Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) Page 6

  I hold her to me, noting her shaking body and quivering bottom lip.

  “Princess, what’s wrong?” I question her. Madelaine, or Maddi as she’s known to almost everyone, is Beast’s only daughter and Joel’s big sister. She’s a tough, gracious woman who’s survived some serious shit over the years. Shit that’s just decided to rear its ugly head again.

  Raising her head, she brushes her long blonde hair out of her face, looking at JJ and then at me inquiringly. She doesn’t answer my question.

  My girl wants to talk privately by the looks of it.

  “Princess, this is JJ. She was Joel’s surgeon, remember? JJ, this is Maddi, Joel’s big sister.” I perform the necessary introductions, my argument with JJ forgotten now that Maddi needs me.

  “Hi, JJ. Nice to meet you. Timber says you’ve been taking excellent care of Joel for us. I know you’ve been keeping Timber here company as well while he keeps my brother safe. Thank you so much.” Maddi pushes aside her upset to thank JJ and to get to know her for my sake.

  It’s typical of her to put her own needs after everyone else’s.

  I squeeze her waist in thanks.

  After Mad Dog and Benji’s punch-up yesterday, I’d told her what happened between JJ and me, and she’d encouraged me to chase her if I liked her.

  JJ, on the other hand, looks like she swallowed a mouthful of lemon juice. She sniffs at Maddi. “It’s nothing. Just doing my job.”

  Dismissing Maddi, she turns her pissed-off eyes to me. “I’ll leave you two alone. I have rounds to complete. Have a great day, Lucas.”

  Without so much as another glance my way, JJ leaves the room, shutting the door with a bang behind her.

  “She likes you, and she’s jealous. She thinks we’re together, you big lug. You need to set her straight,” Maddi tells me off once the echoing from the slamming door subsides.

  Slapping my chest, she leans back into my arms, falling silent.

  I don’t answer her straightaway, instead spending a minute or so drinking in the sight of her in my arms, and enjoying the feel of her body against mine.

  Her hair is golden blonde. It falls to her curvy ass, setting off electric blue eyes and a face that could make an angel cry. She’s tall, with a luscious rack that’s balanced out perfectly by hips you could hold tight as you slammed yourself balls deep into her, and long tanned legs.

  I’ve wanted her since she was sixteen, and I would have pursued her except my lifelong best friend, Mad Dog, has loved her for just as long, and she’s head over heels for him, not me.

  I’ll only ever be her best friend, which is a mantle I only took when Mad Dog vacated it when he made her his woman.

  My feelings for her are my closest-held secret. A secret I’ll take to my grave. I hope.

  Finally pulling my eyes away from her, I notice that she’s staring at me, close to tears again.

  “What’s wrong, Princess?” I ask.

  Her rose-pink bottom lip trembles as she answers. “Mik isn’t speaking to me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think we’re going to get through what happened this time. Not with Dad stirring trouble, and Brendan still out there.”

  I’d be lying to myself if I said my heart didn’t jump with joy at her words. I could turn this situation in my favor quite easily, but my conscience wouldn’t shut the fuck up if I did.

  Mad Dog and Maddi are perfect for each other, and as much as I want her, I won’t take her using underhanded tactics. If they split on their own terms, then she becomes fair game, but not until then.

  “He’s just pissed at what went down with Benji. He’ll get over it. You two’ll be all right. I promise. And don’t you worry about Beast. Mad Dog and I’ll deal with him.”

  The words taste like acid on their way out of my mouth, but they’re the truth so I force myself to say them.

  Pulling her tighter into my chest, I rock her until the silent tears stop.

  Once she has herself under control, she moves from my lap into the chair next me.

  My arms feel empty without her.

  “So, Lucas, what’s the deal with you and the beautiful doctor?” she pries with a big grin.

  The grin is fake—her way of letting me know she doesn’t want to talk about her problems anymore.

  “I told you. We fucked, and then we argued.” She nods. “Well, we finally spoke about it just before you arrived. She says we can’t see where it will go because her fucking daddy won’t approve.”

  I stress the word “daddy” and Maddi wrinkles her nose. She’s only twenty-three, but even she doesn’t call Beast “daddy” anymore. She stopped that shit when she was about twelve, like a normal girl.

  “She really said that?”

  “Yep.”

  “That sucks. You two looked really good together when I barged in. Although, I did think she was about to hit you, so you should be thanking me, since I saved you from a beating.” She sticks out her tongue at me when I roll my eyes at her. It’s Maddi’s signature response to all of us, but she dislikes being on the receiving end of it. “In all seriousness, I’m so sorry that I interrupted. I didn’t know who else to turn to. I hope you two work it out.”

  I shrug off her apology, telling her with heat, “I don’t care what I’m doing, or where I am. If you need me, you come to me. You hear?”

  “I hear ya, Timber.”

  “Good. Don’t ever forget it.”

  Our conversation is brought to an end when Beast, Mad Dog, and the rest of Maddi’s brothers arrive. Their noisy conversations fill the room, but I don’t engage with them, choosing to sit in my chair and mull over my argument with JJ and Maddi’s thoughts about it.

  I’m at a loss. I don’t have a clue what to do with JJ.

  It’s been a few days, but I already know that I like her. And when we’re not arguing, we get along pretty well. She’s beautiful—in a less obvious way to Maddi—but definitely beautiful in her own right. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since we fucked, and that’s unusual for me.

  For the last few years, I haven’t been able to see any woman other than Maddi.

  Is a woman whose hell bent on running from whatever’s starting between us worth chasing after? And is it fair to pursue her when I’d jump at a chance with Maddi, if she and Mad Dog do end up breaking up?

  JJ

  Present Day

  After reading Lucas’s curt reply to my text, I burst into tears.

  I’m not normally a crier, but this entire night has thrown one bullshit thing after the other at me. His refusal to come over is the final straw.

  Wiping away my tears, I push my phone away from me and harness my growing anger toward every man who’s thrown shit my way today. First Ollie and his lies; then my father and his bullying; and finally Lucas and his ultimatum.

  Each one of them is trying to make me do what they want me to do, and it’s not fair.

  I feel like a five-year-old child for whining that it’s not fair, but I’m just about ready to stamp my feet and tell them all to go fuck themselves.

  Except I won’t.

  I’ve never been able to stand up for myself with anyone who matters, although I do a better job with Lucas than I do with anyone else.

  Why I feel comfortable to tell him how I feel, I don’t know. But I do, and that’s a positive change.

  Damn Lucas.

  I’ve never been drawn to a man like him, and I don’t like it. He makes me spin out of control, makes me rethink the strict path I’ve kept my life headed along, and worst of all, he makes me question my need to make my parents happy—especially my father.

  Months ago, he told me that this is my life and that I need to do what makes me happy—that I’m in charge of my own life. That was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me. Everyone I know is as consumed by their career and what’s expected from them as I am. We’re all chasing big dreams, some of us doing so at the expense of our own happiness.

  The only people I know who
do as they please and seem to be happy, are Lucas and the members of his Club—most of whom I’ve met over the last six months.

  Actually, scratch that; most of his Club seem to be happy doing as they please. Lucas, on the other hand, isn’t completely happy. He can tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I’ve watched him with Maddi over these past months, and I’ve seen him tying himself in knots. He’s caught between his growing feelings for me and his desire to chase after Maddi regardless of what it does to his relationship with Mad Dog.

  For the second time tonight, I bang my head against my dining table.

  I’ve just admitted to myself what I’ve been trying my hardest to avoid.

  Lucas has feelings for me.

  I’ve known the whole time that he does—it’s just been easier to concentrate on his feelings for Maddi. To use that as an excuse to shoot down his constant suggestions to see where this thing between us could go.

  By denying him, using my flimsy justifications, I can avoid confronting my father.

  It’s my version of having my cake and eating it too.

  The tinkling of smashing glass interrupts my lovelorn thoughts.

  Jumping to my feet, I grab my phone and switch on the flashlight.

  I’ve been licking my wounds for so long that my house is dark, the only light being thrown by the TV in the living room.

  I live in a nice area. It’s affluent with next to no crime, so the sound was probably nothing more than someone in one of the neighboring townhouses breaking something. Our houses are close enough that I can hear my over-sexed, middle-aged neighbor jerking himself off in the shower most mornings. An involuntary shudder races through me when I think about the performance he put on this morning.

  When the sound of my back door being opened breaks the silence that followed the breaking glass, I dial emergency services on my phone. I might be going crazy, but it sounds like someone’s trying to get into my comfy, cozy house.

  “Police. Fire. Ambulance.”

  “Police. Quickly,” I whisper into my phone as I dart toward my bedroom.

  My plan is to lock myself in my ensuite until help arrives.

  It’s foiled when I see a large, dark figure entering my bedroom as I’m turning the corner from my dining area into my short hallway. I’m barefoot, so I don’t think they heard me approaching through the padding offered by my lush carpet.

  My heart pounds in my chest as I listen with one ear for the intruder to start heading my way.

  I don’t hear a thing, thankfully.

  Deciding on a new course of action, I start backing away.

  A high-pitched shriek leaves me when I hit a broad, warm chest.

  “I’d stop right there, little lady.” Warm breath blows over my head as a rough voice menaces me. I’m about to lower my phone from my ear when the operator speaks.

  “State your emergency?”

  A hard, cylindrical object is pushed against my kidneys, making me freeze.

  Is that a gun?

  “Tell them it’s a mistake.”

  I shake my head, and they prod me harder in the back.

  “Do it, bitch. Right fucking now.”

  My legs are shaking as is the hand holding my phone. My mind’s gone blank, and I can’t think of anything I can do to help myself in this situation. I’ve never had a physical altercation in my life. The most danger I’ve ever faced has been at the end of my father’s sharp tongue and his leather belt, and that wasn’t adequate preparation for circumstances like this.

  “Ma’am. Please state your emergency,” the operator asks again.

  Licking my dry lips, and with the stark reminder of my situation pressed against my back, I find the ability to answer. “I’m sorry, it’s, um, nothing. I thought I heard something, but it was nothing.”

  “Ma’am, are you all right? You sound scared.”

  “I’m fine. I just scared myself. Bye, now.” I hang up the phone, but keep holding it to my ear as if its mere presence is going to keep me safe from what’s about to happen.

  My phone’s ripped from my hand and thrown on the floor before the intruder stomps it with a heavy boot. The crunching sound as its obliterated draws the second intruder out of my bedroom, his covered face pointed toward us.

  “That her?”

  The person behind me swings me around to face them, grabbing my chin with force. The gloves he’s wearing soften his harsh grip just enough to make it bearable. His face is covered like the other man’s. All I can see is his nose and angry brown eyes.

  “You Timber’s bitch?”

  Well, that answers the main question running through my head. Why is someone breaking into my house?

  Because I’m fucking an outlaw biker appears to be the answer. Stupid, stupid me for thinking I could ignore the dangers of his alternative lifestyle.

  Shaking my head in answer, my hope that they might leave if I can convince them it’s a case of mistaken identity are shattered when the man holding my chin replies.

  “Yeah, you are. You’re the bitch from the hospital. I remember you.”

  What the hell?

  Is this someone from Lucas’s Club? I’ve been vaguely aware of the problems they’ve been having over the last few months, but I haven’t paid too much attention to details. I’ve been friendly from a distance when he’s taken me to events, uninterested in getting to know any of them very well.

  The only things I know for sure about the Black Shamrocks is that Lucas has had to leave me without warning sometimes for “Club Business”, and that Joel was discharged from rehab after about eight weeks. Apart from seeing him a few times at the Clubhouse, I haven’t followed up with his progress. I don’t know what he was like before his injuries, but he’s now a very cold, closed-off person who quite frankly scares the crap out of me.

  Letting go of my chin, he motions me toward my front door with his gun.

  “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You can walk out of here without making a fucking scene, or I can knock you out and carry your skinny ass.”

  The gravity of my situation finally sinks in.

  With a loud scream, I dodge around him, dashing for my front door.

  I need to get out of here. I need to find someone to help me.

  “The hard way it is.” He grunts as he sweeps out one of his long legs and trips me. I fall face-first onto the carpet with a loud oomph.

  Before I can right myself, he straddles my back. Yanking my head back with a handful of hair, he jams a damp cloth over my face. The sickly, sweet smell that overcomes me tells me that it’s ether. My stomach rolls. A million thoughts fight for acknowledgement in my addled mind.

  The last thought I’m aware of before darkness obliterates everything is that my father is going to kill me if I’m not at the meeting he demanded in the morning.

  ***

  The constant dripping sound is annoying me. I’m trying my hardest to ignore it, but I can’t. After waking up on a ratty, smelly, single bed in a dark, damp room, I’ve been sitting curled into a ball on the bed. My head faces the entrance, my back jammed into the corner furthest from the locked, steel door—the door that offers my only escape from this room.

  I’ve been too scared to move, so apart from a quick inspection of the room where I discovered the entry into the dirtiest bathroom I’ve ever seen, I’ve maintained my position on the disgusting bed. Nausea still threatens me from the ether they used to render me unconscious. My joints ache from the men’s rough treatment of me.

  Apart from that, I’m okay.

  I’m still clad in the black yoga tights and racer-back singlet that I was wearing when they took me from my house, and they’re not offering much in the way of warmth in this cold room. There’s a tattered blanket folded on the end of the bed, but I’m loath to give into the warmth I might receive from it. Who knows when it was washed last?

  There’s one window in the room, but it’s too high for me to look through. The small rays of sunli
ght filtering in make me aware that it’s morning. I’ve been here all night, so hopefully my absence from work has been noted. I never take sick days, let alone not appear at work without phoning, so someone should have raised the alarm about my no-show.

  That thought is the only thing keeping me from completely losing it.

  “Let go of me, you dumb fuckers.”

  An angry, familiar, feminine voice breaks through the repressive silence. The door to my room rattles before it’s thrown open, slamming into the wall next to it.

  Two big men dressed in black jeans and dark hoodies wrestle an agitated, blonde woman through the doorway. She’s putting up much more of a fight than I did, and shame threatens to drown me. I wish I’d tried to fight them when they were in my house last night.

  I don’t see exactly how she does it, but she manages to kick one of the men in the face with a roundhouse kick before she punches the other in the face and knees him in the balls. The first guy is barely rising to his feet as the second hits the floor. The woman’s about to run from the room when she catches a glimpse of me from out of the corner of her eye.

  She stops dead, spinning around to face me.

  “Oh, JJ. How long have you been here?” Maddi brushes the strands of her long hair that have escaped from the knot on top of her head out of her face. Then she calmly walks over to me, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to me.

  What is she doing here? And why did she stop when she saw me instead of running?

  She could have escaped.

  The two men she injured are still picking themselves up from the floor when an emaciated-looking woman with straw-like, bleach-blonde hair walks in with a handsome man I’m sure I know, but can’t place.

  Maddi groans rudely at the two new people, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at me. She’s very calm for a woman who’s sitting on a disgusting bed, in the grossest room I’ve ever seen, against her will.

  Holding her hand in front of her face, she makes a show of checking out her long, painted nails before she brings it to her face to shield an obviously fake yawn.