Captivate Me (7 page)

“You owe me five hundred dollars,” Bella says from across the table in the basement of the clubhouse.

“What the fuck?” I growl.

I can’t believe this woman roped me into playing fucking Monopoly. I played a few times as a kid, but fuck, I had to do a quick read of the damn rules. Rules, I fucking hate rules, but Bella is a damn stickler for them.

“You landed on my Park Place with two houses. Pay up!” she says with a laugh that pulls you in.

Even if it is a fucking damn game, I don’t like giving up my money. Still, I count out the cash and hand it over to her.

She snatches the fake money with an award-winning smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” I tell her jokingly.

“You love me,” she retorts.

I shake my head, loving the easy comradery between Bella and me.

“I’m down to fifty bucks, Bella. It’s safe to say you won.” I look at all of the cash she has piled up, along with all of her property. I really don’t give a shit about the game, so I fully admit that I didn’t put much effort into it.

“You can sell your properties.”

I look down at my lonely five cards then up at her with a quirk of my brow. “Even if I sell, I’m out.”

I’ve been trying to keep Bella company while Buzz is doing club business. He didn’t ask me to or anything like that; I just thought she would like a change of scenery from being with the ol’ ladies.

“Fine,” she huffs, but I can tell she doesn’t mean it. “Let’s watch a movie,” she suggests as she begins to put the pieces of the game away.

“Sure.” I have nothing pressing that needs to be done, and with Buzz and Tug here, no one is at our apartment. Might as well hang out. “What?”

She finishes putting the last pieces away. “
Ocean’s Eleven
,” she answers, which makes me pretty happy. That is so much better than a fucking chick flick.

She puts the board away, and then we move over to the couch. She lies on one end, resting her head on the arm, and I sit on the other with her feet in my lap. She cues up the movie, and it begins.

A while into it, she shifts, looking down the couch at me. “Can I ask you something?”

I feel the urge to smirk but don’t. “Sure.”

“Why don’t you kiss me or touch me?”

I’m not going to lie and say I’m taken off guard by her question because I’m not. I’ve been sexual with Bella once, and my brother was there. He has to be.

“Because you’re my brother’s girl,” I answer.

Her brows scrunch together like she’s thinking really hard. “But we’ve been together.”

“Once … with Buzz there.” If I’ve learned anything over the past few days about this woman, it’s that she’s stubborn as hell. “Because I don’t fuck women by myself.”

That’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone that little tidbit. She’s so damn easy to talk to, and granted, I don’t talk all that much, but she takes the edge off.

She sits up on the couch. “What do you mean?”

I can’t give her more. That bit of information was a huge step for me. She doesn’t know it, but my past is too fucked up to tarnish her head with.

I squeeze her bare leg gently. “Exactly what I said. I don’t have sex with a woman unless my brother is there.”

“But why?” she challenges.

“Babe, that’s as much as you get.” I give her a stern look. “Either we sit here and watch the movie, or I’m out.”

She must see it in my eyes, because she lies back down, puts her feet back on me, and we watch while the
Ocean’s Eleven
team takes out a casino.

I move to Pops’ door and knock twice.

“In,” he calls, and I step through the door, seeing Pops’ hair is disheveled every which way like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times, no doubt feeling all this shit on his shoulders. “Whatcha need?” he asks, plopping down in his desk chair.

“Talked to Buzz. He thinks we should do a sweep of the property.”

Pops sits up at this and puts his elbows on the desk, looking at me intently while I explain what Buzz said earlier. Then he wipes his hands over his face with a growl.

“Do it. Check fucking everything.”

I nod. He’s got too much shit going on in his head, and no way am I adding to it. I leave and get to work.

The door clicks behind Breaker, and the lead weight that is on my shoulders pushes me down on the spot. Who would have thought all this shit would come back to bite me in the ass?

Work I should have done over thirty years ago has come back to haunt me, haunt my brothers, my children, my grandchildren, my wife. That motherfucker.

We discussed this shit several times, and I thought it was over and done with. I should have known better. I should have known he wouldn’t let me taking Charlotte go. And we integrated him into our lives. We’ve done runs for him, and he’s paid us without question. He pretty much snowballed me, and I’m fucking pissed I let it happen. Tink, motherfucking Tink. I hate that name. Fucking hate it.

Growing up, I knew when I turned eighteen I would be a member of the Ravage MC. It’s in my blood, and I fucking love it.

The pussy is plentiful, and I have my brother’s backs. It isn’t easy, that’s for damn sure. Being the president’s son puts a fucking target on my back, and not a good one. I proved I was worthy of the rag I wear today. I did all the shit jobs without complaint. Hell, I did anything I was told without thought. I’ve been wearing this leather for four years now, and the only way the rag comes off is if it’s pried off my cold, dead body.

I follow behind the brothers as we pull into the large motorcycle rally. “
Welcome Bikers,
” it says on the huge banner
.
Striker, my father and president, likes to bring us to a couple of these a year. One, it’s good business to meet new people and expand our income. And two, we can do runs, and it looks perfectly normal.

We greet the men we see as we move through the crowds.

“Well, lookie here,” a deep voice comes from the side of us, and we turn. “The Ravage boys came.”

Striker’s face is unmoving as he walks up to the man. “Ransom, good to see you.” He holds out his hand, and Ransom shakes it. What catches my attention is the woman he has his arm slung over.

She’s fucking gorgeous with dark brown hair that comes down past her shoulders, tight-ass jeans that hug her waist and flair out around her delectable hips. Her tits are fucking perky, and with her low cut shirt, I harden. When my eyes meet hers, it’s as if time stands still. They are deep blue and tell me of wicked promises.

Sure, I fuck lots of women; that’s the nature of the beast. This woman, though, is calling to me like something I never felt. And she has another man’s arm around her. Fuck me.

“Eyes off,” Ransom snaps at me, and I turn to him with a small smile.

“Appreciating the view,” I tell him coolly, not letting on that this woman just brought me to my fucking knees.

“Well, knock it the fuck off,” Ransom growls, and the woman next to him smiles, knocking the fucking wind out my sails. Fucking hell. “This is my woman, Charlotte.
My
woman,” he reiterates, but I’m already lost.

Charlotte will be mine, come hell or high water.

I wouldn’t change a fucking thing I did back then to get Ma in my bed. She’s the best fucking thing that ever happened to me. It just pisses me off that the fucker can’t let the fact that she chose me over him go. Instead, he’s trying to bring down my club.

Fuck that. I beat his ass once, I’ll fucking do it again.

I slam my fists down on the desk as a soft knock comes to the door.

“Yeah?”

The door slowly opens, and there stands my wife, my ol’ lady, my best fucking friend. My heart expands as she shuts the door and enters the room.

I rise as she comes directly to me and wraps her arms around me, holding me tight. I suck in the smell of flowers on her skin and hair as she rests her head on my chest. Ma knows me better than I know myself, and damn if that isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

“What can I do?” she asks. Not what’s going on, demanding to know; she just asks what she can do. Fuck, I love this woman.

I kiss the top of her head. “Get ready for a full house. I’m calling in everyone and their families. They’ll be here as long as it takes to fix this shit.” She squeezes me. “Ransom is back in our faces.”

Ma pulls away abruptly and looks up at me, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Ransom. He’s still carrying around the grudge.”

Ma’s hands come to the side of my face. “You mean to tell me that asshole hasn’t gotten over me walking out on him? He fucking hit me, for God’s sake.”

My temper boils as I grip her hips tight. “Don’t like fucking talkin’ about that.”

“Baby, I know.” Her eyes bore into mine. “I thought he was man enough to get over it.”

I shake my head. “No. He’s coming for us. We need to batten down the hatches.”

She leans in and presses her lips to mine. I deepen it. Even almost thirty years later, this woman still makes me hard as granite.

I will kill that motherfucker.

I exit Pops’ office and head directly to our room. We’ve had this same spot since we got together. It still feels like home, even after all this time.

I quickly make my way to the bathroom, shutting then locking the door. My body begins to tremble as I move to the toilet, put the seat down, and sit. It isn’t fear. No, what’s hitting me is anger. The fiery stuff that says everything I touch will blow. Instead of letting it, I sit on the commode, breathing in and out slowly.

“I don’t want to be with you,” I tell Ransom.

He came to my home unannounced, and I don’t want him in my space. I rent a small place, needing to get out from under my parents’ thumb. I like it here. It’s quiet, but not at the moment as Ransom’s voice picks up.

“You’re fucking with me until I say different, Tink,” he barks. I always hated that name. I am not a small, fragile fairy.

I cross my arms over my chest, standing in my doorway and blocking his path to enter. “No, you don’t make my decisions.”

Being with Ransom for the past few months has been interesting, to say the least. At first, I thought he was something special, but as the days ticked by, the real him started to come out, and I didn’t like what I saw. The demands were downright mean sometimes. While I like the whole “knowing himself” thing, Ransom takes it to a level that isn’t healthy for either of us.

I knew then I needed to leave, so I did. Unfortunately, Ransom doesn’t feel the same. Even though I told him flat out that I didn’t want to be with him anymore, he’s back. Again. I think this makes the fourth time he’s come back.

He slams his hands into the door. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you, you little slut?”

While I’ve not screwed Pops, we have spoken a few times. Not going to lie, we talked on the phone before I was fully released from Ransom. Regardless, I never did anything more than talk to him. For Ransom to accuse me of sleeping with him proves he doesn’t really know me. Probably never did.

Whenever I went out with Ransom, I always felt like arm candy, never a real person. My self-respect runs stronger than that, and I refuse to be with someone who doesn’t see me for me.