Текст книги "Chelsea "

Автор книги: Addison Jane

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“I...quit...” I spat in between gasps of air. “You’re...a...bastard.”

Deacon just smirked at me from behind the front desk as I gripped onto it for dear life. My legs felt like Jell-O. Spin classes were hard enough as it was, but being thrown in straight after running to work was like hell. My body was drenched in sweat, and stumbling over to where he was sitting had made me feel like Bambi trying to walk for the first time.

“Thought you were a runner?” he shot back sarcastically. “Where’s your endurance?”

“Screw you.” I poked my tongue out in an entirely childish way but I didn’t care.

He pushed back from the computer and walked around the desk, his smart-ass smirk turning to into a genuine smile. “You did great. I’m impressed.” The praise was warming. It felt good.

“Can I sit down now?” I asked with a laugh.

“Sure! We have another class starting in twenty minutes. How do you feel about aerobics?” He wiggled his eyebrows and I groaned.

“Great. I feel just great about it,” I mumbled as I walked off, legs still shaking under me.

Luckily for me, one of the college papers I took was in instructing. It ranged from one-on-one work to group led fitness. Some people in my class hadn’t liked the attention, but I didn’t really mind. I kind of loved the feeling of unity as you all moved together to the music. I grabbed a bottle of water from the large fridge that was next to the front desk as I passed and skulled back half of it. I loved the feeling the cold liquid as it went down my throat and settled in my stomach.

There was a small lounging area near the front door with a couple of sofas, a coffee table, and some magazines, so I dropped myself into the soft, billowy soft cushions with a satisfied sigh. The muscles in my legs screamed out ‘thank fuck for that.’ I flipped through a magazine for a while carelessly, not actually reading anything but just scanning the pages. When I saw Deacon heading for me, I groaned.

“Not yet. You said twenty minutes,” I called, holding the magazine up in front of my face. I heard him laugh and I peeked over the top. He was still coming toward me, but that’s when the world started to slow down. I swear it was like watching an action movie in slow motion.

The cocky grin melted from Deacon’s face and his hands reached out for me. He suddenly looked petrified and even as he called my name my mind still couldn’t compute what was happening and why he’d become so frantic.

That was until there was an explosion behind me and glass started to fall around me like a stunning sparkling rain. It glittered in the afternoon sunlight and scattered all over the floor. The magazine fell from my hands. I was pulled into Deacon’s arms and he dropped us both to the floor. I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t sure if it was because Deacon’s body was plastered on top of mine, covering me almost entirely, or if it was because I was in shock. I could hear screaming and yelling, and with my body pressed against the floor I could feel the pounding of footsteps running. They were running away.

It was gunfire.

My brain finally figured it out.

There was a torrential pour of gunfire shattering the large glass windows that lined the front of the gym and pinging off the equipment. Someone was fucking shooting at us. The rain of bullets stopped momentarily and Deacon wasted no time in climbing off me and pushing me across the floor. I tried to scramble to my knees, but I was panicking and my body wouldn’t do what I was trying to tell it to.

“The locker rooms! We need to get to the locker rooms,” Deacon roared in my ear as he gave me another push, sliding me across the wooden floor. I scrambled on my hands and knees with him directly behind me. Another hail of bullets began and I screamed, curling myself into a ball and covering my head. I felt an arm hook around my waist and I was being pulled across the floor, glass and pieces of wood grating against my skin.

“Take her,” I heard Deacon yell, and I was lifted from the ground.

I jostled and jumped around as someone ran with me down the hall. The door to the locker room slammed open and I was placed gently on one of the wooden benches. I didn’t get a good look at the guy who’d thrown me there because as soon as I was dumped he shot back out the way we’d come. My body shook. It was all too real, but at the same time all I could think was that this must be a nightmare.

Living with the Brothers I’d seen my fair share of bar fights, stabbings and the occasional gun going off. But I always knew I was safe, I knew they weren’t meant for me.

This…this was meant for me.

I could feel it in my gut, and as soon as the realization hit me I ran into the toilet stall and emptied the contents of my stomach into the shiny white bowl.

They were going to get to me.

There was no one here to protect me.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, curled in a ball on the cold floor, but it felt like an eternity. Waiting for someone to walk in and end my life. The locker door slammed again and I wiggled my body closer to the toilet, thinking for some fucking stupid reason I might be hidden.

“Chelsea,” I heard Deacon’s voice call out to me and jumped to my feet. I leaped on him as soon and he stepped into view. “Oh, thank God.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly, it was what I needed right now.

“Oh my God, Deacon. We need to get out of here!” My fingers dug into his arm, but he didn’t even flinch. “Are they gone? Someone would’ve called the police by now.”

His arms slowly released me and I stepped back. His face was stone, almost cold.

“Deacon—”

“They’re here.”

My eyes widened. “Who’s here?”

“The police.”

I felt the tension in my body slowly start to dissipate and the air whooshed out of me in relief. While I wasn’t a huge fan of the police, living with the Brothers by Blood we were always looked at with a negative eye. They often pulled us over for no reason or just made lewd comments. I knew they had their reasons to be suspicious, but some took it to another level.

“Okay,” I said, my head bobbing. “Are they outside?”

He shook his head, his eyes bearing into me. I was scared by the sudden intensity from him.

“They’re right here,” his voice croaked. “I am one.”

“You’re a what?” I choked.

“A police officer.”

I backed away from him. “No…you’re not.”

He reached out and I flinched. “Chelsea, come on. It’s just me.”

“No! It’s not just you,” I snapped, pointing my finger accusingly. “I don’t even know who you are.”

Another man who I’d seen a few times around the gym and during mine and Rose’s second failed night out, burst into the locker room and looked around frantically. “We gotta get going. They’re still sitting outside, but we can head out the back.”

“What the hell is going on, Deacon?” I demanded, shooting both him and the other guy a deep glare. He rushed forward and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him out the locker room doors and down the hallway. I tried to tug back, but he continued to drag me with him, not even looking back. I caught a glimpse of the destruction that filled the front of the gym before I was pulled the opposite way.

“Oh God. The gym was full of people, are any…” My lips shook and trembled.

“Ninety percent were my people,” he said, unable to meet my gaze. “There are a couple scrapes and bruises, nothing major—we were prepared.” My mouth just hung open as I continued to let him pull me along with him. “They waiting for us out back?” He asked his friend who jogged next to us.

“Yeah.” He pushed the double doors open and they swung wide, slamming against the side of the building and causing me to jump.

There was a black BMW parked outside with its motor running. “Get in,” Deacon yelled at me as he swung open the back door to the car.

I froze for a second. He was the police. I thought he’d been my friend, but he had lied. I was angry, and I was scared. Thinking about the gun shots and the way the windows of the gym had shattered, and now I was running for my life—again.

I felt my body being lifted off the ground and stuffed in the backseat of the car, but my mind was in a haze. I didn’t fight. I just let Deacon maneuver me so he could climb in behind me and slam the door shut.

The ride was fast, Deacon kept a hand on my head, holding it down and out of sight. I’d finally gathered my thoughts and was ready to turn around and rip him a new one just as we stopped. I looked up, we were outside mine and Rose’s apartment.

“No one followed us. Let’s go inside,” he said, releasing his grip on me and sliding out of the car. I sat there. “Come on, Chelsea. We’ve got to go inside before they come around. We’re sitting ducks.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I sneered, pressing my back against the door like a caged animal. “Take me to the club,” I demanded, not knowing where else I could go, but knowing I would be safe there with the brothers.

“No doubt they’re already on their way, and you and I have shit to discuss before they barge in,” he told me earnestly, leaning in the door. I tried to push myself further away from him but the door behind me suddenly opened and I fell back. Someone hooked their hands under my arms and hefted me from the vehicle. I squirmed, trying to get free but they held tight, pulling me toward the staircase that lead to the front door. Deacon followed, his face serious and stern.

I finally found my feet at the top of the stairs. “Open the door, Chelsea.”

“Fuck you, Deacon,” I spat, folding my arms across my chest.

He sighed. “Gavin, open the door.”

I heard keys rustling behind me before the door swung open and Deacon herded me inside.

“You have keys to my apartment?” I gasped.

He shrugged, closing the door behind us and walking past me into our small kitchen. “I have a job to do, it was necessary.”

Gavin moved to stand in front of the doorway, blocking any exit I had. I stared him down. He was a good looking guy, broad shoulders, trim waist, tattoos that swirled up his arms and contradicted his fancy shirt. All he did was smile at me like he was enjoying this shit.

“Chelsea, we need to talk.”

I stormed into the kitchen, throwing open a cupboard, finding a large glass and filling it with water. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” I told him as I down the whole glass in practically one gulp. “Is that why you’re here? You think I’ll tell you shit about the club just because you helped me out,” I scoffed.

He planted both hands on the table and leaned in. “Right now, I don’t give a flying fuck about the club. I give a shit about you and the fact that you need to be safe.”

I laughed. “This is a joke. Take me to the clubhouse. I’ll be safe there.”

“I’m glad you find this so funny. Hanging out with the same club that killed your parents.”

My heart stopped and the glass fell from my hand, clattering into the sink.

“What the hell did you just say?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. “This is not the way I wanted to have this conversation.”

“This is not a conversation. This here is bullshit because you’re wrong,” I said pointing an angry, shaking finger at him.

He shook his head. “You know what, I wish I were. But evidence points to exactly that.”

I glared at him. Not believing it for a minute. My parents weren’t bad people and the club never went after anyone unless they were a threat to their family. “Who are you?”

“Sit down, Chelsea,” he murmured, his posture now completely beginning to sag as he hung his head.

“I don’t—”

His hand slammed on the table. I flinched and stepped back. Even though the kitchen table was between us. Deacon wasn’t the man I thought he was. I wasn’t sure what he was capable of.

“Sit down...please.” I swallowed and pulled one of the chairs out from the table and shuffled into it. He did the same, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. “Gav, head back outside will you.”

“Sure!” I heard the door open and close and the lock flick closed again

“Talk,” I said sternly, trying to muster up some sort of strength.

He clasped his hands together in front of him. “Do you remember much about your parents?”

I felt the familiar turning in my gut, dredging up old memories is not something I enjoyed doing. Sure there were a few things, little snippets of what my life had been like before they died, but never enough to really put anything together. “I remember some things. My mom in the kitchen cooking, them racing in the backyard, the night they were killed. Other than that, no not really.”

“I knew them.” He cleared his throat. “I knew you.”

I frowned. “That’s not even possible.”

“Our dad’s worked together. They were friends.” He rolled his shoulders like he was trying to release some sort of tension. “We met a couple of times, but my parents were separated so I was more with my mom than my dad.”

“Why are you telling me this, Deacon? I don’t understand where you are going with this crazy talk.” My legs jiggled underneath the table. Hearing him speak of my parents was strange. I’d never met anyone who knew them. My mom was an only child and both her parents had passed away. My dad’s family, from what I gathered, didn’t have a great relationship with him and didn’t want me.

He didn’t say anything until I looked up again and our eyes met. “Your dad was with the DEA. Just like mine was. Just like I am now.”

My mouth went completely dry. “He was...I don’t...I don’t remember.” Tears started to well in my eyes. Talking about my parents was hard enough, but having someone sit here and tell me things about them that I didn’t even know, was sending my mind into a tailspin.

Was this real? Was he telling the truth?

“Our dads were very much alike. They chose not to bring their work home. Their jobs were dangerous and they tried their best not to let it affect us.”

I wanted so desperately to remember. Just something, a tiny flash that told me that he was telling the truth. I gripped the edge of the table. “How do I know? How do I know you’re telling me the truth, and this isn’t just some ploy to take the club down?”

I saw anger flash in his face and his fists clench. “My dad had to live through one of his best friends being murdered. Your father and your mother died because of that fucking club.” He slammed his fist on the table. “The same club that you’ve been whoring yourself out to for the past few years!”

I pushed back from the table and stood sharply. “It’s not true! I know them! You have no idea who they are or what they stand for. They wouldn’t do that!”

He laughed, but it wasn't filled with amusement. It was dark. “You’re so fucking wrapped up in their president you can’t see past the fact that they are criminals—fucking murderers! How would your parents feel, knowing you’re sleeping with the men who took them away from you?”

“Shut up! Just shut up! You have no fucking right to speak for them,” I screamed.

“Whether you’re with me or not, the evidence doesn’t lie. I’ll fucking prove it and I’ll destroy them,” he sneered, his lip curled in disgust. “You’ll thank me when you know the truth.”

The rumble of motorcycles coming down the street filled the apartment. My body filled with relief and I didn’t care what he had to say. I gripped my hair in my hands.

I knew these men.

I knew this wasn’t them.

 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I knew it wouldn’t have taken long for word to get back to Optimus about gunshots at the gym. I glanced over at Deacon, who stood, arms folded in the middle of our little kitchen. I sighed and rubbed at my temples as I walked to the door.

I’d barely even flicked the lock when the door came swinging open, almost knocking me off my feet. My feet were off the floor before I had time to speak. One arm around my waist and a hand pressed against the back of my head.

“I got you, Blackbird,” he said quietly in my ear. “I got you.”

I clung to his leather, my body craving his smell, his touch, and his voice.

“Op, I’m okay,” I mumbled into his chest but at the same time I attempted to pull him even closer.

He lifted me off my feet, my legs unconsciously wrapping around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carried me further into the apartment. The heavy sound of boots followed us and I peeked over Op’s shoulder to see Leo, Blizzard, Slider and Ham fill the small space. The room was silent for a few minutes until Optimus slowly began to lower me to my feet.

It wasn’t long before he spun on Deacon. “What the fuck kind of shit are you into that you have people shooting up the front of your store?” he roared.

Obviously, he had no idea who had shot up the store and that they were actually there for me. “Op, that’s not it—”

“That’s rich considering they were after her, not me,” Deacon shot back. “Want to let me in on why the Italian Mafia has it out for Chelsea?”

Optimus stormed to him, but Deacon held his ground. I tried to get to them, but Leo held me back with two hands on my shoulders.

“And how the fuck would you know anything about the Italian Mafia,” Optimus growled, pointing at Deacon accusingly.

Deacon looked over Op’s shoulder with a smart ass smirk on his face. “He really hasn’t figured it out.”

Optimus gripped the front of Deacon’s shirt in his fists, lifted him off the ground and slammed him back against the door of my fridge. “I’m about five seconds away from putting a bullet in you myself if you don’t start talking—”

“Optimus, stop!” I yelled, trying to get away from Leo unsuccessfully.

“Five.”

I saw Deacon’s smug smirk as Op lowered him to the ground and reached into the waistband at the back of his jeans to pull out his piece. Deacon was just looking for an excuse to lock Optimus and the boys away. I wasn’t sure what his vendetta was, but he was about to get his wish.

“Four.”

“Optimus, don’t…please!” I pleaded.

“Three.”

“He’s a cop,” I yelled and Optimus froze instantly, turning his attention from the man in front of him back to me. My body sagged, but the relief was short-lived. “He’s a Goddamn cop.”

Deacon looked a little disappointed.

“Why the fuck are you hanging out with a cop, Chelsea?” he growled.

“I didn’t know until just before at the gym,” I said, my body completely exhausted and ready to crumble.

Optimus moved away from Deacon but kept his gun tucked in his hand. He watched him with only his eyes, even as his body moved into different angles.

“Get out,” he growled, gesturing for Deacon to use the door.

“No.” Deacon stood his ground, seemingly undisturbed by Optimus’ air of authority that filled the room.

“This has nothing to do with you,” Optimus told him, no longer letting his emotions control the situation. He was back to stern, and straight-faced. “You need to leave.”

“Chelsea works for me, and whether you like it or not, she’s my friend.” Deacon moved to walk around the table, but I threw myself in between them, pushing against his chest until he was back in the kitchen.

I heard a loud snort behind me. “Yeah sure,” Blizzard scoffed. “You’ve had a hard-on for Chelsea since well before she left the club. And you just conveniently had a job become available practically the day that she walked out on the club.”

“I knew there was something going down. She needed to be somewhere I could keep an eye on her since you all just seemed to let her go, knowing she was in trouble.”

Optimus stared him down, but Deacon didn’t waver. The room was silent for a long time until Optimus finally broke the tension, his words for me but his eyes still on Deacon.

“Chelsea. Bike. Now.”

I swallowed tightly but nodded. I knew I needed to go with him. As I took a step forward, I felt a hand tighten around my elbow. I sighed. “Deacon, it’s okay. I have to go with them.”

“No, you don’t. There’s other options, I can put you in protection until we figure out what’s going on.” His face was full of concern, concern for me and my safety.

I shook my head. “This isn’t your problem. It’s mine. They’re going to protect me, keep me safe.”

He coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, just like they did for the past week when you walked out and they left you, alone and with a target on your head.”

“She was never alone,” Optimus growled. “Chelsea, now.”

I disconnected myself from Deacon’s hold. I saw the pain in his face, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried about my safety or whether it was because there were feelings there that ran deeper than just friendship and I had just cut the ties. I didn’t even care that I was leaving him inside my empty house. God only knows where Rose was.

I grabbed my purse and pulled my shoes on at the door. Leo and Ham walked out in front of us and Optimus guided me out with a hand pressed to my lower back. Any other time the gesture would have seemed romantic or sweet, but I knew that his wasn’t either of those. It was a forceful push of someone who was no longer a friend, but possibly a threat.

Talking to cops was very much against the club's bylaws, even for club girls. And although I was no longer classed as a part of the club, there were things I knew about the club that if given to the police could lead to a shitstorm of epic proportions.

I felt Optimus’ hand leave my back. “Blizzard, take her.”

I spun, but Blizz quickly caught me with an arm around my shoulders and continued to walk me toward his bike. I caught a glimpse of Optimus heading back into the house.

“No!” I tried to wiggle out of Blizzard’s hold, but his other arm came around my chest and held me tight.

“Calm down, princess,” he whispered in my ear.

“He’s going to do something stupid, you have to stop him,” I argued as he pulled me backward.

Blizz tsked in my ear. “I thought you knew him so much better than that.” I heard the other bikes start just as a helmet was jammed on my head. “You’ve got other shit to worry about. Optimus is our president for a reason, have a little faith in him.”

I fought the urge to run.

But this time, I wasn’t running away from the problem, I wanted to run toward it.

“Get on,” Blizzard prompted me with a pat on my ass.

I stared at the house for a minute. There was nothing I could do now. I quickly buckled the helmet underneath my chin and gripped his shoulder as I threw my leg over the bike.

I hoped Blizzard was right.