I take a corner, leaning my Monster into it, and Sophia’s thighs tense ever so slightly. My dick is suddenly harder than reinforced concrete. Fuck Maria Rosa. Fuck Agent Lowell. Fuck Hector Ramirez and his evil piece of shit right hand man. All I care about right now is what’s gonna happen when I get Sophia through the door and into my damn bed. I doubt very much we’ll make it to the bed in all honesty. At this rate, as soon as we pull up outside the compound I’m probably going to be bending her over my motorcycle and fucking the living daylights out of her just to warm her up. She has no idea what she’s getting herself into. No clue whatsoever.
Up ahead, the compound is lit up against the darkness like a beacon. We pass the huge tree where Carnie found Bron’s body as we head toward home, and I can feel Soph judder against me. No matter how much time passes, that tree is always going to have evil connotations for her. For me, too. I’m not normally one for wantonly destroying living things, but I make a mental note to come out here tomorrow morning to take a chainsaw to the damn thing. I’ll use a pickaxe to dig the stump out, and then I’ll fill in the hole so it looks the same as the rest of this desolate landscape. Shame, really.
There are plenty of people milling about when we pull through the compound gates. I park my motorcycle up alongside the long line of machines behind the barn. Cade’s out the front of the clubhouse smoking a cigarette. He sees us, gives me a curt nod of his head, but he doesn’t come over. He’ll have things to tell me—if anyone can make Maria Rosa part with information, it’s Cade—but he must see the small shake of the head I give him. He’ll wait for me to come find him later. After my business with Sophia is at an end.
The girl beside me has her shoulders drawn back, chin tilted proudly. She’s set her jaw, and looks extremely defiant as I gesture for her to lead the way up to the cabin. She sets off without batting an eyelid.
“That woman hates me,” she says.
“What woman?” I don’t really need to ask, though. There’s only one possible person she could be referring to. Shay needs to calm the fuck down, or she’s gonna get called into my office and we’ll be having words. Really unpleasant ones. Sophia jerks her head to the right, where Shay is leaning against one of the storage units, talking to Dex, one of the Widow Makers’ longest standing members. She’s glaring at Sophia, sending her the foulest look imaginable. She seems completely oblivious to the fact that I’m even here. When she does notice me I shoot daggers at her and she looks the other way, eyes to the ground. When I was a kid, Ryan taught me how to treat a woman. Southern manners are hard to shake off, regardless of where you end up living and regardless of how other people may treat the fairer sex. Shay’s something else, though. She’s enough to make me forget my manners entirely.
“You guys used to sleep together, right?” Sophia asks.
She’s far too astute for her own good. I can see the awkward look on her face out of the corner of my eye; I know telling her the truth is only going to make her feel weird, but in the same vein I’m not going to fucking lie to her. I never will. “Yeah. Couple of times, back when she first showed up here. I put a stop to it very quickly.”
“Why? I mean, she’s a beautiful woman. You didn’t think so?”
I laugh, placing my hand non-too-subtly on Sophia’s ass as we climb the hill toward the cabin. “Sugar, a girl can be just about the most stunning thing to ever walk the surface of this planet, but if she’s ugly on the inside then it’s only a matter of time before she’s ugly on the outside, too.”
“So she’s a bad person?”
I take a beat to think about this. “No, not bad. Just damaged. Seriously, seriously damaged. This club is a family, though. You don’t kick out the problem child just because they have problems, right? You try and help them.”
“And if they just don’t want helping?”
“Then you lock them in their rooms until they start behaving themselves.” I am really not beyond considering this with Shay if she continues to act like a spoiled little bitch. “The thing about Shay is she hates to lose,” I say.
“And she thinks I’ve won?” Sophia sounds incredibly amused by this idea. I slap her on the ass. Hard. She stifles a cry, which has my cock throbbing in my pants. She can try and stifle her cries all she wants, but before the night is out I swear she won’t be able to help herself anymore. Her throat will be sore from all her screaming, in the very best way.
As soon as we’re through the door of the cabin, I have her in my arms, feet off the floor, and I’m charging across the other side of the room toward the bed. I must take her by surprise, because Sophia goes rigid, stiff as a board.
“Shit,” she hisses.
I throw her down on the mattress so hard she bounces. There’s a look of poorly disguised fear in her eyes as she blinks up at me, her breasts straining against the thin material of her t-shirt as she breathes in and out in quick time. “Are you afraid of me, Sophia?” I growl.