Unattainable Page 15

  “Tough fuckin’ shit,” he said, already turning away from me. Ignoring me. Treating me like I was one of his motherfucking leather-clad minions.

  “You fucking asshole!” I screamed, forgetting myself entirely. “You are not my prez! You are not my father! You are not my fucking boss! You cannot tell me what the fuck to do anymore!”

  Slowly, menacingly, Deuce turned back around to face me. “I ain’t your father?” He sneered. “Who’s been keepin’ clothes on your back and food in your belly all these years? Who’s been payin’ for that expensive-as-shit apartment in Cali? Who’s been sending cash your way, keepin’ you and ZZ ahead of the motherfuckin’ game?”

  “I’ve told you I don’t need your money!” I screamed, uncaring that my voice was bordering on shrill. I was trembling from head to toe and tears were forming. “I tell you every goddamn week when you call and so does ZZ! Whatever jobs you’ve been sending him on, he seems to be doing just fucking fine! But you have to stick your fat head in where it doesn’t belong because God forbid you don’t control every single little thing around you! Well, I don’t need you, Deuce! I don’t need this club! I never fucking did!”

  Nostrils flaring, his face red with rage, Deuce stared me down. “Cage!” he bellowed, his eyes still on me. “Get your latest piece of ASS the fuck outta my face before I start blowin’ fuckin’ holes in skulls!”

  “You sexist, self-righteous FUCK!” I screamed, and lunged forward, lunging for Deuce. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I got to him, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I wanted to get to him, punch him, strangle him, kick him in the balls, something, anything. I just wanted to hurt him.

  But I never reached him. I was tackled from the side, lifted straight up off the floor, and carried quickly from the room.

  “I hate you!” I screamed in Deuce’s direction. “I fucking hate you!”

  • • •

  Cage threw open his bedroom door, stalked inside, kicked it shut behind him, and tossed Tegen’s thrashing body onto his bed. She immediately scrambled into a sitting position and made to jump off the bed but he was on her in a flash, yanking her legs out from under her, straddling her hips, and holding her arms out at her sides.

  His heart thudding erratically inside his chest, Cage glared down at her. He couldn’t care less that she’d gotten in yet another verbal brawl with his father. He couldn’t care less that she’d been only inches from slugging Deuce in the face and subsequently getting her ass kicked for it. He couldn’t give two motherfucking shits that Tegen was never going to change; she was always going to act before thinking, mouthing off to anyone, anywhere, not realizing the consequences. He didn’t even care that she hated the club.

  All he cared about, all he could think about, the one thing that stuck out over everything his old man and she had shouted at each other was…

  ZZ.

  No one, not one fucking brother, not even Mick knew where ZZ was. Deuce had told everyone awhile back that ZZ wasn’t their concern anymore and to stop asking questions because he wasn’t going to answer them.

  Who’s been sending cash your way, keepin’ you and ZZ ahead of the motherfuckin’ game?

  What did that fucking mean? That ZZ was in Cali? Or that ZZ was in Cali with Tegen?

  “Get off me, you stupid fuck!” Tegen screamed, trying desperately to pull her arms out from under his grip.

  Stupid. Fuck.

  He lost it. He just fucking lost it. His head was already a mess, feeling all sorts of crazy shit he wasn’t familiar with, and Tegen’s last stab at him sent him over the damn edge.

  “ZZ!” he roared. “Motherfuckin’ ZZ!”

  Tegen blinked up at him.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “You heard me,” he gritted out. “Now, fuckin’ spill. You and ZZ in Cali together? Livin’ together?”

  She hesitated; just a tiny shift of her eyes, a movement so small he wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t been staring directly at her. Cursing, he shoved off her and got to his feet. Running his hands through his hair, he turned around and before he could think, he just reacted and sent his booted foot straight into the wall. Feelings were coursing through him, feelings he couldn’t decipher, along with a sudden rage he couldn’t control.

  He spun back around and found Tegen sitting upright in his bed, glaring at him.

  Tegen. ZZ. It wasn’t computing.

  It was Tegen, for Christ’s sake. The bitch had been obsessed with him her entire fucking life and now, this weekend, with everything that had happened…

  He was feeling her. He was motherfucking into this. And all along she’d had someone back home, not just anybody but one of his motherfucking brothers.

  He’d been so sure she still loved him. How the fuck had he read that wrong?

  “You fuckin’ him?” he demanded.

  Her green eyes blazed with pure rage; she was working up to launching herself straight off his bed, nails ready to claw his eyes out, whatever it took. He had to hand it to her—for being such a slip of a woman, she had balls of steel. But what the fuck ever, he didn’t give two fucks how pissed she was about anything anymore. All these years he’d been taking flack for something he’d done while she’d been secretly shacking up with one of his brothers.

  Her bullshit was going to end right the fuck now.

  “Answer me, bitch!” he yelled.

  She glared at him, unblinking, unmoving, without remorse. He could see it in her eyes. She didn’t give a fuck that she’d just jumped beds. She hated the club that fucking much. She hated him that much.

  “Answer me!” he roared.

  “Yes!” she hissed.

  SHIT! Why did he even care?

  She hadn’t been Teacup in a long time, she was just another bitch, another fucking whore who jumped from brother to brother.

  So he’d liked fucking her, so fucking what? So ZZ liked fucking her too, who the fuck cared?

  He was going to puke. He was going to motherfucking puke.

  For the first time he actually wanted a girl to stick around and despite all the fighting, he liked spending time with her. Jesus. He’d wanted more. He’d stupidly wanted what his brothers had, he’d wanted it for a long time now, and he’d stupidly wanted it from Tegen.

  He was a fucking moron. His old man was right. He was King fucking Stupid.

  “Looks like you turned out just like your fuckin’ mom after all,” he spat, hitting her where he knew it would be the most painful.

  He didn’t wait for a response, her eyes went saucer-wide and he whipped around, yanked open the door, and stormed off down the hall.

  “You knew!” he yelled as he passed into the main room, pointing to where his father stood. “You fuckin’ knew Tegen was in Z’s bed,” he continued, “and you didn’t say a motherfuckin’ word to me!”

  “What? Tegen and ZZ what?”

  Cage noticed for the first time that Danny and Ripper had shown up along with their daughter, and Danny looked…not happy.

  “Tegen’s what?” she demanded. “With who?”

  He ignored her. He was too pumped up; he felt inside how Tegen had looked when facing off with his old man, trembling with rage, ready at any moment to explode and hoping like fucking hell when he did explode he’d be taking his father out with him.

  Deuce’s eyes narrowed. “You for real, right now? Am I a fuckin’ datin’ service? You been stickin’ your shit in any hole that’ll take it, so what the fuck makes Tegen any damn different?”

  Cage imploded.

  “BECAUSE SHE’S TEGEN!” he roared. “She’s fuckin’ mine!”

  His father’s unapologetic, unwavering stare did nothing but further upset him.

  “Are you gonna fuckin’ say something’?” Cage demanded. “Or you just gonna stand there?”

  “Where is ZZ?” Danny interjected, shoving in between him and their father. “In San Francisco?”

  Cage opened his mouth, ready to tell her to go fuck herself, when
Ripper beat him to it. Glaring, Ripper grabbed Danny’s arm and yanked her out from between them.

  “Why do you give a fuck where ZZ is?” Ripper growled.

  “Oh, shut up!” Danny snapped, yanking her arm from his grip. “We’ve all been worried about him. Don’t act like this is about anything more than that!”

  “Z lives with her,” Deuce said and all eyes shot to him. “When he’s not on the road, and he’s on the road more often than not.”

  “On the road doin’ what?” Ripper asked.

  Deuce turned to Ripper, staring at the man but didn’t so much as blink. Cage, Ripper, and everyone else in the club knew exactly what that meant.

  “Jesus,” Ripper said under his breath. “Z? Z’s doin’ that shit?”

  Nobody said a word, because everyone already knew what “that shit” meant. Deuce had Z on the front lines, taking care of all the dirty business and overseeing it firsthand. It was gutter work, mostly bid out to nomads who couldn’t give a fuck if they lived or died.

  “How long?” he demanded, referring to Tegen and ZZ.

  Deuce stared at him. “Does it fuckin’ matter?”

  “HOW FUCKIN’ LONG?” Cage yelled.

  “Years,” Deuce replied, his voice tight with anger.

  Years. Motherfucking years.

  The nausea came back, this time worse.

  What the fuck was going on? Did she love ZZ? The very thought of her rolling off him only to hop back on ZZ was making him want to not just slap the bullshit out of her but beat her fucking face in.

  He couldn’t even fathom it, it was just so…

  Fuck.

  Tegen and ZZ…together? ZZ was too old for her. ZZ wasn’t just too old for her, ZZ was in over his head in some dangerous shit. Anybody, any one of the Horsemen’s enemies could follow him home and use Tegen against the club.

  Fuck that. No way. She obviously didn’t love the motherfucker if she’d been more than happy to be choking on his dick for the past two days.

  His fists clenched.

  If Tegen was going to be in any brother’s bed, it was going to be his. It was him who she’d been fucking obsessed with all these years; it was him who’d popped her shit; it was him who’d fucked her, he couldn’t even count how many times, over the past two days. Him. Her. No one else.

  Jesus.

  Fuck it.

  He didn’t even care how ridiculous he knew he sounded; he was just that out of his mind with anger and, fuck him straight to hell, jealousy.

  Anger because she was going to split on him the second his old man lifted lockdown. Jealousy because it was ZZ she was going to be going home to. Jealousy because he was pretty positive whatever Tegen and ZZ had together, if it had lasted years already, that she wasn’t just going to quit the guy’s dick cold turkey because Cage had her during the last few days. And more anger because, why the fuck didn’t his old man tell him anything? Anything at all!

  If he would have known, he never would have touched the bitch! He would have let her fucking bullshit piss him off as usual, but he would have sat on that shit instead of acting on it. Acting on it, despite the fucking awesome sex, hadn’t gotten him anywhere but dug in deeper inside the mess that was Tegen Matthews.

  Now it was too damn late. He was dug in way too deep. He wanted more and he wasn’t going to wait for that feeling to come back again, with someone else, not after years of having boring, pointless sex with far more women than he was going to ever admit to, not after having what felt like the best sex in his entire fucking life with that crazy bitch. Because, shit, what if it didn’t ever come back? What if this was it? Say, he didn’t scoop this bitch up right here and now, and instead he waited for a less crazy bitch, with a lot less baggage, to come along but instead he ended up like Tap. Old and alone.

  He was so fucking sick of being alone.

  “Ellie?” Danny shrieked from behind him. His sister suddenly shoved past him and went running for the front door where, holy fuck, Ellie was standing, dressed in full leather, holding a helmet under her arm. And walking in behind her…

  Cage’s eyebrows popped up.

  “Is that Dirty?” Ripper whispered. “Or did Prez start handin’ out cuts to pretty boys?”

  “Meeting!” Deuce bellowed.

  “First order of business,” Ripper said dryly. “Does Dirty need a new name?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Meeting!” Deuce yelled again, pointing to his office. “Right the fuck now!”

  Ignoring the gaping stares of everyone inside the clubhouse, Dirty turned to Ellie, who was still wrapped up in Danny’s arms while the girl jumped up and down and squealed.

  “I, uh, I have to go,” he said, frowning at Danny’s back, wondering why the fuck she wasn’t letting go of Ellie.

  Ellie gave him a small smile. “I’ll be fine,” she said and let out a little laugh. “I’m in good hands.”

  Danny finally surfaced and glanced up at Dirty, and then back to Ellie. “I’m confused,” she said. “Did you two come here toge—”

  Danny stopped talking and abruptly swung her gaze back to Dirty. And just stared.

  Dirty truly liked Danny; she was one of the few people he could stand to have touch him. They’d gotten to know each other fairly well a few years back when she’d been down and out over Ripper leaving, but she didn’t know jack shit when it came to his past or what he did in his spare time. And he aimed to keep it that way.

  “Oh my God, Dirty,” she whispered and Dirty flinched, dreading what she was going to say next. “You look so—”

  Ellie snatched Danny’s arm. “Danny,” she said. “Please tell me you have something other than leather I can wear, I’m begging you. I’m sweating like crazy. I think even my knees are sweating.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Danny said, looking flustered. “Just let me grab Harley and we can go to mine and Ripper’s room, I have a ton of stuff in there.” Before they walked off, both women shot him one last look. Danny’s was full of confusion but Ellie’s was…

  She gave him a knowing smile. And that’s when it clicked.

  She hadn’t been sweating, or maybe she had, but that wasn’t why she’d asked Danny for clothing. She’d been protecting him. Just like earlier when she’d very slowly wrapped her arms around his middle, stopping when he’d started to freak out, giving him time to adjust to it.

  She was protecting him from himself.

  Her wearing his jacket. Her protecting him. Her smiling at him; a secret smile that only the two of them knew the meaning behind it.

  His breathing grew uneven. Then he found himself picturing her naked again, seeing her standing there in his bathroom doorway, her hair wet, hanging long down her body, her huge breasts, tipped in large dark nipples, heaving with deep breaths, the dark triangle of hair covering her pussy…

  His dick punched forward.

  “What…the…fuck.”

  Dirty shoved at Cox, whose face had suddenly appeared only inches in front of his own.

  “Seriously, brother,” Ripper said, having joined them, studying Dirty. “I didn’t know you had skin under all that fuckin’ hair and filth.”

  “You are Dirty, right?” Cox continued, looking him up and down.

  “Naw, dude,” Ripper said, grinning. “He ain’t. He’s clean.”

  Cox snorted. “Nice one,” he said and held up his fist. Ripper bumped it with his own and then they both went back to studying him.

  “Fuck off,” he muttered to both of them. “And back the fuck up.”

  Cox shrugged. “Whatever, dude, but you know, I can’t really help myself. You’re lookin’ really fuckin’ sexy.”

  The corner of Dirty’s mouth lifted and he started to relax for the first time in days. At the club he could be the man he wished he really was. He could shoot the shit, joke around, talk about women the way the other boys did. It didn’t matter that it was all show and that most of his brothers knew how shit really went down for him in the bedroom. Not that any of them knew
why he dosed the club sluts, but neither did they ask.

  “Speakin’ of sexy,” Ripper said. “Ellie kinda bottomed out in the ass, yeah? Whatcha doin’ with her anyway? Is that what this meeting’s about?”

  “I’d still fuck her,” Cox said. “Her face is still bangin’. Who gives a fuck about her ass?”

  Ripper burst out laughing. “Dude, you just miss ass ’cause your old lady ain’t got one.”

  “Fuck you,” Cox shot back. “I miss pussy. Period. I don’t give a fuck what’s packin’ in the back, I just want some goddamn fuckin’ pussy. I’m ’bout ready to blow and fill Kami up with all the fuckin’ spank juice she wants.”

  “Fuckin’-A,” Ripper said, backing away, looking disgusted. “Keep your Sparky Marky and the Spunky Funk stories to your fuckin’ self.”

  “I am!” Cox shouted. “That’s the fuckin’ problem!”

  “MEETING!” Deuce roared, spurring the three of them into action, jogging across the room and into Deuce’s office. The table was filled except for Ripper and Cox’s designated seats, so Dirty headed for the back of the room and took a seat beside Anger on one of Deuce’s two leather sofas.

  Once everyone was seated and had shut up, Deuce turned to him. He watched his prez give him a long once-over but, unlike everyone else, Deuce didn’t comment.

  “Tell ’em,” Deuce said. “Start from the beginnin’.”

  As if it weren’t bad enough they were all staring at him like a circus sideshow freak.

  But he sucked it up, his all-over-the-place emotions and crazy thoughts, and explained to everyone what had gone down. From his ride, to hearing Ellie scream, to finding her in the alleyway with Officer Dipshit, to today on the street. He told them all of it and what he missed, Deuce filled in for him.

  “Yeah,” Tap said. “Fucker is definitely playing games. He musta made you in that alleyway, Dirty, knew the Horsemen had her from the get-go. Ain’t no man stupid enough to take it to this level on a fuckin’ hunch.”

  “He knows we need him for this deal to go through,” Ripper said. “I guarantee he’s gonna play that card tryin’ to get at Ellie.”