Thorn: Sons of Devils MC Series Page 4

I shrug, “I guess.”

  “Then let’s hope he comes to his senses and comes back for you.”

  “If he doesn’t?” I release my death grip on the quilt.

  Thorn looks at me from under his lashes. There is a deafening silence in the room.

  “He won’t come back for me,” I tell the truth for the first time, and it burns. It stings deep inside me that I won’t be enough.

  “He’s running. He’s running from you. He’s running from his past. He won’t come back for me.” My lip tugs down at the reality of my words.

  “He’d be foolish to leave you here.” Thorn’s words cause fear to skitter down my back.

  “Why? If he doesn’t return, are you going to hurt me?” Or kill me? I don’t say the words out loud.

  Thorn gets up, and my heart rises along with him. Each step he takes closer to me allows the light to dance over his features. He’s all angles, and I know I should be afraid, but the growing bulge in his boxers makes me tighten my legs together. No one has ever made me react like this. I didn’t see many men who looked like Thorn.

  His large hand encases my cheek, and my traitorous body leans into his touch.

  “I wouldn’t leave you.” His words steal the air from my lungs, and I think I’ve heard him wrong when he bends down and captures my lips in his. His kiss is gentle but turns harsh and almost brutal, but I devour it like it’s air.

  My back hits the mattress, and the weight of Thorn on my body has me groaning as he nudges my legs apart. They fall away on their own accord, and his large erection brushes my core.

  “I want to fuck you so badly.” His words in my ear should make me want to stop. I didn’t sleep around. It wasn’t me, but once again, his words are fire through my veins, and I arch my back pushing myself closer to him.

  “Fuck, Brooke.” His kisses turn almost violent. His fingers work quickly at my trousers, and my core throbs at the thoughts of having him inside me.

  The ring of his cell brings me to the surface of what feels like a dream—a dream I don’t want to end.

  As the phone continues to ring, Thorn’s lips slide away from mine. The press of them against my neck has him groaning, and he climbs off of me. My breaths are harsh as I glance at Thorn, who grabs the phone off of his dresser and accepts the call. I can hear a male voice on the other end, but I can’t hear what is being said.

  “NO. NO. NO. Are you fucking kidding me?!”

  Thorn stands next to the bedroom door, pressing his forehead against the wood. When the man answers, Thorn balls his hand into a fist and smashes it through the wall.

  “Whoever is responsible is a fucking dead man!”

  I sit up and want to sink into the bed as Thorn grabs fresh clothes. He doesn’t say anything to me. It’s like he’s forgotten I’m here.

  I jump as he slams the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts and wondering what the hell is going on.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THORN

  TRENCH IS DEAD. This is the first time I’ve lost a man. Sitting on the couch, I hold my head in my hands and let out some of the grief of losing Trench and my bar that I had worked so fucking hard for. I can still hear the roar of the engines. I’m picturing those fuckers slowing down and withdrawing their guns to fire on us. Was it us or the Bastard Riders? That was the real question. Has any of this to do with Carter? Since he stole my money, everything seems to have gone to shit. I had checked Brooke’s phone, but there was nothing on it that helped me. I spent too much time going through her pictures of her.

  Running my hands through my hair, I push off the couch as the bedroom door opens slightly. My gaze immediately goes to my phone on the ground. Fear widens her eyes as she hangs onto the door.

  “Is everything okay?” Her words are low. Her tiny frame hovers close to the door, and something in me stirs. No doubt she’s out here because she thinks it’s something to do with her shithead of a brother.

  “Go to sleep.” I dismiss her, hoping she will just leave me alone. A part of me wants to hurt her as punishment for her brother's behavior, while another wants to touch her to finish what we started. When I glance back, she’s still standing at the fucking door.

  “My friend is dead because of your brother,” I lie, as I take a step towards her paling face. My gaze skims across the lumps that her top can’t hide. My hand rests on the door, and she cranes her neck back to look at me.

  She shakes her head and frowns. “I’m sorry.”

  I laugh at her useless words and push the bedroom door open. She takes a step back, and my eyes travel across her, slowly and purposely. The fear in her pretty eyes grows, and my cock gets hard.

  “Did you have something to do with it?” I ask as I take another step towards her, and she takes one back. I know she didn’t. My anger is misdirected.

  “What? No. I … I had no idea.” She wasn’t lying, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to see that fear grow. I don’t stop until her back hits the wall behind her. She glances at it before her gaze swings back to me.

  “Thorn.” The pleading in her tone has me blocking her off. Placing a hand on either side of her head.

  I lean in, and she turns her head to the side. “I had nothing to do with it.” She repeats. I study her face. Her left cheek is darker, the flesh under it slightly raised. I want to ask her what happened to her face. The mark doesn’t belong there.

  Ghost. I’ll have to ask him if he put his hands on her. I hate how much I don’t like the mark on her face. She flinches when I touch it. Her eyes dart back to me, and her breaths are heavy.

  I let my finger trail down her face, and she pushes herself further back against the wall. My cock grows harder, and I know if I don’t leave now, I won’t be able to control myself. She’s too much of a fucking temptation. Earlier she had wanted me fully, but now I can almost smell her fear.

  I push off the wall and grab fresh jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and my boots. I don’t look back until I’m at the door. She’s still against the wall as I close the door on her.

  Tugging on the jeans, a knock on the apartment door has me answering to Stone, who walks past me and into the space.

  “You weren’t answering your phone.” I close the door before pulling on the t-shirt. Scooping my phone off the floor, I turn it back on. It must have turned off when I threw it.

  “How’s his old lady?” I ask, scrubbing a hand across my face before sitting down on the couch.

  Stone sparks up a smoke before answering. “In fucking pieces. This is fucked up.” He blows smoke into the air.

  “Yeah, we need to find out who the target was.”

  Stone takes a long drag before going to the kitchen. “It was us.” He comes back with a small saucer that he uses as an ashtray.

  “Why else shoot up the bar?” He finishes.

  “We’ve been in that bar for months, Stone, and the first time it gets attacked, the Bastard Riders are in it.” Logic would tell me it wasn’t us.

  He shrugs. “Yeah, maybe.”

  I’m watching him as he inhales another deep drag. His gaze flickers around the space before it returns to me.

  “Did you get anything out of Brooke?”

  Why did he using her name piss me off? I sit back on the couch. Stone was my right-hand man, my friend. He was closer to me than I was to my own brothers. I was tired.

  “No. I got her phone, but she has nothing on it. She has no idea what her brother got her into. Did you spread the word that she’s being kept here?”

  Stone nods before putting out the smoke. He’s up again. “Yeah, I’ve spread the word.” He opens the fridge and takes out two beers. I take the one he offers me.

  “No sign of Carter?” I know there isn’t. If there were, he would be sitting in front of me now with all my fucking money.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, brother, but we might have to look at other options.”

  I’m already shaking my head, but my stomach tightens, and deep down, I know if I don�
�t get that money soon, I won’t have an option. I tighten my hands into fists.

  “We still have time,” I say before drinking down the beer. In the silence, I can hear Brooke move around. She could be listening at the door to us.

  “She in your room?” Stone asks without looking at me as he sparks up another smoke.

  His grin grows as he blows smoke into the air. “She’s hot.” He adds before gulping down his beer.

  “I’ve other things on my mind,” I lie easily. Brooke is fucking gorgeous, but right now, I just need to keep my head straight on my shoulders, especially with the shit storm we were in.

  “How bad is the bar?” I ask Stone to change the topic. I hadn’t been back.

  “It’s fucked up.”

  I finish my beer before pulling on my socks and boots. “Can you stay here and keep an eye on her?” I jerk my chin towards the bedroom.

  “Yeah, sure.” Stone doesn’t sound elated.

  “I’ll get Ghost to meet me down at the bar.”

  I take one final look at the bedroom door before grabbing my jacket and pulling it on.

  The bar is only a few blocks away. The ride at night is nice. I don’t contact Ghost until I pull up outside the bar. Taking out my phone, I shoot him a text to meet me here.

  Turning off the engine, I climb off the bike and walk up to the door. Yellow banners warning not to enter cover the door. I rip them off and push the keys into the door before entering. Glass crunches under my boots. I don’t know what I expected to find here, but it was nothing but destruction. Blood still stains the hardwood floor.

  Small, numbered tags are placed around the space beside the blood, some bullet holes, also.

  I tense when I hear the roar of an engine in the distance. As it gets closer, I know it’s Ghost. Each engine has a distinct sound. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the rattle of his exhaust that I’ve told him so many times he needs to tighten.

  The noise stops, and a few minutes later, Ghost enters. He doesn’t look like he was sleeping. His eyes are wide, and I’m questioning if he’s high on something. His irises dilate under the lighting of the bar.

  The mark on Brooke’s face springs to mind, and I glance at his hands that are clad in leather.

  “Any word on your mate, Carter?” The bite, in my words, has him wiping his nose as he steps deeper into the bar.

  He shakes his head. “Are you on something?” I ask, taking a step closer to him. He snorts before standing taller.

  “Just having some fun, Thorn.”

  I nod and step up to him. “Did you put your hands on Brooke?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah, she’s fucking lippy, and I needed to knock her out.”

  I have to walk away from him and remind myself he’s one of the crew—my brother in all of this.

  “Don’t put your hands on her again,” I say.

  He doesn’t answer me, and I’m not in the mood to repeat myself. “You hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. I won’t touch her again.” He sounds pissed, but I don’t give a fuck.

  “I thought I heard you girls talking.”

  This night just went from bad to worse. Ash looks so fucking much like Da that I hate looking at him.

  His dark eyes swing around the space, and he lets out a long whistle. “Thank fuck I wasn’t here.” His grin lands on me.

  “We lost Trench.” I want to wipe the smirk right off his face.

  His grin dissolves. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” He had the respect to lose his smile.

  “What do you want?” I didn’t want him here.

  “Ma is shaken up, so I thought I’d take a walk and see if I could spot something.” Ash turns to Ghost.

  “I’m Ash, Thorn’s big brother.”

  Ghost nods and pushes his hands into his jeans pockets. “You can go now,” I say to Ghost, not wanting this to get ugly in front of him. I can see it in Ash’s eyes; he won’t make this easy on me. Ma thinks he will just accept the job as a Prospect. Like fuck he will.

  “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” I want to reinforce my earlier warning about him not putting his hands on Brooke, but I didn’t want to speak about her in front of Ash.

  “Why are you back?” I ask the moment Ghost’s engine starts.

  Ash looks away from me. He’s grown his hair out. The dark strands are tied at the nape of his neck. The checkered shirt on his back looks like he came from a nine to five factory job.

  “I missed it.”

  I sneer at him. “Such fucking lies.” My anger starts to bubble up inside me. Three years of holding back, three years of wanting this moment with Ash. Three fucking years and he returns now.

  “I don’t have to prove myself to you.” He doesn’t look put out by me at all as he glances around the bar like it’s not shot to fucking pieces.

  “Yeah, you do. I’m the president of the MC, and if you want in, you’re starting at the bottom as a Prospect.” I take a step towards him. Yeah, he was older and bigger, but I was fueled with rage that I wanted to unleash on him.

  “A Prospect?” His laughter rings out around us, and I stuff my curled fists into my jeans before I lash out at the arrogant bastard.

  “Get the fuck out of my bar.”

  His laughter is cut off, and angry dark eyes shine with violence. “Come the fuck on.” I take my hands out of my jeans and widen my arms. “Take a swing.” I want him to. I want to hurt him so badly.

  He stares me down before he looks away. “I better get back to Ma.” He turns away, and I sneer at his back. “Yeah, run, that’s all you ever fucking do.”

  He’s in my face, his anger ripples off him, and I match his step.

  “You left our da to die. You’re a fucking coward.” The silence is deafening as he seems to grow in front of me. His fist smashes into my face, and I reel back. Blood rushes to my nose before it pours down my face.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it!” I shout while smiling.

  He’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to do this.” He holds up his hands, and I charge. I get three punches in before he swings and knocks me back.

  “Stop, Thorn.” His warning fuels me, and I dance closer to him before taking another swing for his face. He dodges my punch and swings at me, clipping my chin. The pain radiates across my face and fuels my anger. This time I hit him square in the face two more times. I don’t stop until I see blood.

  “I’m not fighting you.” He spits blood onto the floor. His teeth turn red as more liquid floods from his mouth. I don’t get another hit in before he leaves. I’m still pumped; I’d dreamed about landing a punch to his face. The satisfaction doesn’t last long.

  The brandy burns my cut lip as I gulp it down. I stay for a while longer and start to sweep up the broken glass. My face aches as I lock up the bar a while later. The sun is setting as I climb onto my bike. My mind skips to the shooting, and not for the first time. I wonder if Ash’s appearance and the shooting at the bar are related.

  I know that shit is far-fetched, but I can’t help but consider it. He ran after Da died, and now he returns, and our club is in disarray. I slow down as I pull up close to the apartment building. A quick movement catches my eye, and I curse her name under my breath. She has climbed out of the bedroom window, and I watch her as she lets go of the window sill and drops down two floors.

  Fuck

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BROOKE

  THE MOMENT I land on the ground, I feel the burn along my ankle.

  Fuck.

  Glancing back up, I’m expecting to see Stone hanging out the window, but it’s empty. The curtains flow in the slight breeze, and I’ve wasted enough time. I move, but the burn has me pausing. I can sense that I’m being watched.

  I look up and into Thorn’s inky eyes, and I know I’ve messed up, but it doesn’t stop me from racing across the lawn. It doesn’t stop me from trying to escape—my ankle rebels at each harsh step I take. I know I don’t have a chance even before I land heavily on the grass.

 
“What are you doing?” His growl is a contradiction to the softness of his touch. I try to pull away, but the burn that travels far too quickly up my leg tells me I might have done worse than sprain my ankle.

  “Get off me!” If I thought shouting would help, I’d scream at the top of my lungs.

  I’m airborne and come eye to eye with Thorn.

  “You could have broken your neck.” His words are growled as he carries me back towards the apartment block.

  He punches the code in, and the door opens for him. He keeps taking glances at me, and I’ve resisted touching him but feel unbalanced, so I lace my arms around his neck. The moment my hands touch his neck, a warmth flushes my cheeks.

  “I can walk.” I lie, but this feels too intimate. His cologne surrounds me, and when his dark gaze impacts with mine, I try to squirm out of his arms.

  “Stop it, Brooke.” His arms tighten around me as he climbs the stairs. “I saw you fall. I also saw you hobble. So, just stay still.”

  I do, and it feels like an eternity until we clear the landing.

  Stone’s head snaps up as we enter the apartment. There’s a look of oh-shit on his face. I’d feel some level of victory, but my ankle continues to burn and throb.

  “What the fuck?” He rises.

  “I got it.” Thorne sounds pissed. It sounds different than when he growls at me. The moment I’m on the couch, Thorne releases me.

  Stone still hasn’t left.

  “I said, I got it.” Thorne’s tone isn’t as harsh, and he slaps Stone on the arm. The interaction has Stone leaving the apartment.

  “I’ve seen some stupid shit in my time.” Thorn’s voice drifts away, and I try to move my foot. Heat races up my leg, and I hiss.

  I’ve closed my eyes, but they spring open at his touch. Thorn removes my shoe and drags off my sock before sitting down and placing my leg in his crotch that feels hard.

  I close my eyes again as he presses the ice pack against my leg. The coldness burns for a moment before the throbbing starts to fade slowly.

  “What were you thinking?” Thorn asks again.