Jax's Dilemma:Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 2) (10 page)

She stroked his back until his breathing came back to normal before he kissed her, rolled off, and nestled her against his side. Lying with her leg flung over his, her arm around his waist and her head on his chest, she heard his heart beat. Sunlight bathed them as Jax ran his fingers through Cherri’s tousled hair. In the distance, the sound of a freight train’s whistle echoed.

“That was fuckin’ awesome, sweetness,” Jax said as he lifted her chin up toward his face. He bent down, and with a tenderness she had never experienced from a man, he kissed her; first on her eyes, her cheeks then her mouth—soft, gentle kissing that made her toes curl and her stomach coil. Affection spread through her, and she realized that, for the first time in a very long time, she felt safe, cherished, and happy.

“You’re mine now, sweetness. You belong to me, understand?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing to say; I’m just telling you like it is. You’re mine. I’m claiming you. No more of that Gunner bullshit, got it? You’re mine.”

“Gunner…? I never had anything with him. I just did a dance for him.”

“No more dances for any of the brothers—or any guy, for that matter. I’ll take care of you now.”

“What about Peaches? I thought you guys were together.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’s a nice bitch and all, but sugar, my eyes have been on you since I first saw you. You pushed me away, but it’s always been you I’ve wanted. You do something to me.”

A flush of adrenaline tingled through her body as giddiness built inside her. Cherri nuzzled into the crook of his arm and said against his skin, “Right now, everything seems so simple when yesterday it seemed so complicated.”

“Yesterday is gone. Today is the beginning for us.” He squeezed her closer to him.

The minutes ticked away and Cherri felt her eyelids grow heavy. She loved being in Jax’s strong arms. Why had she wasted so much time fighting him? Being with him in that moment seemed perfect, like she had found someone she could begin to trust with her secrets. She was falling for this rough biker who had an unexpected gentle side to him—one she was sure few people ever saw.

His phone startled her out of her reverie. Jax grabbed it from the nightstand. “Hey, what’s up?” His body tensed as he listened to the caller on the other end of the receiver. He sat up and ran his hand through his hair, his face paling. “Don’t do anything stupid. Calm down. I’m coming over now. Just calm down and wait for me.”

He rolled out of bed and grabbed his jeans from the floor, pulling them up as he searched for his boots. Throwing his cut on over his t-shirt, he glanced at Cherri as he walked toward the door. “Gotta go.”

“What? Where? What’s going on?”

“This doesn’t concern you, Cherri. I’ll call you later.”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Her eyes searched his face.

“Like I said, I gotta go. Later.”

After he walked out of the room, he left the door open and headed for the stairway. Cherri sat dumbfounded as she watched him descend the stairs. The front door slammed shut, and the rumble of his bike vibrated in her ears. She lay in bed listening to his engine until she couldn’t hear it anymore.
What the fuck just happened? We just made awesome love, he told me I was his, he got a phone call, and he abandoned me without even a goodbye kiss or any goddamned explanation?
The rush of blood to her head made her dizzy as the fire from her building anger began to consume her. Behind her eyelids, hot tears formed.
That fucker!

Her breathing became shallow as she grew rigid. She forced herself to calm down, to think rationally. There had to be a reason for him taking off with only a glance at her.
It’s probably club business. I know they’re all psycho about telling anyone who’s not in the club what’s going on. Maybe I’m just overreacting.

Cherri curled up on the bed as an empty darkness weaved its way inside her. A dull ache replaced the anger; she had a sick feeling. She wanted to go away, far away. She wanted to be the girl in the Norman Rockwell print, the one who was always smiling.

Nothing bad ever happens to her.

A
s the time
faded away, Cherri noticed the stillness of the room—it was stifling. She wanted to get out of the house, go somewhere. Since the Insurgents had brought her to Pinewood Springs a few months before, she had only danced and slept. She kept to herself a lot, and she hadn’t made friends with any of the other dancers. She didn’t know anyone outside of Dream House or the Insurgents; her life revolved around the club’s world. The only place she could think of going was Dream House. She had a ton of paperwork to catch up on, so even though it was her day off, she decided to do some work at the strip club. Keeping the club’s books and being in charge of the dancers was more than a full-time job. She freshened up and headed to Dream House.

“Hey, Cherri, I thought it was your day off,” Holt said as she entered the club.

“Supposed to be, but the ton of paperwork on my desk was eating at me, so I decided to do some catch-up. How’s business?”

“Slow, but Wednesday afternoons are always the slowest for the club. Want a drink?”

“No, I’m good.” She watched the stripper on stage. “Chloe looks like she’s sleepwalking up there.”

“She’s got the flu, or something.” Seeing Cherri’s eyebrows go up, Holt continued, “She needs the money real bad, so she dragged her ass in here.”

“With that dancing, she’s not gonna get shit for tips. She should’ve just stayed home. Gotta get crackin’,” she said as she walked toward the office behind the stage.

Looking at the stack of receipts, invoices, time sheets, and inventory lists, Cherri pulled her hair back into a messy bun then sat behind the desk, determined to make some headway in catching up. She was glad it was a slow, quiet day. As she started to work, she heard indistinguishable voices, then soft moaning coming from the backstage area. She strained to hear, to make sure it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. No, definite moans were coming from the dressing room area.

I hope one of the dancers isn’t turning a trick. Fuck, can’t anything be smooth?
From time to time, some of the dancers would turn tricks in their dressing rooms to make some extra money on slow shifts, but it wasn’t allowed on Insurgents’ time. The MC turned a blind eye if a dancer was tricking in her spare time, but during work hours, it was reason for termination. Cherri hoped she didn’t have to can someone.

She approached the closed dressing room door, pausing to listen. She heard high-pitched groans; it was a woman moaning. Placing her hand on the doorknob, she turned it as she heard a low, male voice. Something rang familiar in the man’s hushed tones. Opening the door, she saw Peaches straddling Jax who was seated on the leather couch. Peaches’ tits bounced while her ass wiggled on Jax’s hardened cock.

Bolts of shock shot through her body as dampness covered her cheeks. Her mouth hung open and she gasped.

Peaches turned around, her tits smooshed against Jax’s face. She smiled wickedly.

Jax stared at Cherri, panic etched on his face, and said, “No, Cherri, this isn’t what you think.” He peeled Peaches off him. Cherri whipped around and ran out of the room with Jax at her heels. He grabbed her arm, swinging her around.

“Stop! Let me explain. This isn’t what you think.”

“It is
exactly
what I think. I was a fucking fool to let you into my heart. You’re worse than
any
of the other guys because you pretend to care. All that gentle shit you fed me was just a trick to get into my pants, you sonofabitch! You’re the worst! I hate you! Get the fuck outta my life and
stay out
. Fuck you, asshole!”

Cherri, breaking away from his grasp, ran out of the bar into the bright sunlight. Bleary-eyed from unshed tears, she managed to get in the car she borrowed from her roommate. Jax rushed over toward her, screaming, “Dammit, Cherri, just stop! I have to talk to you. Stop!”

She threw the car in drive and screeched out of the parking lot. She had no intention of speaking with him ever again. There was nothing to explain; he’d used her and treated her just like a hoodrat or a club mama. He didn’t care shit for her; he just wanted to fuck her.
How could I have been so stupid? I will
never
forgive him. Ever. I will make him pay for what he did to me.

The whole drive home, her phone rang and pinged. When she got to her place, Cherri sprinted up the stairs, closed her bedroom door, and flopped on her bed. Looking at the ringing phone, Jax’s number blinked.
It’s a little too late, asshole
. She turned off her phone and buried her head in her pillow as sobs overtook her body, tears streaming down her face. She hated the way men used women, and she swore she’d go back to not letting any man mean anything to her ever again.

*     *     *

Jax, face tight,
eyes burning, went back into Dream House. “Gimme a shot,” he said to Holt.

Holt placed a shot of whiskey in front of Jax, a knowing look on his face.

“Why the fuck are you lookin’ at me like that, asshole?” Jax growled.

“Hey, man, your fight ain’t with me. I’m just mindin’ my own business.” Holt wiped the bar with his rag.

“Just don’t fuckin’ look at me and I won’t have to beat your ass, got it? Gimme another.”

Holt nodded and placed another shot in front of Jax, who was radiating anger. Peaches, finally dressed, came up to him and wound her arms around him. She kissed him on the neck, murmuring, “How come you didn’t come back?”

He pushed her away. “You fuckin’ set me up, you dirty slut!”

Peaches, wide-eyed, protested, “I didn’t do that. I needed you here—I was desperate. I was gonna kill myself.”

“Like hell you were. You called me and said you and Emma had a fight and she was throwing you out. You fuckin’ told me you had a gun to your head and you were gonna off yourself. You cried on the phone, made me think if I didn’t come, your suicide would be my fault somehow. You lying cunt!”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Where’s Emma, then?”

“She left right before you came.”

Turning his head sideways, he said, “Is that right, Holt?”

Holt shook his head. Peaches glared at him.

“Has Emma been here today, Holt?” Jax asked.

“She came for an hour, but had to do something with her old man. She left me in charge for a few hours.”

Jax gripped Peaches’ arm roughly, his fingers turning white from his grasp. “Listen to me, bitch. You fuckin’ set me up, and I wanna know why.”

“I love you; that’s why. I’m the one who’s here for you any time. I want to be your old lady. I’ve been good to you.” Hardness laced her blue eyes.

Jax relaxed his grip on her arm and ran his hand through his hair. “Peaches, you’ve been good to me. You’re a great fuck, and you’re always available when I need you, but I’m not looking for an old lady. I’m sorry you fell in love with me. I made it clear to you we were just fuckin’ and nothing more.” He paused and looked her straight in the eyes. “There’s only one woman who has my heart, and that’s Cherri. I was gonna tell you later tonight that our fuckin’ has to stop ’cause I’m with her. I wanted to—”

“She certainly didn’t look or sound like she wanted to be with you, Jax. How could you want that icy bitch over me?”

“You made a fuckin’ mess with me and Cherri, something I gotta fix, but don’t be sticking your nose into my business anymore. You got that?”

“If you think I’m just gonna let some skank take my man, you’re crazy. I’m gonna fight for you, honey, all the way.” She clasped her hand on his denim-covered thigh and stroked it.

“It’s over, Peaches. That’s the way it is.” Jax moved her hand off him then pushed her back a little. “I’m outta here.” He turned to leave.

“Waiting for that icy bitch to melt is gonna take time. I’ll be here when you get lonely and tired of waiting.”

Jax snorted, turned his back on Peaches, and walked out of the strip bar with his phone to his ear, hoping Cherri would pick up. Swinging his leg over his Harley, he revved it up and took off, his heart heavy.

Fifteen minutes later, he was at her front door. “Cherri, I know you’re in there,” he said as he pounded on the door. “Open the fuck up!”

Silence. He pounded again, this time kicking the door. He heard the crackle of splintered wood. “Fuck, do I have to break down the goddamned door?”

Silence. Pissed as hell, he called her again.
Hi, this is Cherri. Leave a message.

He growled in frustration then threw his phone against the front door, broken pieces exploding around him. He stomped on the broken phone until it was a pile of parts. “Fuck!” He jumped off the porch and onto his bike, riding away as his exhausts ripped through the quietness of the neighborhood.

Walking into the clubhouse, he motioned to Johnnie to give him a shot. Sitting at the bar, Jax downed the whiskey, enjoying the way it burned and warmed his throat at the same time.

Hawk came over and clasped his hand on Jax’s shoulder. “I tried calling you.”

“My phone broke.” Jax poured another shot down his throat.

“How’d that happen?”