Adrenaline Rush (Death Chasers MC 4)

It should be a simple choice between me and the club. I suppose it is, since he’s already chosen.

His look softens, and he shakes his head before running a hand through his longer hair, getting it away from his face.

“Look, I know you got issues with your dad, but accusing him of murder just because you need someone to blame isn’t fucking healthy or rational.”

Gritting my teeth, I drop the sheet and start pulling on my own clothes. I should have been gone an hour ago. If that story leaks before it’s printed, Pop will have me dead before I can get out of town.

“When he didn’t have his dick lost in a club whore, he was with Esmerelda getting his dick sucked. My mom was clean and sober for two years and left him because she got sick of catching shit he passed along. But you know Herrin doesn’t like worrying about a loose end, and once you’re in, you’re in for life. He did it, Rush. I’m not making shit up. He killed her and kept me because I was his. We need to go because—”

“No!” he shouts, cutting me off. “No,” he says calmer. “You don’t know what it’s like, Kara. You have no idea what it’s like to be wanted by no one and survive daily for no reason other than you hope tomorrow might finally have something good to bring. Tomorrow finally came for me, and now I’m here. You take all this for granted.”

Something sours in my mouth as I stare at him like I’ve never seen him before. I never questioned his loyalty. I always thought it was to me from the first day we landed in bed together almost six months ago and started sneaking around.

Now I feel like an idiot.

I was just convenient—same age, the P’s daughter, and just fucked up enough to deal with his fucked-up-ness. Bad enough to want sex as much as him. The rest of everything between us has apparently been some stupid teenager’s fantasy I made up in my head.

“I take it all for granted?” I ask quietly, even though it’s just me parroting his words for my own sake.

“Yes,” he says, tossing his arms up. “You walk around and whine about how Herrin is, yet you have no idea what it’s like to live without his money, protection, and actual concern. You’re a princess to those fuckers who would kill anyone for looking at you wrong. You have no idea what it’s like to live without that shit or to be on your own. You’re so fucking spoiled that you look for shit to be wrong just so you have a reason to complain. But you’re nothing but fucking clueless.”

I nod slowly, my eyes dropping to the floor.

“Clueless,” I state as though I’m testing the word. “Sounds like a more accurate depiction of you. But hey, what do I know? You’ve been here a year, and I’ve been here my entire life. Clearly you know the club, my father, and my life better than me.”

Snatching my shoes from the floor, I start to head toward the door, but he grabs me at the elbow.

My eyes drop to the contact, and even as I seethe, my heart breaks a little with the reminder of how I’ll never feel his touch again.

The phone in my back pocket is buzzing, but I ignore it, waiting on whatever Rush will do next.

“Don’t leave mad,” he finally says, stepping closer.

“You don’t really get to tell me how I feel,” I state evenly as my eyes lift to meet his. “I have a father for that.”

Ripping my arm away from him, I watch as the shutters come down over his eyes, and he blows out a breath while shaking his head.

“Whatever,” he says, looking away. “We’ll talk later after you calm down or stop ragging or whatever in the hell has put you in such a shitty mood.”

Snorting derisively, I shove open the door and stalk out, not looking back. I make a quick stop by my clubhouse room, grab my backpack, and strut out of the warehouse like it’s any other day.

No one asks questions.

No one pays attention.

No one notices anything.

Except Germaine who is walking in as I walk out. He tilts his head as he frowns down at me.

“Your Pop called and said to make sure you stayed in today,” he tells me.

“I am staying in. I just need some tampons,” I say with a teasing smile that has him rolling his eyes.

He groans as he pulls out his phone, reading whatever text has just come through. “Hang out here. Let me piss and I’ll take you tampon shopping,” he says on a long, annoyed breath as he walks off, assuming I’ll be a good girl and just wait like I was told to do.