Rocket (Hell's Handlers MC 5)

She shot forward, going toe to toe with him as though he couldn’t snap her in half with his pinky finger. “Fuck you,” she growled.

“Any time you want. Hell, I’ll even bring the cuffs.”

“Screw this. I’m leaving,” she marched past him, heading for the door.

Shit! Could he have handled that any fucking worse? The woman drove him out of his mind. He caught her wrist as she was halfway out the door.

She spun, spitting fire with her eyes. Her mouth opened, no doubt to blast him once again.

“You can leave,” he said. “But I’ll follow. I’ll stay out of your way, but I can’t let you walk when there is a chance you could be hurt again.”

Her chest heaved with the force of her fury.

“The club needs me here to help with this threat. If I’m gone, that’s one less man around to make sure the problem is solved, and the rest of the women are protected. You may hate me and the men who run this club, but you don’t hate the women. They’re strong, and fierce, and have all overcome tremendous obstacles. They’re good women who don’t deserve this danger.”

She didn’t relax, but her shoulders slumped in defeat. “You play dirty.”

“I’ll do whatever I need to, to get you to stay.”

“Fine,” she spat out still facing the door. “A few days. That’s it. And you stay the fuck away from me.”

Shit. Guess that meant he wasn’t going to be able to sweet talk her into letting him sleep beside her.

“If you make a list of some things you might need, I’ll swing by your place and grab them for you.”

Looking him straight in the eye, she said. “Don’t bother. I don’t need anything from you.”

With a nod and a pit in his stomach, he walked around her and out the door. What else could he do? She’d left him no options.

She was done with him.

The question was, for how long?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ON THE MORNING of the second day of wallowing in whoever’s room she’d hijacked at the Handlers’ clubhouse, Chloe was officially sick of herself, and ready to rejoin the real world.

Or the biker world as it would be.

Okay, the whole being ready part wasn’t entirely true. Although she spent hours on end obsessing over every hour spent in Logan’s presence, she hadn’t come to terms with a few things.

The lies.

The fact that he’d been following her for a long time.

The fact that he’d slept with her. Repeatedly.

None of his actions made sense. Was she a charity case? Were his actions a product of guilt? Then, there were her personal feelings. A jumbled mess of conflicting emotions. Her rational brain was so furious over the lies, she couldn’t see a way to move past them. Then there was the irrational side of her that spent every moment since she’d kicked him out wondering what he was doing and who he was with. Basically, she was a hot freaking mess in the head.

Aside from the few times Steph and Izzy brought her food, everyone had respected her insistence on being left alone. Until now. The slightly scary, pregnant Izzy had barged into the room a few seconds ago, following one sharp rap on the door, and pretty much dragged Chloe off the bed by her ankles. “Okay, princess, no more hiding out in the castle.” She tossed some clothes Chloe’s way. Declining Logan’s—or rather Rocket’s—offer of clothing had come back to bite her, not that she’d admit it to him. A few fumbling grabs kept the garments from landing on the rug. “You got five minutes to put that on and meet me in the room next door.”

Chloe bristled as she dressed in the sports bra, tank, yoga pants, and running shoes. Princess? The last thing she was, was a freakin’ princess. With a near snarl, she yanked the door open, stormed past Izzy, and into the room next to hers. It took everything in her to ignore the snickers from the Amazon warrior trailing behind her.

“Whoa,” Chloe said as she stepped into what she’d assumed was going to be another bedroom. Instead, the large space had been cleared of all furniture save one overstuffed chair in the corner. Plush gym mats covered the floor from end to end. Someone had hung a heavy bag in one corner and a much smaller punching bag in the opposite corner. Izzy’s ol’ man, Jigsaw, was standing in the center of the room, also dressed for a workout.

“What’s all this?”

“Your first lesson,” Izzy said.

Jig gave his ol’ lady a stern look then pointed to the chair. “Sit that tight ass down, baby.”

Scowling, Izzy stomped to the chair and plopped down. “Happy?” Jig’s back was to her, so she stuck her tongue out in a childish gesture Chloe never would have expected from her.

In a failed attempted to mask her chuckle, Chloe hid her mouth behind her hand.