“You’re only young once.”
She smiles and I know the moment of worry has passed, that I dodged this bullet narrowly. Sooner or later, though, she’s going to recognise my destructive behaviour for what it is, and as soon as she does, she’s going to put a stop to it. By that point, I’m not sure she’ll be able to.
“I didn’t feel very young on Saturday morning.”
“Me neither,” I confess, especially with Daimon growling at me when I woke up. “Was he at least good?”
She gets a dreamy look on her face. “Tanner was amazing.” I doubt he was amazing. He was as drunk as we were. “Did you stay long after we left?”
My eyes roll at her question. “I wish. Levi’s club brother dragged me out of there. God knows how he knew I was even there.”
I have no idea how Daimon knew I was there, but his words about enemy territory roll around my brain. He said I put his and Kyle’s lives in danger. The thought makes ice settle in the pit of my stomach. I never want to risk his life—or anyone else’s. My self-destruction is only supposed to hurt me.
Layla hisses a curse under her breath. “He had no right to do that!”
“No,” I agree, but secretly, I’m glad Daimon did pull me out of there. Fuck knows what might have happened otherwise. It wouldn’t be the first time a man took what he wanted from me without permission.
Bile races up my throat at that thought and my palms suddenly feel too warm as it triggers a memory of hands touching me, pawing at me, taking from me. It’s a memory I tried to bury so deep it would never see the light of day, but my defences are weakening lately. My sober moments leave me exposed. The only thing that stops the darkness from sneaking out is booze.
I shake it off, but Layla notices. Her eyes narrow.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you seeing Mr Tall and Hot again?” I change the subject as I wipe my warm palms on my skirt, my heart starting to race.
She frowns at me and I see the suspicion in her face as she eyes me. She doesn’t push it, though. She knows better.
“Probably not.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
Because Layla is incapable of settling down with anyone. She’s a ‘love them and leave them’ type. Getting close isn’t an option. I might have issues, but Layla isn’t without her own. She has commitment issues that stem from her dad walking out on her when she was a kid. I hate that she’s this way. She deserves a chance at happiness and if she took a chance, she’d maybe find Mr Right.
“He might be the right fit for you.”
Layla snorts. “I doubt it, and I doubt he’s looking for anything long term either. They all just want to fuck and run.”
I want to point out that’s because we spend all our time picking up random guys in clubs, rather than making meaningful connections, but I doubt she would listen even if I did. I keep quiet.
“So which brother dragged you out of Rave?”
“Daimon.”
Her smile grows. “He’s hot.”
He is, but I draw my brows together. “He’s also a bossy psycho.”
Layla waves this off as inconsequential. “Hot. That’s all that matters, girl.”
“He’s a biker. I’m not looking for a walk on the wild side, and even if I was, he’s, like, twelve years older than me. I doubt he’s interested in more.”
“Honey, they’re all interested. I hate to say it, but you’re hot too.”
I scowl at her as a tendril of hope unfurls in my belly. I shut that feeling down immediately. The last thing I need to think about is Daimon in that way. I’ve trusted bikers before, only to have that trust pulled out from under my feet. I’ll never trust another biker again.
“Can we stop talking about Daimon?”
She shrugs. “What are we doing tonight?”
I don’t feel like going out, not after what happened last time, so I shrug. “There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge. That and some takeout sounds perfect.”
I expect an argument, but she doesn’t give me one. She nods and moves over to the kettle to make her own coffee.
“I better drink this and get showered. I’m going to be late for work.”
I glance at my watch and note the time. “Yeah, me too. I’ve got to get going.”
I stand from the bar stool and snag my phone.
“Briella?”
“Yeah?”
“You are okay, aren’t you?”
No.
I force a smile. “I’m fine.”
On that lie, I leave the flat. Lying never makes me feel good, but lying to my best friend feels awful.
5
Daimon
It takes Ravage a few days to call church. I expected it sooner, considering what Levi told me at the bar the night we talked about his sister, but knowing Rav he needed time to get all the information together and work on a plan. He might come across as a hot head, but he’s a clever bastard. He won’t act until he’s thought everything through.
I’m sitting at the table in the chapel—our meeting room—with Fury and Whizz either side of me. Titch, Levi and Nox are sitting on the opposite side of the table while Rav is at the head. His ringed fingers tap against the wood as his eyes shift around each of us, taking us in. If I hadn’t known the man for years, I might have squirmed under that scrutiny, but I meet his gaze head on. I’m not scared of Ravage, though I probably should be. He’s a man who will do whatever is necessary to keep our empire running. I respect that about him. If I cross the line, I know he’ll do what’s needed to fix it.
I’ve seen the lengths he’s willing to go to in order to protect the club and the mismatched family we have become. He killed his own brother not too long ago.
Sin, who was our former VP, raped Ravage’s old lady—a crime that could never go unpunished. Sin had to die for that. You don’t touch an old lady ever, and I was glad Ravage didn’t make excuses not to do it. He knew it couldn’t stand, knew how much we loved Sasha and that we’d expect her to have justice. He didn’t even hesitate when he shoved his knife into his brother’s body. It fucked him up afterwards, those demons in his eyes closer to the surface as he tried to reconcile with what he did, but thanks to Sasha and his daughter, Lily-May, he’s finally coming out of the other side.
“Our Manchester chapter has some shit going down,” Rav says finally. “Don’t know how bad it’ll get, but I want them protected.”
A murmur of agreement goes around the table. I like Howler. He’s a decent guy and a good president. He runs the Manchester chapter with an iron-fist that has made them successful. His club also forms a major part of our drug running enterprise. We can’t afford for them to be knocked out of action.
“Can we send men to help?” Titch asks.
“Might come to that. We’re in talks with Omen and Havoc about getting more guns shipped over, in case shit goes down.”
Which is what Levi told me when we talked. The Tennessee chapter is our main weapons supplier and Omen can get hold of anything we need, including military-grade weaponry.