MC Sinners Boxed Set #1-7

PAST - SPIKE

T hings are going south fast, and I can’t find a way to pick it all back up again. Ciara is growing cold towards me, and her sister is throwing herself at me. I know it’s causing big problems between them, but fucks me if I can stop it. Ciara has had a chance, and she won’t take it. Fuck, if she can’t see how much I fuckin’ adore her, then it’s because she doesn’t want to see it. If she doesn’t want to see it, then what’s the point in fighting to try and change it? I can’t keep fighting. I’m tired of fuckin’ fighting. Then Cheyenne comes along, and the girl is all over me, wanting me the way I wish her sister wanted me. I guess the selfish part of me is grateful to get a tiny piece of Ciara, even if it is through Cheyenne.

“You know,” Cheyenne says as I wait out front to take Ciara to work one morning. “I’d love a ride on your bike.”

“Didn’t take you as the motorbike kind of girl,” I say, lighting up a smoke.

“I didn’t either, but if it’s you I’m holding onto, I wouldn’t mind.”

I raise my brows, and she grins at me. Damn girl is attractive, I’ll give her that much.

“Yeah, well, might have to take you for a spin.”

Fuck what am I doing? I should be fuckin’ walking away. I know this. Yet here I am, angry that Ciara can’t see how I feel, and taking it out on her by chatting up her sister.

“How about now?”

“Can’t babe, got to take Ciara to work.”

“Well, how about after?” she says, stepping closer.

Fuck.

“Yeah, all right.”

She beams, and it’s getting to me. It’s getting to me, because she’s a beautiful girl and that’s what happens when beautiful girls decide they want something. Ciara comes down the front stairs, and fuck, she looks good. Tight black pants, a tiny singlet, and them smokin’ black boots she loves so much. Her hair is up on top of her head, in that messy thing girls do, and a pair of sunglasses covers her eyes. She’s fuckin’ smokin’. I don’t know how she doesn’t have a trail of men behind her at all times. She sees Cheyenne next to my bike, and I notice that her body stiffens. She pulls on a smile though, and walks over to me.

“Hey Danny.”

“Hey Tomcat, ready?”

“I am.”

She takes the helmet I hand her, and she lifts it, bringing it down over her head. Cheyenne leans in close, and fuck, she smells like some sort of sweet flower.

“I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m going to be waiting, don’t you stand me up, Spike.”

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Ciara flinches a little, but she says nothing. I pull the throttle and the bike lunges forward. Ciara wraps her tiny arms around my waist, and we ride to work. Sometimes I’m thankful that we can’t speak on the bike, because I have no doubt she would have a great deal to say if she had a chance. When we pull up at the bar she’s working at, she gets off the bike and pulls the helmet off. She hands it to me, and I take it, wanting to say something, but not knowing how.

“You and Cheyenne going to be seeing each other?” she asks, her voice small.

“No, I just told her I’d give her a turn on the bike, Tom Cat.”

She shrugs, and that fuckin’ hurts more than she’ll ever know.

“It’s fine, you can do whatever you want. If you want to see her, that’s cool with me. I don’t care.”

Jesus. Could she fuckin’ rip my heart out anymore?

“That what’s wrong with you lately?” I ask.

“No,” she says, softly. “I’m fine.”

She’s lying. Fuck. I want to reach out and shake her, tell her that I fuckin’ want her, but there ain’t no point. If she wanted to tell me she had feelings, she would have done it by now.

“You want me to pick you up?”

She nods. “Yeah, if you’re not busy with Cheyenne.”

“Tom Cat, I’m never goin’ to leave you alone for anyone.”

She forces that fake smile again. “Later then, Danny.”

“Later, babe.”

Then she’s gone.

Fuck.

Why do I get the feeling I’m losing her?