Page 34 of Mimic
And I wanted Indie.
I sat on my bike and waited for King to pull out first, then Gunner, then myself. Cash and Rose had already left with Indie’s car and her suitcase. We rode single file with Gunner in the middle because that was where Indie was.
On his fucking bike.
She didn’t fucking belong there. These guys didn’t take women on their bikes. Not unless it was their old lady, or family. I’d seen King take Beck on his bike. But she was his niece. Ellie hadn’t been on Jingles’ bike, but she also hadn’t been on Ryder’s, seeing as how she’d been pregnant almost from the moment we met her.
She’d had the baby now. She and Beck both had. Sam and Maureen, the sheriff’s wife, were next. A picture of Indie flashed in my mind. Pregnant. Her stomach protruding with a child.
Not my child.
I couldn’t have children. George had made sure of that shit. Said the world didn’t need more of my father’s bastards running around. I wasn’t given a choice. There were a lot of things I wasn’t given a choice about. Like putting Indie on the back of my bike.
We pulled into the clubhouse, and she hopped off before Gunner had even turned off the bike. That wasn’t her first ride, and I wondered who I had to kill. Who was the motherfucker that put her on his bike and then let her go?
Did he let her go?
Or was she running?
Is that why Sting came for her? Had she belonged to a Death Dog and got away like Aspen did? Had she been beaten the way Aspen was? Abused by someone who was supposed to love and cherish her?
My anger grew with every step I took, and it hit the boiling point when I saw Johnny behind the bar looking at Indie. My jaw ached from the way I ground my teeth as I struggled with my control. I wanted to knock him the fuck out. His vote was coming up quick, and I knew King thought a lot of him, but if he didn’t stop eye-fucking my woman, he’d never become a brother.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Jack asked as I slammed down into my chair. I flipped my middle finger at him, and he grinned. He knew that no matter what he said to me, I wouldn’t take it out on him because of Sam and Charlie.
“First things first,” King began, his eyes locked on mine. “What the fuck were you doing in her apartment?”
“Protecting her.”
“From what?” King asked.
“The fucking Death Dogs!” I snarled.
“Kid, there was no reason to think the attack was more than random opportunity, or that she was in any further danger,” Cash said.
I hated it when he called me kid. I wasn’t a fucking kid. I had lived more in twenty-one years than most of the men in this club.
“You call my sister kid?”
Cash’s glare promised death before he said, “Watch your fucking mouth,kid.”
“Mimic, what made you think Indie was still in danger?” Colt asked, trying to ease the tension.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Blade asked.
“Can’t. I don’t have a fucking reason. All I have is a feeling, and that goddamn feeling was right.” I took a deep breath before continuing, “Look, I know I’m young and I’ve been an enforcer for less than a month, but you fucking chose me. If you don’t think you can trust me—”
“I thought I could fucking trust you when I told you to stay the fuck away from her.”
“She’s mine!” I jumped from my chair and slammed a fist on the table.
“Jesus Christ,” King sighed.
Jack threw his head back and laughed. Blade sat in his chair grinning, and Nav coughed onto his computer.
“Sit your ass down, kid,” Cash scoffed.
