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Chapter Eleven

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I always knew there was a darkness inside Benicio. Because it called to me. The chain attached to the collar around my neck is linked to a leather cuff on his wrist. What I won’t tell him is that a part of me enjoys it. It confuses and turns me on. He turns me on like no one ever has. We bonded in our trauma, and our connection runs deeper than his being my first love. What I’ve always felt for him goes beyond that.

The past twenty-four hours have been too much. He’s put a wall up, and I don’t know if I have the energy to break it down.

I stare at him as he drives wishing I could stop questioning everything. Strapped into the passenger side of an SUV I’m being taken against my will to Royal Road. Home to the Royal Bastards MC of Nashville, TN. I’ve heard rumors about them but never met them myself. Until now.

Holy rolls down the driver’s side window at a gate and gives some dude a fist bump before being given access. We park outside of what I’m assuming is their clubhouse. A former warehouse in the old industrial part of Nashville. Loud music blares from the large building. The first thing I notice is the two long rows of motorcycles parked on either side of the entrance.

“We get in here, you keep your mouth shut. We’re here as guests. That means you don’t show your ass. Don’t talk back to me.”

“I’m your pet. Got it.”

“Good. Because you embarrass me, and I promise you that I’ll tan your ass. It’ll be one uncomfortable ride for you riding bitch on my bike to West Virginia.”

I roll my eyes at his threats. “What are we doing here?”

“I need to get my ride and catch a few hours of sleep before we get on the road.”

“So, I’m just supposed to go with you? Leave my life behind?”

“I have a wedding to officiate tomorrow.”

“A wedding?” What the hell? He’s officiating? Sure he is. And I’m a fucking long lost princess.

“Your uncle is getting married tomorrow.”

“I’m not going to a wedding.”

“Didn’t ask you to. I’m fucking telling you one last time. I came to find you and I did. You’ve got your shit so damn twisted. Want me to be the bad guy and treat you like shit. Maybe that’s what you’re used to from other men. That’s not me though despite what you think about me. Had you stopped for a minute to think you’d fucking know I’d never hurt you. You’ll always be safe with me, but that means you gotta listen to me. I’ve got a job to do and that includes getting you to West Virginia. Once I get you there you can do whatever you want. Since I’m so fucking horrible.”

I want to tell him how wrong he is, but I don’t. I let his words hang between us.

He unhooks the chain from his wrist but only long enough for us to exit the vehicle.

We stop outside of the metal door. “Remember what I said. Don’t give me any lip in here. If I can’t control my woman, it’ll make me appear weak. Make men who want a new wet hole to stick their dick in think you’re up for grabs. Some won’t take no for an answer.”

His words chill me to the bone after the shit I experienced with Bruno. I don’t think he’s bullshitting me. Not about this. I’m not stupid. I’ve dealt with assholes. Outlaws however, men like Holy—apparently live by their own code. Outside of the law. I’m no stranger to bikers who’ve come to the club. I’ve danced for them but never taken any of them up on an invitation to come party.

The moment we step over the threshold it’s like entering another world, and that’s because it is. A honky tonk biker bar. Cowboy hats, daisy duke cut offs, boots, loud music, long hair, and liquor. But it’s more than that. There appears to be an underground casino being ran out of here too. If I wasn’t being treated like a prisoner, I could have a helluva time here. Holy tugs me along to the bar. No one bats an eye at my being chained, cuffed, and collared by their biker brethren.

The men here wear cuts similar to Holy’s. I’m surrounded by Royal Bastards. Not that I expected any differently. Holy takes up a stool next to a big biker with wavy dark hair that reaches his shoulders. “Thanks for the tip.”

The man smiles into his glass of whiskey. “No problem. I see you found what you were looking for.”

Shit. Yeah. These people definitely won’t help me get out of these damn cuffs that are really starting to dig into my skin. Sounds like they told Holy exactly where and how to find me. Not good.

“Memphis, get the man a drink.”

A big busted blonde who looks like she stepped off the set of a country music video materializes behind the bar. Dressed in short denim cutoffs that curve to her booty, a black and white checkered top tied up under her tits exposing her midriff, her look is finished with a black cowgirl hat. She’s gorgeous and I shouldn’t automatically hate her for being so pretty it isn’t fair, but I do. She has her freedom.

“You came back.” She winks at Holy, placing a double shot on the bar for him. “And you brought a friend.”

“Something like that, sweetheart.”

“Find me later,” the bitch tells him like I’m not standing here chained to the asshole.

Yup. I definitely triple fucking hate her. I want to claw her eyes out and pee on Holy to mark my territory.

“Holler and swaller,” the man named Riff says, clinking his glass against Holy’s.

As I stand next to Holy while he bullshits with his buddies, I feel invisible. Not one person has glanced my way long enough to make eye contact. Not even the fat man at the end of the bar I can only describe as fat Elvis. I’m beginning to wonder if Holy’s forgotten I’m even with him when he turns to me finally and offers me a drink of his liquor. The man he’s been talking to shoves off from the bar with a nod of his chin.

“Got us a room. I’ll take you up in a minute.”

“Great,” I mutter as my stomach grumbles. I’m starving. “They got anything to eat around here?”

He slides a bowl of peanuts toward me.

“Ew. No”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs.

Guess he’s still super pissed about the whole spitting thing. It was a cunt move. I know I should apologize, but he’s treating me like a dog on a leash. It’s humiliating.

“Let’s go.” He yanks on my chain.

I want to stomp my feet and scream fuck you in his face for behaving like a complete neanderthal.

Upstairs, he releases the handcuffs. I assume he knows I have no hopes of escaping. Not yet anyway. I massage my wrists. “If you need the bathroom. Now’s the time. Right through there.” He points to a door that I’m guessing leads to a toilet.

I don’t need to go but I need a second to think. “Right. Thanks.”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I roll my eyes and enter the bathroom. It’s just a basic toilet and sink. Cleaner than expected but I still wouldn’t sit on the seat. I splash some cool water on my face. I could have killed a man today and he could have killed me. Jackson is probably freaking out. The shit with Crystal is fucked. Everything is messed up.

And apparently, I have a mother who is looking for me. I don’t get it. Why wait until now? A cruel twist of fate that the person she sends for me is Benicio. I’ve ruined that relationship too. Didn’t take long.

I destroy everything. When anything good comes along I panic.

My not showing for work tonight means no job. Lefty isn’t a forgiving man. Especially with Crystal out of the mix. I know I brought him money but there’s five other girls ready to take my place. Not that I saw stripping as a long-term career. It was a temporary solution. Fast money. Easy money, mostly.

I know I was on a bad path. Maybe this is the wakeup call to get my shit in order. Make better choices. Make amends with Beni or Holy. Whatever he wants to be called. I exit the bathroom and he’s leaned against the opposite wall, head back, eyes closed. Weight of the world appears to be resting on his shoulders.

“Hey,” I say softly, pressing my lips to his neck the way I used to in what seems like a different lifetime ago.

“Don’t. I’m tired.”

“Then let’s go to bed.” I tug on his hands. “The rest can wait.”

“Hmm. Guess it can.” He rolls his lips inward. “We’re in here.” He opens a door not far from the bathroom. He flicks on the light switch and presses me forward from behind. His breath blows against my ear as he talks low. “Only need to rest my eyes for a few hours then we gotta hit the road.”

I step further into the room. Inside it houses a full-sized bed and a nightstand. It’s not the cleanest. Some beer bottles and a bowl of pretzels rests on a table next to a chair. The events of the day are wearing on me, and I’m not in a position to be picky though I’d prefer to be back at my apartment in my own bed. Only at this hour I’d still be working the pole.

Can’t say I’d be in any shape to dance tonight anyway. One thing I am sure of. I’ll be damned if Holy is going to be finding that Memphis bitch later. I kick off my shoes and turn into him. “Do you mind?” I curve a finger under the edge of my collar.

“Get comfortable. However, you’re planning to sleep. Clothed or not.” He brings out the handcuffs again.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Can’t trust you not to try something dumb. So yeah, I’m fuckin’ serious. Not playing around with you, and I got shit to tend to before I lay my head down.”

“You mean you need to go find that whore downstairs. You don’t have to sugarcoat your bullshit for me.”

“You jealous?”

“Nope. Got no reason to be.” I reach under my shirt and undo my bra. I fling it toward him and shimmy out of my jeans. The muscle in his jaw ticks and he swallows hard. I move toward the bed, dropping my knees to the edge, crawling toward the headboard, flashing him my ass in the process.

“Take whichever side you want.” He stalks toward me slowly. I can’t read him. Not as easily as I used to be able to, but I know he’s pissed with me, and I brought this on myself.

I don’t want to back down though. I’m stubborn when I want to be.

I take purchase of the left side. I turn the covers down and pray that they are clean or close to it. I’m trying not to think about what’s went down in this bed. Can’t be any worse than some of the motels that Crystal has dragged my ass to in the past.

Holy puts a knee to the mattress, taking my left arm in his grip.

“It doesn’t have to be this way between us. I’m sorry, Beni.”

“Told you. Call me Holy.”

“I’m sorry, Holy.”

He smirks.

My apology gets me nowhere. The handcuff slaps around my wrist and the other connects to the wrought iron headboard.

“You want the light off or on?” He gets up to leave.

“Holy?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t give you any more trouble.” I try giving him a taste of sweet.

“Highly doubt that. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

“You’re going to her?”

“Don’t see where that’s any of your business.” He flicks the light off and closes the door behind him.

I kick my legs and flop from side to side. If I weren’t afraid of what’s on the pillow, I’d hold it to my face and scream. Damn him.