Somewhere he heard Ice hissing at him to use his discipline, and knew he was supposed to force his body to cooperate, but for the first time in his life since he'd been trained, he couldn't. His cock refused to get hard. He didn't want this woman to touch him. She wasn't Anya. His body wanted one woman. He couldn't do what he'd been trained to do. He stepped back away from her, shaking his head.
"Reaper." She was practically purring. She went down to her knees in front of him. "I didn't think I'd ever have a chance with you. I'll make this so good for you, sugar. You're going to feel so good."
The more he backed away, the more persistent she became, shuffling forward on her knees, her fingers busy at his belt. He felt them, but they didn't seem real to him. It was as if she had faded so far into his past he was in two places at the same time. He stepped back a second time. Bumped the wall. He half turned to face the attack coming at him from the rear.
The woman shuffled forward on her knees again. Caught at his zipper. He had nowhere to go. He shook his head, sweat pouring off him. "No." He said it distinctly. He screamed it over and over in his mind. No. He didn't want anyone touching him. Then. Now. It was his body. His right to say no. He said it. He meant it.
The hands stroked at the front of him. Greedily. He felt that greed. His body shuddered again, revulsion so strong he knew the woman had to die. He knew the attack would come from behind him, the blows that would bring him to his knees, the shove that would force him into her ugly mouth. The whip striking him over and over. Pain blossoming through his body, the threats, the burns. The worst.
Dimly, far away, he heard Ice. "Tawny, stop. He said no. Something's wrong."
"Get away from him." That was Storm.
"I'll make him feel so good," the woman insisted.
He had to stop her. She couldn't put her hands on him. He reached for the knife he kept close. It wasn't there. It wasn't there. The roaring in his head grew louder. Fingers touched his skin and the well of rage deep inside him opened up to allow the monster out, the monster that would defend him. The one that protected him and protected all the others. He would snap her neck. He reached for her head, grasped her hair.
"You lying, cheating bastard."
The voice broke through the veil. Her voice. Anya. He hadn't caught the actual words, only her voice. It was like a clear wind blowing through the past, pushing it back so he could slam that door closed. So he could draw in air. Find breath. He turned his head and she came into his line of sight.
There was horror on her face. Knowledge of betrayal. Pain. The pain was plain, there for him to see, for everyone to see. He realized he still had the woman's head gripped in two fists. Her fingers had brushed his cock. His stomach lurched. He stumbled sideways and back, away from her, dropping his shaking hands. His muscles hurt, felt cramped. Locked. Hurting almost as bad as that terrible look on Anya's face.
"It isn't what you think," Ice said.
"Anya, just listen." Storm took a step toward her, his hand outstretched pleadingly.
"Anya . . ." Reaper couldn't get his mouth to work. He was frozen. In shock. His body didn't feel as if it belonged to him.
"Fuck you, Reaper. She can have you. Don't worry, I won't cry or whine. I'm gone." Anya spun around and ran from the room.
Ice let out a long, high-pitched whistle of warning to anyone in the clubhouse. Storm was on his cell group-texting the others. Reaper tried to go after her, but his pants were down around his knees and he stumbled and went down.
"Fuckin' stop her!" he yelled to the twins. "Don't you let her go!"
Ice broke into a run while Reaper fought to get his jeans up. He was still disoriented, but he knew that he'd just made the worst mistake of his life.
Anya still had her car keys in her hand, which was a good thing since her vision was blurred from the tears she'd told Reaper she wasn't about to shed. The pain was visceral. Gutting her. She bent over, clutching her stomach, afraid her intestines would spill out onto the ground.
Tawny. Anya didn't hang around the clubhouse, but in the weeks she'd been there, Tawny had come into the bar and was all over the men. She'd made it clear she thought the men were hers. All of them. She even went after Czar a few times, although he'd shut her down hard. It was rumored she wanted every one of the members of Torpedo Ink, and she was willing to take them a few at a time, or all. Of all the women he could have chosen to cheat with . . .
Anya had lied her ass off. She was sobbing so loudly she wouldn't have been surprised if she scared off all wildlife in a hundred-mile range. She actually tripped, unable to see where she was going because her vision was so blurry.
She yanked open the door to her car. Someone took the keys right out of her hand. She whirled around, prepared to fight, afraid it was Reaper with some lame excuse she'd probably be too weak to ignore. It was Lana.
"Honey, whatever is wrong, you can't drive a car in that state."
"I've got to get out of here," Anya said. Crying. Sobbing. Wiping viciously at the tears. "Right now. I have to go."
"Then we'll go. Get in the passenger side. I'll drive."
Anya did what Lana said because she couldn't bear to face Reaper and he might appear any moment. Or maybe he wouldn't. Which would be worse? She hated him. Hated him. "What's wrong with me, Lana?" She covered her face with her hands.
Behind them the doors in the back opened and two men slid in. Ink and Absinthe shut the doors and ignored her when she turned to glare at them. It was hard to maintain an evil eye when she couldn't stop crying like a baby.
"Get out. Men aren't welcome."
"Lana, drive," Ink said softly. "We're a family, Anya. Whether you like it or not, you agreed to be part of us. We took you in. That means when you're hurting, we look after you."
Lana didn't wait for another invitation. She put the car in gear and drove away from the clubhouse. "Where do you want to go?"
"The house. I have to get my things. My cash."
Lana glanced in the rearview mirror as three Harleys fired up. Maestro, Keys and Player swung in behind them.
"Darlin'," Ink said gently. "Tell us what happened."
"You didn't see? You didn't see Reaper's jeans around his butt and some woman on her knees, her hands all over his cock, mouth wide open? Because, let me tell you, it's burned into my memory forever."
There was silence in the car, other than her wild sobbing. Anya tried desperately to get herself under control. She should have known letting herself believe she had a home and family would be her downfall. It was a huge one. She'd invested her heart. All-in. Everything. No reserve. She hadn't seen this one coming. She believed it would be impossible not to trigger Reaper's memories of the traumas he'd suffered. She was prepared for that. She would have fought for him, fought beside him, done anything necessary to stay with him and find a way to work it out.
Another woman. A club woman. Tawny. One who went from man to man. He'd thrown her away for casual sex. Not a love affair, not a woman he met and fell for, but a woman who would give him a blow job and turn and give one to Ice and Storm immediately after. He didn't care about that woman. He didn't want a relationship . . .
Her wild thoughts settled. He didn't want a relationship. All along he'd been stumbling, trying to tell her, and she just didn't pick up on the clues. She stared out the window, forcing great gulps of air into her burning lungs to get herself under control. Women all over the world had this happen to them. The love of their life didn't love them back. They survived. She could survive.
She pressed her fingers to her trembling mouth, aware Lana, Ink and Absinthe were shocked at what she'd told them. The silence was awkward, but she wasn't going to fill it.
"Let's drive around first," Lana suggested. "Just until you're not so upset. We can go sit at the headlands or go to one of the parks. The ocean is always soothing to me when I'm upset."
Anya tried to force a smile, but she just couldn't make it. Inside, she felt smashed. Fragmented. Alone again. So alone. She shiv
ered and wrapped her arms around her middle. Holding tight. She just had to hold on tight.
"I just need to get back to the house, Lana. I don't want him to show up and give me some lame-ass explanation. If I had a gun, I'd shoot the bastard."
Lana glanced at Ink in the rearview mirror. He gave her a small shake of the head, mouthed, Blythe, and went back to his phone, trying to get a reasonable explanation for why Reaper would do such a thing. Anya turned around.
"You better not be talking to Reaper," she said. Her heart accelerated again. "Ink, I need you to put away your phone or get out of the car."
Ink put his phone down immediately. "A man like Reaper doesn't tatt you into his skin, Anya, not if he's going to throw you away," he said softly. "I know what you think you saw, but there was more to it than that. There's an explanation."
"I don't want to hear it," Anya said. "I told him if ever there was another woman, any woman, we were done. We both laid the rules down, and we both knew what they were. He chose that woman. Chose her instead of coming to me."
She was crying all over again. She'd been so stupid to believe Reaper could fall in love with her. Men like Reaper didn't fall in love. They used women for their purposes and threw them away. He'd even warned her. Right up front. When he was done, it was done, no crying and whining to him. He wouldn't get that. She might not be able to stop sobbing, but she wasn't doing it in front of him. Not. Ever.
She had to go back and get her things. Fuck him, she was keeping the car too. He might have paid for it, but it was in her name. She was going to get out of there, drive so far away from him that she could never go back because she wouldn't have the money. Alaska was looking good. A cruise ship. She could work a cruise ship, they always needed bartenders, didn't they?
"You're getting a little crazy," Lana said. "A cruise ship?"
She'd said it out loud. What else was she saying? Anya pressed her fingers over her mouth. She had to get out of there.
"I was texting Ice, Anya. He was there. I was just trying to get a sense of what really happened so we could talk this out. You can't just go home, get your things and drive away."
It was taking too long. They should have been at Reaper's house by now. She glanced out the window through blurry eyes and saw they were on the highway. She knew immediately where they were taking her. Czar and Blythe. The go-to couple. The problem solvers.
"They can't solve this one," she murmured aloud.
Lana didn't need an explanation for her fragmented conversations. "They don't need to solve anything, Anya. You're hurting, in no condition to drive, that means we take care of you. Blythe can do that better than anyone else."
"I need my clothes."
"We can get them later. Just let us take care of you." She turned off the highway and drove between the gates leading to the farm Blythe owned with her five other "sisters." Women she'd chosen as family.
So this was what it was like to have a family. To have people who surrounded you when things had gone horribly wrong. It was annoying as hell. She had to leave. She felt almost desperate to get out of the area. She couldn't be anywhere she and Reaper had been together.
"You have to tell Czar I'm quitting. I'm sorry about not giving notice." She burst into a fresh flood of tears. Of course Czar would know. All of them would know Reaper had cheated on her. They texted one another constantly. It was utterly humiliating to know Blythe stood outside on her porch waiting to comfort her because she knew already, before Anya had the chance to tell her what a complete and utter bastard Reaper was.
Lana parked the car right in front of the house. Anya just sat there, even when motorcycles swept into the yard behind them. At first, there were only a couple, but then it seemed as if the entire yard was full of the big machines. She buried her face in her hands. She had to stop crying. She'd told Reaper she was a big girl. When it was over she'd walk away and never contact him again. There would be no crying and whining. No begging him to take her back. No jealousy that he had another woman.
She wanted to scream to the heavens. Screw him. The least he could have done was act like a man and tell her straight up it was over. That's what a real man would have done.
"Anya." Ink opened her door and reached in for her, his hands gentle as if she were the most fragile creature alive.
She was acting exactly as she'd promised herself--and Reaper--she wouldn't. "I'm fine, really, Ink. It was just such a shock. I was worried about him. He'd been drinking heavily and he doesn't do that. I asked Preacher to let me off early because I thought I should take him home. How stupid. I was worried about him."
How many times had he snuck off to get blow jobs from someone who wasn't her? She wanted to pound him into the ground. Ink was urging her out of the car, his hand around her biceps, tugging. She didn't want to get out and face everyone. She just sat there, staring down at the fingerprints on her wrists.
She looked up at Ink. Blinked away the tears until he came into focus. "Can you get rid of them for me? I don't think I can look at them for the rest of my life."
"Sure, honey. Let's get you out of the car."
He agreed so readily she didn't believe him, but she got out of the car because she knew she'd never get out of there until she pulled herself together. She straightened her shoulders, took a quick look around and saw the various members of the club were scattered around the yard like silent sentries. It was dark. She couldn't make out their faces, but she knew them. She went up the stairs, and Blythe put her arm around her shoulders and took her from Ink.
Ink stayed outside. Anya was grateful for that. She didn't want him to witness whatever was said between Blythe and her. Czar wasn't anywhere in sight, and she was grateful for that as well. She didn't want to talk to any of them. Not even Blythe.
"I've got the kettle on," Blythe said. "I don't know why, but whenever there is a crisis of any sort, tea always seems to make it better. Do you drink it?"
Anya nodded. "There was an older gentleman who would occasionally come to the shelters when I was a child. Everyone knew he didn't belong there. He was class, pure class."
Blythe took her through the house to the kitchen, and Anya found a small comfortable chair she could curl up into while Blythe made the tea. She was grateful Blythe hadn't asked about Reaper. Not yet. She needed time to gather her composure. Blythe seemed to understand that.
"His name was Chandler Barret. He talked about his mother making tea the proper way. He said she used the ritual to calm everyone down if they'd had a bad time or were angry." She lifted her gaze to Blythe's. "I think this qualifies for both, don't you?"
"Absolutely it does," Blythe answered. She looked up from where she was putting together a tray. "There's plenty of tissue right there. And if you need to scream, do it. Just please don't smash my dishes. These are the ones I never use around the children."
Anya found herself capable of a small smile and that amazed her. Astounded her. Maybe Blythe really did work miracles. "Why do they all think you can fix anything? Even before Reaper, when I first was bartending, and around the others so much, I heard them talking about you like you could walk on water."
Blythe sent her a small smile in return as she poured boiling water into the teapot. "Czar thinks I walk on water and can fix anything, so he convinced all of them. He brought me the three girls: Darby, Zoe and Emily. The club brought me Kenny. I expect there will be others."
"Do you mind?"
"The children? No, I love them. I won't mind more if they need a home and family. We'll give it to them. I can't give birth to children, and I've found it doesn't matter, although I would have loved to have a little replica of Czar running around." She gave a little laugh. "Kenny might just be that. He walks like him and talks like him. He does all the little things that Czar does. He worships that man."
"They all do."
"He saved them. Well, he taught them how to save themselves by banding together. Each had specific roles and carried them out. He saved their lives, and he'
s expecting me to save their souls. That's what he says anyway." She picked up the tray. "Let's go into the other room. The chairs are comfortable in there."
Anya thought the chairs were comfortable enough in the kitchen, but she followed Blythe into the spacious great room and waited until she put the tray down. No one else appeared to be in the house. "Where is everyone?"
"The children are sleeping. Anya, it's two in the morning."
Anya was used to the night hours. She glanced out the window into the darkness. She hadn't heard the motorcycles start up. In fact, she'd heard a few more arrive. "Of course. I work at night, so I lose track of time. Why don't they all go home?" She waved toward the outside.
Blythe understood her gesture. "You're family and you're hurting. That means they hurt. I hurt. None of us likes it, Anya."
Anya's hands were shaky as she accepted the teacup. She wrapped both hands around it, needing the warmth. "Reaper cheated with some club woman. I've seen her around." She ducked her head and forced air into her lungs. "I was willing to do anything for him. He has so many issues and it isn't easy being with him, but I thought he was worth it."
Blythe stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea. "He does have issues," she agreed. "All of them do. Still, like you, I believe they're worth it and whoever has the courage to stand with them will have someone who will love and care for them all the way to the end. I believe Reaper is like that, Anya. I don't know how this all came to be, but I do think you have the right to know. You have the right to look him in the eyes and demand an explanation."
"I thought I'd do that," Anya admitted and took a small sip of the hot tea. She needed it. She was shaking with cold. Or shock. It didn't matter which it was. The heat of the tea seeped into her chilled cells, trying to warm her. "But then I realized an explanation didn't really matter. I saw him with my own eyes."
"What did you see?" Blythe asked. "Every detail. Tell me."