Page 16 of Angel

“You’re going to pretend like you’re one happy fucking couple while she makes sure you don’t fuck us over. However, that doesn’t mean you get to touch her, get me?” Chain’s growl erupts and bounces off the concrete interior.

“Let me get this straight. I can’t touch the woman I’m supposed to be fucking? How’s that going to work? And do I look like a relationship kind of man to you?”

Angel snorts. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Exactly, see? Even she thinks it’s impossible. My club isn’t going to buy that shit.”

“Figure. It. Out.” Chain’s jaw ticks.

“It’ll be more believable if she’s a hang-around, just my two cents.” I blink away the dizziness. I’ve made Angel the biggest target my club will ever see there. She stands out like a goddamn supermodel.

“You better make sure nothing happens to her. And I’m not fucking kidding. We’ll end you.” Is he serious? I don’t have time to play babysitter.

Their boots shuffle on the ground, catching my attention just before they walk away. “Uh, hate to tell you this, but my club is gonna know I’ve been held captive for the last… I don’t even know how many days… if I walk in there like this. Maybe a nice shower would suffice? After all, I did agree to help you and your club.” I shrug.

The Chains eye my pathetic body, exchanging glances with each other. “Fine,” Chain grunts. “Tank, Bullet, take him to the showers upstairs. Afterward, get him some clean clothes and a fucking meal.” As he stomps upstairs, he mumbles, “I’m way too fucking nice.”

I huff out a small laugh. He’s probably right about that.

“All right, asshole, let’s go. You fucking reek. Not sure a shower can even fix that… might be part of that personality of yours.” The big guy, Tank, detaches both chains and drags me past Angel, who hasn’t stopped glaring at me. But her sour expression only makes my cock grow thicker. I stumble as he grips me by the bicep. I feel like a fucking toddler learning to walk.

Jesus Christ. But damn, I can’t wait to get out of here. My body is craving the escape.

Walking upstairs was a chore, but now that I’m above ground, I can breathe again, and the room doesn’t spin anymore. We’re all outside the shower door, with unspoken words, so I figure that means I need to strip down to my birthday suit.

“You got five fucking minutes.” Tank throws a bar of soap at me, and I catch it one-handed. Good to know I still have my reflexes.

With palms flat on the tile wall in front of me, I soak in the hot water, which feels like fucking heaven. I run a hand down my drenched face and over my grown-in beard, which is thicker than I normally keep it. I massage the bar of soap over my chest and down my aching ab muscles—pain left there from the recent blow to the stomach. At least I won’t smell like I climbed out of a sewer anymore.

I’m itching to get back to my club and find out what the fuck has been going on.

The bang of Tank’s fist against the stall means time’s up. Running my fingers through my wet hair, I grab the clothes he hands me—a black t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. There’s a fine line when it comes to borrowing another man’s underwear.

I glare at him, brow raised.

“When you’re done with them, burn ‘em. I don’t want them back.”

These dudes may be my rivals, but at least they got a sense of humor.

He drags me along before pushing me onto the pit’s bench. Angel comes walking in, holding a tray. The metal clanks as she sets it down next to me. Jesus Christ. I run a hand down my face. She may be sexy as sin, but she’s going to be a pain in my ass. I just know it.

She stands there, shooting daggers through me, while slaying me with those eyes. But I welcome it. Slay away.

I shove the burger into my mouth like I’ve never eaten before, closely followed by the fries. Damn, it’s delicious. The savory juices tingle my fucking insides.

The guy they called their VP hands me a phone. I stuff the rest of the burger down my throat before taking the device.

“This is your new cell. Think of ditching it and we’ll know. It’s got a tracker. So, be a good little boy and hang on to it, will ya?”

“You guys are like the fucking A-team. And I have to admit… I’m a little jealous my club isn’t up to par.”

“You should be. Your club fucking sucks.”

I shrug. Can’t argue with that one. I also can’t help but glance at Angel, her hate festering like a disease. “You know, they won’t believe we’re fuck buddies if we walk in and you’re looking at me like you want to send a stake through my heart,” I tell her.

“I have about thirty minutes before I have to practice not throwing up all my insides, so… I’m going to take advantage of showing you just how much I dislike you until then.”

There’s an eruption of cleared throats.

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