Lucky (Inked Menace MC 1) (5 page)

7
Chapter Seven

“So this is hell,” Cecelia said and clucked her tongue. “I like it.”

Lucky showed her some teeth and tightened his grip on her waist. “Think you’re amusing, do you?”

“I know so.”

Her new boyfriend laughed. One of those sexy low rumbles.
Pretend boyfriend,
her mind whispered and she stilled for a heartbeat. Right. This was just a ruse to keep her safe. They weren’t going to magically fall in love and live happily ever after.

She glanced at him up and down, fire igniting in her belly. Cecelia imagined them sharing a bed and her body heated like molten lava. Sure, lust she could handle. But a long time ago she’d locked up her heart, unwilling to get hurt again. Love wasn’t worth the price you paid. She tried to pretend she didn’t see the way his eyes roamed her figure, or the way they seemed to glow from within, like he had some internal fire raging and she was the water to quench his heat.

A few of his crew hung around, but this wasn’t the formal meet with the whole club; that would happen later tonight. He nodded to a few members and kept walking toward the double doors and the meeting room. He knocked twice and entered, holding Cecelia’s hand as she chattered nervously beside him.

The group around the table stopped talking as they walked in, and Cecelia squeezed his hand so hard she thought his knuckles would crack.

The one she’d seen at the tattoo parlor stood and held out a hand. “I’m Patrick James. This is Cole, Brian, Marina, Bob, and Oliver.” He gestured around the thick wooden table carved with signatures, animals, and scratches.

She noticed Lucky watching her study his club and shake their hands one by one. She swallowed hard and trembled slightly next to him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly and lowered her face.

Patrick waved a hand in the air. “Sit down. We have some things to iron out.”

They sat and waited. Lucky reached out and stretched an arm over her shoulder.

“You can call me Hammer,” the tough-as-nails man at the head of the table said to her. “This is Flip, Meat, Flash, Brick, and Pretty-Boy.”

“Are those the names you want me to call you?”

Hammer nodded. “Especially in front of club members. It shows you’re one of us.”

“Okay.”

Cecelia mumbled both sets of names under her breath, glancing around the table to put names with faces. Her gaze stopped on Marina/Flash. The woman’s red hair blazed under the harsh halogen lights, and her eyes were shrewd as she stared right back at Cecilia with her arms crossed over her chest, leather corset strung tight over her voluptuous breasts. She was not a bitch to be messed with, that much Cecelia could tell. The sly smile on the woman’s face coupled with the myriad of tiny scars and silver lines described a life filled with battles. Cecelia was no stranger to battle. After a few tense moments of staring at each other, Flash looked down and away, glancing out the window with her jaw clenched and her fingers curved around the edge of the table.

Lucky’s leg hit her thigh and when Cecelia turned her face to him, he smiled at her and nodded with encouragement. She breathed out and tried to compartmentalize her new situation. It wasn’t every day you got thrust into a motorcycle gang in order to help with your crazy ex-husband who was trying to murder you. But them’s the breaks.

“So what do we do now?”

The one they called Meat answered. “We have a pow-wow with the other presidents, to see if we can get this ironed out.”

Flash leaned forward against the table and said, “When is the sit-down, boss?”

Hammer perused each of the club members, his gaze settling on Cecelia. “One week from Saturday, at Merlot’s Tavern outside city limits. It’s a no-color zone. No weapons,” he grinned, and the members laughed. The hairs on the back of Cecilia’s neck rose to the sinister tremor around the room. “Darius and Vinny will be there with the circle.”

Next to her, Lucky shifted on his seat and rested his elbows on the table. “Can we guarantee her safety?”

“She’s not coming to the sit-down, Luck. We’ll host a meet and greet here, on Friday night. We’ll have pussy, drugs, and frivolity. Then we’ll sit down and hash shit out Saturday night while she” – he thumbed in Cecelia’s direction – “stays here locked down.”

Apprehension wove through her blood. “I don’t get a say in this?”

Hammer rolled his eyes skyward, their hazel color coated in a sinister glow. “You will sit here, listen, and do what you’re told. That’s how you stay alive. Unless of course you have a death wish, in which case, by all means, crash the meet and let them hack your neck from your body and take it back to your ex-husband for two million dollars.”

Cecelia swallowed the dry lump in her throat and cleared her throat. “Um, that’s all right. Sorry. I’ll go with your plan.”

“Smart girl,” Flip said from across the table. “We could use the two mil. Don’t forget that, sweetheart.” The snide way he said the endearment made her clench her fists.

“I didn’t ask for your help. You came to me. Maybe you should remember that before you go around shooting threats at innocent people.”

“Please. Innocent.” Flip shook his head and a few others laughed. “You have a bounty on your head. How innocent can you be?”

“I didn’t ask for this. I did nothing wrong,” she said, shaking slightly, and rubbed her hand up her abdomen absently. She wondered if they knew about Olivia. Whether it would change their minds about helping her. Or would they think she was weak, unable to protect her unborn child from harm?

“All right, enough,” Hammer called out, bringing the focus back to him. “We need you to stay here so we don’t have to worry about you. That way we can concentrate on getting these douchebags to walk away and leave our territory before something unfortunate happens to them. Or you.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Lucky stated.

All eyes turned to him and the one they called Pretty-Boy raised a brow. “Will you, now?”

“Careful, Pretty-Boy. You know it’s not wise to get me riled up.”

“Whatcha gonna do, Lucky? Run away again like a little bitch and hide while the rest of us bleed out and pick up after you again?”

Lucky exploded from the chair and was across the table with a hand around the blond’s throat before Cecelia even registered the dire situation.

None of the others moved. In fact, they looked rather bored.

“Stop it!” Cecelia yelled. “Why aren’t you guys doing anything?”

She stood and glared around the room. Hammer cleaned his nails. Flip sat back, an amused grin on his face. Flash licked her lips and watched the two men radiate menace from a foot away and did nothing. The man at the end, Brick, whistled a show tune.

In exasperation, Cecelia strode around the table and stopped behind Pretty-Boy. She reached out and grabbed his head with her hands and said into his ear, “Now, you listen to me. I’m not going to tolerate any rudeness from you. I don’t know jack shit about what y’all are talking about, but I know it ain’t good. I also know y’all are brothers, so stop acting like children, grow up, and be fucking respectful of the other people sitting around this table.”

Lucky blinked, his face two inches from Pretty-Boy, and flicked his gaze to meet Cecelia’s. She swore his eyes changed color in the space between one blink and the next, but then he let go of the throat of the man in front of ’her and reared back.

“We’re going to protect this little bird, you hear me? Anything happens to her, and shit will hit the fan real fast.”

“Everyone settle down. Get back into your seats,” Hammer said. He picked up his gavel and slammed it down on the corner of the table.

“There’s been enough bloodshed,” Flip said. “For now we need to protect our own, and like it or not, the vote went down, and she’s our own.”

“I’m sure there’ll be more spilled where she’s concerned,” Flash piped up from down the table. She stretched her arms over her head and pushed her breasts forward. “She’s a pretty little thing with a lithe body. I’m sure once the others catch her scent, they’ll be all over her.”

A low growl came from next to her, startling Cecelia and making her jump a little. The fury radiating off of Lucky was a palpable thing.

“Stay away from her. All of you.”

“Lucky? You okay?” Cecelia rested a hand on his forearm, and the heat from his skin leached into hers. It was like touching a live wire.

“No. I’m not. Are we done here?”

Hammer sighed and knocked the gavel down three times. “We protect what’s ours. Dismissed.”

Lucky abruptly stood and grabbed her hand, tugging her to stand. He turned without a word and pulled her with him, hard enough that she squeaked.

“Sorry,” Lucky mumbled and let her arm go. “Please come with me.”

His face was an open book of misery, and rather than scaring her, it made her want to comfort him. She lifted her hand to his face and cupped his cheek. He nuzzled her palm with stubble and closed his eyes for a second. When they opened again, they were clearer. Less opaque.

“I’ll follow you,” she said to make sure he understood that she’d willingly go with him; he didn’t have to force her.

“Thank you,” he muttered and exhaled hard. He opened the double doors and started to walk out into the main room.

As they walked, members lifted their faces, a few of them sniffing the air and her as she walked by.

“Fuck,” one of them said, licking his lips. “Sweet heaven of the gods.”

“Mine,” she thought she heard Lucky say, but that was absurd. Her imagination must be running away with her due to lack of sleep and large doses of stress.

They went left, further into the building, then turned down a narrow hallway. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To my place here. I need to think, and I can’t get my head on straight.”

“Oh.”

The news rattled her. The one man she kind of, sort of, maybe trusted, was about to have a nervous breakdown. Of all the shit luck.

She burst out laughing, little tears rolling down her cheeks as she bit her lip. Lucky spun around and she pressed her back against the wall. He stalked closer, giving her time to see what he was doing. He placed his hands on either side of her head against the wall behind her and leaned down close to her neck, inhaling.

Her panties dampened, even though she knew it was weird. Weird that she was turned on by such a dominant display, by the heat in his eyes, the tense lines on his face.

“Need to taste you.”

He said the words and didn’t hesitate. His warm lips pushed against hers as he slipped his tongue softly into her mouth, stroking hers. Lucky stepped closer, his intoxicating scent wrapping around her body, cocooning her in a lust-filled haze. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved away from the wall, pressing against the heat of his body, and kissed him harder. With more fervor.

He groaned and slipped his palms down her back in a slow slide, then gripped her ass in powerful hands. His erection rubbed her abdomen, and little moans and tingling nerves shot around her body.

“Come on,” he whispered. He pulled away enough to duck down and catch her eyes. His pupils were huge, eclipsing the light green color of his irises.

“Lucky, what’s going on?”

A low, raspy voice said, “I don’t know. But I need more.”

The gravel-filled tone set alarm bells ringing in her ears and she put her hands on his chest. “Lucky,” she said firmly.

In answer he prowled closer, pressing her back against the wall, pinning her with his body.

Inside, she was terrified. A sudden, potent fear clamored through her system. “Lucky, you’re scaring me. Please. Please stop. I can’t breathe.”

“Fuck. What’s going on?” He shook his head, then gripped it with both hands, clutching his hair. His body seemed to hum.

Cecelia slipped underneath his arm and moved away, back toward the door they had come through.

“Don’t go, bird. I’m sorry. I’m losing control.”

She watched as Lucky sank down on the floor, sat with his knees up and his head resting on his forearms. He picked his face up and his piercing gaze bored a hole right into her. Her heart skipped a beat. Her palms dampened and a fine sheen of sweat caressed her face. She froze in place, her feet unwilling to allow her to leave, but her brain feverishly whispering that she was being stupid. That this man was dangerous.

Something inside her forced her to move back to his side, to slide down and sit next to him, keeping a few inches between their bodies. “I want to help. Tell me what I can do.”

Lucky’s mirthless laugh echoed inside her heart. “There’s no help for me. It’s a prison of my own making that I can’t escape from. I’m afraid to fail. I can’t fail again.”

“You’re not making sense, Luke.”

“I like when you call me by my real name. It reminds me that I’m more than I am.”

She reached and stroked his arm, trying to soothe whatever demons haunted him. Part of her knew how wretched those demonic thoughts could be. “I like when you call me bird. It makes me feel free somehow, but grounded.”

Cecelia’s body began to hum in tune with Lucky’s. Almost like they vibrated on the same frequency. “This isn’t going to end well.”