Page 73 of Hendrix
Dazed with what I just witnessed, I walked outside arm in arm with Tristan, my head spinning with everything that had happened.
Hendrix had basically told the club he loved me and the baby and that he was going to claim us both, and for the life of me, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it.
The love was there, and it always would be, but the trust wasn’t. Everything had happened so fast that my brain was seizing up, which in turn was clearly affecting my decision-making skills because I hadn’t grabbed my bags and ran for the airport with Tristan like any normal woman would have done.
One minute, I was married—albeit unhappily—pregnant and ensconced in my husband’s home, and the next, I was in Virginia, staying at a beautiful hotel slash biker clubhouse with my hotter-than-Hades ex-lover, watching him throw out the club girl he’d been screwing for the past however many years.
Add on the fact I was constantly tired, my belly was sore, and I felt like bursting into tears every time the wind changed direction, and it was clear my life had done a complete one-eighty in a short amount of time.
We stepped outside the hotel doors, and I shivered in the cooled evening air. The earthy green scent of the river, sweetened with the native winterberries, wafted under my nose. I pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
Tristan pulled me toward the front of the crowd where the girls had gathered on the periphery, watching intently. Ciara’s head turned and she caught my eyes, grinning as she held up her phone.
Hendrix faced the crowd again with his arms crossed over his chest. “This club’s core relies on loyalty. We’ve already seen what happens when one person thinks he’s above all others. This is a safe place where every brother and our women and kids can come without fear of harm or judgment. We all do shit to piss each other off. It comes with the territory of having a community full of ex-military. But everyone here has a voice, and you’re encouraged to speak up. You either work your shit out in the ring or steer clear of the ones you clash with. What I won’t put up with is one person thinking they can do harm and snake someone. Rats aren’t welcome here, and they never will be.”
He turned and jerked his chin at the officers.
Blade dragged Daisy down the hotel steps to the sounds of the men hollering and hooting. If he hadn’t held her so tightly, she would’ve fallen on her ridiculously high heels, but somehow, she kept her footing while he pulled her roughly toward the road leading away from the hotel.
“Don’t come back,” he snarled, shoving her roughly away.
“Asshole!” she screeched, her venomous eyes turning back onto Hendrix. “This isn’t over. I’ll get payback for this. You think you can dump me like yesterday’s trash? I don’t fucking think so.”
Hendrix waved his hand dismissively as if she was an annoying bug. “Get the fuck outta here and don’t come back.”
Iceman jogged down the steps with a couple of trash bags and threw them in Daisy’s direction. “Don’t forget your shit,” he called after her.
She threw him an evil look, straightened her skirt down, and then bent to pick up her bags before turning on her heel and strutting down the path.
Blade turned to face Hendrix. “Should I take her to the bus station?”
“Nope,” Hendrix replied. “I’m done with her shit. After what she did to Anna, I wouldn’t waste the gas.”
I couldn’t help myself. I knew Colt told me not to speak up, but I couldn’t see a sister that messed up and say nothing. Cautiously, I approached Hendrix. “I’d feel more comfortable if somebody took her to the station, if only to make sure she leaves town.”
He stared me directly in the eye, and my throat went dry under his intense gaze. “She tried to hurt you. What the fuck do you care?”
“Idon’tcare,” I argued gently. “But we’re more evolved than that. She may be subhuman, but we’re not.”
After a brief pause, he jerked his chin at a prospect. “Pick her up, Tweety. Make sure she jets outta town.”
“On it, Prez,” he replied, then jogged toward one of the club’s SUVs.
“Okay,” Diablo shouted. “Show’s over. As you were, men.”
Chuckles and mutters filled the air, and I watched the crowd of men and women turn and head back inside.
Tristan skipped toward us and squealed excitedly. “That was so exciting, handsome, like something out ofSons of Anarchy.All you big, burly bikers, grunting your way through a smackdown. I almost peed my pants.” He clapped his hands together. “Can you believe we just witnessed a real-lifeSons of AnarchySmack a Bitch Down episode?”
Hendrix’s face screwed up with confusion. “Sons of what?”
“Oh, lawdy, Anna Banana,” he drawled. “I see we’re gonna have to visit your beau often. Maybe you could stay a few weeks when you’re as big as a house, and you can’t reach your client’s hair because your belly’s in the way. This one needs a lesson in hot biker box set shows.”
“Come again?” Hendrix bit out, his eyes narrowing on my friend.
A bad feeling began to creep through my stomach.
“You know,” Tristan went on breezily, not recognizing the hardness in Hendrix’s tone. “My Anna can introduce you to the world of Jax Teller and his merry band ofSons of Anarchywhenever she visits.” He squealed. “Farrah told me that when she and Kit were courting, they watchedGame of Thronesand made a pact never to watch it without each other. Then they got separated, and there was that whole killed-in-action but not killed-in-action thing, and because of the pact, they couldn’t watch it until they finally found their way back to each other again. I mean, how romantic isthat? You two could be Virginia’s answer to the Ks. A true love story that transcends time and space.” He sighed dreamily.
