Styx moved beside me and an arm circled my shoulders, which made me jump. I glanced up at Styx’s rugged face: those hazel eyes, big soft lips, rough cheeks marked by a few small scars. His tongue licked at the silver ring through his bottom lip and a large set of dimples set on his cheeks. Those dark, soft delves made him seem less… severe, more human.
As I once more fixed my eyes on this big, silent man, so different from the boy I met, I crumbled. I gave in. This was everything I had been taught was wrong, but I could not help but cherish his touch. His strong arms encased me, warming me, comforting me, letting me feel safe. I held on tightly to his leather vest—he smelled of leather, soap, and smoke, and something else, something really… good. I had never ever been held like this before, never soothed. The only type of affection I had ever received was on those days. Even then, touching like this was strictly prohibited.
Styx guided my head to the crook of his neck and only then did I set my sobs free.
I cried for a long time before I gave in to exhaustion and drifted off to sleep, still unsure if I was being lured into a den of evil. But I felt completely and utterly safe in the strong arms of the only boy I had ever kissed…
Chapter Seven
Styx
I swear that fuckin’ twitching nose is gonna destroy me.
She’d fallen asleep in my arms, her soft breath fanning my neck. For the first time in my life, I got a goose bump.
A goddamn fuckin’ goose bump.
Pulling in the tiny bitch tighter, I exhaled, my eyes shut tight in agony. I was so fuckin’ hard, painfully hard. She was so damn beautiful I couldn’t believe she was actually real. I’d always wondered what she’d look like older—filled out, hair down, eyes bright—but the reality was mind-blowing. Having her in my arms was the best thing I’d ever felt, and when that nose of hers twitched like Samantha the fuckin’ witch, blood pumped into my cock and thoughts of being inside her drove me friggin’ insane. Fuck. I didn’t even know her name.
Rolling my head back against the wall, I groaned. Pull yourself together, Styx. You’re the Prez of a fuckin’ gun-trading MC and you’re acting like a damn bitch pussy.
The bitch moaned in her sleep and nuzzled closer to my chest, her small hand moving to grip my cut, her leg bending slightly to lie over mine. I couldn’t deal with it. If she moved one more inch, I was gonna lose my restraint and fuck her into the mattress.
Scooping her too-thin frame in my arms, I pulled back the black sheets and settled her underneath, smoothing her hair from her face, watching as her full lips tilted into a peaceful smile.
Fuck me, she was beyond beautiful. Even at eleven, I thought that shit true, but now she was way more than a goddamned ten.
Leaving my room, turning the lock, I headed to the lounge and over to the bar. Only a few brothers were left, most gone home or to their bedrooms with their bitches for the night. Lois’d clearly split too. Good. Didn’t want no questions flying my way. Had no answers to give her anyhow.
Walking behind the bar, I poured myself a large bourbon, Ky and Rider sitting around a table, watching my every move. Pit ran across the room and jumped behind the bar. “Fuck, Prez, I’ll get that.” I waved him away with my hand, but the brother took his place as bartender, one of his prospect duties.
I took a seat beside Rider and Ky, meeting their eyes.
“Prez,” Ky greeted.
Frowning at the fuckers, I saw them shift in their seats—they’d been talking.
Out with it, I signed.
Ky rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Styx, man. What the fuck’s up with the bitch?”
Edging forward, I met his gaze head on, my eyes twitching in annoyance.
“I’m not ripping on her. What I mean is that she’s clueless, na?ve. She didn’t even know what a fuckin’ biker was or even a motherfuckin’ bike! She don’t speak, looked at the brothers like she was staring at the face of evil. Turns up outta nowhere, bleeding out. We don’t know where she’s from or if someone wants her back. She could be trouble. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re over-occupied with that shit right now. Don’t need no more.”
Ky shook his head at me, like he didn’t even recognize the man next to him. The man who’d been his best friend for fuckin’ years. “Feds are watching our ass twenty-four-seven. We walk out with a timid, bruised bitch… they’ll be on us and no fucker will believe the truth ’bout her. I mean, fuck! We got the Chechen run tomorrow. We’re gonna be on the road weeks reclaiming our turf. Don’t need this now.”
Downing my bourbon in one, I savored the smooth, peaty taste. I let the alcohol numb my throat. Slowly opening my eyes, I dropped my glass to the table and buried my hands in my hair. It’d been one… long… fuckin’… day.
“Where’s she now?” Rider asked as he tightened his black Hangmen bandana ’round his head. “Do you need me to check on her?”
Shaking my head, I inhaled and signed out, Sleeping.
Rider nodded. I swear the fucker looked disappointed. Then he skittered his eyes around the room before they landed back on me. He looked like a man who wanted to say something.
“Look, Styx. When I was younger and my folks died, I was left alone. Wandered for years, scared shitless at first, then hardened up pretty damn quick. Life on the road, y’know? This club was my second chance.”
“What you sayin’, brother?” Ky asked as he placed a hand on Rider’s shoulder.
“Just that she may be scared shitless now, but she might come ’round at some point. I was brought up in a strict religious household. Never told anyone here that before. Never felt the need. That’s not my life anymore, fuckin’ far from it. Anyhow, when my folks died, I had to relearn life all over again. Lost my faith, my church, my support network. Lost my way for a while. I found my family here again with the Hangmen.”