Page 11 of Bolt's Flame
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “What I’m eyeing or anything else about me is none of your business, and I’m getting damn tired of remindin’ you.”
“Well, you better get in line,” she shot back, pointing at Gearhead as she slid off my lap, standing up. Her hands went to her hips as she glared down at me. “You know, if you wanted that little mouse, you could’ve just said so.”
“Jenny,” I warned, my patience wearing thin. The last thing I needed was a scene and for Fiona to hear this shit. “Don’t insult her ever again or your ass will be out the fucking door,” I hissed low for her ears only. “Fiona is club family, and you best remember it.”
She huffed, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. Call for me when you’re ready to have a real woman again.” With that, she stalked off into the crowd, disappearingamong the throng of bodies. Jenny was being possessive of something that didn’t belong to her and never would.
Me.
I let out another sigh, slumping back in my chair.
A chair scraped against the floor beside me, and I looked up to see Chain lowering himself into it, a knowing smirk on his rugged face. He took a swig of his beer before nodding in Jenny’s direction. “Trouble in sweet butt paradise?”
“Don’t start,” I muttered, reaching for my own drink. “She overstepped, and I called her on it.”
Chain chuckled, his eyes following mine across the room to where Fiona sat. “She jealous of our new guest who has your attention... along with a few others. There’s always thatsomethin’a woman like Fiona brings out in us men.”
I shot him a warning look, wanting to punch him for confirming it wasn’t just me, but I mumbled, “It’s not like that.”
“Sure,” he drawled, clearly unconvinced. “Just admirin’ from afar, huh?”
I didn’t bother responding, taking a long pull from my bottle instead. The truth was, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.Or thinking. Fiona was... different. And not in a way I usually went for. She was a commitment, and I had never committed long enough to a woman to even make it to my bed, fucking them against walls, tables, in chairs, on the ground. I wasn’t known as the hit and quit, done in fifteen minutes guy for nothing.
Plus, she was weak, and way too fragile for me.
Yet, I couldn’t get her out of my head.
“How’s she holdin’ up?” I found myself asking, surprising even myself with the question.
Chain shrugged, leaning back in his chair, running his fingers through his dark hair. “About as well as you’d expect. Brenda’s been lookin’ after her, and Horse hasn’t left her side much. She’s tough, though. Stronger than she looks.”
I nodded, not convinced of his last statement as I watched Fiona listen attentively to whatever story Gearhead was telling now. Her smile was small but genuine, and there was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there a few days ago. Why is Gearhead hanging around her so much? Seems like he was always in her orbit.
“Think she’s gonna stick around?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Hard to say,” Chain replied, studying me with a curious gaze. “Why? You thinkin’ of making a move?”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “You know me better than that.”
“Do I?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m sittin’, looks like our resident roaming wolf has his eye on the wounded lamb.”
“Cut the shit, Chain,” I growled, but there was no real heat behind it. Mostly because he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Don’t you have some ghosts to chase?” Chain was convinced this place was haunted, and swore he’d seen ghosts around the place. We’re convinced he just drinks too much.
He chuckled again, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’ll quit, but just remember who her daddy is, Bolt. Horse will kill you if you hurt his precious girl, with Brenda bringin’ you back to life for the opportunity to kill you again.”
I didn’t respond, my eyes drifting back to Fiona once more. She was standing now, collecting the empty beer mugs from the table and making her way toward the bar. As she weaved through the crowd, she kept her head down, trying to stay out of everyone’s way. Despite that, a few of the guys greeted her warmly, and she offered small smiles in return.
As she reached the bar, she struggled to balance all the mugs in her arms. Before I realized what I was doing, I was on my feet, moving toward her.
“What are you, a busboy now?” Chain called after me, laughter clear in his voice. I ignored him, closing the distance between me and Fiona in a few strides.
“Here, let me help you with that,” I said, reaching out to take a couple of the mugs from her precarious grip.
She looked up, startled, those big blue eyes locking onto mine. Yes, they were a different shade today, lighter. Up close, I could see the bruises on her face were fading, but still very noticeable. Despite that, she was... pretty.
“Oh, um, thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the noise.
“No problem,” I replied, setting the mugs down on the bar. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. We have the sweet butts to clean up.”