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Authors: Kaylee Song

Wed to the Bad Boy (29 page)

BOOK: Wed to the Bad Boy
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Layla

“Fuck.” I dropped my keys and sighed.  It was too damn much right now.  Work sucked.  I’d gotten pulled in to do secretarial duties, which included explaining to angry customers that we were short-staffed.  But I couldn’t tell them why.  It resulted in a lot of being yelled at and a lot of apologizing, two things I really fucking hated.

Hell, I barely knew why I was short-staffed, except that I knew it wasn’t good.  Revenge never was.

I must’ve looked like hell, because one of the mechanics walked over to me while I was locking up the office.

“You all right? Looks like you could use a drink.”

I smiled tightly at him, neither welcoming nor dismissing him.  “Nothing a nice, warm bath and a good book can’t fix.  I don’t have any wine, but that’d be nice too.”

He was a handsome kid, probably a year or two older than me, but not much more.   His muscular body and devilishly green eyes reminded me of Cullen..

“Well, how about that drink first and maybe your book later? On me.  Well, on the club.” He grinned.  “Wanna head into the club house, or head over to Kat’s?”

“You a prospect?”

“Yeah, though I heard I might be getting patched in this month.  Drew.” He held out his hand and I took it.  He had a strong grip and a nice smile.

A drink sounded good right about now.  “Just the clubhouse.”

Normally I would’ve gone straight home, especially without Cullen or my uncle around, but  ‘Drew’ seemed harmless.

Well, as harmless as any of these club guys were.

“All right.  Just one or two.  I need to get home in one piece, Drew.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Drew nodded.

After a drink I felt pretty relaxed, but after two I felt positively divine.  It’d been forever since I’d had anything that made me feel that good.  That numb.

“I’m sorry about your brother.  I mean, we all are.  He was a good guy.”

“Was he? Was he really?” I asked.

“Yeah, he was.  He was a hard-ass, don’t get me wrong.  He was tough on us, but he wasn’t cruel.   Made sense.  He wanted to make sure we could handle the life.  Respected that.  He was fair, too.”

I nodded.  I hated this life.  Everything it was.  Everything it stood for.  But it made me feel good to know that Sean was trying to put some integrity back into it.

That he was still my brother, through and through.

“Thank you.  That’s good to know.  I mean, I could ask anyone and they would blow sunshine up my ass, tell me he was this paragon.  But you’re honest.  I can take honest.”

My eyes lingered on his, but he wasn’t looking back into mine.  He was looking at my lips.

And then suddenly he was on them.  On me.  He grabbed me, this prospect who I thought was different.  The way he kissed me, the way he pulled me into him, it was anything but different.  It was the same old shit.  More about greed than desire, and I was just the newest object of.

Exactly what I should’ve expected.

I pushed away from him, but he held me tight.

When I didn’t let up, he scowled at me.  “What’s wrong? I thought this was what you wanted?”

I punched the side of his head as hard as I could, stunning him so that I could get away.  He didn’t seem deterred by that, and decided that pinning me down was a good idea.  It wasn’t.

His words made me cringe.  “You know you want it, baby.”

No.  Actually I didn’t.  Not from him.

Feeling sick, I did what a girl has to when the boys won’t listen.  I took a risk and kicked him right in the nuts.   He let go of me, staggering before getting his footing.  He was pissed and I was drunk enough that I had to hold onto the table.  I was scared shitless and angry, ready to fight but just sober enough to try running instead.  As soon as I stepped back, though, Cullen was there.

I didn’t know when he had come in.  , It was all so quick.  But I knew two things.

He was there now and he was pissed.

He went right at the prospect.  “You stupid motherfucker.  You’re gonna pay for that.” Before any of us knew what was happening he was punching the kid in the face, over and over. 

The prospect tried to duck and dodge but he was no match for Cullen.  Before I blinked, Cullen had reached over, grabbed the kid, and slammed him down on the ground with his entire bodyweight behind it.

“Wait, man, it isn’t—” It didn’t matter.  The kid’s protests fell on deaf ears.  

Drew tried desperately to fight back.  But he was outmatched in every sense of the word.  There was no way that he could get his feet under him, and if Cullen kept going, there was going to be nothing more than a lifeless body on that floor.  It was like he had become someone else entirely.  Like he really was Rage.

“Cullen, stop!” I screamed, but he just kept beating the kid, slamming his fist into his face over and over again.  His expression was eerily calm, like he did this  every day.  Beat people lifeless.

“Help!” I screamed for help, and finally a few men sprung to life.  They moved quickly, pulling him off Drew.  The kid was out cold.  There was blood everywhere.

“Dude, it isn’t worth it.  We don’t kill our own.” Crow grabbed Cullen’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes, bringing him back from that dark place.  The dark place that scared even me.

Drew was still breathing.  No one was dead.

I silently thanked them.

“Get off me.  I’m fine.  I’m good.” Cullen seemed to have regained his composure as he tugged down on his cut and looked around.  “I said I’m fine,” he barked before grabbing me.

“What the hell are you—” I didn’t have a chance to finish my sentence.  I was in the air before I could protest.

He lifted me up and put me over his shoulder like a caveman.  Just like he had that woman the other day.

“Put me down!” I shouted, outraged and a little scared.

“She is mine.  I claim her.  This is my ol’ lady.  No one else will touch her, do you understand?” He growled out each and every word as he said them, shouting across the bar.  I couldn’t see the looks on anyone else’s faces, but I knew the look on mine.  I was absolutely furious.  We weren’t
anything
, and I certainly wasn’t his “ol’ lady.”

I punched him everywhere I could reach, his back, his backside, all of him.  “Let me go!”

No one seemed to be interested in my struggles.  I could tell from the chuckles and the hoots that they were all enjoying this.  Cullen turned and started walking through the bar, back through the hallway to the nest of extra rooms that served as makeshift bedrooms for prospects, club members who had no place else to go and others who were too drunk to go home.

“Put me down! What the hell?”

As soon as he put me down, I decked him. 

I cocked my arm back and let it fly, right across the face.  I expected it to hurt him.  To shock him.

He just smiled at me, his eyes saying, “Is that all you have to give?”

It was.  I shook my hand out from the pain.  “Dammit.” Furious didn’t even begin to cover it.

“You really need to work on your hands before you go around punching people.  Toughen them up.  Then it won’t hurt so bad.”

“You misogynist prick.  I swear to God.” I reared up, ready to strike him again, but he dodged the blow this time and pulled me into him.

His scent was intoxicating, my anger stirring up the alcohol in my blood.  I was dizzy and common sense didn’t mean much right then.

Maybe that was why I thought it was a good idea to kiss him.  I shouldn’t have.  I should’ve known better.  I should’ve stopped myself.  But I couldn’t.  I wound myself around him as he kissed me back.  It was just like the old days.  Old lady, indeed.

I swore I could hear the beginnings of a chuckle in his throat.

That brought me back to reality.

I reared back and tried to glare at him.  Not an easy thing to do while drunk and so close.  “What the hell?” I asked, glaring at him.

“Clock me, then kiss me.  No wonder you’re still single, Lala.”

“You asshole!” I wiped my mouth, trying to hide the stupid grin that was twitching at the corners of my lips.  “I could’ve handled it.”

“No, you couldn’t have.” He was just as stubborn as me, and I knew it.

“You are so fucking backwards.  Picking me up like I’m a sack of potatoes? Is that what you think of me?”

“You think I ‘claimed’ you just for myself? I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh, yes you did.”

“No, Lala.  That’s the reality of the club.  Men would’ve kept coming after you, kept trying to do what Drew did.  They don’t care about a woman’s rights.”

“Sick fucks.”

“Not in that way.  We don’t hurt you all, but if you come in here, drink with us, flirt with us, that makes you game.  You consented to our little world.  Every girl knows that.  Every prospect knows that.  Here, you can’t stay untouchable forever without an ol’ man, and you know it.  What I did was make you unattainable for every man in that bar.  You’re mine.  They can’t have you.  But if you tell me no, I won’t have you, either.”

I stopped to listen to that.  Concentrated on looking him, really seeing him.

He meant it.  I hated hearing it.  This wasn’t the world I wanted to live in.  But he was right.  This was how it was. 

“I don’t do that rape shit,” he went on.  “It’s for losers who can’t get pussy on their own.”

I hadn’t thought he would.

Still, if he was telling the truth, he really did do me a favor.

He seemed to be uncomfortable.  It made him keep talking.  “What, you want a man like Thrash to claim you, instead? You waiting for him to come along and do it for me? Is that who you want? Just say the words, and I’ll release you and you can go running to him.”

“W-what?” I didn’t know what he was talking about.  “DeMarcus? No, he’s just—he’s a friend.” Yeah, he was hot, but we weren’t like that.  At least it hadn’t occurred to me.

I looked so confused, Cullen let up about it, but that didn’t stop him from talking.  “No one in this club is your friend.  Not really.  You haven’t earned anyone’s trust yet.”

“Not yours?” I asked, looking into his eyes.  He was still holding me, his arms tight around the small of my back.

“Especially not mine.”

“Why not?”

“You’re… You’re not committed.  You’ve got no loyalty to us.”

“Then why claim me?”

“I promised your brother I’d protect you.  Keep you safe.” He was breathing so heavily I could feel his chest moving up and down with each and every breath.  I could smell him.  It was distracting. 

“Even from you?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

“That’s the one thing I can’t promise.”

Before I knew it, I’d lost myself in his arms.  With each breath, I sucked in his scent.  His greedy eyes were on me as he swooped down, his breath hot on my skin as he captured my lips.

It was the kiss of a man—angry, passionate.  Devastated.

It felt like drowning.  All of those emotions pouring into me.  I gripped him hard, held on tight.  My nails dragged into his skin as I returned that kiss.  It was everything he said he didn’t want.  It was wrong.  But I wanted it.  And he didn’t push me away.

He was my protector.  The one I’d walked away from. 

My sin.

“Cullen, don’t,” I breathed, just barely.  This would ruin everything.  We were finally learning how to exist around one another.  I only wanted to punch him half a dozen times, instead of a full dozen.  There was something to that, something left that was still pure.  That I hadn’t messed up.  That I didn’t want to lose.

“You don’t get it, Cullen.  At all.”

“Don’t get what?” he said, his anger seething through him as he pushed me against the wall.  He was so mad I could feel that heat radiating off of him, the mercurial passion seeping from his body.

“I’m alone.  Utterly.  I have no one.  Sean was the last person I had in the world.” For all the good I did him.  I should have begged him to come with me.  Should have demanded it.

Should have stayed.

“You aren’t the only person that’s alone, sweetheart.  You think you’re special? Look around.  None of us have anything.  Hell, half of us didn’t have a fucking prayer without the damn club, Layla.” He was dangerous.  The look in his eyes told me I should have backed off.  I should’ve known better.

But I didn’t.  I needed to say it.

“Oh, bullshit, Cullen.  You know it’s all bullshit.  Nothing but a big game that only benefits whoever is in power at the moment.  Not you, not my uncle, but the Prez.  He wins.  He gets the big scores.  He makes the calls that suit him, gets to shove away all the money and then rides off into the sunset.”

For moment those brows just drew together, a storm brewing.  Finally, he asked, “How many pirate captains you ever heard of retiring?”

It wasn’t a bad question, but, “What?”

“That’s what we are.  Pirates.  Making our own way.  Taking what we need.  But how many have you ever heard of that get to sail away into the sunset?”

BOOK: Wed to the Bad Boy
9.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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