Page 12 of Apple of His Eye

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Page 12 of Apple of His Eye

Fuck.

How could I not see it?

My stomach twisted with every memory I relived, and it nearly drove me mad, causing me to doubt the man I am. It was hard to keep from dwelling on the guilt eating away at me, leaving me raw and ragged.

I’veneverfelt good enough in any aspect of life.

No, that’s not accurate, because there was a time I felt good enough. I was happy. I was hopeful. I was everything I thought I needed to be for her.

Lottie.

But I was wrong.

I wasn’t what she needed, though. I wasn’t what she wanted either, and it took me a long time to accept that fact. Ultimately, I may never be what a woman wants. How could I be?

I’ve seen firsthand what my chosen lifestyle does to a marriage. My parents divorced because my mother couldn’t handle what the MC life entailed. She hated the parties, the women, the danger… and she left my father when he clarified that the club would always come before her.

And now, I’m that same clubs’ president. How can I expect any woman to live second best, because my brother’s—my club comes before love?

That’s why when Smoke’s text came in this morning, I jumped into action. I knew eventually my silent vow to protect Everleigh would butt up against my responsibility for the club. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon.

When Everleigh came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to go, I had to do a double take. There was a sparkle to her I hadn’t seen before. Maybe it was because of how hard she slept, but she looked… different. Relaxed even.

She was calm compared to the chaos churning inside of me.

She understood when I explained why I wanted her to come with me, and that I would need her to lie low in the truck while we pulled out of the garage. She didn’t flinch when I took her hand to lead her through the club’s entrance and down the hallway toward my room.

I knew I couldn’t hide her from the Jackals—I didn’t want to, but I needed time to explain what was happening to them and get the ball rolling. Which is why I told her not to leave my room.

Many of the Jackals live in the clubhouse permanently, so the last thing I needed was for her to be wandering around unprotected—unclaimed.

She nodded, and I left her to get comfortable.

Thankfully, church didn’t run long, and we easily solved the problems from last night’s mission. Smoke was right to call us in about the problem, though. Our lives as outlaws can sometimes be unpredictable, but we don’t fuck around when the issues surround our primary sources of income.

Our charter of the Jackals doesn’t deal with drugs. Sometimes we help run guns for other charters, and we offer a security service to a few high-end clients. Of course, we keep our noses out of their business dealings, but we’ve never had an unethical problem arise.

Yet.

The Jackals run a legit mechanic shop from the compound, and a few years back we purchased a local nightclub. One we have since revamped into a bar and strip joint called Coconuts. Some of the sweet buts, and many of the guys work on the legit side of our businesses.

Last night’s mission focused on the shops’ legit business dealings. We’ve recently implemented a budget friendly repair service to the community, but to keep it going, occasionally we must find other ways to keep inventory. Gray-area ways.

Our supplier demanded more money for the parts he agreed to sell us. We did not want to pay more. Hence, the problem. The supplier didn’t understand he was fucking with professionals, and our response didn’t go unnoticed. In today’s meeting, we decided it was time to find a new connection—a better connection. One that wouldn’t playfuck around and find out.

Then I told them about Everleigh and our last twelve hours. Everyone agreed Raymond and her stepmother needed to be investigated—and dealt with quickly.

Bane assigned Smoke and Hardcore to track down Raymond. While Code requested Coyote and Dutch to help him put eyes up Fran’s house. I requested they bug the house, too. I don’t know if either is looking for Wildcat, but I’ll feel better knowing we have all our bases covered.

After the meeting wrapped, each one of my brothers offered me their hand and a silent promise to protect the girl. While I didn’t have to claim her off limits to this group, I would have to in an official capacity with the rest of the Jackals.

I don’t make it halfway through the common room when I spot her sitting at the bar, laughing.

What the fuck?

My heart jumps into my throat and I look around, trying to determine what Jackals’ face I’m going to plant my fist into. Fuck. It’s our newest patched member, Pothole. Great, the newbie, trained by Pretty Boy to charm the panties off any female in less than five minutes.

Everleigh laughs again, before bringing a straw to her lips. She looks up at her companion from under her thick eyelashes and I come unglued.




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