The MC Sinners Series 2 - Heaven's sinners Read online

  “He’s here because he feels guilty...like he has to be here for the sake of Chey. I’m a pity case. He wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

  Addi gives me a look, and crosses her arms. “That’s not true, and you know it. He’s going to get hold of you, so you might as well get your cute ass out there and face him.”

  “Or,” I say, turning and hurrying toward the back entrance, “I could go out here and...”

  “You fuckin’ take one more step toward that door, and I’ll fuckin’ drop you, Ciara.”

  Stiffening at the icy voice, I slowly turn to see Spike standing at the end of the hall. He’s panting, bloody and wild with anger. Oh shit. Addi even takes a step back, which is odd for her, because she’s usually cocky around Spike.

  “Addison, get your fuckin’ ass out front now. Your man is lookin’ for you, and he ain’t happy. Don’t even fuckin’ dare to open those pretty lips and smart mouth me.”

  Addi turns, giving me a sorry expression. “I gotta go, call me,” she whispers.

  “Addison!” I yell, but she’s already hurrying past Spike and out into the bar.

  I stand at the end of the hall, staring at the angry biker in front of me. Seriously, part of me is still contemplating turning and running. It’s not a bad plan, considering how angry Spike is right now. His eyes are flaring, his lips tight...he’s mega pissed. Sure, I know I deserve it, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to go willingly. I lift my foot and take a step backwards, and I can see him visibly stiffen. His brown eyes flash with anger, and his jaw ticks. Shit. He’s gone far and beyond pissed.

  “I’m not fucking with you, Ciara. You fuckin’ take one step, and I’ll put you over my motherfuckin’ shoulder. You turn around, get over here, and do as you’re fuckin’ told.”

  Not going to happen. I spin quickly, and run toward the door. I manage to get to it, out of it, and halfway across the car lot before he gets hold of me. His fingers curl around my arm and he hauls me backwards, so hard that I slam into his body. His arm goes down and wraps around my waist, pressing my back to his chest. His other arm releases mine, and moves up and over my chest. He’s got me fully secured now, and even with my best squirming efforts, I can hardly move.

  “Are you fuckin’ stupid? Didn’t anyone teach you not to piss off an already pissed off biker?” he growls into my ear.

  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to manhandle a woman?” I cry, struggling in his grips.

  “Ain’t no woman here.”

  “Fuck you, Spike.”

  “Been there, done that, wasn’t memorable.”

  That asshole. I lift my leg and shove it backwards, right into his knee. He bellows and lets me go, and I lurch forward. Lunging towards me, he catches my ankle and I fall, hard.

  I land on my stomach, arms out in front of me, face centimeters from the dirt. He keeps hold of my ankle as I thrash and try to kick him enough to make him let go. Grunting, he crawls up my body, flattening his over mine. I shudder. I’m ashamed that I do, because right now I want to punch him, but it happens. A ripple of life runs through my body at the feeling of his hard, sexy body pressing against my back. I won’t lie; I’ve wanted to fuck Spike again since the day he took my virginity, but there’s no way I’d swallow my pride and admit that to him now.

  He leans down so he’s close to my ear, his breath hot against it. “We’re goin’ to get up, walk toward my bike, get on it and leave. If you try and run, I’ll fuckin’ knock you out and throw you on unconscious.”

  He probably would too. Asshole.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spit, squirming.

  “Yeah, you are. Can argue all fuckin’ morning about it, or you can get up, get on my bike and I can take you home.”

  “Why are you even here?” I growl. “You hate me.”

  “Coz’ there ain’t no other fucker wantin’ to save your ass.”

  That hurts, because he’s right. No one else would want to save my ass. Not one person except him, and he doesn’t even like me. That says a lot about my life.

  “Fine,” I whisper, my voice having lost its spark. “Just take me home.”

  He lifts his body off mine, and I feel his muscles moving against my back. Dammit. I manage to push myself up on my hands and knees, groaning as I do. I hear a distinct hiss, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s because I’m on my knees, flashing my ass at him, and I’m wearing nothing more than a G-string under a short skirt. I quickly push myself into a kneeling position. My cheeks flush red, and I don’t dare to turn and see his expression. He’s probably disgusted. His precious Cheyenne would have never worn something so...so...trashy. I peer down at my knees and see there’s dots of blood all over them.

  “You gave me bloody knees, you jerk-off.”

  He snorts, and I turn to look at him. He’s staring down at me, looking so completely breathtaking, it’s almost blinding. His arms are crossed, and his jeans have patches of dirt covering them. Fuck him for being so beautiful. It should be illegal.

  “You gave me no choice,” he grinds out. “Now get up.”

  I get to my feet, and dust myself off.

  “Don’t know what my sister ever saw in you, chauvinistic pig,” I mumble under my breath.

  “Say it out loud, Ciara. It won’t be nothin’ you haven’t fuckin’ spat at me before.”

  I lift my head and glare at him. “Just take me home.”

  “With fuckin’ pleasure.”

  I turn, and begin walking toward his bike. I know Spike’s bike—I’ve been on the back of it many times, back when he actually liked me. That was a time I think about often. Before Chey decided she wanted him, Spike and I were great friends. Up until the night he fucked me to get to my sister.

  I lift the helmet off the seat, and pull it down over my head. Spike grips his, doing the same before climbing onto the seat and starting the 105th Anniversary, Black and Gold, Softail Deluxe. It’s a beautiful bike. I climb onto the back, and put my hands on my knees. With a growl, Spike reaches back, gripping my fingers and pulling them around his waist. As soon as he lets them go, I quickly pull them back.

  “I know how to be a passenger on a bike, Spike. You were the one who taught me how to sit, and not have to hold on.”

  He exhales loudly and angrily, before reaching back for my hands. I lift them in the air.

  “For fucks sake, Ciara. Give me your fuckin’ hands. I’m not in the mood to fuck around with you. I know I taught you how to hold on, but you haven’t been on a fuckin’ bike in years.”

  Dammit, he’s right. Sighing in defeat, I put my hands on his sides, tangling my fingers through the belt loop holes on his faded jeans.

  He walks the bike out of the parking spot, and then starts it, pulling the throttle and sending it forward. When his boots are up on the pegs, I relax a little. I’ve always hated the taking off part - call me paranoid.

  Spike pulls out onto the highway, and picks up speed. The wind is cool against my face, and I close my eyes, breathing it in. I’ve always loved being on the back of his bike, we used to do it all the time. He used to pick me up each day for work and together we’d ride around, hanging out, just doing what friends do.

  Then Cheyenne came into the picture.

  Spike takes me to my tiny apartment, and it surprises me that he knows where it is. He stops in the driveway, and turns the bike off.

  My heart begins to pound because I’m tired of all the fighting, and yet I can’t see it stopping anytime soon. I don’t want any more of it tonight. Maybe I should just walk inside, shut the door in his face and lock it. Yeah right - I know as well as he does, that won’t happen. I’m too nice. That’s what I’ve been told anyway. I can’t turn people away. I’m always trying to fix things. That’s what you get, for trying to be a good person.

  “You’re bleedin’,” Spike says simply after we’re both off the bike.

  I glance down at my knees. The blood is running down my legs now, and over my toes. Super.

 
“It’s fine, I’ll sort it.”

  “My fault,” he grunts. “I’ll fix it.”

  I look up, and for a moment our eyes meet and I see something else behind his hard, angry expression. Maybe it’s a speck of the boy I used to adore so much.

  “It’s fine,” I whisper. “We both know you don’t really want to help me.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ tell me how I feel.”

  “You told me to go and die last month,” I point out, crossing my arms.

  He flinches. “I was fuckin’ mad that you came back tryin’ to get my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m fuckin’ mad that you’re here trying to help me when you’ve done nothing but treat me like shit for years.”

  His eyes widen. I’m not really sure if it’s because I swore in the same tone he did, or if my words actually surprise him.

  “Never made false promises to you, Ciara.”

  My mouth drops open. “Are you serious?” I cry. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know how I felt about you, Spike. We were the best of friends, and you knew I had feelings there, yet you still chose to use me to get to my sister. Don’t stand here and pretend you didn’t know what you were doing. You fucked me, you took my virginity, all to get back at her.”

  His eyes scan my face a moment, then he shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “You wanted that fuck, Ciara. You wanted me to fuck you from the minute you turned eighteen.”

  I’m shaking now. “I wanted you to feel it, that’s what I wanted. I wanted, no, I needed to be more than just a revenge fuck and yet that’s all I was. You came up to me that night, you made me feel like a fucking queen and all along, it was you just seeking out a way to make Cheyenne pay. I didn’t expect you to care about me, Spike, because clearly you didn’t, but I did expect that you would have respected me more than that, being that you were my friend,” I stop speaking, and run a shaky hand through my hair. “I thought I meant a little more to you, but I was wrong. You hurt me. You fucked me on my first time, when you should have made love. If you couldn’t have done that, you should have never come for me. You could have gone and got your revenge with some dirty slut, but no, you chose to rip my virginity from me by making me think you cared...”

  He jerks at my words, and for a moment, his hand moves as if he wants to reach for me, but he quickly drops it.

  “It wasn’t...”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard enough... I heard enough when you whispered sweet nothings in my ear. It doesn’t matter in the end. You and Cheyenne deserved each other because you were both fake and selfish.”

  He growls now. “Don’t talk about her like that!”

  “Why not?” I scream. “Why can’t I talk about your precious wife like that? She was the sunshine in everyone’s lives. She was the perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect god damned sister and what was I? Nothing more than a thorn in all of your sides. I never compared, I never even came close. She lapped it up, every fucking second of it. She had you all wrapped around her finger and she knew it. She didn’t even want you, Spike, she only did it because I wanted you. She always had to have what I wanted. Screw you, I hate you as much as I fucking hate her!”

  Tears are streaming down my face now and I spin, rushing toward my front door. He never should have gotten that much emotion from me. He doesn’t deserve it.

  My words were unfair, and a big part of me knows that. To Spike, Cheyenne was the prefect wife. She adored him. She treated him well. She was sweet and kind. To me, she was my sister, and I loved her, but I also knew what she was like deep down. Spike was never the man she wanted for herself. She had feelings for him, and yes, she grew to love him, but it was only because of me that she began to look in the first place.

  “Ciara, don’t fuckin’ walk away...”

  I spin around. “Fuck you. I never said that to you, and I should have. I’ve been all over the place with this. For the longest time, I blamed you for her death, but that was my hurt coming out over you, it wasn’t because of fact. When I realized it was unfair and it wasn’t your fault, I came back and tried to make it better. I tried to make it better for the man who was once my friend, but you shot me down. So I’m saying what should have been said, from the very moment you started using me to get to her. Fuck you, Danny!”

  We’re both quiet for a long moment, eyes meeting, hearts pounding. It’s him that speaks.

  “I might deserve that, but I wasn’t the only one who fucked up.”

  I glare at him. “No, you weren’t. That’s the problem. I know I fucked up too, but I’m trying, Spike. I’m trying to fix what I broke.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ to be fixed. I was done with you years ago, and nothin’ you can do will ever get that back. You need to get that in your head, and leave it there, Ciara.”

  “You know what’s so pathetic about this situation?” I rasp, my hands shaking. “It’s that no matter how angry I am at you, no matter how many times you spit hurtful words at me, or how many times I keep telling myself to walk away, I can’t. I want to save you. I want that friend that I know is in there. I can’t walk away, Spike. I hate you, and yet I can’t walk away.”

  His eyes are full of anger and pain when he spits out his next words. “Don’t want you to fuckin’ save me, Ciara. Don’t want you in my fuckin’ life. When will you get that through your head? I don’t want to be in your life. I didn’t chose you, I chose her. You need to fuckin’ move on. I am not the same person I was before.”

  I laugh, even though hot tears are running down my cheeks. I won’t let him break me now. Not after everything I’ve fought for. His words burn, they wrap around my heart and squeeze so tightly I struggle to breathe.

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I know that person is in there, and I won’t stop until I find something inside you worth believing in again.

  “So keep trying, Spike. You can spit hateful words at me as much as you want. You might have given up on the friendship we built all those years ago, but I didn’t. I never did, and as much as you hate it, I never will.”

  Then I spin, and I walk inside before he can say another word. Spike needs to know someone isn’t going to give up on him. He needs to know someone is willing to fight. My head is screaming at me to turn him away and run, but my heart is telling me to stay and fight for what I believe in.

  And I believe in him.

  Somewhere inside, I know he’s still there.

  CHAPTER 2

  PRESENT - CIARA

  I stand at the door for long moments, wiping my eyes and gathering myself. I hear his Harley start up, and speed off. With a deep breath, I turn, and make my way into the kitchen. Just as I reach the counter, my phone rings. Sighing, I look down and see Addi’s name flashing on the screen. I bet she got in big trouble for our behavior tonight. We were only having fun, but when you’re dating a biker, you don’t do that kind of thing. Not without your man by your side, anyway. Cade trusts her, and he’s fairly easygoing when it comes to letting her go out, but Addi has far too much spunk for her own good and ends up in trouble more often than not.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to make my voice sound reasonably normal.

  “Hey honey, are you ok?”

  “I should be asking the same thing...”

  She laughs softly. “Yeah, I’m ok. Make-up sex fixes everything.”

  “Ah,” I cry. “TMI, Addi!”

  She giggles. “Yeah, well, it keeps him calm. Speaking of, how did you and Spike end the night? You weren’t removing anything...were you?”

  Addi knows about Spike’s little fetishes. Having a woman remove his piercings is one of them.

  When he was with me, I didn’t get a chance to do it. He took them out himself. Well, actually, he didn’t take them out as such - he just removed the spikes. They are these little spikey ends that slide over the ends of the barbells. Still, he enjoys making a woman pull them off...with her mouth...so I’ve heard.

  I snort. “No, that
did not happen. I care about myself far more. He dropped me off, and left. It was fine,” I lie.

  “Well, now I know you’re lying because I can hear you’ve been crying.”

  “Damn you, Addi.”

  She chuckles again. “Well, I rang to give you a heads up. Another angry, over-protective biker is about to pull up in your driveway.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Cade.”

  “Aw, Addi, did you send Cade over?” I groan.

  “He’s angry at you, but mostly he’s worried because you left with Spike. I couldn’t stop him, you know what he’s like. He’s known you as long as Spike has, he cares about you.”

  I grumble under my breath, “Damn bikers.”

  Addi snorts. “Yeah, you got that right. I’m going to bed now, my head’s beginning to hurt...stupid shots. I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”

  “Yeah, thanks babe.”

  I hang up the phone and sigh. Cade, great, just what I need. Another big, bad, biker lecture. I’m grateful it’s going to come from Cade, though. He’s always been the nicest towards me, Jackson coming in at a close second. Addi is very lucky to have them both in her life. They’d die a million times over for her. She had a rough life, and is only just coming good after a very recent kidnapping that nearly ended badly for her. Since then, her and Cade have been inseparable, and I can understand why. It scared the life out of him when she was taken. Jackson too. I am glad to have found a friend in Addi, over the past weeks we have gotten closer. It’s nice to have someone.

  I hear the rumble of the Harley-Davidson long before it pulls into my drive. Sighing, I quickly pull on some pajama bottoms and slip on an old, baggy shirt. Cade really doesn’t need to see me in my tiniest skirt. I hear the sound of his boots crunching up the path, and then I hear his fist banging on the door. Bikers; they never do anything quietly. I stand there for a moment, contemplating whether to let him in or pretend I’m asleep. Mean, I know, but Cade always overreacts. I don’t know if I can deal with anymore flaw pointing tonight.

  “Open up, Tom Cat. Know you’re in there.”