Page 8 of Ravaged and Ruined
He’s the only one who dares to talk to me like that, and it’s been that way for as long as I can remember. Anyone else would know better. But Surge? He’s got balls, which is why I hand picked him as my Sergeant at Arms. He knows me better than most. Knows how to push without pushing too far.
“Shut the hell up, Surge,” I snap, my voice rough.
I feel the eyes of everyone around the room settle on me, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not right now. I’m too fucking hungover, too frustrated.
“Uh-huh. That’s real mature, Prez,” Surge continues, pushing his luck as always. I can hear the amusement in his tone. He knows I’m pissed, and he’s loving every second of it. “Is there any alcohol left in Atlantic City?”
I grumble, ignoring him as the chatter picks up again. They all know how this goes. He pokes. I snap. The world keeps spinning. Even if I can’t muster a good comeback with the fog in my head.
I glance at Lacey again, and her eyes meet mine for a brief, charged moment. I don’t even realize I crossed the entire room to sit in the empty chair next to her. Fuck it, I’m already here. I slide the chair out, its legs scratching against the wooden floor. I wince the sound sharp in my ears like nails on a chalkboard.
My stomach churns from the alcohol, and I wish I could just grab something to eat, drown the taste of regret with the greasycomfort of eggs and bacon. But I can’t. Not when Lacey pushes out of her chair in a huff.
I can feel the tension between us, the unspoken frustration, the longing. The tension between us stretches tight, thick enough to choke on. I can feel the weight of everyone watching, but I don’t care. Not really. The only thing I can focus on is Lacey, and the way I can’t seem to get my shit together enough to make her mine. She deserves better than me. Better than the chaos I’m drowning in.
Lacey’s the first to break the silence between us, her voice low enough that only I can hear her, “You can never push me out of your bed, hell you can never push me out of the clubhouse.”
I grab her wrist and tug her closer, instantly regretting it the second I do. The feel of her skin against mine turns the blood in my veins molten. I lower my mouth to her ear, “I wouldn’t do that.”
She looks up at me. She’s pissed, yeah, but there’s something else there too. Something I can’t quite figure out.
“You’re Emery’s friend, that means you’re always welcome here.”
She yanks her hand out of my grip, rage now simmering in her eyes. “Emery’s friend. Right. That’s all that I am. You’re a real piece of work, Aero. You know what else you could never do?”
I don’t answer. She must see the question in my eyes because she doesn’t wait.
“You can never push me out of your head or your heart.” Her voice is ice, and it makes the ache in my chest worse but I can’t deal with this right now.
When I don’t respond she storms out, leaving me standing there with my jaw clenched and my dick hard.
That fucking woman annoys the hell out of me but she’s not wrong. Nothing I’ve tried has gotten her out of my system. I hatethat I want her so much and can’t let myself have her. It eats at me every damn day.
“Dog!” I bark at the traitorous mutt trotting along behind Lacey practically begging for attention. Lacey obliges of course. She loves that damn dog more than she lets on. And that pisses me off more than it should.
What is this shit on Aero day?
“Fucking traitor,” I mutter watching my dog and Lacey disappear from my view. Heat simmers under my skin, and I shake my head.
Grizzly, my Vice President’s voice breaks through the tension, “It’s time for Church.”
I growl under my breath. He’s right. Time to get to business. The longer I let myself stew on Lacey’s words, the worse it’ll get. I drain my coffee, and push the frustration aside.
“Alright, enough of this shit,” I say, turning toward the door. The guys start rising from the table, moving toward Church. “Let’s go.”
Lacey’s words burn in the back of my mind, but I push them down.
Business first. Emotions later. If I even let myself feel them at all.
Every brother in the room immediately pushes back from the table. Chairs scrape against the floor with a grating screech, the sound slicing through the laughter and easy conversation like a blade. Some are slower than others, grumbling under their breath, rubbing at bloodshot eyes but there’s a silent understanding that settles over all of us. It’s time to handle business.
The bitterness of my coffee is doing fuck-all to clear my head or ease my mood. There’s a lot of things riding on today, and I’m not about to let my personal shit screw that up.
Surge lays a fat, wet kiss on Emery like he couldn’t care less who’s watching and then falls in step beside me. I want to slap that damn smirk off his face. He’s far too amused by my misery. “Do you need some ‘hair of the dog’ or something? Maybe a nap?”
I shoot him a glare. “Maybe you need to shut the hell up before I put you down for a damn nap.”
Surge just grins. “Love you too, brother.”
