Ink (The Haven Series) (35 page)

She’d given up.

A stray tear seemed to follow the course of his knife as she stared up at him, the blade pressing over her pulse point and continuing past her collarbone. Behind them, no one dared move. Or breathe, it seemed.

“Got something
to say?” Sam asked hoarsely. Maybe she was sorry, maybe they were wrong, maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe, just maybe, there was something she could say to end this some other way. Any other way.

Those brown eyes shone with tears, but she held her head high and, for a second, he swore he saw the ghost of that knowing little smile.

“Fuck you, Sam,” Taylor said softly, even as the blade came to rest directly over her heart. The pressure was slowly increasing until she couldn’t help but gasp. “Fuck you.”

His sharp blue eyes closed for just a second and then he was staring down at her, steeled for what was to come.

“You already did, darlin’.”

***

Only at the sound of Colton’s voice did Callie answer his rap on the door and, even then, he found himself on the business end of the spare piece he kept in a drawer beside his bed. But the enforcer only nodded in approval as he backed her into the room, reaching for her and sliding a hand down her arm to liberate the weapon.

“S’okay,” he mumbled against the little blonde’s lips, lifting her up to meet his kiss with one strong arm banded low around her waist. “False alarm.”

Her forehead coming to rest against his, he felt her sag against him in obvious relief and tossed the gun on the bed so he could slide both hands to her ass and carry her easily to set her on top of his chest of drawers.

“So it wasn’t ... they didn’t come back? Whoever shot up the clubhouse?” she asked, when he was stood between her legs with his hands braced on her knees.

Colton shook his head. “Nah, baby girl. Those bastards ain’t got the balls to come back now we’re ready for ‘em. This shit’s ... domestic.”

Callie raised an eyebrow at that, obviously curious and wondering if she should push further. He didn’t make her wonder long.

“Some prick thinks Sam has been dipping his dick where he shouldn’t have been – he’s out there trying to defend what little pride he’s got left with a baseball bat and fuck all else.”

The look on the tattooist’s face actually drew a bark of laughter from Colton and he cupped the back of her head to pull her in for another kiss. But she pushed him back with gentle hands on his chest and confusion on her face. “And what? You just left them to it?”

“Ain’t gonna take long to resolve,” Colton shrugged. He didn’t bother filling her in on how they’d step up their investigation into their lawyer and start the search for a replacement, just in case. That was club business. It didn’t concern her. “Sam’ll take the bat off him and, if the poor bastard’s lucky, he won’t get it shoved up his ass. Done.”

She shook her head, obviously bemused. “And you didn’t want to stay and watch?”

“Didn’t want you stuck in here thinking shit was going down again.”

“Aww, so sweet,” Callie said wryly, laughing at the dark glare she got just before he tugged her legs around his waist and crashed his lips against hers.

“I’ll show ya fuckin’ sweet ...” he growled, relishing the whimper she made when his tongue plundered her mouth.

***

Breathing hard, more through anger than exertion, Sam finally ran right out of patience and ripped the baseball bat straight from the hands of the club’s bedraggled lawyer. He towered over him and brought the end of the bat under his chin to force his head up, the eyes that met his full of naked resentment.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t knock your fucking head clean off,” the sergeant demanded, wiping blood from his split lip with his free hand. Michael didn’t have his brute strength, build or combat skills, but his sheer desperation and recklessness had made him an unpredictable opponent – at least until Sam had sent them both crashing through a bar table to cheers from the
guys who had gathered to watch. That had taken a lot of wind out of the lawyer’s sails.

“I’m not the one in the wrong here,” Michael choked out, an arm wrapped around his probably cracked ribs. “I have a right to ... to defend what’s m-mine ...”

“You wanna tell me who the fuck this broad is then?” Sam demanded, unsure why he was even wasting time talking. “Because that pussy sure as hell must be somethin’ pretty special to get your panties in such a twist!”

“Shoulda known you w-wouldn’t understand. She don’t mean shit to you. I gave that girl everything!” Michael said, struggling to his feet and swaying there weakly. “What future would she have with violent trash like you? What future would any girl have with
you
?”

Even if he hadn’t been good at reading people, the lawyer should have known he’d hit a nerve from the dangerous way those blue eyes narrowed. But right then, something caught the corner of his eye and he turned sharply, stumbling when his ribs protested.

When her name was ripped from his lips, it was half muffled by the groan of pain – yet even that didn’t stop the shocked little blonde from stopping dead in her tracks.

“Michael!” came Callie’s shocked gasp, even as her ex took in the arm thrown over her shoulders and looked from Sam to Colton in utter disbelief before hanging his head and starting to laugh.

“You goddamn
whore
...”

***

CHAPTER 40

Still riding high on the adrenaline rush from his impromptu brawl with the club lawyer, Sam couldn’t seem to stop pacing the yard as he exhaled clouds of cigarette smoke mixed with dark muttered curses of disbelief.

“I just don’t fucking get it, man,” he broke off to declare, not for the first time. “Someone explain to me how the fuck a pussy like that gets chicks as hot as Callie!”

“Pussy attracts pussy,” Colton shrugged humourlessly
, from where he was leaning against the wall of the clubhouse to watch his brother with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. Mostly in case the urge to start snapping necks got too strong to resist.

He wasn’t quite sure what pissed him off more. The notion of betrayal
, or the whole damn club knowing his business; hearing that bastard brand the girl a whore, or thinking about him ever getting his sleazy lawyer hands on her in the first place. Even in his pockets, his fists clenched a little tighter and he longed to gut Corsada like a fish. Thought he still might.

Stomping out his cigarette with a little more force than necessary, Sam finally dropped down on top of the nearby picnic bench and wiped his hands over his face, wincing as he gave his wounded lip an exploratory poke.

“Where you at with this, bro?”

“Hell if I know. Could be you and Taylor all over again ...” Colton said eventually, his voice a low growl.

The troubled look on the sergeant’s face said the thought had crossed his mind too, but he shook his head slowly and raked a hand through the blonde spikes of his hair.

“Nah, man. Callie ... she ain’t Taylor,” Sam sighed. “I can’t deny that chick got in my head and
,
damn
, she knew how to push all the right buttons between the sheets, but deep down ... I guess I always knew I was kidding myself. I loved the thought of her – Fallen through and through. But something just wouldn’t let me trust her. Don’t get me wrong, I never thought she had it in her to do what she did, but I still knew that girl was trouble.”

Co
lton processed that in silence.

He was 100% committed to the club and all its members, but Sam had long since been that little bit more his brother than most of the others and Colton knew the sergeant was a pretty good judge of character. He’d never even thought to hold the Taylor thing over his head. None of them had. That was just too big a mind-fuck for anyone to have seen coming, even Sam. Especially Sam.

And then there was Callie. She was everything they weren’t – calm and considerate, with a cool head and quiet confidence. Plus she was sharp, forthright, tougher than she looked ... and damn it all if she didn’t have him twisted up inside with those fucking doe eyes.

“Do you trust her, Colt?” Sam asked, the question blunt. Getting right down to it. “Forget the
what ifs
and the
maybes
and all that other shit. Forget about that lawyer prick and Taylor and even Will. Do you trust
Callie
?”

Colton opened his mouth to speak.

“Uh, guys? Pres wants to see you. Both of you,” Chip called hesitantly from the door of the clubhouse, moving aside to let someone past.

“Where the hell you think you’re going?” Colton demanded, sizing up the little blonde and the unreadable expression on her face as she headed towards her car.

“Ask Will.”

***

“Before you ask, I sent the bitch home,” Will said, in that tone his men recognised as the calm before one motherfucking hell of a storm. “We got shit to discuss.”

“Where’s Corsada?” Sam said, moving quickly to interrupt in response to the darkening look on Colton’s face.

“Got one of the prospects taking his ass back to wherever it came and dumping him there. Then he’s keeping on his tail. I wanna know that bastard’s every move ...”

“And Callie? You got a patch on her too?” Colton demanded.

“Damn right,” Will said, lifting his chin as if daring either one of his men to defy him. That storm was brewing. “Seriously, you expect me to believe it’s a damn coincidence that you’ve been screwing the chick who just happens to have been screwing our club lawyer, who just happens to have been screwing a goddamn fed? Hey, we ain’t done here ...”

“I am.”

And with that Colton was already halfway out the door, leaving Sam to fire-fight as their president’s already soaring temper sky-rocketed past the point of no return.

***

The drive home was a blur, her mind a million miles from her body and not wanting to come down any time soon. But its racing was nothing compared to the pounding of her heart when, two hours later, she was startled from her thoughts by the impatient slamming of an open palm on her apartment door. She half thought finding Colton standing there, stony-faced, might actually send her heart bursting out of her chest.

She took a deep breath and let him in without a word. It was either that or let him kick the door in.

Callie watched the biker push past her and stride into the centre of her living room to stand there, arms crossed over his chest and an expectant look levelled at her.

“You knew I was seeing someone,” she offered for starters.

“Don’t play dumb, it don’t suit you,” Colton all but snarled. “The club’s lawyer? The fuck were you thinking? Got some kinda fucked up daddy complex going on in that head?”

“That’s what this is about?” she gaped at him, ignoring the jibes as everything finally clicked into place. And there she was thinking Will had been pissed because he’d assumed she was screwing around behind the back of one of his brothers. “Colton, I swear I didn’t even know! Michael never discussed his clients with me and I had no reason to ask questions. Why would I-- Oh. Oh, I get it. Jesus Christ, did Will send you?”

Dark eyes fixed on the pale little blonde who’d dug herself a place under his skin, Colton reached for the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans and watched her gray eyes widen in shock.

As he took a step towards her, Callie’s breathing hitched and terrified tears welled up, the harsh reality of it all hitting her hard and fast. She wanted to cry out, to plead, but she wasn’t sure any sound would even come out if she opened her mouth. Besides, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. And, judging by the way her stomach was knotting, she might just throw up.

Certain her legs were going to give up trying to hold her up, she squeezed her eyes closed and prayed it would at least be quick. The Fallen's killer wasn’t known for his mercy.

A breathless gasp escaped as she all but jumped out of her skin at the feel of cold steel. But it wasn’t jammed against her temple, like she was expecting. Instead, it was pressing into her shaking fingers and, when she dared to crack an eye open, Colton was on his knees in front of her.

A hand closed tight around her wrist and roughly guided her hand so the barrel found his own head.

“You ain’t ever given me reason to doubt you, little girl,” he ground out, lifting his eyes to meet hers. Unflinching. “If you’re thinking about screwing over my club, you might as well start with me.”

He had a hell of a way of making a point. And if she wasn’t so thoroughly ready to fall apart, she might have cracked him round the head with the bloody gun. As it was, it fell from her hand and the tears that had been threatening started to slip down her cheeks as he slowly shifted to rest his forehead against her stomach.

“Wh-What about Will?” she managed, as his fingers came up to graze her hips.

“I trust you, darlin’,” Colton said finally. “With my life. Gotta trust me with yours.”

***

CHAPTER 41

“... so I’m thinking of just selling the kids to make ends meet.”

“Uh-huh ...” Sketch nodded absently, phone clamped to his ear with his shoulder as he doodled on a scrap piece of paper. “Hang on, say what?”