Manacle (MC Sinners Next Generation #3) Read online

  “He’s in his room, but honey, are you sure you want to go charging in there?”

  I stop mid-stride. “Is he not alone?”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just you two are like fire bombs when you’re angry at each other. He’s hurt. Remember how it must have felt to see you with Preston today? Don’t be too hard on him.”

  “He has no problem fucking other women, Ava. Not one single problem. Yet I’m not allowed to move on too? No, he doesn’t get to act like that.”

  “Skye . . .”

  I storm down the hall and right to Danny’s room. I don’t knock; I just fling the door open and charge inside. Danny is on the bench, pushing weights up and down, half-naked. Sweat glistens over his skin, and his body is thick and muscled. My breath catches in my throat and my knees go weak. God dammit. I wish my body would stop betraying me every single time I’m in a room with him.

  “Wondered when you’d come and give me a mouthful,” he says, not glancing at me.

  “Why’d you do that?” I ask.

  He lowers the weights and sits up, jerking a towel off a nearby chair and wiping his body. His muscles pulse from the workout, and they’re even bigger than they usually are. I have to look away because if I stare at him even a second longer I’ll drop my clothes and throw myself at him.

  “Do what? Upset pretty boy?”

  “Jesus, Danny, stop!” I exclaim. “Just stop.”

  He glances at me, holding my gaze. “Stop what? I don’t like him—wouldn’t matter who brought him in here. He’s a weasel.”

  I flinch. “He’s not a weasel. He’s kind and good to me.”

  “He’s also rich. Tell me, Skye, when is he going to take you on your beloved travelling spree?”

  I flinch again. “Stop it,” I whisper.

  “Hitting a nerve am I? We both know that man is not even close to being what you want, so there’s only one other reason you’re with him and that’s to get what you want.”

  “Why are you being like this?” I snap.

  He stands up, and his shorts drop low on his hips. My pulse quickens. “I’m not being like anything—what I’m doing is being honest. You’re the one who’s reacting because you can’t handle that I’m right.”

  “You’re not right. I like him.”

  Danny snorts and tosses the towel before crossing his arms. “That so?”

  “Yes, it’s so. Stop being an ass to him, Danny. I’m trying to move on with my life.”

  “He fuck you so hard you draw blood on his back as you run your nails down his skin?”

  I jerk. “Stop it.”

  “Does he eat your pussy so fuckin’ good you cry his name not once, but ten times?”

  “Danny, stop.”

  “Does he ride you so thoroughly you collapse onto the bed when he’s done, whimpering and arching for more?”

  “Stop!” I growl.

  Danny grins. “No, baby, he doesn’t. He probably fucks you real slow, real nice, real fuckin’ special, but it doesn’t feel good, does it? It doesn’t make your heart race; it doesn’t make your skin prickle; and it doesn’t make your body arch in pleasure. Want to know why that is?”

  “Danny,” I plead. “Just stop.”

  He steps closer, leaning down so his mouth is close to my ear. His breath tickles the skin there, and I break out in little goosebumps. “It’s because he’s not me, Skye. He’ll never fuck you the way I fucked you, and he’ll never, not fuckin’ ever, love you the way I love you.”

  He steps back and I shove his chest. “I hate you,” I cry, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I do. I fucking hate you.”

  “No, baby, you don’t. If you hated me, it wouldn’t matter to you what I thought of your fancy-ass boyfriend.”

  “You were in here fucking whores, but you have the nerve to stand here and make out like I’m the one with the problems?”

  He grins at me and I want to slap him. “You made the call to let me go. Not your place any longer to choose who I fuck.”

  I screech in frustration and launch my hand towards his face but he catches it before I’m even close, hauling my body up against his. His skin is hot and his body is hard, so beautifully hard. “You made the choice—you live with it,” he growls. “You can’t handle what I think of your little boyfriend, then don’t bring him around here.”

  He lets me go, and I stumble backwards before catching my footing. “I don’t know why I bothered coming here,” I whisper.

  “No,” he says, turning his back. “I don’t either. Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

  My heart cracks into a thousand tiny little pieces.

  I leave, and I shut the damned door behind me. Closing it on Danny and Skye for a final time.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “So you drive a fast car?” Dad says, his arms crossed, leaning against his bike.

  “Yeah,” Preston adds with a grin. “I like fast things—like the power behind them.”

  “Bet you couldn’t handle the speed of a bike,” Dad says. He grins. I groan. Mom looks to the sky.

  Preston stares at my dad. He might not be as rugged as these bikers, but he clearly knows what my dad is getting at and doesn’t want to be made a fool of in front of everyone. “It can’t be that hard. I like fast things. Don’t let my appearance fool you, Cade. I’m not a big pussy.”

  Dad’s grin gets bigger. “You prove that to me, I might just think you’re good enough for my baby girl because right now, I don’t think you are at all.”

  “Daddy,” I groan.

  Preston looks to me. “It’s okay, Skye. I can do this.”

  “It’s dangerous,” I say, holding his gaze.

  “He’s any kind of man at all,” Dad says¸ “he’ll prove it.”

  Preston flinches. I glare at my father.

  “I own one of the fastest cars in the state.” Preston grunts. “Speed doesn’t scare me and neither does a bike.”

  Oh. God.

  “I’ll happily laugh when you crash it, because cars and bikes are two different things.”

  Danny’s voice behind me has my back snapping straight. I don’t turn and look at him. I don’t even want to. Just seeing his face will make me angry right now. Or sad. Probably sad.

  Preston glares over my shoulder at him. “And I’ll happily laugh when I prove you wrong—speed is speed.”

  This is not going to end well. I step forward and curl my fingers around Preston’s bicep. “Maybe you shouldn’t do this. You don’t need to prove anything to them.”

  “I do,” he says, curling an arm around my waist. “I need to prove I’m good enough for you.”

  Danny snorts behind me. I ignore him, and it isn’t easy.

  “Please,” I whisper. “I don’t want this to go bad.”

  “It won’t. Trust me, okay?”

  I know it will, but there’s no stopping him. That’s written all over his face. I can only give him my support and pray to all things holy he does well.

  “Okay,” I say, stepping away from him and finally glancing at Danny who watches me, a pained expression on his face. It lasts a split second before his hard mask is back, but I saw it, and my heart instantly clenches. I’m hurting him. I hate that.

  God dammit, I hate it.

  “All right, boy,” Dad says, and we both turn to see him wheeling an old bike towards us.

  This is not good.

  Preston looks at the bike and steps over, extending his hand for the helmet Spike thrusts it at him, and it slams into his chest. “Do you have to be so harsh?” Preston snaps.

  It’s just getting worse.

  “Harden up, son,” Spike grunts.

  Someone kill me.

  Preston glares at Spike and then pulls the helmet over his head and turns, taking the bike from Dad. He throws a leg over and starts it up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. He lurches forward on the first twist of the throttle but manages to steady it. He does this a few more times before finally getting his foot off the g
round.

  Dad starts laughing as the bike wobbles about. Spike chuckles as the bike lurches and stops, lurches and stops. Danny grins as the bike hauls forward, and Preston’s yells can be heard for miles.

  He’s going to get hurt.

  I start running towards the bike that now flies full throttle towards a fence. Preston is yelling and carrying on, his legs flailing, his hands on the handlebars.

  “Skye!” Danny barks.

  “Pull the brake,” I scream at Preston. “Pull the brake.”

  He pulls the brake too hard, and the bike skids to a halt and his body launches over the handlebars. He hits the dust with a thud and I’m sprinting towards him now, calling his name. He pushes up from his spot on the ground and stands, tearing the helmet off.

  “Jesus Christ!” he yells to the sky. Blood runs down his elbow.

  “Are you okay?” I call, stopping in front of him, panting. “Preston?”

  “Was that bike tampered with?” Preston demands in the direction of my father, who has now stopped beside me.

  “Bike wasn’t tampered with,” Dad growls. “You just didn’t know how to ride it, and your pride got the better of you.”

  “Bull,” Preston yells. “You set it up for me to fail. You all did. I could have been killed.”

  “Son, calm down,” Spike warns. “I don’t want to have to make you.”

  “Don’t you even think about touching me,” Preston barks.

  Oh boy. Shit is about to get ugly.

  “Preston,” I say carefully, “we should go.”

  “Damned right I should go!” he snaps, turning and storming out the front gates.

  His car starts up in the lot, and the tires squeal as he speeds out. I turn to my father the second he’s gone. “Are you proud of yourself?” I snap.

  He crosses his arms. “He’s not good enough for you, Skye.”

  “That’s not your choice to make!” I scream so loudly he flinches. “I’m so done with this club and your attempt at controlling my life. And you all wonder why I’m not here anymore. I hope you’re ashamed of yourselves.”

  “Skye, honey,” Mom says carefully. “Preston brought that upon himself.”

  I spin to her, tears running down my cheeks. “To try and prove he’s good enough, but he didn’t have to do that. He shouldn’t have to do that. He could have been killed because you”—I spin and point to my dad—“knew damn well he wouldn’t be able to ride that bike.”

  “Step down, Skye,” Dad says, his voice hard.

  “No,” I croak, my tears flowing harder. “You step down, Daddy. It was unfair, and you know it. I hoped coming here you would all prove me wrong, that you’d all give him a chance, but you didn’t. You acted exactly as the world would expect you to—like bikers. I should have known better.”

  “Skye,” Danny says, and I turn and thrust my finger into his chest.

  “Do not speak to me.”

  “Come on, kid,” Spike says carefully.

  “I’m done. I’m going home. Don’t call me.”

  Grabbing my things, I turn and rush out of the front gates, ignoring their calls. Tears rush down my cheeks as I run down the road. I’m hurting. For more reasons than one. I’ve felt so guilty about walking away from the club, but they just proved to me exactly why I did. It won’t matter what I do in life; they’re always going to be like that. I know it’s who they are, I get it, but what they did today was wrong.

  It was unfair.

  I start running, my shoes pounding against the dirt on the side of the road. Cars whizz past me but I don’t stop. I need to call a cab and go and see if Preston is okay. The rumble of a Harley-Davidson behind me has my skin prickling, but I don’t stop. I keep running, sweat pouring down my face, blending with my tears.

  The bike slows down beside me, the loud pipes making a growling sound I’m familiar with. Danny.

  “Get on the bike, Skye.”

  I keep running.

  “Skye, I’ll make you. You know I will.”

  I still keep running.

  “Fuck.”

  The bike stops, then boots pound behind me. I run harder. Faster. Giving it all I have. I turn and dart across the road to the other side where cabs often come past.

  “Skye!” Danny barks, having been stopped by cars. “Stop, for fuck’s sake.”

  I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t want to hear what any of them have to say. I’m done listening. I need to make sure Preston is okay. I know what he did today was partially his fault, but they knew good and well he couldn’t ride a bike. If he’d killed himself, that would have been on them. It was stupid and reckless.

  A cab moves down the road towards me, and I lift my hand to flag it down. Danny reaches me just as it begins pulling over. His big hand curls around my upper arm and I spin, slapping it off. I jerk back and avoid looking at his face. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be any of this.

  “Skye,” he warns. “Look at me.”

  “I’m going to see if Preston is okay. You need to let me do that.”

  “He’s not good enough for you.”

  I finally meet his eyes. “That isn’t your choice to make!”

  “We care about you.”

  “I know that,” I say, my voice a little less harsh, “I do know that, Danny, but you all can’t go around putting people’s lives at risk to prove a point.”

  “He got on the bike.”

  “Yeah, and Daddy knew before he got on that Preston couldn’t ride. If he had been killed, Dad would have had to wear that.”

  Danny’s face hardens. “When are you going to wake up and see this life you’re chasing isn’t you?”

  “You don’t know anything,” I whisper angrily.

  “Yo lady,” the cab driver calls. “You comin’?”

  I turn and nod.

  “Skye,” Danny bites out. “We’re not done.”

  I turn and look at him, holding his eyes. “We are, Danny.”

  He flinches. “Give me one more night—give me one more conversation. If you’re done after it, I’ll let you go, and I swear to fuck I’ll keep out of your life and I’ll make sure the club does too.”

  I hold his stare, and I can see he means every word of what he’s saying. “There’s nothing to talk about that we haven’t already . . .”

  “There is. One night, Skye. It’s all I ask.”

  “Danny . . .”

  “Does this man matter to you?”

  No. Not like you do. “Yes.”

  “Then give me one night. I swear to you if you want to walk, I’ll have your back, but not if you don’t give me this.”

  I sigh.

  Him having my back in this matter would be good. Living my life free of the club holding me down would be better.

  “You’ll let me go and keep the club out of my business?”

  He nods. “Swear it.”

  “One night,” I agree, turning and getting in the cab.

  I don’t look back at him as I leave because honestly, I don’t know if I have the strength to take in what he’s going to say.

  I don’t know if I can truly ever let him go.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Preston!” I plead, banging on our hotel door. “I don’t have my key. Please open up.”

  “Go away, Skye.”

  “Please,” I beg. “I just want to talk with you, make sure you’re okay.”

  “Don’t pretend you care about me,” he bites out.

  I take a deep, calming breath. “I do care about you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  I’m not really sure if I’m telling the truth, and that scares me.

  A second later, the door opens and Preston appears. He looks okay, and thankfully wasn’t hurt too severely.

  “Are you alright?” I say softly.

  He shrugs. “I’ll live.”

  “I’m sorry they did that to you, Preston.”

  He studies my face, and I’m ashamed I allowed this crap to go on. He’s
a nice guy. He might not be one of them, but he’s a good man with a good heart and he was doing everything he could to show them he’s enough.

  “I’m sorry I acted like that,” he says, stepping aside to let me in.

  “You have no reason to apologize. They shouldn’t have done that to you, and I shouldn’t have let them.”

  He closes the door and turns to me, capturing my face in his hands. “It wasn’t up to you to stop them.”

  “I tried to warn you . . .” I laugh with a weak smile. “They’re difficult.”

  “What happened today is not going to stop me from fighting for you, Skye.”

  My heart flutters, because that feels nice. It feels great to have someone willing to give up so much for me. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t, but I can’t let that scare me off either. It was a test; I’m sure of it. I’m going to hold my head up high and we’re going to go back in there tomorrow, because that’s what not giving up is like.”

  I smile warmly and lean up on my tiptoes, kissing him softly on the lips. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  I tuck myself into his side. “For being you.”

  I just hope he’s enough.

  He has to be enough.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bang bang bang.

  I groan and roll, throwing my arm over my eyes as the sun comes pounding through the window and straight into my face. Preston shifts beside me, making a throaty sound and mumbling, “What the?”

  The incessant banging comes again. Over and over.

  “Coming!” I yell, my voice still thick with sleep.

  I sit up, escaping the sun. I push out of the bed and walk over to the hotel door, peering through the peephole. It’s my dad. I sigh and check my nightie is in place and not revealing anything before I swing it open. My dad’s eyes instantly flick over me, then go behind me to the bed where Preston sits up. His jaw ticks.

  “Before you even think about saying anything, don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

  His eyes come back to me. “Wasn’t goin’ to.”

  His voice is tight. His body is tight. He was so going to.

  “Then why are you here?” I ask, my voice a little more normal now.