Saving Dancer (Savage Brothers MC #2)(12)

“Oh for Christ’s sake, I won’t bother the bitch. I’m going to lock the doors, grab a bite to eat and sleep. I won’t say two damn words to her. Now quit being a prick and let me in.”

He backs up to give me room to get in. I walk by him and scan the combined living and kitchen area. It’s separated by a small half wall and then open where the table and chairs are. Carrie is sitting there and her face goes pale and white when she sees me. I know it makes me a sadistic f*ck, but I can’t help but enjoy seeing how uncomfortable I make her.

“Looks like I missed dinner,” I say my eyes locking on Carrie’s. She holds my look for about half a beat and then looks back down. Why does that make me feel like I’ve won something? I could almost smile.

Bull grunts. “I’ll call Nailer.”

He takes out his phone and it pisses me off. Obviously I’m twisted up even more than I realized.

“Knock it off, Bull. I’m not going to say shit to her. Go back up our boy.”

“Red? You gonna be okay?” Bull asks ignoring me.

This f*cker is obviously *-whipped. Maybe it’s the younger *?

“I’m fine, Bull. I’m getting ready to go to bed anyway,” she says. Her voice has always been quieter than others. Almost meek and soothing, it’s like a lullaby. I used to love to listen to her and Jazz chatter for hours. The memory of that rings clear before I lock it down.

“I still think I should call Drag first,” Bull obstinately continues.

For a second my chest gets a punch of adrenaline. If Bull does that he’ll know I’m lying my ass off and Carrie will know it too. I don’t even know why the hell I’m doing it myself, I’m not ready to try and explain it to anyone else.

“Bull, please? I don’t’ want to make a scene and tonight is important to Dragon. Just go, I’ll be fine. Jacob… He won’t hurt me.”

“Red? You call me if you need me for anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says with a smile, while Bull puts on his cut. I can see the fear in her eyes. It’s f*cked up, but I like it. It’s like my body has come alive, as if I’m a hunter and oh yeah, I’m definitely smelling blood now.

Bull turns to me as he opens the door.

“Motherf*cker, one wrong move and I’ll make you sorry you were ever born,” he growls.

I thought about telling him he’s about thirty-five years too late. At the very least, he’s a little over two years too late. I don’t though. I shrug and watch as he slams the door behind him.

I wait the space of a heartbeat and then turn my attention to Carrie. Her big green eyes are caught in mine and her skin is definitely lily white now.

“Having fun playing house with the bad boy biker, Princess?”

She closes her eyes and looks down at her lap. My eyes follow and I see she’s wringing her hands tight. My lips jerk a little, not quite a smile but definitely a hint of one.

“I don’t remember you being so timid around me before, Princess,” I say, lounging against the door now, my arms crossed at my chest.

“You didn’t hate me in the past. I’m going to go take a bath and call it a night. Sorry you got stuck with me,” she says, without bothering to look up. She gets up from the table, still looking at the ground.

“I don’t hate you Carrie, not most of the time. You shouldn’t have been there that night,” I confess, a dose of honesty pushing its way through my lips.

“I know. If I could take it back, I would, Jacob.”

“All of it?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Would it matter?” She asks instead of answering and the anger that is coiled tight in my stomach heats.

I resent her not giving me an answer. I want to know what exactly she would change. Why? Fuck if I know. I want to know if she still has those feelings though, if what Dragon says is true. I want her to admit it.

I should let her go. It’d be better for both of us. I don’t.

“I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?” I ask, wondering if she’ll tell me to get it myself.

“I made a casserole,” she says finally looking up at me. Were her green eyes always so deep in color?

“Sounds good. You got beer too?” I ask, walking over to the table and sitting down. It’s a dick move and I think I see a flare of irritation in her eyes, but she doesn’t tell me to go f*ck myself. I almost find it disappointing. She takes a few minutes and brings me a plate and a beer.

She starts to walk out of the room when I stop her.

“Always did hate eating alone.”

“Jacob, we both know you don’t want me anywhere around you,” she answers. She doesn’t sit down, but she doesn’t immediately leave the room either.

I take a bite of the casserole. Chicken. It’s pretty good actually.

“Where’d you learn to cook?”

“I’ve always cooked, my mother taught me how,” she responds, and the blush on her face is kind of cute, even if I am getting ready to be a dick to her.

“Why bother when you had chefs to do that shit?”

“We never had chefs, Jacob. We never had any servants.”

“Who was Velma?”

She looks confused for a minute.

“She is family.”