Page 6 of Grace's Redemption
Two
GRACE
“Iknow you’re there.” I stood by the large window overlooking the front of the clubhouse. Visually it was a picture of chaotic debauchery, but with the soundproof windows, it was calming.
“I wasn’t trying to be quiet.” The tone of his voice heated my insides.
“You couldn’t even if you tried.” I turned and my heart raced at the sight of him. “You stomp around here like you’re scaring ghosts.”
“Maybe I am.” He pulled off his cut and threw it on the bed. “You over the party?”
“Not sure what we’re celebrating.” I shrugged and sat on the bed. I pulled his cut in my lap and ran my fingers over the leather. The patch with its SouthEast Dragon embroidered design on the back felt rough against my fingers.
I’d personally cleaned dirt and blood and god knows what else off of it a couple of weeks ago with a toothbrush. I did things like that for him, hoping he would notice. “You taking it with you.”
“Not like I need it.” He lifted the arm of his short sleeve and rubbed the tattoo of the club logo on his upper arm. He walked over to the window and looked out. “You want to hold on to it for me?”
“Sure.” I draped it over my shoulders. It’s how the girlfriends wore them. The old ladies got their own cut to properly identify them. I was neither. I’d lived with the Scott's since my father died. Papa Scott took care of me. Treated me like a daughter.
My father was one of the founding members of the Dragons, but he never wanted the leadership role. My dad could take apart and put a bike together without a manual. He liked being the grease monkey of the crew. He was held in high regard and the respect he earned passed down to me. I was family.
In Mattie, I got a best friend. A silly, funny, laid back brotherly type. He looked out for me. Mase looked out for us, both.
I never saw Mase as a brother.
Mase felt more like …everything.
He was my first in every way.
My first love, my first crush. He shared things with me, things even his best friend, Derrick didn’t know. Stuff like the books he loved. He’d read them and leave them for me on my bed. I’d devour them and then we’d sit in this room or on the roof and talk about them for hours.
He also taught me how to protect myself. I could shoot better than him and use a knife. He showed me how to take down a guy twice my size with my bare hands.
Stuff every little girl growing up in a motorcycle club should know.
The heat of his stare warmed me from the inside out. I knew the look all too well.
He always looked at me like that when he thought I wasn’t looking. Like if given the go ahead, he would devour me. I gave him the okay with my eyes, with a look, all but flat out told him to take me.
He ignored it and fucked some groupie or even worse, Dollie.
I looked at my watch. It was twelve thirty. I wasn’t allowed to stay past midnight without Papa Scott’s permission.
I wasn't about to break the spell to go and ask him I could stay longer. Hopefully he would think I left already.
I looked up at Mase, ready for him to avert his eyes and play it off like he always did. Ignore his obvious attraction to me. I had always been infatuated with Mase Scott.
I remember the moment he stopped looking at me as a little girl.
I was in the game room, playing pool with some of the guys. I wore a little pleated black skirt and a tight white tank top. I dressed for Mase. I wanted him to notice me. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.
A prospect stared at my ass a little too long.
Mase caught him.
He ended up in the hospital. Needless to say, he didn't get his cut.
From that moment on, the guys never looked. Or, if they looked, they made damn sure Mase wasn’t around, first.
