Page 36 of Knot My MC
They’re not my friends.
They’re not my pack.
They’re the boys my father warned me about. The ones who wanted to take what wasn’t theirs and ruin me. Dad wasn’t talking about them specifically when he warned me about what some alphas are like, but this is what he was aiming to protect me from. I ignored his advice the first time. I won’t do it again.
Easing away from Jag, I place a respectable distance between us. He glances back as if to askwhat just happened?I won’t press against him like that again. No matter how fast he turns or how hard he shifts, I keep an easy hold on his stomach but I don’t cling to him.
The momentary slip can’t happen again.
* * *
The Hell Hounds’ clubhouse is a lot bigger and a lot nicer than the Wrecker’s. Consider an old, off brand car compared to a reliable Toyota. I’ve never been on Hound’s property, that was one line I never crossed, and a little thrill of excitement skates down my spine. Dad is probably turning in his grave, but deep down, I know he wouldn’t want me to end up with Axel.
Speaking of, he never made his grand appearance. I’m happy he didn’t show up to bid on me, but does that mean something worse is waiting for me? Axel isn’t one to let things go. He wanted me. I release my hold on Jag while he parks. His knuckles are red and bloodied from the beating he gave those alphas who bid on me. I’d be lying if I said a little part of me didn’t delight in seeing them laid out in such a brutally efficient way.
Jag hasn’t changed in that respect. Knox is the starter: the one who’ll do what needs to be done. Jag’s the escalator: the alpha who will take a simple fist fight and turn it into a battle for death. Crow is the finisher: the guy you can depend on to end a fight. Together they’re perfect. Together they’re dangerous. Together they should be mine.
I pinch my eyes shut. Stupid, foolish omega.
They’re not the same kids from my memories.
After they stopped talking to me, I carefully avoided any discussions of the Hounds. Anytime they were brought up within Wrecker, I found an excuse to leave. Apparently, a lot has changed. According to their vests, Knox is the Prez. Jag and Crow are holding the next highest ranking positions. They’re young—at only twenty-one—but a lot of Hounds have been killed during turf disputes.
Now I wish I would have stuck around for those discussions. Did they kill the old Prez to take control?
Somehow I doubt it.
They never were much like Axel. Aside from the vests and the motorcycles that is. Axel is a level of despicable I haven’t seen many alphas reach. My guys, I mean these assholes, are nothing like that.
You don’t know them anymore, a whisper of a thought trickles through my mind.
That’s true. I don’t know them. A familiar and annoying ache fills me. A stupid longing to belong to what I once thought was mine once more.
I hadn’t imagined making my way back to them via the auctions. That’s an entirely different level of fucked up. Not only are they alphas and I’m an omega, now they fucking own me. All because Axel thought he’d try to force me into my heat and make me his.Go into heat.My chest rumbles at the unwelcome intrusion of Axel’s voice in my head and cinnamon explodes around us.
Jag removes his helmet and glances over his shoulder. “If you’re going to stab me, at least let me take the vest off.”
His words shock me and pull my thoughts from what I’d experienced with Axel. I take off the helmet and clutch it in one arm, giving Jag a blank stare. The spice of my anger recedes. Control. I need to stay in control.
“When I stab you, there won’t be so many witnesses.”
“I look forward to it,” he says softly, running his hand up and down my thigh for a quick second. “Are you going to sit on the bike all day or are you going to grow some balls and hop off?”
Not quite knowing how to respond to his touch, I jump off and throw the helmet at him. He catches it with a laugh and sets it aside. The ride cooled me off, but my skin warms at their presence and fresh sweat pebbles on my lower back. Knox and Crow walk over. There’s a limp in Crow’s gait. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. I purse my lips to keep from asking what happened. A lothashappened since the last time we saw each other. The three of us fall into a silent standoff. None of us move. None of us speak. We simply appraise each other, me trying to figure out their motives and them… Well, I don’t know what they’re trying to figure out.
We used to be able to finish each other’s sentences.
Knox steps forward, and I tense, expecting the first demand to slip from his lips, but he grabs my hand instead, turning it over and inspecting the cut.
“What happened?”
“Cut myself on a fence trying to escape from Axel.” I hold his steady stare. “I didn’t make it.”
His features darken, and I yank my hand back, not wanting him to be angry on my behalf. I had my mind made up about these alphas, but within only a few hours, they’re turning my world upside down.
“Are we going to stand here all day or are you going to show me around?” I finally ask, glancing away and taking in the property.
Much like Wrecker’s land, Hell Hounds’ is surrounded by a fence, only theirs is iron compared to the flimsy chain-link. The club house sits in the middle of the property with bright lights bathing the lot and chasing away the encroaching dark of the late evening. A small automotive shop is off to the right side, and two other buildings, both smaller than the clubhouse, sit off to the left. There are picnic tables under a tin roofed patio and a few grills for when the club has a celebration. A row of bikes extends from where we stand. Fourteen Harleys, and that’s just the members that are onsite.
