The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1)(22)
“There’s a hit out on you, Calla.”
I say it without warning, giving nothing to soften the blow. I sit here and watch her shake, her face contorting into a look of astonishment and confusion, making me feel like I’ve been kicked in the teeth.
“The man who killed my father found out about you a few years back, and he’s been looking for you ever since. He knows you’re the one thing he can break me with. The only person left who I truly care about. He wants you dead.”
She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, then she closes it just as quickly.
“I have a rat in my club, someone who told this shady, no good * about you, and I haven’t been able to find out who. I’ve had everyone in this place followed, had everyone checked out. You name it, I have done it, and I’ve come up with nothing. Not a damn thing. I’m no closer to finding out today than I was a few years ago when this all came to light. That’s why when you showed up I decided to keep you here, where I can be the one to take care of you and not Manny.”
Her look of disgust tells me she already knows he’s been watching her for me. I can’t be angry with him, though; I owe him more than anyone for taking care of her and keeping her safe. He’s reported to me daily about her every move; however, now that Calla is here, I will be telling him to stay out of my business. The little shit is trustworthy, but he needs to keep his big mouth shut more often.
“So you found out about Manny. I know you better than you think, so I’m not going to get into it right now with you, but now you know why I have so much information about you. I did what I had to do to make sure no one located you, and he’s the only one I f*cking trust.”
I harden my voice when I continue, demanding her full attention.
“Now, here’s the part where you really need to listen to every word I say, and I am not screwing around about it anymore. You don’t have to want to be here, but you’re going to be. You may as well get used to seeing a lot of me. It’s the way it’s going to be, whether you like it or not. I get the fact that you have no clue how shit works around here. Like I said before, I don’t do drugs. I loathe them. They’re the reason that f*cker killed my dad and Darcy. There’s also a lot of women who hang out here. They like the bikes, they like the men. They respect us. We respect them. We f*ck. No strings attached, unless someone makes it that way. I’ve been with every one of them.”
My organs all just about stop working when more tears fall down her face, but I have to push on.
“We’re an organization. A club. A private bar. Anyone can join as long as they don’t do drugs, don’t start fights, and don’t try and screw around with anyone’s wife. They pay their dues and drink my booze. It’s as simple as that. That’s the way I want it. And that’s the way I need it.”
She’s so quiet, which is very unlike her. I wanted her to know the truth; well, the truth about this club. We are who we are now. Most of the people here are innocent, normal, hardworking Americans who love the thrill of the throttle between their legs. Nothing more, just the sweet relief of all-American freedom.
“You need to act like you want to be here. Pretend like you and I are trying to work through our shit. And stand by my side. My world is a hell of a lot different from the world you’ve been living in. When I say do something, you don’t ask any questions, you just do it. If by chance I have to leave, you come with me. You get what I’m saying?”
Wrinkles of angry shock crease her forehead.
“You have got to be shitting me!”
“Damn it, Calla. That right there is exactly what I’m talking about. You need to learn when to speak and when to shut the hell up. These people are just regular people. They leave their marriage problems at home. The men come here to get away from an argument they may have just had with their wife or girlfriend. What part of what I’m telling you don’t you understand?” My hands go up in the air in frustration.
“I don’t understand why I can’t say what I want. Are we not alone in here? And you say you’re a club. A respected one, I assume. So what’s the deal? Do women not have the same rights around here? Do they just sit around with their tails tucked between their legs, waiting to be told what to do? I mean, what is it?”
“I don’t care if we’re alone or not. What the hell do I need to do to make you understand this is some serious shit you’ve gotten yourself into? You should have never come here. Not until I summoned you.”
“Summoned me? What the hell are you, some kind of dominant? I may get into kink, but you will never summon me to do shit. You don’t scare me. I want out of here. I want my purse back. I want to call my parents. Mom and I talk every day and she has to be going out of her mind by now.”
God, the mouth on her. If I wasn’t trying to help her, I would let her run her mouth all damn day and say whatever the hell she wanted. But until I get this figured out, she needs to shut the hell up. Word will get out that she’s here, and I can’t afford to let anyone think I’m weak. And when it comes to Calla, I’m so f*cking weak, it’s pathetic. The mole could have heard every damn word that went down between Manny, myself, and Calla on that path. Fuck, I have no clue.
My blood pressure is rising. My ass shoots up out of the chair and I take the few steps needed to get to her. Her face turns to panic. If she doesn’t want to listen, then by God, I’m going to make her. I yank her thick hair back, putting my face within an inch of hers. She cries out in pain when I tug even harder. I would love to show her just how kinky I can get.