Haven: Renegade Saints MC (10 page)

The waitress stopped by in front of us and we each ordered two more pints and shots.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” I said. “I told this fuck to leave her alone, but it obviously didn’t convince her.”

“You think he listened to you?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Fuck you,” I said in a joking tone as we clinked shot glasses together. “I’m fucking Max Adams, of course he listened to me.”

“Whatever, man,” Paul said. He gulped some of his beer and changed the subject to an upcoming weekend ride.

Every summer, the Renegade Saints drove up to New Hampshire for a week on the lakes with other bikers. It was a hell of a time, and we usually made the paper at least once because some dumbshits got into a fight. I’d always gone as a single man, except for when I’d been with Talia, and now I wasn’t sure what was going to go on. There was a lot of fucking that went down over that week, but oddly, the prospect didn’t excite me the way it had a year or two ago.

“I can’t wait,” Paul said. He grinned at me. “So many girls, so little time.”

“Wear a rubber,” I advised. “You don’t want some bitch calling you and telling you that you knocked her up.”

Paul pretended to shudder. It was like our serious chat of a few minutes ago had already disappeared. I could tell he was relieved that the subject had changed; he didn’t want to dwell on his dead mother any more than I wanted to dwell on Silas beating the shit out of my wife.

But I couldn’t not dwell on it. Even though I’d been feeling cocksure and confident earlier, now I wasn’t sure that I’d been right. After all, if Silas was as deranged as Tori said and Paul implied, he wasn’t going to stop until she was dead.

A cold chill ran through me.

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked when I stopped laughing.

I shook my head. “I got a bad feeling,” I said, turning the words over in my head. “I dunno, I can’t put a finger on it. But I feel like Tori might have been right about something.”

Paul looked at me. “We gotta get you out of here,” he said. “Come on, man. Come have a smoke with me.”

I rolled my eyes. Draining the rest of my beer, I strode into the men’s to take a piss, then joined Paul outside. It was the middle of the afternoon, hot and muggy, and I realized that I was a little drunk on my feet.

“Hey, do you see that guy?” Paul punched me on the shoulder and pointed towards the street. He sniggered. A skinny, tall blond guy was walking along the sidewalk, glaring down at his feet.

To my surprise, he turned on a dime and started towards us.

“Yo, I don’t think we know you,” I said as he got closer. His expression changed from one of simple malice to pure hatred, and before I knew it, I saw him balling his hands into fists at his side.

“Do we know you, man?” Paul asked.

The blond man kept advancing.
Holy shit
. “I know who that fucker is,” I said under my breath as he got closer. “It’s Silas.”

“That’s right, asshole,” Silas replied. He turned to me and glared. He was a reedy, thin man with a skinny, long face that looked like a rat. “You fucker,” he said, leaning to the side and spitting on the ground. “You really married to Victoria?”

I sniggered, holding my left hand up in the air. “I got a ring on it and everything,” I said with a smirk.

“Watch out,” Paul muttered behind me. “That asshole looks dangerous.”

“He looks like a fuckin’ pussy,” I announced loudly.

Silas’s face twisted with rage, and he sprung at me like an animal released from a cage. Laughing, I reached up and grabbed his fist, twisting his arm down and making him howl.

“Fuck you,” Silas spat. “Fight me like a fuckin’ man!”

“Okay,” I said, grinning. Balling my hand into a fist, I swung it behind my body and cracked Silas hard on the face. Blood streamed down out of his thin nostrils and he spat on the ground, leaving a tooth in a pile of gore.

“That good enough for you?” Paul taunted.

Silas lowered his head and tried to charge me like a bull. As quickly as I could, I yanked my knee upward and right into Silas’s face. I could feel cartilage and bone cracking.

Silas crumped to the ground with his arms wrapped around his knees, moaning.

“You’re a pathetic little shit,” I mumbled down at his body. “You need to stay the fuck away from Tori, got it?”

Silas opened his eyes and stared at me. Despite his mauled face, I saw real hatred in his eyes. “I’ll do what I want,” he said in a raspy voice, spitting blood into the air. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, you piece of white trash shit.”

I reached down and grabbed Silas by his shirt collar, yanking him to his feet. I was surprised at how light he was: he was like a feather, or a little kid.

“We need to get one thing straight,” I said loudly. “One thing, you got that? If you go near my wife again, I will personally take the time from my day to put a bullet in your brain.”

Silas stared at me. He opened his mouth and I swung my fist back again, preparing to punch the hell out of him. But then he closed his lips. I saw a brief look of defeat flash over his face.

“You got that?” I asked again, my breath coming heavier than before. My heart was pounding in my chest and my blood was gushing hotly through my veins. It was almost the exact same feeling that I’d had the night before, when Tori and I had been fucking each other’s brains out. It was pure energy, exhilaration.

Silas laughed. I almost dropped him when I heard the weird sound bubbling up from this skinny, reedy slip of a man. But instead I held onto his collar and pressed my forehead up against his.

“You gonna kill me like you killed Kristoff, you asshole?” His words were soft and slight and they lit a fire filled with rage in me that spread throughout all of my limbs. I wanted to kill him, rip him limb from limb in the parking lot of this shitty bar. But before I could do anything, I felt Paul’s hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t do it, man,” he said, casting a pathetic look at Silas. “He ain’t worth it.”

I curled my lips into a sneer. “That’s damn right he ain’t worth it,” I muttered, dropping Silas to the ground like a sack of flour. He cried out as his body hit the pavement and he curled up around himself in the fetal position, moaning loudly. He was throwing himself from side to side and wailing, like someone would show up and rescue him.

It made me sick. “You treated Tori like shit, you hurt her much worse than this while you were together,” I snarled under my breath. “And now you just act like a huge pussy when someone your own size beats you up?”

“Max, come on,” Paul said. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and led me back towards The Rusty Bucket. “He ain’t worth it right now. You really beat the hell out of him. I doubt he’ll bother Tori after that.”

I shook my head. “I know better,” I said. “I don’t think he’ll try anything, but I’m not sure. Who knows?”

Paul glanced at me, then down to Silas’s prone, bleeding body. I could tell that I’d broken his nose and possibly a few teeth. His face was already swelling out of proportion; he was going to have one hell of a black eye in the morning.

“Tori’s worth all of this,” I muttered to myself. “She is. I gotta go home, Paul. I gotta check on her and make sure she’s okay.”

“You shouldn’t be driving right now,” Paul replied. He clamped a hand down on my arm and tried to lead me back inside the bar. “Come on, have another drink and calm down. Then we’ll go see Tori together, okay?”

Something flared inside of me. I couldn’t explain exactly what it was but it felt like lust, or rage, or something foreign that I’d never felt before. But suddenly I wanted nothing to do with Paul. I didn’t want to hear any more stories about his father beating up his mom, I didn’t want to keep sipping cheap whiskey and thinking about how to rip the man who’d hurt my wife apart.

I wanted to go home and see Tori, right now. The urge scared me a little bit. Even with Talia, I wasn’t comfortable admitting how much I wanted her around all the time. I felt like I had to act cool, act like she didn’t really mean that much to me. I had a feeling that Talia always knew how obsessed with her I was, even if I never said anything to that effect.

But Tori was different. Despite having known her for my whole life, I barely knew her. I knew she was wild, impulsive, loud. I knew she was a fucking fantastic lay. And I knew she was my wife. That was about it. Why was I feeling so pulled towards her? It was ridiculous, and I found myself feeling incredibly irritated by how badly I wanted her. Her scent of cinnamon and honey, the way she tossed her hair over her shoulder.
The way she spreads her legs for you, with that knowing little grin
, I thought to myself. I could feel myself getting rock hard in the parking lot, and I reached down to adjust my package before my erection could show.

Scowling, I turned towards Paul. “No, I’m going home,” I said firmly. “I want to be alone,” I added, when he held up his hand, presumably to offer to join me.
I want to be with my wife
.
I want to go fuck my wife until she’s screaming, until her pussy is sore and red and swollen. I want to make her say my name over and over. I want to fill her mind with me until she can’t think of Silas ever again. I want her to be mine, all mine.

“Whatever you say, man,” Paul said with a grin. “You tell Tori I said hello.”

I didn’t reply. Jumping behind the wheel of my car, I shoved the key into the ignition and turned it on. The engine roared powerfully to life and I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal, gunning out of the parking lot before I could even exhale.

I’m coming home
, I thought, as if talking to Tori.
I’m coming home to take you, right now
.

Victoria

I swallowed nervously as I paced around in the kitchen. Danny was still watching TV—true to his word, he hadn’t gotten too drunk or passed out. He was keeping a close eye on the front door, and one of the times I’d checked on him, I saw him toying with a shiny gun that lay in his lap.

“Protection, Mrs. Adams,” Danny had said, holding the gun up. “I won’t hurt you, but we need to make sure that asshole can’t get in here.” He’d smiled at me. I couldn’t help but smile back; I
liked
Danny. He was the kind of guy who reminded me of a younger version of my father, before he got too stern and old.

“Thanks for staying here,” I said softly. “I’m sure you’ve got other things you want to be doing.”

Danny shook his head. “Protecting Max’s wife is exactly what I want to be doing,” he said with a grin. “That’s what being a Renegade Saint really means to me.”

He’d turned his attention back to the television before I could reply. Part of me was stunned; I knew there were accusations that Max had killed my father. Just how many members of the MC believed that?

“Would you like some dinner?” I asked, clearing my throat. “I was thinking of making a chicken.”

Danny turned to me. “Hey, yeah,” he replied. “That would be awesome, thank you.”

I nodded and turned back towards the kitchen. Since Max had left in the morning, I’d found myself struggling to find a purpose to my day. I’d done all that hunting and looked at photographs, but after I found the silver brush and mirror engraved
Talia
, I didn’t want to keep snooping. Since then, my stomach had twisted into knots every time I heard a car pass by the house. What if Max came home and he could tell what I’d been doing?

I swallowed hard as I dug through Max’s fridge. He had only the barest of bachelor essentials: condiments and no real food. There was one pack of chicken thighs frozen in the freezer that I set in a cool bowl of water to defrost, and not much else. With a sigh, I perched on top of the kitchen island and watched the frosty chicken slowly turn into recognizable shapes. It seemed like a good metaphor for my time here: sit and think about everything while something melted in front of my eyes.

I shuddered. I didn’t like being this alone. I wished that Max would come back soon. As nice as Danny was, he wasn’t the most intimidating of Max’s guys. He wasn’t the kind of man who could inspire fear with a single glance, like Max could do.

When the chicken was thawed, I put it in the oven with some olive oil and herbs. After a while, it started to smell mouthwateringly good. I hadn’t eaten since the day before and I was surprised to discover how hungry I was.
You need to keep up your strength
, I thought to myself.
In case Silas breaks in and you have to run
.

“Stop thinking about him,” I mumbled under my breath. “You know Max won’t let him anywhere near you.”

But my mind stayed glued to Silas. I wondered where he was, what he was doing. It wasn’t because I missed him or wanted to be with him; it was more a defense mechanism I’d come up with over the years. At first, when Silas and I had gotten together, I’d always missed him when we were apart. Even after the abuse started. But then, after a while, I’d started wondering about him when we were apart, so I knew where he was. So I knew which places to avoid if I didn’t want to wind up with a massive bruise on my face. I knew that if Silas was out at the bar, that meant trouble. He was an angry drunk, and he’d never go to sleep until he’d managed to beat me into a pulp first. If he was out at the store, that was bad, too. I knew that he’d come home and lecture me on the slutty way women dressed nowadays, followed by a raid of my closet that left all of my clothes in rips and tatters.

“I hate you,” I said under my breath. “I hate you for controlling me even when I want nothing to do with you. I hate for you ruling my life, even now!”

The timer dinged and I went to grab the chicken. By now, I was positively starving. I’d made the whole bag, and I wanted to set some aside for Max when he got home. I didn’t know much about what Max liked to eat, but part of me took pride in being a good wife.

As crazy and unrealistic as the situation was between us, part of me was starting to think that we really had a connection. I’d never been with someone who could read my mind as easily as Max could, someone who could thrill every inch of my body. Whenever Max looked at me, I felt like my insides were melting and turning into molten lava. He had an incredible effect on me—it was so strong that it almost frightened me. It was different than being with Silas, more primal. With Silas, I’d been overjoyed when he finally noticed me, and some of that excitement and anxiety carried over into actually dating him. But with Max, it was like we
had
to be together, we
had
to be touching, we
had
to be wrapped up around each other, in bed. With Max, it was like the rest of the world vanished around me.

“It’s just different,” I said softly, blushing when I realized I’d spoken the words aloud. Smiling to myself, I looked over the dinner that I’d made and I could feel my mouth watering.

I made two plates of food and carried one into the living room. Danny’s gaze was fixed to the television. He barely nodded at me when I set the plate down and padded off into the other room.

“Hey,” I called absentmindedly behind me. “When is Max coming home?”

Danny shrugged. “No idea,” he called back. “I don’t keep tabs on the guy.”

I laughed aloud. “So you’re just here until…whenever?”

I didn’t see Danny, but I could have imagined him shrugging. “He’s the boss,” Danny called back loudly. “I do what he says, when he says.”

“Dedicated,” I muttered under my breath. I still wasn’t used to this, this level of attention that was being paid to me. It was completely new, and almost kind of embarrassing. It reminded me when I’d been in my cousin’s wedding and we’d all gone to the salon together for manicures and pedicures. The salon attendants had fussed over us to the extreme degree, and I’d been uncomfortable with the attention. I wasn’t used to someone hovering over me and asking what I wanted to drink. But my cousin lapped it up, and after a while, she even started acting entitled, like she deserved everything they were doing for us. It had been embarrassing.

Now I wondered if I was acting the same way. Making dinner for Danny had been a nice gesture, but I wondered if he felt patronized.

I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter,” I said, trying to make myself feel better. “He’d be here whether or not you cooked.”

When I was done eating, I rinsed my plate and put the leftovers away. I would have left some out for Max, but the grease was already starting to congeal in the bottom of the pan. I had no idea when he was coming home, but I wanted him to have something appetizing.

He’ll be home by the time I’m done with the dishes
, I thought.
And he’ll laugh at me for wearing an apron and doing them all myself
. I hummed to myself as I slipped into the apron and found a pair of yellow rubber gloves under the sink. Max had a dishwasher, but it looked brand new, and I didn’t want to risk breaking it. I washed the dishes one by one, methodically soaping and wiping each dish until it was gleaming. When I turned around, I expected Max to be standing right behind me.

But no one was there. I pouted for a moment as I pulled off the apron and tucked it back into the pantry. It was getting dark; Max had been gone all day. I wondered what he’d gotten up to. A small pulse of jealousy ran through me, and part of me wondered if he’d been out with another woman.

“Haven’t even been married for a week and he’s already stepping out on me,” I said under my breath. But as much as I tried to believe it, as much as I tried to sensationalize the events, I couldn’t make myself panic. Deep down I knew that Max cared about me, and that he was going to protect me. Sure I might get on his nerves sometimes, but that wouldn’t be enough to break every promise he’d made me.

It struck me as almost hysterical that I was already counting on Max for so much when we’d known each other for so little.

I decided to go lay down in bed for a while, maybe take a nap. Max would probably wake me up when he came in, and I was feeling tired after a long day of doing nothing. My lids were surprisingly heavy, and I found myself yawning as I closed the door to Max’s room and slipped out of my jeans. The sheets were cool and crisp, and before long, my eyes were closed and I was slipping off into a quiet, thin sleep.

A thought jolted me awake.
What if Max comes home and he’s pissed off that you’re in his bed?
Frowning, I bolted up and wiped the crumbs of sleep from my eyes. I knew it was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help feeling paranoid—nighttime was always when my anxiety acted up. I turned on the lights, then got out of bed and straightened the covers up. When I was satisfied that the room looked untouched, I crept down the hall into “my” room, the room I’d slept in the night before we got married.

After being in Max’s room, my room seemed Spartan and unimaginative. I shivered at an imaginary breeze before crawling into bed and turning out the lights. In the dark, I was able to finally relax. I did deep breathing exercises as I pulled the sheets over my body and crawled onto my side, snuggling my head under a pillow. For the first time in hours, I finally felt safe again. There was no way Silas could find me here.

I was almost asleep when I heard something soft, like footsteps in the room. Even though part of my brain was barking at me to wake up, I stayed snuggled under the covers. I was barely aware of strong hands grabbing me and pulling me out of bed. I opened my eyes and realized it was Max. His strong chest felt warm against my body even though I was cold from being taken out of bed, and he smelled absolutely delicious.

I yawned as Max carried me down the hallway. “Where have you been?” I asked groggily.

There was no answer. Max slammed his bedroom door closed behind us and dropped me on the bed. Before I could move, he reached down and grabbed my panties, yanking them down my legs and tossing them away. Max growled as he grabbed both of my wrists with one hand and pinned my arms over my head.

“Victoria,” Max whispered in a ragged voice. “I need you.”

I closed my eyes as Max trailed his face down my body. His rough stubble scratched my neck and I shivered as his hands slipped up my shirt and pulled it over my head. The air felt cool on my skin and I shivered again, moaning softly as Max pinched and caressed both of my nipples.

The room was mostly dark, but I was glad so that Max couldn’t see my blushing. His features blended together, aside from the two black holes where his eyes were. I couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t tell if he was pleased or pissed off. He growled as he slipped a hand between my legs and slapped my thighs.

“Keep these apart,” Max growled. I shivered at his commanding voice and strained my muscles, trying to keep my legs spread. Max got down on his knees and nuzzled my chest. I gasped when he took one of my swollen nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking until I was practically crying with pleasure. My whole body felt electrified, like Max had hooked me up to a power outlet and turned me on. In his skilled, capable hands I felt more pleasured than I ever had in my entire life.

I closed my eyes as Max’s warm, wet tongue slid around on my belly. The feeling made me shiver all around, and I moaned softly as his fingers played with the delicate skin on the insides of my thighs. Every time he touched me was as exciting as the first, and I couldn’t wait to see where this would lead. Max made me so hot, so excited, that I could barely think about anything other than fucking him. I wanted him all the time, I wanted him as deep and intimate as I could have him.

“Victoria,” Max grunted as he slid a finger inside my soaking pussy. “Victoria, I need you!” I gasped as he wriggled his finger inside of me. I could feel how wet I was; soaking the sheet underneath me, coating Max’s hand with my juices. As he rubbed gently on the tender spot of the front wall of my pussy, I felt my whole body convulse with amazing pleasure.

“Max,” I moaned softly. “Max, please!”

I could have sworn I saw Max grinning then. He slipped another finger inside of me and lowered his head to my breast, kissing and licking at my nipples. The feeling was raw, exquisite, and I wanted to keep going forever. I never wanted Max to stop pleasuring me, I wanted to stay in bed with him forever. As his third finger inched inside of me, I gasped. I felt stretched open and exposed, like Max could see everything inside of me at once. I felt like he could read my mind.