Page 11 of Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC 4)

  Merlin digs that shit, and Cookie knows it. It’s right about then that in my head, I forgive her for sucking Wrath off in front of the entire club the other night. Merlin is nice enough but rather unimpressive in the sack.

  Wrath perks up and moves down a few seats, when Cookie escorts Merlin to one of the back rooms. Picturing the scene back there sends a shiver of revulsion through me, and I stop to catch my breath.

  Concern darkens Wrath’s eyes. “You okay?”

  I nod once and turn to fill a plastic tub with ice, stick some beer bottles and cans in it, and set it on the counter. The party seems to be winding down. There’s more fucking and smoking up than people needing my bar services.

  “You done, Angel Face?”

  Holy shit. We both kind of stare at each other. He hasn’t called me that in a long time.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I answer, trying to smooth over the awkward moment.

  Someone turns up the music. To drown out the moaning and groaning filling the club, I suppose. It’s a slow song. A painful duet about being broken. Amazement fills me when Wrath holds out his hand at the end of the bar.

  “Come dance with me.”

  Slipping my hand into his sends a warm shiver down my spine.

  He tugs me out in front of the bar where there’s empty space and wraps his arms around me.

  “Since when do you dance, Wrecking Ball?” I ask, looking up at him.

  A soft, pained smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Tiny white orbs of light dance around the room with us. Leaving us in shadows most of the time. We’re not really dancing as much as we’re swaying together with our arms wrapped around one another.

  Something a little more upbeat comes on next. Although when I listen to the words, it actually depresses me. Whoever wrote it could have been writing about Wrath and me. Or maybe I’m feeling extra sensitive tonight and everything reminds me of us.

  Either way, I’m having fun shimmying my hips from side to side and moving to the beat. Wrath keeps his arm around my waist but his body away from me. Pressing back into him, I understand why.

  Except for a round of angry sex maybe four years back, we haven’t touched each other this much since those three wonderful nights we had together almost eight years ago. Our nights at Fletcher Park and at the drive-in remain the first and last real dates I’ve ever been on. While I’m content and grateful for my place in the club, there’s a part of me that always wonders…

  Tears suddenly fill my eyes, and I try to pull out of his embrace. I can’t keep doing this same dance with him over and over.

  “What’s wrong, Trin?” he rasps, keeping his arms around me.

  “Nothing. I’m just getting tired.” It’s not a lie. Since we seem to have called a truce, being near him has a sedative effect on me. I haven’t had anything to drink tonight, but my body is relaxed and happy for a change.

  “I rode here with Rock—don’t have my bike.”

  I shake my head. “I drove myself. I’ll be okay.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a ride home,” he says after he finishes the biggest, fakest grizzly bear yawn.

  What the heck is he up to? We did have a lot of fun watching back-to-back scary movies last night. He didn’t make a single move on me. Wrath acting like such a reserved gentleman is unnerving. I prop my hand on my hip and adopt a schoolteacher tone. “Are you going to insist on driving my car?”

  I sense him struggling, and I almost laugh that he’s so concerned with not ticking me off. I honestly don’t care if he insists on driving, but I can’t help messing with Wrath. He’s such a caveman.

  “No, I had beer before,” he finally answers.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I pull out of his embrace and reach behind the counter to grab my purse.

  “You need to let Rock know we’re taking off?”

  Wrath searches the club. Not seeing prez anywhere, he holds out his hand to me and we head down the back hallway. Wrath’s jaw tightens as we get to Rock’s office door, but I don’t ask why. After two sharp knocks, Rock’s tired voice calls us to come in.

  He’s stretched out on the couch by himself.

  “You okay?” Wrath asks.

  “Yeah, just waiting for the place to empty out.” Rock sits up and eyes both of us. “You two taking off?”

  Wrath looks from me to Rock. “I was. But I’ll stay and move everyone out if you want to go see Hope.”

  “Nah. I’ll go see her in the morning. You two go ahead. Dex and Teller still out there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks. Night.”

  We step back into the hall, and I can tell Wrath is conflicted about leaving. “We can stay.”

  He glances down at me. “Let me just go talk to the guys for a sec. Stay here.”

  Naturally, the minute he takes off, Merlin comes stumbling around the corner. I groan when he spots me.

  “Trinity, where you been hidin’ all night?”

  “Behind the bar.” You know, the place where I talked to you maybe an hour ago? “How you doing, Merlin?”

  “Good. Real good.” Jesus, what the fuck did Cookie do to him back there? “You leaving so early, baby?”

  “Yeah, I’m waiting here for Wrath.”

  Merlin isn’t so high that he misses the implication of my words.

  He gets into my personal space a little more than I care for by pressing me up against the wall opposite Rock’s office door. “You with him?” He throws his arms against the wall behind my head, caging me in.

  I’m saved from answering.

  “What’s going on?” Wrath growls from the hallway entrance.

  Merlin’s slow to turn away from me, but I slip out from underneath his arm and hold my hand out to Wrath. “Nothing. I was just telling Merlin we were about to head out.”

  Wrath’s face registers a second of surprise before he takes my hand, tugs me to him, and slips a possessive arm around my waist. Okay, that’s overkill, but I’m not complaining because it feels really good to be up against him.

  Merlin straightens up and away from the wall. “Have fun, kids,” he says with a wink and heads back into the club.

  “Come on, Trin.”

  Yup, I’m ready to bolt.

  I’m still shaking with rage when Trinity pulls out onto the highway. Fucking Merlin thinking he’s going to what? Fuck her in the goddamn hallway?

  “You fuck him?” I blurt out. Smooth, real smooth, jackass.

  Trinity throws me a cool glance before focusing on the road. “Who?”

  “Merlin,” I manage to grind out.

  “Why are you asking?”

  Fuck. Why am I asking? I can already sense the answer is a big fat yes. So why do I need her to confirm it?

  “Never mind, Trin. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  She glances at me again. I can tell I’ve shocked her. I’m furious at myself for ruining the good mood we had going on at the club. Dancing with her erased any lingering bad feelings. Having her in my arms again left me certain I needed to fix things between us.

  “Do you need me to stop anywhere?” she asks after we’ve put some miles between us and Crystal Ball.

  The longer I’m in her presence, the calmer I feel. I almost forget I wanted to slit the throat of one of our allies not fifteen minutes ago. “Sure. I’m out of beer. Do you mind stopping at Ward’s?”

  The small grocery store is the last thing we’ll pass before taking the long country road to the MC.

  “Nope.”

  The parking lot is almost empty this time of night. I arch a brow when Trinity grabs a shopping cart. “I need to get some things too,” she explains.

  I gotta admit this is fucking weird. Doing something so ordinary with Trinity. What’s weirder is how much I enjoy it. She cruises up and down the aisles, searching for a bunch of stuff. It cracks me up how particular she is about everything she buys, from pasta sauce to her chocolate bars. I know she’s in charge of ordering supplies and food for the clubhouse too, bu

t I’ve never gone on any of those trips with her. A lot of times, I think she just has stuff delivered. But this trip is personal, and it’s intriguing.

  “Anything else, babe?”

  She pauses and a slight flush creeps over her cheeks. “No, I’m good.”

  She squawks when I pay for everything, but I just laugh.

  “Wrath, that was stuff for me, not the club.” She protests on the way to the parking lot.

  I just shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t feel like waiting around for two separate orders.”

  She hesitates while I’m loading the bags into the back of the Jeep.

  “I gotta run back in. I forgot something.” She thrusts the keys at me and runs inside before I can get a word out.

  Nutty girl.

  Arranging the seat so I can drive is a pain in the ass, but by the time I fix the mirrors and pull up to the front door, she’s walking out.

  “Hey, little girl, want some candy?” I rasp in my creepiest perv voice.

  “Oh my God.” She laughs and stuffs her bag in the backseat before getting in.

  “What did you get?”

  “None of your business.”

  Well, of course now I really want to know. Can’t be condoms. We keep the clubhouse so well stocked we should ask Trojan to sponsor our parties.

  “More candy bars?”

  “Knock it off.”

  She’s blushing furiously and I finally get it. Girl stuff. “Sorry.”

  Even out of the corner of my eye, I can tell my apology shocks her. “Why are you being so nice to me tonight?”

  “Have I been mean?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole that you’re shocked when I’m nice to you.”

  “Wrath—”

  “I mean it.”

  “Okay.” She’s quiet for a while. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her twisting her hands in her lap. Obviously, there’s something she wants to say. “Thanks for worrying about me… before.”

  I’m not sure which time she’s talking about. It seems like I’m always worried about Trinity.

  “When I got to CB. I can’t believe you think I’d ever get up and take my clothes off in front of a room full of people. I mean, in the dark, you know, with one or—”

  “Trin, stop, please.”

  Christ, I don’t need the threesome reminder. It hits me—she means the scarring on her hip. I’ve always thought she was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known and don’t give her scars a lot of thought, so yeah, I thought she came down to CB to dance. It never occurred to me the scars bother her that much.

  “You’re one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen, Trinity.”

  “That’s sweet, Wrath.”

  I can tell by her tone she thinks I’m just blowing smoke up her ass, and I hate it. “Trin, I’m not just saying that.”

  “Thanks,” she says softly, this time sounding more convinced.

  For the second night in a row, we’re basically alone in the house. All the guys are either downstairs or at Crystal Ball.

  “Wanna finish watching those movies?”

  We’d only managed to make it through two of the Paranormal Activity movies. Just as I remembered, Trin is still a fuck lot of fun to watch scary movies with. She jumps at the scary stuff and pretends to cover her eyes. A lot of the time, she giggles. Maybe originally I’d picked them because I’d been hoping she’d want to cuddle up during the scary scenes, but what ended up happening instead? No contest.

  Tonight, she does snuggle up against me, resting her head on my chest. She reaches behind us and pulls down a blanket. I settle my hand on her hip and wait for her to say something or move away, but she stays. After a while, I realize she’s asleep. My hand inches under her shirt to stroke her soft skin.

  Skin I’ve really missed touching.

  We’d had what turned into an angry hookup the night of the party I held to celebrate the opening of my gym. Fantastic, explosive sex that ended badly because of my stupid mouth. But I hadn’t been able to hold her or touch her like this. Not since our first three nights together.

  “Wrath, I can’t,” she whispers, halting my exploration.

  Right. The secret supplies she bought. At least I comfort myself with the fact she won’t be sleeping with any of my brothers for the next few days either.

  “Thought you were asleep, babe.”

  “I was. You’re tickling me.”

  Oh. My fingers twitch over her ribs, and she giggles. “Stop.”

  “Okay.” Pure lust burns through me, but I rearrange her shirt and lay my hand on top of the blanket. “Go back to sleep, Trin.”

  After a while, she drops off. I flip on the weather station and mute the television. Throughout the night, the sounds of my brothers and whatever girls they’ve brought with them infiltrate our quiet little bubble. Eventually, I fall asleep too.

  In the morning, I wake up alone.

  Because I’m a lucky fuck and shit always seems to go my way, Z and Teller are the two brothers who ride with me to the fight. Rock would normally be here, but he’s somewhere balls deep in his bitch.

  Teller’s acting like a nervous mama around me. Considering he’s one-third of the reason I’m here, I find that perversely funny.

  The guy I’m fighting came in from the West Coast, where supposedly fighters take shit more seriously? Don’t know; don’t care. What I do know is I have a fuck lot of rage to unleash on someone. Since it can’t be my brother, it’s gonna be Cali.

  “Just worry about your end, Mr. Treasurer. Let me handle the gritty stuff.”

  He storms off in a toddler-worthy fit.

  “What crawled up your ass?” Z asks.

  “Gee, I don’t know, maybe him questioning my ability to win a fight about an hour before I have to go in the ring?”

  “He didn’t say that.” Z cocks his head and studies me for a minute. “When did you schedule this fight anyway?”

  “Last weekend. Why?”

  “Just curious. Seemed like it came out of nowhere.”

  I hadn’t been given the name Wrath at sixteen because I knew how to hold back, so little welterweight Teller, of all people, questioning me fucking pissed me off. Fighting gave me the outlet to unleash all my boiled-up, held-in, blistering rage. Rage that this time Teller unknowingly has caused.

  The only form of fighting I could do was underground, where the rules were bendable. All the people who participated understood the need to keep their mouths shut.

  I can’t stop thinking about last weekend, after Trinity and I left Crystal Ball together. Time seemed to reverse, leaving us where we were eight years ago. Fuck, if I’m not dying to recapture that. Recapture her. Let go of the past and do shit right this time.

  Once I get this fight out of the way, I plan to concentrate on her. Our two little movie nights hadn’t been enough. I’d only seen her here and there all week. Although, she made a point of stopping to wish me luck before I left tonight. Her honest encouragement and soft smile shredded me inside.

  All thoughts left my brain as I stepped into the makeshift ring and focused on my opponent. The rage I kept locked down bubbled through me, further narrowing my focus.

  Glaring at the punk-ass bitch who’d flown in from Cali to fight me, I follow him around the ring, assessing his skill. For his heavyweight frame, he moves with grace and speed; I’d give him that. I’m also surprisingly quick for a guy my size. I’ve got strength and power.

  And a fuckload of fury.

  Tired of fucking around, I move to take his ass down for good.

  Kicking out, I land a solid hit on his thigh, then connect my fist with his chin. A fist to the kidney and punch to his temple, and he hits the floor. After a few ticks, the ref blows the whistle and calls the match in my favor.

  I shake off the tingling in my hands and limp out of the ring, barely out of breath./>   “Waste of a fucking plane ticket,” I growl at the ref, who laughs back.

  Z and Teller meet me with grins on their faces.

  “Nice job, bro,” Teller says with a slap on my back. I suffer a minor bit of guilt for being so pissy with him before.

  Couple people in the back room give me shit about how quick the fight ended. Fuck ‘em.

  People bitch about the money they lost because they bet against me. Fuck them too.

  I stay in lethal shape. My life and the lives of my brothers depends on it. Not that any of them are pansies. Every one of my brothers could fight. Even dickhead Teller who used his smaller size to his advantage.

  I’d trained them all to some degree. It’s in our by-laws that everyone needs to keep in fighting shape. No fat, beer-bellied, sloppy slobs allowed. That was a good way to get yourself killed. I never understood how any true outlaw could let himself get soft. We shunned society’s conventions, so our fists, our strength was sometimes all we had. Something these punks never understand—I would fight to the death to protect what belongs to me.

  So some little underground match like this?

  Bitch, please.

  The clubhouse is in an uproar when Wrath walks in. Arms stretched over his head, cocky grin in place, he asks for a Jack and Coke the minute he sees me.

  Raising an eyebrow and cocking my head to the side, I answer, “Only if you won.”

  Grinning back at me, he winks. “I always win, babe.”

  “Cocky fucker,” I tease, handing him his drink.

  He downs it quick. “Fuck, that’s good. Missed ol’ Jack.”

  Club girls swarm around him, and I swallow down my jealousy as he turns around to talk them up.

  Prez stays long enough to congratulate Wrath, then takes off. To see Hope, I assume, and the thought makes me happy.

  After watching him spend time with skank after skank for years, the way he pants after good girl Hope is pretty adorable.

  Teller slides up next to me and runs his fingers up my arm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Should’a seen him. He made it look like it was nothing.”

  I suck in a painful breath. Wrath has never wanted me to come to one of his fights. “I can imagine.”