Arrow's Hell (Wind Dragons MC #2)(33)

Her eyes flash in understanding. “Trust me, your brother loves you more than anyone. I think he just took a little time testing the waters, hoping that you would stick around in this crazy place with these crazy-ass people.”

We both laugh.

“He told me he didn’t want you to leave again, so he was stuck between wanting to show you the man he is now and not wanting you to cut him out of your life if you saw something you didn’t like,” she explains further.

“He should know me better than that,” I mumble.

Faye shrugs her shoulders. “You were gone awhile. Time changes people.”

She could say that again.

“I love my brother, and I guess I was acting a little possessive,” I say, when the realization hits me. “Great, I’m more like him than I want to admit.”

Faye laughs at that. “As the president’s old lady, I take care of all my guys. I think half of them already love you, and I hope you stick around. It’s good to have a woman to spar with, one who can take my hits and return them full force.”

I smirk. “Women bonding over violence, what a great pair we are.”

“Biker women, baby, we have to be tough,” she says. “If we’re not, we end up being treated like her.” She cocks a thumb at Jill, still knocking on Arrow’s door.

“Fuck off!” I hear him bellow.

Faye and I cringe.

Jill starts crying.

Just my first official day in the biker clubhouse.





TEN

ARROW paces the game room of the clubhouse, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I should be there with them.”

“Why aren’t you?” I ask, lifting the pool cue off the table after playing my shot.

He scoffs. “I’m not letting history repeat itself.”

He downs some Scotch. I almost want to tell him that if anything did happen right now, he’d be too drunk to do anything about it.

Instead, I bite my tongue.

Blade, one of the prospects, walks in and whispers something to Arrow, who nods. I haven’t really spoken to any of the three prospects, and they don’t seem too eager to get to know me either.

“Hello, Blade,” I say, trying to be friendly.

Blade looks to Arrow quickly, before nodding his head at me. “Anna.”

Arrow narrows his eyes on him. “Don’t you have work to do?”

I scowl at Arrow and speak as soon as Blade leaves the room. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

His answer is to drink some more.

Jill and Allie walk in, their own drinks in their hands, and stand on either side of Arrow. I don’t take my eyes off Allie, who I can tell is a little tipsy. But when she puts her hand on Arrow’s chest, I’ve had enough. I look at Arrow, and it’s him I speak to. “Get that whore’s hand off your chest right now, Arrow, before I break it.”

He glances down as if only just realizing Allie is touching him, then quickly shrugs off her hand. “The f*ck,” he rumbles. “If you think I would ever touch a brother’s woman, you don’t f*ckin’ know me at all. Now get out of here!” He looks at Jill and sneers, his upper lip curling. “Both of you.”

I swallow hard as they leave, then step forward to make my exit.

“Stay,” he demands, not even bothering to look at me.

He wants me to stay, by asking me like that and in that tone?

Riiiggghhht.

I storm past him and into my room. I’m about to close the door when he pushes himself inside. “You don’t know how to listen, do you?”

“I listen just fine, thank you. I just don’t see why the hell I have to listen to you. Now, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed, so I’m asking you kindly to f*ck off.”

He blinks at me, and then I see his lip twitch.

It pisses me off even more.

“I really don’t see what’s so amusing,” I say, sitting on my bed and glaring up at him. Instead of storming out of my room as I’d hoped, he sits on the floor by my feet. “And do you talk to all women like that?”

I didn’t even like Allie or Jill, but still.

“Most women don’t talk back to me. I guess it amuses me that you do it at every turn,” he replies, pausing. “And I’d never talk to you like that, Anna, so no, I don’t talk to all women like that.”

He leans his head back on the mattress, and I can’t help but let my hand reach out and feel his hair. When he moans, I massage his scalp and continue to run my fingers through his thick, silky hair.

“Feels so good,” he says quietly, followed by a contented sigh. “What is it about you?”

“I could ask you the same question,” I mutter, continuing my administrations. “How much longer am I stuck here with you?”

“I’m not that bad,” he says, reaching his hand out and casually resting it on my thigh. My body tingles with just that simple touch, and I both want and don’t want him to reach his hand up higher.

“You’re not that good either,” I say, remembering our previous conversation.

“No, I guess I’m not. Tonight I will be though.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about, but when he gets up and lifts my blanket, sliding under my sheets, my eyes widen. “You can’t sleep here.”