Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

16. Chapter 16

W e wait for the gates to slide open as we idle at the entrance of Savage Wings. After seeing the devastation of the club’s motorbike shop and bar, Creed was silent the whole drive here.

A ruined dinner, a chase through the city, and a fire.

It’s been one hell of a night.

We drive past the first warehouse, wait for the second gate, then drive up to the entrance of the club. There are more motorbikes than last time, and more cars.

“If anyone gives you trouble, let me know,” Creed says as he switches off the engine.

I give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be okay.”

“There might be some…” he winces slightly. “Tension.”

“From?”

He sighs. “The women. They can be hesitant with outsiders.”

I roll my eyes. “I grew up with spoiled drama queens. I think I can handle some ‘tensions’.”

Creed nods once, then gets out of the car. I pick up my messenger bag from the footwell as he opens my door, and I slide out. Before I can move out of the way, Creed cups my jaw gently and tilts my face up, his attention on my forehead.

“You’re bruising already,” he says.

“I’m not surprised. I bruise easily.”

His eyes flick to mine, those biteable lips lifting on one side. That damn dimple. “I remember.”

I’m suddenly aware of how close his body is to mine, my short breaths, his calloused fingers caressing my jaw, his focused honey-brown eyes.

I want to kiss him. More .

I should kiss him.

No.

I just almost got kidnapped or worse, we’re both stuck in the middle of an underworld war, and I used to kind of date, no, fuck his best friend.

I’ve fucked him, too. Twice.

No , I’m mourning Matteo. Aren’t I? Yes, yes I am.

Is this feeling just a mix of tequila and exhaustion from the huge dump of adrenaline?

Let’s go with that.

Despite those biteable lips tempting me, I pull back from his touch, drop my gaze and step out of the car opening. Creed clears his throat and closes the door, then gets my overnight bag from the backseat.

He leads me to the door of the warehouse as Two-Shot jogs out, breathing a “hey” as he continues past us to Creed’s car.

The light pours out from the warehouse as Creed enters first. He’s two steps in when he stops abruptly; quick, slapping steps approach us fast. He puts my bag down at the entrance to the bar before crouching down in time for a small body to slam into him.

“Uncle Creed!” a young boy cries as he wraps his arms around Creed’s neck.

He lifts him into a hug. “Hey, little man. How’s my mini captain doing?”

“Daddy said we’re having a sleepover!” the boy says excitedly.

“You sure are, buddy,” Creed says. He turns to face me, still holding onto the boy. “We have a new friend, too.”

The boy unlocks his arms around Creed and turns to me. He’s a beautiful little boy, maybe four years old, with light brown skin, light green-brown eyes, and a mop of floppy black curls.

“Hi there,” I say with a smile.

“Hi,” he beams. “I’m Ajani Jethro, but everyone calls me AJ”

“AJ,” I repeat. “I’m Scarlett. You can call me Scar.”

His eyes light up. “Uncle Theo’s friend!”

Creed rolls his eyes as I giggle. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“He said you like cheese like me.”

I smile. “I do.”

AJ shimmies down Creed’s body and walks over to me, his toothy grin wide. “Do you want some?”

“Of course!” AJ takes my hand and pulls me further into the warehouse. I love him already.

Creed takes my messenger bag as I’m pulled past him toward the kitchen. There’s about half a dozen people congregating around the island bench, drinking, eating, and chatting.

“Uncle Theo, I found your cheese friend,” AJ announces as he pulls me into the throng to Heartbreaker’s side.

“You did, little man,” Heartbreaker beams.

He’s standing at the island bench with a container of an assortment of cut cheeses. Heartbreaker lowers the container to AJ

“Theodore, you better not be giving Ajani more cheese,” a female voice scolds from across the warehouse.

“Quick, take some before your Ma sees,” Heartbreaker says conspiratorially, making AJ giggle. He shoves two cubes in his mouth, takes another two, then bolts away, cackling around his mouthful.

A stunning woman appears at Heartbreaker’s side. She’s got the most beautiful dark brown skin, long black braids scooped over one shoulder, and a piercing dark gaze that’s currently searing into Heartbreaker.

He gives her that panty-dropping smile and holds out the container. “Cheese?”

She sucks her teeth in dismissal and bats him away, then turns to me with a warm smile. “Hi, I’m Maya, Flash’s wife, and AJ’s mum.”

“I’m Scarlett,” I say in greeting. “Scar for short.”

“The Cheese Thief,” Heartbreaker chimes in.

“Fuck off and eat your cheese elsewhere, Theodore,” Maya chastises.

“You shouldn’t swear, Maya. The baby can hear you.” He gestures to her small, rounded stomach.

She rolls her eyes and points toward the dining area. “Get.”

He chuckles and leaves with his precious container.

“How far along are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Twenty-eight weeks,” she says as she cradles her bump.

I nod. “Unfortunately, Heartbreaker is right that your baby can hear.”

“Oh, I know,” Maya says. “The man researched baby development more than Flash and I combined when I was pregnant with AJ so he could be a pain in my ass the entire time.” Her brows crease slightly as she eyes me curiously. “You seem young to be a doctor.”

“Oh, no,” I chuckle. “I’m in my first year of nursing, but I intend to be a midwife. My dad is a specialist paediatrician at the children’s hospital, so I’ve grown up around all things medicine.”

Maya links our arms, drawing me to her side. “It’ll be nice having someone around here that isn’t a mechanic or a miscreant.”

We laugh and then she turns me to face the crowd on the opposite side of the island bench.

“From our left we have, Reggie, or Bull, and his old lady Rita.”

Bull is an older man, of average height and a heavier set, with greying brown hair, a weathered, tanned face, a mostly grey beard and kind brown eyes. He’s in a simple forest-green button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark blue jeans, and his battered leather cut. The one side has a distinctive black wings patch sewn in, and over his heart, a ‘Secretary’ patch.

At his side, Rita is a lively older woman, with chin-length grey hair that has the slightest blue tone that matches her eyes, a nose ring, and random tattoos all over her arms, shoulder, and neck. She’s wearing a white T-shirt that falls slightly off one shoulder and is tucked into black jeans.

“Then there’s my husband Oscar, or Flash,” Maya continues.

Flash is a tall, lithe man with pale skin, brown curly hair and light green eyes. Dressed in a black long-sleeve T-shirt, his club leather cut that has a ‘Road Captain’ patch, and black cargo pants, he’s now holding AJ.

“And you know Heartbreaker,” Maya says dryly.

Heartbreaker is as tall as Creed, but more muscular—I just know he’s sculpted by the gods under that fitted T-shirt with his confidence. He’s also disarmingly handsome, with red hair that reminds me of cinnamon, pale blue eyes, and for what minimal skin I’ve seen, I’d say he’s heavily tattooed.

Maya turns to me. “Did you meet Scott?”

“Scott?”

“ Two-Shot Scott,” Heartbreaker clarifies. “They’ve met.”

“There’s also Hammer, Darwin, and the newbies, Ink, Hawk, and Phantom,” Maya concludes.

“I’ve met most of them in passing,” I tell her, then turn back to the group. “Do you prefer your road names or your legal names?”

A chorus of ‘either’ sings out to me, then they go back to chatting amongst each other. Maya keeps her arm linked with mine as she engages Rita in conversation, and I’m content to listen.

My eyes coast the group then towards the bar where Creed is behind it drinking a beer, and a woman with long black hair, dressed in cut-off denim shorts and a fitted crop-top, leans over the bar talking to him.

“That’s Alexis,” a new voice says next to me. I turn to see a beautiful woman at my side.

She’s slightly taller than me, with shoulder-length, shiny bronze hair, light brown eyes that are almost feline-like, and full lips tilted in an easy smile. She’s wearing a simple navy-blue sundress that compliments her tanned olive complexion and flatters her fuller figure; it also has a scoop neck that shows off her impressive cleavage.

“She’s a wing-rider,” she continues.

“Wing-rider?” I ask.

“Club girl. Sweet butt. We prefer wing-riders.”

“I’m Scarlett,” I say.

“Melissa.” She pulls me into a tight hug. “Don’t be surprised if Alexis is not particularly nice to you,” Melissa whispers in my ear.

“Why?” I ask softly as she pulls back.

“Creed,” she insinuates and steps away.

I guess the ‘tension’ Creed meant was Alexis.

“Can I ask about the…” Melissa trails off, gesturing at her forehead.

“I got thrown into a car,” I tell her. The conversation dies in the kitchen. I turn sharply to Maya. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that with AJ—”

“Who threw you into a car?” she asks, her fierce gaze pinning me on the spot.

“It was…uh…” I turn to Heartbreaker. I don’t know how much I can say.

“Some assholes we’ve been dealing with recently,” he supplies. “Savage Wings women know a lot of what the brothers do.”

“Are they…” Maya leaves the question open, the insinuation clear.

“Hawk and Phantom are taking them to the farm,” Heartbreaker says with a menacing grin. I’m pretty sure he means a literal farm.

Maya tugs my arm to face her, then she grabs my chin gently, inspecting my injury.

“Did you pass out? Are you nauseous?” she asks.

“No, no factors for a possible concussion. But I’m staying up for the next eleven hours just in case.”

Maya releases my chin and grabs my hand. “We’ll stay with you. Let’s get you settled.”

“You should be—”

“Sleeping? Resting?” she finishes as she drags me toward Creed and my bags. “I haven’t slept a full night since I was pregnant with AJ. And this baby kicks my organs every chance they get.”

When we near the bar, Alexis turns her attention to us. Her ire at me being here pours out of her.

“The new wing-rider,” she comments.

“Scarlett is a guest of the club,” Creed corrects.

“Are you sure? By the way Heartbreaker pants after her, I would think she’s already fu—”

“Alexis,” Creed says in warning.

She rolls her eyes and pushes off the bar top, strutting away.

“Reckless,” Maya grumbles softly as she bends to pick up my overnight bag.

Creed beats her to it and also collects my messenger bag. “Maya, go sit down. You too, Scar.”

It’s Maya’s turn to roll her eyes, then she pulls me along, bypassing the kitchen and dining area, taking me to the furthest living zone, near the stairs.

The first zone has a three-piece grey couch and armchair set, a huge plush tan carpet, a large square wood coffee table in the centre and a pile of floor pillows next to storage shelving and a bookshelf.

This zone has a huge TV mounted on the wall with easily an eight-seater emerald green couch, and two brown leather beanbags in the centre of another gigantic tan carpet.

Maya lowers into one corner of the U-shaped couch, tucking pillows this way and that to get comfortable.

Creed places my messenger bag on the couch near Maya from behind it and holds up the overnight bag. “Need anything from this?”

I’m about to shake my head but stop before I jostle it too much. “No.”

He nods, and continues on toward the stairs, Two-Shot suddenly appearing with my suitcase and following Creed up.

“Why is he called ‘Two-Shot’?” I ask Maya as I settle in next to her. “Is it a sex thing?”

Maya bursts out laughing.

“That’s a ‘two-pump chump’,” Rita says, appearing with a large, round wooden serving tray filled with snacking foods. Melissa follows behind with two jugs of drinks and a tower of plastic cups.

She hands me the drinks to hold and crosses to where three portable side tables are lined up under the television and carries one over.

“His name is Two-Shot because he’s a lightweight,” Rita explains, setting the tray down on the couch next to Maya and takes a seat beside it. “Give him two drinks and he’s down for the count.”

“Heartbreaker’s margaritas are potent,” Maya says. “That’s why I’m pregnant again.”

We all laugh as Melissa slides the table over the couch beside me, and I set the jugs down. She points out the sangria and the non-alcoholic punch, then I help her serve them.

“You aren’t drinking?” Rita says as I pour myself some punch. “Oh, god , please tell me you’re of drinking age.”

“Yes,” I laugh. “I was out earlier tonight, and tequila happened.”

“Plus, she shouldn’t drink after her scuffle today either,” Maya adds.

“You’re right,” Rita says, then raises her cup. “To new friends.”

“New friends,” we echo back to her and bump our cups together.

“Now, Scar,” Rita says, sitting back with a mischievous grin. “Tell us everything .”

Over the next five hours, I learn that Rita and Bull have three kids and seven grandchildren, she’s shown me all of her tattoos, including the one on her surprisingly toned ass, and told me about how she met Bull.

I discover Maya’s family is from Nigeria, but she doesn’t speak to them since marrying Flash, and she was delighted when I told her my mum is Congolese. She was also ecstatic that I knew how to braid, already begging me to meet up with her next week for a braid day.

Melissa was mostly quietly observing and then disappeared back to the other group when Ink returned about an hour after I arrived.

At around seven in the morning, two other club men returned: Darwin and Hammer. Rita introduced me before retiring for the day with Bull. The rest of the club retired or slipped away within the hour of them returning.

It’s now almost ten and I’m alone on the couch snuggled up with a woollen blanket and my laptop, working on schoolwork. I’m so focused on writing notes on the arterial system that I don’t hear Creed approaching, so I jolt when he vaults over the couch and lands next to me.

“How are you doing?” he asks, looking at my screen.

“Exhausted,” I admit, continuing to type. “My head is a little tender, but overall fine.”

Creed tilts his head to look at me, and I glance at him, then pause. It would take no effort to kiss him right now.

Mind off his lips, Scar.

I turn back to the screen. “Are you going to bed?” My voice comes out breathy. Damn it.

“Not until you do,” he says.

I frown, turning to him again. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

He tilts his head slightly, mirth glittering in his eyes. “I’m not letting anyone else escort you up to the room. Too many opportunities to steal you away to another bed.”

My frown deepens. What is he talking about? “I don’t know how that’s going to happen. I’m sleeping here.”

Creed chuckles. “I like my balls intact, thank you. That’s where Maya’s knee will aim when she sees you sleeping here, when I have a much more comfortable bed.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” I say immediately, and breathless, again .

“Well, you already—”

I clap my hand over his mouth. He licks my palm.

I retract my hand as he laughs and wipe it on his shirt. God, he’s warm.

The door opens across the warehouse, and Hawk and Phantom enter, each carrying a duffel bag. I didn’t hear their car. Either the insulation in this place is impressive or Creed is that distracting. Probably the latter.

“That’s my cue,” he says on a sigh, but doesn’t move.

A chorus of opened and softly closed doors echoes in the warehouse, followed by heavy footsteps. I turn to see them all shrugging on cuts and yawning as they descend the stairs, walking around the corner to the infamous locked doors.

“Club meeting?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Creed sighs and stands. He turns to me, gracing me with a soft smile. “See you soon?”

I return his smile. “I’ll be here.”

I’m expecting him to leave, but he leans over me, cupping my jaw gently and tilting my head back, then kisses me.

Static.

Nothing else makes my brain settle like Creed’s lips on mine. The closest thing is a crowded dancefloor, but nothing compares to this serenity.

Just as I’m about to fall into the depths, Creed pulls back just enough to look at me.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for four months,” he rasps, then releases me and straightens. “And I don’t plan on waiting another four months again.”

With that, he walks away.