Chains
Over the past several weeks I’ve gotten to know my Bitsy. She has a funny sense of humor and gets along with all my brothers. However, she doesn’t interact with them unless she’s behind the bar.
Tiny hasn’t come right out and said anything yet, but me and the other guys have notice it’s the only time she’s comfortable with joking with anyone. I’ve taken my time with her, wanting her to get used to being with me before taking what we have further than I already have. However, having her ass pressed against my dick makes it harder by the day.
I don’t know what it is about my Bitsy but fuck if she doesn’t bring out the protective side in me, especially when she freaks out when I mention taking her out of the clubhouse. I swear she ended up in a full-blown panic attack.
“Please don’t make me leave the clubhouse property,” she’d pleaded.
I didn’t push her then for information but instead went to Fuse and asked him to look further into her past. Stupid move I’m sure. Too bad I don’t give a fuck.
The woman I’ve claimed as mine is scared of her own shadow and refuses to leave the clubhouse to go anywhere. I need to know what’s happened to her in order to help her.
Ela’s been coming around more to spend time with Tiny. A couple times I’ve seen the woman grimace when Tiny isn’t looking. If I were to ask Ela about it, I’d get the same answer she’s given many times already. ‘Gain her trust. Show her tenderness yet be firm. She’ll talk when she’s ready but prepare yourself it’s not going to be easy to hear.’
I’ve always hated whenever she did that. Her son, Pitch Black, said growing up with her he never got away with anything until he learned to find loopholes around her. Shit the man is still trying to find those loopholes that work without her realizing anything.
Shaking my head clear, I glance down at the paperwork on my desk. I fuckin’ hate this shit. The bitch of an accountant is still skimming money off of us. Today it turned out she wasn’t just distracted by all the dick but wants to play us.
“Tyres, call this bitch and have her come in,” I order as I lift my head to meet my VP’s gaze.
“What are we going to do with her?” he asks, his eyes lit with a fire I rarely see. There are only two things that really get him pissed, liars and thieves. Which lo and behold this little bitch is both.
Tyres and the rest of my cousins were all raised by our Uncle Ryder after what my aunts did. Those two deceitful women are the reason my cousin detests people who lie and take what doesn’t belong to them.
I don’t blame him for anything that happened to Vi. If anything, my cousins and I are more like brothers than anything. And those two witches are rotting in cells at the Fairy Mental Institution up in Virginia.
Weird name I know but it’s just a cover for what the place really is.
A place of torture.
The director of the Institution named each level after the different regions of the underworld in Greek mythology. I believe my aunts are rotting in what is called the River of Phlegethon. In mythology it’s the river of fire and at the Institution it’s set up to blow fire out of the walls in random sections.
Ryder’s gone there several times to make sure those bitches are still where they’re supposed to be and are miserable.
“We confront her. Ask why. If her reasons aren’t good enough, we’ll figure it out from there,” I shrug.
Nodding, Tyres is about to say something when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call out and a smile crosses my face the moment I see who it is.
My Bitsy.
“I’m sorry to bother you. I, umm, I needed to ask if someone could go to town and get a few things,” she says quietly.
“Bitsy, what do you need?” I ask.
“I was doing inventory and realized I’m low on Jack and Jim. I also need a couple things for myself. I have the money to pay for it. I just need someone to go for me,” she murmurs but the way her cheeks turn a bright pink, I wonder what it is she needs.
“Why don’t you and I go?” I suggest and again her eyes widen as her breathing seems to become harder.
“No. Umm, I can’t I have to finish the inventory,” she protests.
“We’ll get a prospect to finish it,” Tyres says before I can respond. “What if a couple of us go with you all. I know I need a few things from the store myself.”
I could fuckin’ hug my cousin right now.
“I . . . I guess that will work,” she murmurs knowing she’s not going to win this battle.
I only gave in the first time because I didn’t want to push too hard and scare her. With Tyres suggesting what he has, it will hopefully put her at ease.
“Bitsy, come here,” I command, holding my arms open for her to come sit on my lap.
Slowly my woman makes her way over, as she gets close enough, I pull her the rest of the way into me, settling her in my lap.
“Why do you feel scared about leaving the clubhouse?” I ask.
Tiny glances from me to Tyres then focuses back on me.
“Whatever it is you can say in front of him. He’s not only my VP, but he’s my cousin.” I say firmly. I’m learning when it comes to Bitsy you have to use firm tones with her. However, when someone yells, she flinches and steps back as far as she can.
“B–Because I’m scared. I don’t want to be taken. I–If he finds me, he’ll take me and make an example of me.” The fear in her voice sends my protective instincts into overdrive.
“Who?” I demand.
“My father and his men,” she whispers so quietly I almost don’t hear her.
Fuckin’ hell if it’s not one thing it’s another and now I’ll have to make sure everyone is on high alert.
Chapter Eight
Tiny
Confessing my greatest fear almost feels like a weight off my shoulders.
Almost.
Sure, it’s not the only thing that I fear. I fear Jackal or someone like him will get ahold of me again and do what he did to me.
Fear consumes me with everything that I do. I guess you can call me a scared pansy or whatnot.
“How about we make it a run? All of us go for a ride and then we’ll stop long enough for you to get what you need from the store.” My heart stops at the caring thoughtfulness of Chains. He’s been nothing but tender with me since we started whatever we are.
I wish I knew what we were exactly. I don’t want to assume anything, but I also don’t want to ask.
“Okay,” I murmur in agreement.
“Good, Tyres, go let the brothers who are here know we’re going for a run. Have a prospect take a cage and meet us in town. We’ll put whatever we get in there,” he orders his VP, while running a hand along my spine.
Tingling sensations shoot through my body as I savor his touch.
“You got it, Prez. When do you want to leave?” Tyres asks.
“Thirty-minutes,” Chains says, glancing in his VP’s direction briefly.
The moment Tyres leaves us alone, Chains guides my movements until I’m straddling his lap.