Authors: Shay Mara
Christ, if she kept this shit up, he’d start getting a complex about constantly being outsmarted by a fucking female. He seemed to keep forgetting that Liv didn’t fit a mold he was familiar with—she wasn’t reckless or dumber than a bag of rocks. Hell, she wasn’t even emotional. Not a single tear had been shed as she talked about being beaten, raped, and slitting a man’s throat. And she was right, pulling a Rambo move would only make shit worse. Not to mention, she’d probably fucking bounce to spare them the trouble, which wasn’t a goddamn option.
But she’d also hit the nail on the head when it came to the rules. Technically, she was no more than a friend of the club and someone he was fucking. He couldn’t even say they were some kind of couple, because she’d made it damn clear that they weren’t. What the hell was a man to do here? Force her into a relationship? Good fucking luck to whoever tried to do that. And even if Torch didn’t care about getting kicked in the nuts, he’d
just
found out that he didn’t really even known her. He was at a fucking impasse. He needed time to process, to think.
Actually, he didn’t have to think about the fact that he was pissed the fuck off. At her, at himself, at fucking life. The boys had been uncharacteristically quiet, probably because they didn’t know what to say either.
“I need to talk to you. Alone,” he grumbled.
She looked around and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
He led her back to his room and closed the door behind them.
“Torch—”
“Shut up.”
He couldn’t let her finish whatever the fuck she was going to say, there
was
a choice he could make right the fuck now, and shaking the shit out of her came in a distant second to tasting that sweet and smart mouth. He pulled her in and grabbed her head, bringing their lips together in a way that he honestly couldn’t imagine giving up again. When he finally tore himself away, those missing tears finally made an appearance in the corners of her eyes.
“How the fuck did you expect this to play out, Liv?” he asked, still gripping her head between his palms. “Did you think you could turn me inside out and then just walk away with a fucking handshake?”
“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I got caught up, just basking in the glow of a life I knew I couldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“No,” he growled. “I don’t want a fucking apology. I wanna know what the hell I’m supposed to do with you.”
She shook her head in his hands. “I can’t make decisions for you but I think we both know the most rational answer. There really isn’t any middle-ground here. Baby, I’d take a bullet for you. I really would. But I’m the kind of person who needs to know what direction it’s coming from. The club’s your life, I can’t ask you to go against what you believe in. But you also can’t ask me to live a life that doesn’t work for me. I’ll never be okay with being left in the dark because I
know
what lurks in the shadows. You can’t shield me from reality like your brothers do with their women. I know how things work in the street, I’m a product of it.”
“So, what? You bow out, just like that?”
She furrowed her brows. “What do you want from me? An ultimatum? I can’t do that. Torch, I’ve been through a lot, I’ve seen a lot. I can deal with just about anything. But you? Eventually resenting me? Baby, that would fucking
break
me. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
Break her? She was breaking
him
.
With no words that could fix it coming to mind, he simply pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. The moment was short-lived, a knock at the door reminded him of where they were.
“Sorry,” Buddha said, poking his face in apprehensively. “We got company, brother. Feds.”
“Fuck. They got a warrant?”
“Nah, just wanna talk.”
“Yeah, okay.” Torch nodded. He turned to Liv and pointed at the bed. “Stay here.”
“I need to get going.”
“Babe—”
“Don’t worry,” she groaned. “I’m not skipping town. I just have a lot of work to do at home.”
He nodded and followed her and Buddha through the clubhouse.
As soon as they stepped foot outside, she stopped in her tracks. “Shit.”
“What?” Torch asked.
“Oh, just my past imploding all at once and slapping me in the fucking face,” she said, her eyes glued to the pair of suits standing in front of a black sedan. “They’re DEA.”
: 23 :
One in ten million. That was the statistical chance of being killed by an airplane part falling from the sky at that very moment. What I wouldn’t have given for a piece of sheet metal to come crashing down on my skull. A freak lightening strike or sinkhole would have been welcome too, anything to get me away from this unholy mess.
Of all the Feds who could’ve shown up—in that exact parking lot, at that exact time—what were the fucking chances of Agent Tricia Rhodes making an uninvited appearance? Panic set in as I combed my brain, scanning for memories of any possible mistakes I could have made that would link Chloe James to Livia Ash, or any of my other handful of identities.
There was no way. She had to be here for a different reason.
I was curious, but not curious enough to stick around and risk being made. I didn’t see how that was possible either—my face was barely recognizable back then—but this was obviously not the day to get cocky about anything. I had to go, the longer I stood there the better of an opportunity she’d have to look at me closely. Problem was, I knew my eyes were red and puffy from the emotional scene inside.
Shit
.
As the agents approached, I started strolling toward my bike, trying to avoid all eye contact. Unfortunately, that entailed walking right past them. And again, the fucking universe was hellbent on conspiring against me.
I’d barely passed by when I felt a hand grab my wrist and tug. I had to turn around.
“Hey,” Rhodes said, a concerned look on her face as she inspected mine. “You okay?”
I feigned a smile. “I’m fine. Excuse me.”
But she refused to release her hold and I was stuck letting her eyeball me. “I know you from somewhere.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I replied. “Sorry, but I really need to get going. I have an appointment to get to.”
“Thought you were here to talk to us, not to harass our women,” Torch cut in.
She scowled and let me go. Not wanting to give her another look, I smiled again and walked off. I only managed to take a few steps before any thoughts of victory disappeared.
“Chloe,” she called out.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I didn’t respond and kept walking, but she jogged over and stepped directly in my path, forcing me to stop.
“Yeah,” she mused, looking me up and down, “I
do
know you.”
Between the fucked-up meet with Bastien, spilling my guts to the club, basically telling Torch that we had to go our separate ways, and now this, my nerves were beyond frayed. I knew I wasn’t thinking right, but there wasn’t an ounce of energy left to put on a show. “I have no idea who you are,” I told her.
“I never forget a voice, Chloe,” she smirked. “God knows I listened to the recording of your hospital interview plenty of times. And your face might have been black and blue, but the one green eye that
hadn’t
swelled shut was pretty distinct.”
Torch stepped over and pulled me into his side protectively. “She said she doesn’t know you—”
Rhodes scoffed. “Tell me, dear… Why is it every time we run into each other you’re somehow involved with criminals? Last time you’d been stabbed, now you look like you’ve been crying. Is that just a thing for you? Do you get your kicks from bad boys who treat you like crap?”
Torch had to grab me with both arms as I lunged at the bitch, the last strand of resolve finally snapping. “You don’t know shit!” I yelled.
“Calm the fuck down,” Torch growled in my ear. “She’s trying to bait you.”
“Hit a nerve, did I?” she asked. “Guess there’s some truth behind it. You know what else I learned the truth about after you took off? Your name. Chloe Belman, right?”
My nostrils flared and chest heaved, but Torch was right. “I got it,” I hissed at him between clenched teeth. He let me go, no doubt against his better judgment.
Rhodes smiled and shrugged. “Wasn’t that hard to figure out. There was a library book of poems at the house, checked out to the same card you’d been using since you were six. Wasn’t too hard to pull up your birth certificate and school records after that. At least the ones up until you dropped out at fifteen.”
Fuck. I knew they’d figure it out eventually, I just hadn’t thought it would be one of
my
fuck-ups that would make it so easy.
“Yeah and you’re a fucking pillar of honesty aren’t you?” I seethed. “Don’t act like you know a thing about me. Or these guys.”
“I see. They’re
different
, right? Different than the man who would’ve killed you if Philly PD showed up just a few seconds later? Murder’s murder, honey. Don’t let these guys fool you into thinking one side is more justified. You’re smarter than that.”
Yeah, they
were
different. These men had more honor than she could even begin to wrap her condescending mind around. But Torch was right, she was baiting me, and despite my exhaustion and rage, I didn’t want to say anything in the heat of the moment that would hurt them. Or myself, for that matter. The statute of limitations for obstruction had long run out, and she wasn’t stupid enough to re-open the case against Mitch just to get me, but I knew how these people worked. If they wanted you, they’d find a way to tie you to any crime necessary. I wasn’t about to hand her the ammo myself.
“I’m a hell of a lot smarter than you think, Agent Rhodes. And I don’t have to stand here and say anything to you. I know my rights. So, unless you have a warrant for my arrest or cause to detain me, I’ll be leaving.” I looked behind her to where the others were standing, “Zed, you ready to go?”
He looked at me questioningly, but quickly nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Rhodes furrowed her brows at me.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked,” I said sarcastically. “How about Zed? You have a warrant for him?”
She looked over at her partner who just shrugged. “No. You’re free to go. Here.” She pulled a business card from her pocket and tried to hand it to me. “In case you need some help. Again.”
I shook my head. “I won’t be needing it. Have a good day.” With that, I patted Torch’s back and tried to walk off.
But again, she stepped in front of me. “Why do you hate the people who helped you, Chloe? Why are you so hostile?”
I smiled and shook my head at her stupidity. “You’re joking, right? You know, you sit here and judge these hard-working guys who do great things for their community. Based on what? A bad apple or two? If you actually believed your own bullshit, you’d look around in your own orchard first. And
then
come back and tell me that you’re any better than those you condemn. Because I do know a thing or two about both sides, and the only difference is that they’re a little more honest about it and don’t hide behind a corrupt badge… Excuse me.”
With that, she finally managed to shut up and let me pass. Zed followed me out to the lot and got on his bike. I grabbed my backpack out of the car and strapped it on, then looked back at Torch as I put on my helmet, part of me wondering whether it would be the last time I saw his face.
I shook it off and quickly got the fuck out of there.
Zed rode beside me the entire way back to the farmhouse. Every trembling bone in my body begged me to twist the throttle to full capacity, but I resisted the urge. Getting pulled over was probably one of the few things I still had control over.
I should have been able to get the frustration out of my system by the time we got there, but even riding hadn’t helped calm me down. As soon as I parked the Busa, I jumped off and angrily threw my helmet against the wall. Then I just started picking up random shit from around the garage and throwing that too. Thank hell the important stuff was strapped to my back.
Before I had the chance to destroy everything in sight, I felt Zed’s arms wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. “Hey… Relax, darlin’, you’re okay… Just breathe…”
But I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even fucking see straight. My heart started beating so fast that I thought it was going to explode in my chest.
My arms and legs started to tingle and darkness began to invade my field of vision. If Zed hadn’t been holding me up, I would’ve fallen right down. But thankfully he was, and as my limbs started to go limp, he gently dropped to the floor with me.
He rocked back and forth, cradling me as I curled into a fetal position. “Keep breathing,” he repeated. “Just a panic attack, sweetheart.”
So this was what that shit felt like. Fucking hell, it was like oscillating between drowning, suffocating, and having a heart attack. I took Zed’s advice and focused on taking deep and controlled breaths.
A few minutes later, I felt normal enough to at least sit up. He nudged my chin up to look at him. “You good?”