Page 43 of Angel

I make the final turn into the Chains’ clubhouse, and I now understand why Angel was so disgusted with ours. This place is Beverly Hills. And ours—well—ours is Skid Row. I put the car in park, knowing we only have a few minutes before the calvary stampedes outside. I want to take hold of her hand, tell her she’s safe, but I don’t. Because that shit isn’t me. So, instead, I get out, walk around the car, and open her door.

Fuck it. “Come on, Angel.” I extend a hand, and just as she’s about to take it, I hear footsteps behind me and someone grabs the back of my cut, slamming the front of my body against the car. “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask whoever’s locking me in a UFC hold.

“What did you do, motherfucker? Huh?” He shakes me like a rag doll, then shoves me harder against the car. “Why is she intoxicated?”

I know that voice, heard it too many times. “I don’t know. I’m not her fucking babysitter. So, if she wants to get trashed, not my business.”

“Charger, let him go.” Angel grabs his arm, tugging him away from me. “I’m not drunk. He said that to cover for me. Venom didn’t do anything, so let him go.”

Their boss, the man himself, comes to join the party with the others following behind. Even Jules. She looks gorgeous. Happy. And the fucker who hates me is the reason she smiles. The reason she glows like a goddamn star. A shine she never had with me.

“Don’t look at her, motherfucker. Look at me.” Charger steps closer, and Chain drops a hand to his shoulder. Jules approaches Angel, making sure she’s okay, and I smirk at Charger.

“Jesus Christ. Everyone breathe for two seconds, and calm the fuck down,” Chain demands, and all eyes are on me. “Angel, care to fucking explain what happened?’

She stills, tenses, then takes a deep breath. “I thought I could help out tonight by getting a little friendly with one of the members. I wasn’t going to let it go too far, but it turned out different from how I expected.”

I knew it. I knew I shouldn’t have left her with that fucking asshole.

“You what?” Chain groans, stepping closer to her, and my insides claw to get free. She’s hurting right now, and he can’t even fucking see that.

“I thought I could get information out of him, and…”

“You fucking did what!?”

I push off her car, away from Charger and head-to-head with Chain. “She’s fucking upset, so you need to get the fuck out of her face.”

The others charge for me, but Chain holds up a hand. He laughs. “Since when do you give a shit?”

“I don’t know the full story, but your Angel broke his fucking nose and then he went after her. So, before you stand there, lecturing her like some goddamn father, maybe hear what she has to say.”

Heads dart back and forth.

“Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, asshole,” Chain snarls, ready to pounce, and I fully believe this man could and would tear me to shreds. “And what exactly happened when he came after you?” The muscles in his face tense. “Jesus Christ, why is it every time I turn around, you’re getting into some kind of trouble, huh?” As Chain scolds her, she buries her nails into her palms.

“She was doing what she thought was right. She went through some shit tonight, so like I said… back off.” I can feel myself getting heated, my teeth grinding, and anger rising from my chest.

“You need to shut the fuck up and let me handle my club.” Chain takes a step forward, and I’m ready for it.

“Stop! Everyone just stop!” Angel’s voice echoes in the night. “If it wasn’t for Venom, that club member would have…” She stops, but we all know what she was going to say.

Chain rubs a hand down his face with a look of regret. Sadness. “I should have never put you in there. Fuck. Angel, you’re done. You’re not going back. I’m pulling you out. Everyone get inside. I need a minute with Venom.”

Venom? At least it wasn’t fucker or asshole this time.

Angry faces and glares pierce me before the rest of the members pivot on their heels and march toward the clubhouse. And my head snaps in a double take when I think I see Jules’s mouth twitch into a faint smile. Was that a thank you for Angel? I don’t need the gratitude. I don’t deserve it.

Chain turns his still-angry, but calmer attention to me. And I jump at the opportunity to speak first. “Look.” I sigh. “I know what you may think of me, and to be honest, you’re probably right. I am a piece of shit, but I have the same goal as you. And that’s to find my President and end him.”

Chain crosses his arms over his massive chest. “Is that so?”

I nod. “I plan on taking over my club, but I can’t do that until the fucker is found. This may come as a shock to you, but I can’t stand him either. And you may not believe me, but I honestly don’t give a shit. What I’m telling you is the truth. My club is headed down a dark path. A path I don’t want for it.” I don’t know if he trusts what I’m saying, but it doesn’t matter at this point. “I’ll help you and your club willingly, but not out of the goodness of my fucking heart. If I help you, I help myself. So, we both win in this situation.”

Chain chuckles, taking out a cigar and lighting it. He walks next to me and leans against Angel’s car. “The only reason I’m not burying you right now is because, if what Angel said is true, then we won’t be considered in your debt.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want anything in return. All I want is to fucking find Scorpion.”

A puff of smoke fills the area around us. “You don’t seem like the kind of man who wants to run a good club.”

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