The Last Betrayal (12 page)

Fuck. Lauren showing that whore who was the boss was hot as hell. Hot damn, I never knew she was that feisty. She just made my dick rock solid. I love how she took control, how she treated me like I was her fucking possession. Shit, just thinking about it makes me want to come in my pants. I bite the inside of my cheek to try and control myself as I watch her slinging back the shots with Alexis.

“Man, that was hot,” I hear Dope say from behind me. “You got your hands full with that one, brother.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. That girl makes me harder than a lamp post,” I reply, turning toward Dope with a goofy grin on my face.

“You’re going to have to keep her on a tight leash if she’s coming to London,” Dope says, shaking his head from side to side.

“And why’s that?” I scowl at him.

“Dude, she’s smokin’ hot! Those British guys are going to want her.” He laughs loudly while clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Shut up. She’ll be wearing my cut, and no one will go near her. Plus, prospects will be following them wherever they go. We don’t know yet what shit our British chapter have gotten into.” Which is irritating the hell out of me, I think to myself.

“Cool, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. Turn that frown upside down, brother.” Dope laughs.

“Fuck off.” I walk away from him laughing like a hyena. The man can be so childish sometimes.

“Champ?”

I look around, searching for the person who called my name. My eyes land on the Prez a few feet away, and I walk toward him with long strides. By the look on his face, this can’t be good.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I say when I come to a halt in front of him.

“I know now the moajority of what’s happening over in England. I just had a manic call from one of the brother’s over there. Come to my office.” With that, he turns and walks down the hallway toward his office. I look over to Cobra who is just a few feet from me and a silent message is conveyed between us. We walk quickly to the Prez’s office, a few seconds later we’re knocking on the door and entering.

When we’re both seated, the Prez scrubs a hand up and down his stubble covered face, concern etched into his features, making my stomach knot.

“What’s going on, Prez?” I ask, unable to hold in my curiosity or worry.

“Seems the Crusaders in Britain have gotten themselves into shit that’s going to be hell getting out of. We’ll be leaving in the morning.” I see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he takes a hard swallow.

“What’s going on?” My curiosity winning out. The worrying knot in my stomach growing with each passing minute.

“They’ve been dealing drugs in the wrong territory. It seems a turf war has broken out. An Old Lady has been killed.”

“Shit,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over the back on my neck. What the fuck is wrong with them? They have orders to only deal the drugs in the neighborhood that they rule. How can they be so fucking mind blowingly stupid? My fists clench and unclench as the anger within me swirls like a tornado through my body.

“Yeah, shit.” Prez lays his head on his folded arms upon his desk. He doesn’t usually worry about shit. I can tell by his sketchy movements and the way he won’t look me in the eyes that there’s more.

“You’re not telling us everything, Prez. I’m not a fucking idiot.” I blow out a frustrated breath as I wait for him to look at me or to say something, anything. Fuck, this is bad. I look over to Cobra next to me and see the worry lines on his forehead.

“I can’t tell you everything. You’ll find out when we get over there. Sooner rather than later,” Prez says through clenched teeth. He’s pissed and in turn that makes me fucking angry, frustrated.

“Fine. This conversation is fucking over then.” I stand from my chair and briskly walk over to the door.

Before I open it to walk out, I turn my head back to him. “You should get your priorities checked out, old man. Telling us everything should be first on your list. You’re leading us into unknown fucking danger. You could kill us all.” With that, I walk out the door, slamming it shut behind me.

Too fucking angry to return to the party in the main room, I head to our in-house gym. I need to punch the shit out of the punching bag before I hit someone.

Walking into the empty room, I quickly wrap my hands and take long purposeful strides to the bag in the centre of the room.

I growl as I take the first punch, jabbing the bag hard. Left jab, right jab. I keep going until my body is covered in sweat. I stop once it starts dripping in my eyes, distracting my focus. I slide down to the floor, breathing hard.

Not feeling much better than I did before I came in here, I stand and head to the shower room in the corner.

Its official, I’m completely wasted. Not wasted in a sense that I can’t walk or talk, yet, but in a sense that I feel happy, numb and absolutely crazy. I think me, Alexis, Kristine, Rhonda and some of the club whores have been dancing on the stage for about an hour, and we show no signs of letting up anytime soon either. Most of the Crusader’s MC Brothers have ventured outside after we told the in house DJ to put some of our kind of music on. Not that I blame them. I don’t think you can class The Village People and Taylor Swift manly or biker like. But, fuck, this is the best time I’ve had in a long while.

“It’s like clubbing without all the creeps!” I shout out to Alexis over the music, swaying my hips in time with the beat.

“Are you sure about that? You know what some of these men are like. Some are just as sleazy as the ones in the clubs!” she shouts back at me.

She has a point. Though none of them are allowed to look, touch or even smell Old Ladies in the wrong way; they still do with the club whores. Some of the men are old enough to be their dads. I grimace just thinking about it.

In need of another drink, I grab Alexis’ hand and pull her off the stage with me, indicating the bar as my destination. I bounce my way to the bar’s edge and signal with waving arms to the prospect for a couple of shots.

Placing them in front of us, the prospect gives us a smile and a shake of his head as he stalks off to serve someone else.

“Bottoms up!” I shout, downing the shot, I relish the burn as it trails down my throat, heating my blood more than it already has been.

“Fuck!” Alexis shouts, slamming the glass down on the bar and shaking her head from side to side. “That shit will never get easier. Gross.”

I laugh at her before calling the prospect back over for some normal drinks. Once we have them in hand, we head back to the stage to continue dancing.

“Have you seen Champ?” I ask Alexis, eyeing the room in search of him.

“No, probably outside with the rest of the guys who think they’re too manly for a bit of pop music,” she laughs, looking pointedly at the glass doors.

I snort, I swear this girl gets more hilarious as the night goes on, maybe that’s because we’ve consumed stupid amounts of alcohol, and her filter disappears when she’s been drinking.

As “Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus blasts through the speakers, the girls and I scream out in appreciation for the song. Alexis and I used to dance around her living room with this blaring through her sound system when the song first came out, we now have our own dance moves to accommodate the song.

We soon have everyone cheering, hollering and whooping at our ridiculous moves and high pitched singing. When the song finally ends, we take a bow to everyone clapping and laughing. Whether they’re laughing with us or at us is a different matter entirely, not that we’re really bothered.

“Hey, we should have karaoke one night,” I say to Kristine in her ear as we shuffle around through the next song. “Would be so much fun!”

“I would love to see the guys doing that. I’ll speak to Prez about it, I’m sure I can ruffle his feathers enough to agree.” She throws a wink my way before waltzing off the stage and to the bar.

Looking around the room, I still see no sign of Champ, even though most of the guys have come back inside to escape the drizzle that is now falling outside. Worry starts to take place in the pit of my stomach and has me absentmindedly chewing at my bottom lip.

“Everything okay, chick?” Alexis asks me, placing a hand on my forearm, a quizzical look in her eye.

“Yeah, just wondering where the hell Champ is. Most of the guys have come back inside, despite the music.” Still chewing my lip, I take another sweeping look across the room. Nope, definitely no Champ, even if I am seeing double of everything.

“He’ll be fine. Come, Kristine brought over another round of drinks.” She pulls me toward the side of the stage where Kristine has placed a tray of shots and glasses full of God knows what.

“Two shots each, girls, and any drink of your choosing, but I’m not telling what’s in any of them.” A sly smirk crosses her face as we all crinkle our faces at the possibility of what the drinks could be. Screw it. I slug back my two shots and randomly grab a glass that looks like brown lemonade.

Taking a healthy swig back, my face screws up as the burn of the Amaretto trails down my throat. A full body shiver takes over me as it settles in my stomach. Disgusting.

“Ugh!” I shout out, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I hate Amaretto.”

All the girls laugh at me waving my arms about while my face screws up tightly.

“Unlucky!” Alexis snorts, tilting her head back and draining her drink. “Vodka.”

I hold my nose between two fingers and pour the remainder of my drink into my mouth. This time the burn isn’t so bad; thanks to the previous swallow numbing my throat.

Jason Derulo’s “Want To Want Me” comes on over the speakers, and we all scramble about, placing glasses anywhere we can. This song is my jam. One of my all-time favorites.

Singing the words out loud, I swivel my hips from side to side while waving my arms in the air like a lunatic.

We dance for the next few songs before deciding our feet need a rest. We climb off the stage, heading for the patio doors for a little fresh air when a hand clamps around my arm. Turning my head slightly, I give whoever it is a powerful scowl before realizing it’s Champ.

“Where the hell have you been, handsome?” I demand, turning to face him fully and placing my hands on my hips.

“Gym. Needed to let off some steam. Having a good night?” he asks, trying hard not to laugh at me.

“What’s so funny?” I screech at him, irritation flaring through my body.

“You’re pretty drunk, aren’t you?” He bites his bottom lip, fighting to keep his laughter in.

“Maybe. It’s called having fun with friends. You should try it sometime,” I scoff at him, shrugging out of his hold and continuing my journey to the backyard.

Breathing in a lungful of clean air, I close my eyes and relish the rain hitting my face, effectively cooling me down.

“Why are you in such a shitty mood, Lauren?” Champ says from behind me, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Because you disappeared, and I didn’t have a clue where you were, no one did. After what happened with that whore, what do you expect me to think?” I tug at my hair, frustrated with this conversation.

“Firstly, I’m not gonna cheat on you, Lauren, so get that thought out of your head right now. Secondly, do not speak to me like the way you just did in front of the Crusaders Brothers again,” he tells me with stern look on his face.