Chapter 10
Vee
Luca’sclubhousecomesintoview, and I lift my hand to wipe the stray tears from my face. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, and I know once my brother sees my face he’ll be ready to start a war.
I move my foot off the gas pedal, letting the car slow before I turn onto the road to the clubhouse. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I come to a stop at the gate. Picking up my phone, I call Luca. It rings and rings, then goes to voicemail. Fuck me. I hang up and send him a message.
Me: Pulling up to the gate.
Hopefully, he’s there waiting for me and hasn’t answered me yet because he forgot his phone in his room or office or some shit like that. Not that he’s ignoring me.
I’ve only been here once before—and even then, Luca didn’t allow me past the gate. He didn't want me inside the gates, vulnerable to what takes place inside. I tried to argue with him that I’m no stranger to club life. Hell, I’ve been around theHellions and at their parties more times than I can count on one hand. Luca wouldn’t accept my words. The Rejects were far worse than the Hellions in his mind. Honestly, if the rumors are true, then I can’t argue with him. Which is why hiding out here is the best place for me.
Two men step out from the shadows of the guard shack as my headlights shine through the iron gate onto the gravel lot ahead of me. They’re young. Late teens, early twenties, maybe. Both wearing cuts that still look stiff and new, prospect patches stitched onto them, a promise of something just out of reach but not yet earned.
Grunt work. It’s what prospects are good for. I’ve learned that much since being around the Hellions. They’re there to do the dirty work until they’ve earned their member patch, or they fuck up so bad no one hears from them again.
I lower my window halfway as they approach my car. Something about them has the hairs on my arms standing at attention, and I don’t want them to have any more access to me than they need to.
“Evenin’,” one of them says as he leans into my door, placing his hands on the roof. Too close for comfort for me. The small barrier that the door provides isn’t near enough. His eyes sweep over me and then the inside of my car. “You lost, sweetheart?” His good looks are quickly overshadowed by the evil glint in his eyes. It’s then I catch sight of the scar that runs horizontally under his right eye from nose to hairline.
Where the hell is Luca? He should’ve been here waiting for me so I didn’t have to deal with this.
My jaw tightens as the man clears his throat, waiting for my answer, no doubt.
“I,” slips from my lips as I quickly regain control of my emotions. “I’m here to see my brother.”
That gets their attention—but not the way I expected it would. Maybe it was the ambiguous use of the word brother. Surely, with his absence, he at least let them know I was coming.
The other prospect standing just left of the one who has pushed his face as far into the opening of my window as he can, grins at me, slow and lazy. “Yeah? And who’s your brother?”
“Luca,” I rush out, my hands gripping the wheel tighter, a shiver of fear dancing along my spine.
They shift their heads toward each other at the mention of his name, exchanging some telepathic message between themselves, before turning back to me with smiles that do not give me any warmth. More like dread and a sudden urge to shift the car into reverse and drive the hell away from here.
A hotel sounds so much better at the moment. It will be a hit to my pocket, but at least I don’t have to deal with these two assholes. Then, once I’m safe behind the walls, I’m going to give Luca a piece of my mind for putting me through this.
“Well,” the man with the scar says as he moves his hand toward his side. "Here's the thing. Prez ain’t never mentioned no sister. You must be one of his whores. He usually keeps them—”
“Don’t,” I snap, squinting my eyes as I glare at him.
The grin widens. “Relax. We’re just sayin’ hi. And to let you know there ain’t nothin’ that the Prez can do for you that we can’t.” The fucker brings his fingers to his mouth, making a V in front of it and waggles his tongue through them.
I want to throw up. I have to fight down the bile rising in my throat.
His gaze dips. Lingering on me, as he continues with his vulgar display while the man beside him cups his cock and thrusts his hips at me.
Before I can even react, demand for him to get my brother or just back the fuck up and leave, a voice cuts through the air like a blade.
It’s not Luca. But familiar.
“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” he shouts, causing the two fuckwads to step back from my car, giving me a sense of relief.
Nic. Not my brother, but he’ll do. At least he knows who the fuck I am.
He’s moving across the parking lot fast. When he moves into the beam of my headlights, I can see the anger rolling off him in waves. His cut hangs open, no shirt; his expression already set to lethal.
I can see the change in the way the prospects are standing. Gone is the laid-back stature they had, replaced by stiff bodies that are trying to hide their fear.
