Page 16 of The Sentinels
"So?" I hissed back. "Since when do you care about me?"
"I saw the way Casanova kept pushing drinks your way. How he couldn't keep his fucking hands off you. It was clear he had one thought on his mind, and that was getting into your pants!"
I couldn't believe him. "So?" I hissed back again. "Doyle is a nice man. Maybe I wanted him to get into my pants! Did you ever think of that? It's none of your fucking business anyway! You have no business stalking me!"
"You belong to the club! Your safety is my business!"
My jaw dropped with disbelief. "Newsflash, asshole, I work for Tanner. That is all. I do not belong to the Sentinels! What I do or who I do when I'm not working is none of anyone's business."
Ace leaned in close, gritting down into my face. "That's where you're wrong."
I backed up. "Oh, yeah?" I was too furious to heed the underlying warning in his sharp tone. All the months of being at his beck and call and getting nothing in return had taken their toll. Seeing him with that woman on the dance floor had been the last straw for me, making me realize that Ace was a user. "You're nothing but a user, Ace. You think you're the only one I give blowjobs to?" I asked him softly, realizing that I was probably making a huge mistake, but it was too late to take my angry words back now.
The silence that ensued was deafening. I hated myself for giving in to the hurt consuming me by making me want to hurt Ace in return. Tears burned in my eyes, and I could only hope that he didn't recognize them. Neither one of us moved. We just stood there, barely breathing, our eyes locked in a glare of anger and some other emotions too complex to figure out.
"I think you should leave," I finally said, wincing at the raw emotion turning my voice hoarse.
"Fucking good idea."
He pivoted, and the first tear splashed down upon my cheek. I watched silently as he stomped back to his bike and mounted it. He sat there for a minute, as if in indecision, before finally kicking it to life, and then casting a glance back in my direction.
"Go inside, Emerson."
His tone made it clear that he wouldn't move until I did as he said. Somehow I managed to make it to the door without falling flat on my face. Between being drunk and the tears clouding my vision, I couldn’t see a thing. I unlocked my door and didn't hear Ace's bike rev to life until the door was closed and locked behind me. I leaned against it with tears of losing something I'd never had falling down my cheeks. I listened to the roar of his bike move further away until it gradually vanished into the night.
Chapter 10
Ace
It felt as if my head had just touched the pillow when my phone went off. Swearing, I reached out blindly for it before locating it on the night stand. I checked the time first, and then noticed that it was Gabe, the club's VP. Shit! Was I supposed to be somewhere?
"Yeah?" I grumbled into the phone, lying back onto the bed.
"Prez wants to know why our enforcer isn't here for church."
Oh, fuck. I released a heavy breath, relaxing a little. We held church first thing every morning at After Hours. Most of the time it was just to shoot the shit, but there'd been trouble lately with another MC visiting the area. They were staying in a few rooms at a cheap, rundown hotel on the beach, riding through town like they fucking owned it, stirring up shit in some of the bars. We didn't give a shit who came to our town, as long as they didn't bring trouble, and we'd assured Deputy Callahan that we'd keep eyes on the Hellraisers. In other words, we'd agreed to deal with the MC if they got out of hand.
"Be right there," I mumbled, disconnecting the call.
I sat up with a groan, planting my feet on the floor and running my hands through my long hair. I gave my head a shake to clear it, and then got to my feet and headed to the bathroom. I took a piss, jumped into the shower, threw on some clothes, and headed out, praying that there would be some coffee left when I got there.
I was fifteen minutes away from the bar. The roads were quiet at this time of morning, and After Hours was located right outside the busy town. I was stopped at a red light when I began to notice the familiar sound of motorcycles coming up behind me. The hair at the back of my neck stirred in warning. I turned and looked over my shoulder, taking in the five Hellraisers rolling up.
"Hey, brother," one of them acknowledged.
I gave him a chin lift. I didn't consider the fuckers my brothers, and I knew that his greeting was his way of pissing me off. I resisted the urge to reach back to make sure that I'd remembered to tuck my gun in my pants because my gut warned me that they were going to cause trouble.
The Hellraisers were based out of Georgia, but they were known for being a nomad club. They'd find a place, usually some small town off the map, settle down, do their damage, and then move on to the next place. Like a swarm of locusts. It amused me to think that they thought they were going to move in to Daytona and claim it.
"They let you out all alone?" the same man smirked, drawing laughter from his brothers.
"Don't piss him off, Bear, he's their fucking enforcer." More laughter followed. "We don't want the famous nerves of steel coming down on us."
"Ugly, motherfucker."
My lips quirked.
"But pretty ride. You get good pussy with that bike?"