Page 69 of Devil's Vengeance

“Holy shit, you’re in the Devil’s Disciples. You’re dating a freaking biker?”

Mariah swung around, shushing the woman harshly. “Will you shut up? Do you want to wake Mom?”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “I take it you didn’t tell her?”

She shot me a dirty look. “Considering every time I learn something new, my life gets threatened if I even think about sharing it? No. I didn’t tell her. She was bullied here by our mom, who thought I needed a shoulder to cry on or whatever. Mom refuses to acknowledge that we aren’t that close.”

Angelica waved away Mariah’s tone, shooting me a sultry grin. “Ignore her. She’s just in a mood. Happens a lot with her. You know, I’ve been dying for an invite to one of those biker parties. I can never figure out how to get in.”

So both sisters lacked self-preservation? Was it a family trait?

“Angelica, don’t,” Mariah interjected. “He’s not bringing you to a party. If he had his way, no women would get anywhere near their club. He’s so overprotective, he puts Dad to shame.”

“Why does that feel like an insult?” I commented, pulling her against my chest. She went willingly enough, which gave me high hopes for the conversation we were going to have about me claiming her. It needed to happen. It was the only way I could guarantee the club would look out for her.

“Because you’re really annoying sometimes,” she quipped, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward her room. I was surprised when her sister protested, grabbing my other arm.

“Hey, don’t just ditch me. I want to meet your man.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “Bikers are hot.”

Freeing my arm, I took a step back. I could see Mariah getting pissed out of the corner of my eye. She mentioned once that her sister was a troublemaker in the extreme. No way did I want a reckless woman like that anywhere near the clubhouse. These sisters needed better self-preservation.

“She’s right. I’m not giving you an invite. Women need to steer clear of our business.”

The sister didn’t like that and jabbed a finger toward her sister. “Why does she get to go?”

“Because I’m claiming her. She’s protected. You’re not. Go find another club to chase.”

In all honesty, women like her were probably perfect for sweetbutts, but I didn’t invite women to the clubhouse. I wasn’t going to put any more people at risk just to get off. Everyone at the club knew I wouldn’t touch sweetbutts, so bringing one to the clubhouse would be suspicious as hell. Besides, Mariah obviously didn't like the idea and I wasn’t looking to piss her off any more than I already had to with what was coming next.

We walked away together to Mariah’s room, ignoring the death glare the sister was shooting us behind our backs. I sat on the foot of the bed while Mariah locked her door, scrubbing my hands over my face. The last few days sucked, and I was exhausted. We couldn’t even plan Nevada’s funeral right now because we were going to war, and we needed to be ready for what was coming.

“You couldn’t come up with a better lie to distract her?”

The annoyance in Mariah’s tone drew my focus, and I dropped my hands, frowning at her. “When did I lie?”

She raised her eyebrows. “When you said you were claiming me? Unless I somehow missed an entire conversation that I definitely think I’d remember.”

I was too tired to figure out what I wanted to say. Physically and mentally. I should’ve been done with this Trick shit weeks ago. If I could’ve finished him off at the rally, none of this would’ve happened.

“It’s not a lie. I was going to talk to you about it earlier, but Trick showed up. It didn’t feel like the right time.”

When I looked up at her, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Sweetbutts would be happy for a claim, but most of the old ladies put up a fight. They weren’t part of the life and didn’t know what it meant. Mariah had an idea, thanks to those books, but she was also dealing with a lot of shit thanks to me, and I could see the open conflict on her face.

“Chase…”

“It’s for your safety, Mariah. I claim you, the club has to protect you. You’ll be a part of the crew in a way, and we always watch out for the old ladies. Even if something bad happened to me, the club would look out for you. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

It was the wrong thing to say. The look on her face said it all. She looked at me like I’d slapped her across the face. I frowned.

“What?”

“No.”

Stunned, I just stared at her. “No?”

She shook her head. “No, Chase. I like you and maybe under different circumstances, we might be good together, but I’m not agreeing to a fake relationship. Not even to protect myself from Trick. I’d rather just leave. If I’m going to be in a relationship with someone, I want it to be something real.”

My gut twisted at the thought. The last real relationship I had ended so poorly, I closed myself off from the idea of ever having another again. It wouldn’t be fair to whoever I picked. Either I kept most of my life from them and kept them hidden to protect them, or I drew them into my world, where assholes like Trick targeted women close to the crew just to screw with us.

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