Betrayed (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Betrayed (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 2)
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‘You don’t like taking risks?’

Man, this one ain’t scared of shit. ‘Not every risk’s worth taking.’

She smiles again, and I can almost feel her tits pushing against me. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ she breathes, and my cock starts to react but I know when to step away. And that time’s now.

‘I think I can live with the disappointment.’

I pull back from her, but she ain’t one for giving up easy. ‘You’ll be back.’

‘You reckon?’

She reaches out to touch my cheek but I grab her wrist and pull her hand away.

‘Don’t touch what ain’t yours, darlin’.’

She looks at me, and I know exactly the kinda girl she is now. ‘Your wife used to sleep with your President, didn’t she? Your cousin.’

My grip on her wrist tightens slightly as I stare her down. ‘That ain’t none of your business.’

‘He came looking for her – Mack. Didn’t he? Just not sure he expected you two to end up married, huh?’

‘You gotta learn when to keep that mouth of yours shut, sweetheart.’

‘She still got feelings for him, though, right? That the reason your face is all messed-up?’

I squeeze her wrist even tighter, but it don’t seem to bother her, she’s still looking right at me like she don’t give a crap what I do to her.

‘You need a woman who doesn’t have that kind of baggage, Zeb. A woman who can concentrate solely on you.’

I drop her arm and step away from her. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game here.’

‘Like I said, I’m not afraid to play with fire.’

‘Maybe you should be.’

She should. Maybe…

 

 

Mack

 

There’s that old saying, right? Give someone enough rope and eventually they’ll hang themselves. Looks like I ain’t gonna have to throw too much more at my cousin. It’s like Kit was sent from heaven to make my job a hell of a lot easier, but there’s still this part of me that’s struggling with the kind of betrayal I’m wishing for here. I want Izzi, but she don’t belong to me, not anymore. She belongs to my V.P. And I always made it clear that no-one in my club goes after another brother’s old lady, it just ain’t done. Yet here I am giving myself permission to do the one thing we just don’t do. We’re a brotherhood. We stick together, play by our rules, but I’m breaking mine.

I watch as Kit pursues her goal with dogged determination, and although Zeb’s backing off this time, that girl is gonna push him, I know she is. And I was gonna encourage her, y’know? Try to make sure she drove a wedge between Zeb and Izzi that pushed them so far apart they’d never find a way back. But I might not actually have to work too hard to achieve that after all. Looks like someone’s gonna be doing that job for me. So, what does that mean, huh? What do I do now?
 
Sit back and wait for Izzi and Zeb’s marriage to crumble around them? And then what? Step in and play the knight in shining armor? Offer her a shoulder to cry on? Deep down I know that’s still wrong. She’d still be Zeb’s, I’d still be taking her from him and I can’t be seen to do that. Not as President. Not as any member of this club. It just ain’t done.

I drop to my haunches and bow my head, breathing in deep because I know what I have to do now. It’s the only thing I
can
do, if I really want Izzi that badly.

So, I have two decisions to make here.

How much do I really need this club?

How much do I really want Izzi?

 

 

Izzi

 

I pick up the bottle of bourbon and set it straight back down again. I don’t want another drink. I actually want to keep a clear head, which is probably more than Zeb’s doing right now. Because I know where he is. He’ll be at
Six
, watching those girls do everything I used to do before I became his. And I know I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I married him; when I became his property, because that’s what I am. Mack’s right. Zeb owns me. And I’m OK with that, most of the time. Or I was. But seeing him and Mack tonight, at each others’ throats, over what I don’t know… seeing that, it’s kicked up all sorts of crap that I thought only bourbon and pizza would sort out. The pizza helped ease the growls of hunger my stomach was throwing out, but the bourbon only clouded my judgement, so I’m leaving that alone now.

I head upstairs and step under a warm shower, washing the day away. And maybe I should have gone to
Six
too, I mean, it’s opening night, and I’m married to the club’s V.P. But I doubt Zeb’ll miss me. I know what he can be like when he’s pissed about something, and I don’t always want to be around that. I just hope the trouble I witnessed between him and Mack doesn’t spill over into
Six
.

I go into the bedroom and turn on some music, losing myself in Joe Bonamassa’s rasping rock/blues as I rub lotion into my damp skin, and I slowly feel myself start to relax. Zeb just needs to let off some steam, for some reason. He’s got something on his mind, that’s obvious, but I’m not sure it’s my place to push him on that score. I’m still learning what it really means to be the wife of an outlaw. And I don’t think asking too many questions is part of my job.

Wrapping a short robe around myself I go back downstairs, into the kitchen, and grab another slice of pizza from the open box on the counter, eating it as I clear up mugs and plates still left over from breakfast. And then I hear the front door slam shut. Zeb’s back. And my stomach does a tiny flip, and I’m not sure whether that’s out of excitement or fear, today’s kind of messed with my head a bit. And Mack’s words; the way he looked at me as he said those things, it still makes me feel sick.

‘You weren’t at
Six
.’

I turn to see Zeb throw his cut over a chair before he opens the fridge and gets himself a beer, biting off the top and downing a long mouthful.

‘The mood you were in I’m surprised you cared whether I was there or not.’

He stops drinking and locks eyes with me, and I feel a shiver tear through me, but it’s not in a good way. And then he sets his beer down on the table and strides towards me, not stopping until he’s right in front of me, his eyes dark and angry and, yeah. He’s drunk. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. ‘You’re my fucking wife, Izzi. And tonight you should have been by my side, showing me some fucking support, so where were you, huh?’

‘Where do you
think
I was, Zeb?’ I step back from him. He isn’t doing this to me, I don’t deserve that. I wasn’t the one in the wrong tonight.

He smiles, and then he laughs quietly as he drags a hand over his shorter hair. ‘Where did you
want
to be, Izzi?’

‘Go to bed, Zeb. You’re drunk.’

He grabs my wrist and I try to yank it free but he’s too strong. ‘You don’t tell me what to do, darlin’. You got that? Remember your fucking place.’

I manage to wrench my arm free of his grip, my eyes boring into his, and I’m glad I stayed pretty much sober. That makes me the one in control here.

‘I need another drink,’ he mutters, turning away and going back over to the fridge, fetching himself a fresh beer.

‘That solves everything, huh? Another drink.’

He turns around and glares at me, and I’ve seen that look in his eyes before, and it should scare me, but after everything I’ve been through it doesn’t. Not anymore. ‘Did you not hear what I just said? You don’t get to tell me what to do. How to act.’ He rips the top off the beer but he doesn’t take a drink, and my eyes never leave his as he walks over to me, my stomach turning over and over in a mixture of nerves and fear. ‘Me, on the other hand – you do as I say, sweetheart. You got that?’ He tucks a finger under my chin and smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘You take one step outta line, princess, and we’re gonna have a problem.’

‘Fuck you!’ I hiss, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away but he’s faster and stronger than me, and before I can even take another breath he’s pinned me back against the counter, his face right up in mine, the whiskey on his breath almost suffocating me.

‘No, you see, you’re not playing by the rules now, darlin’.’

But I’m not completely at a disadvantage here, and as I raise my knee the kick to his groin I dole out takes him by surprise as he doubles over and staggers backwards. The bottle he was holding drops to the floor, glass shattering and beer spilling all over the tiles and I watch as he slowly raises himself upright, the laugh he gives verging on maniacal.

‘You really wanna play this game, huh?’

‘What the hell was that with Mack tonight?’

His face darkens again, and I reach behind me, my fingers gripping the edge of the countertop. ‘What do
you
care?’

‘I care about
you
, Zeb. Or is that not allowed either?’

He pushes both hands through his hair and walks towards me again, and again I feel my stomach react, my heart pounding away behind my ribs. ‘Do you still want him, Izzi?’

‘Jesus Christ, Zeb, just go to bed and sleep this shitty mood of yours off, OK?’

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do, remember? How many times I gotta repeat myself, darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t a fan of that, I gotta tell you.’

‘Whatever I say you’re not going to believe me anyway, are you? Not when you’re like this. You want to act like some adolescent schoolboy? I’ll treat you like one…’

His hand cups my cheek, and he cocks his head as he stares at me. ‘He still wants
you
, princess. Oh, he stood there and he told me he don’t want you no more but I can tell the son-of-a-bitch was lying. To my fucking face. He still wants
you
. And I think you still want him…’

I push his hand off me and walk away, and he doesn’t follow. But he doesn’t leave it alone, either.

‘I don’t think you ever stopped wanting him, Izzi. I don’t think that happened, I…’

I swing around and stare at him, yeah, I’m angry. I’m fucking angry now. Why? Because my drunk, jackass of a husband has hit a nerve? ‘You know nothing, Zeb. So just leave this, OK? You’re drunk. You’ve had a bad night. You’ve got something on your mind you obviously don’t want to talk about…’

He’s on me in a second, his hand on my neck as he pushes me back against the table. ‘Damn right I got something on my mind. You don’t know the fucking half of it, darlin’.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘Ain’t got nothing to do with you.’

‘I’m just something you use to take your frustration out on, huh? I don’t need to know why, I don’t have that right. Is that how this works?’

‘You might wanna learn when to keep that smart mouth shut, Izzi.’

‘I’m not your fucking punchbag, Zeb. Go find someone else to take your shit out on.’

His mouth crashes down onto mine but I push him off, I don’t want this. I don’t want
him
, like
this.

‘You’re my wife, Izzi. I don’t need no-one else.’

‘But you think I do?’

‘I think you should learn when to leave shit alone.’

‘Oh, OK. I get it. You’re still pissed at me because I broke up your playground fight with Mack, huh? Is that it?’

‘Don’t fucking push me, Izzi. Don’t do that, baby.’

‘Don’t threaten me, Zeb, because I don’t listen to that kind of crap.’

‘Maybe you should. Maybe then you’d start learning how to be a proper old lady.’

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