collapsing at her feet.
“You fucking heard me. Don’t play stupid, Camden.”
“Who are your parents?”
“Vincent and Maria Russo.”
