Wrath (Dirty Soul MC: Long Beach #2)

Chapter 5

“ T his is what Raze wants us to manage?” I take a look around the huge gym Ruckus told me to meet him at.

“I know the equipment’s a little dated, but we can build on that, and we got a fightin’ ring like the Colorado charter does. It’ll be good practice for sparring.” He hops on his feet and lays a few playful jabs into my arm.

“What ain’t ya tellin’ me, Ruck?” I look at my best friend and wait for him to tell me what he knows.

“Wrath, I–”

“Tell me.” I silence him because I ain’t in the mood to be taking bullshit.

“Okay, maybe I am keepin’ somethin’ from ya, but Raze is serious about this place. You know he’s taken on leases for some legit business and this is the one he wants us to be in charge of?”

“What ain’t ya tellin’ me?” I ask again, feeling my temper start to brew.

“I thought maybe we could turn this back room into some kinda dance studio, you know how I like them girls in the tight litt?—”

“Ruckus.” I throw him another warning look when my patience reaches its limit.

“Okay, but you gotta promise that you won’t react.” I’ve known Ruckus since he was a kid, he can’t hide shit from me. Right now, he’s worried about how I’m gonna react to what he’s got to say.

“I can’t do that.” I refuse to tell him a lie, I couldn’t even if I wanted to, Ruck knows me just as well as I know him.

“Wrath, I had a direct order from Prez, and–”

“And I’m your best friend,” I remind him.

“C’mon, don’t play the best friend card. You know that what Prez says goes, and I gotta admit, I was with him on this decision. You bein’ at the club would have made things a whole lot harder.”

“Made what harder?” I step into his space, and before I can grab him by his tee, he holds up his hands in defense.

“Eden wanted to talk to her ex-fiancé, and Raze was insistent that she do it at the club. I saw him show up in his fuckin’ Mustang as I was pullin’ out the yard.” He diverts his eyes away from mine, knowing that I won’t like what I’m hearin’.

“So this was all a distraction to keep me away from the club?” I wanna throw my fist at his face.

“No, we needed to come here and take a look at the place, anyway. Raze just thought now would be the perfect time.” He tries being diplomatic, but it’s not making me any less angry. I don’t wanna be shut out from what’s happening in Eden's life, I’ve spent the past ten years suffering from that. I should be there at the club showing her support.

“And what if this ex is dangerous? What if he upsets her?” I start heading for the door. I may have promised to stay away, but if she’s hurting and there's even a remote chance she wants me to comfort her, I need to be there.

“Wrath, she’s got Raze, he’ll be takin’ care of her.”

“Yeah, well, the person takin’ care of her should be me.” I slam my way out the door into the bright L.A. sun. Ruckus follows after me, calling out my name, and trying to persuade me to go back. I ignore him, hopping on my bike and skidding off toward the clubhouse.

“Where is she?” I burst through the door when I eventually get there. Trinity’s the first person I see and I make it clear I’m not interested in her crap when I drag the arms she wraps around my neck off me.

“If you're talking about the runaway bride, Prez has moved her into the motel. Room 17.” She slides her finger up and down the seam of my cut and seductively licks her lips.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize Eden’s not gone anywhere. The whole journey here I’ve been worried that her fiancé would somehow talk her back to him. The fact she has her own room now proves that she’s staying, at least for a little while.

I ain’t wasting any more time, so I head back out the door, marching across the yard toward the motel. I try not to think about how much her going back to him would have destroyed me as I climb the stairs up to the second floor, and when I get to room 17 I knock on the door real hard and stand back while I wait for her to answer.

“Go away!” she calls out from behind the door.

“Eden, I need to talk to you.”

“You promised me you’d stay away,” she reminds me, sounding hurt and real fucking broken. I wanna break down the fuckin’ door so I can get to her and fix it.

“I know I did, and I will once ya open the door and show me that you're okay.”

“Aaron, I’m fine, please go.” She sounds so desperate to get rid of me. I fuckin’ hate it.

“Open the door, show me you're okay, and I’ll leave,” I repeat, and when the door finally flings open and I see her standing in front of me, she looks everything but okay.

“I’m fine,” she croaks, trying hard to hold it together, but the red rims around her eyes and the fact her cheeks are all blotchy give her away.

“Come here.” I open my arms for her, and when she rushes forward and wraps herself around my waist the warmth it puts in my chest reaches all the way down to my toes.

I hold onto her tight, so tight it feels like I’m crushing her, and while she sobs her tears into my shirt my fingers automatically scrunch her hair into a fist as I kiss the top of the head.

“It’s okay, whatever it is, we can fix it,” I promise, and it's a promise I know I can keep because for her there's nothing I wouldn’t do. In fact, I’m ready for the fuckin’ challenge. Especially if it means I get to break her ex-fiancé's face.

“This isn’t gonna be okay, Aaron. I’ve lost everything.” She snuffles and pulls herself away from me far too soon. Her eyes have lost all their sparkle and I can tell that whatever has upset her is real fuckin’ serious. “Mark came here, and he asked me to go back with him,” she starts explaining through shakey little breaths that make me wanna hunt this fucker down and tear off his limbs.

“You can’t do that. You don't love him. You're not the person you were pretendin’ to–”

“I know that,” she talks over me. “And when I tried to explain, he got real nasty. He reminded me that, without him, I’m nothing.”

I frown when I consider that she’s actually believing this shit, then dragging her inside her room, I slam the door behind us and grab each side of her face in my hands.

“Are you kiddin’? You’ve been the costume designer for three blockbuster movies in the last year. You had an article written about your work in Vogue magazine just last month.”

“Aaron, how do you know all this?” She laughs a little through her tears and knowin’ I caused it makes my anger fade into a smile.

“Because as soon as I found out what name you were goin’ by, I made it my business to know everythin’ there is to know about ya.

Katie Sullivan is a well-respected, sought-after costume designer and all that is because of your talent,” I tell her firmly.

“Yeah, well, Katie Sullivan doesn't exist anymore, and Mark took great pleasure in reminding me that my business belongs to him.” I release her and take a step back while I process what she’s telling me.

“I thought ya said that he loved ya.” I feel my forehead crease in confusion.

“He does, or at least he did. I guess this is just his way of making me hurt.”

“No, Eden, if that man loved ya he wouldn’t do somethin’ like this. This guy’s playin’ a game. One he thinks will get ya back, and I’m gonna teach him a fuckin’ lesson on gam–” She grabs my arm and pulls me back before I can make it to the door.

“No. Aaron. No violence.” I recognize the pleading in her eyes, it sends me right back to that night in the warehouse and makes me feel sick.

“No violence?” I shake my head and laugh at her, she must have forgotten where she is. “So Raze was okay with this guy comin’ here and threatenin’ to take away everythin’ his sister’s worked for?” I question, wondering how this Mark, whoever he is, even got the chance to leave the compound.

“Raze doesn't know, and he’s not going to. I’m going to put together the presentation I was working on, right here and I’m going to take it to the producers, so I can prove to Mark that I don’t need him.” I love how confident she’s being, but she and I both know that she can’t run a high-end costume design business from a motel room on a biker's compound.

“How much to buy him out?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but it’ll be expensive. Mark made sure I had the best of everything, starting out. I never really had much of a say in anything financial. I was just so excited to have my own studio.”

“Eden, you're the one with the talent, without you, there is no business,” I remind her.

“Do you think that matters to Mark? His family is beyond rich. He owns one of the biggest agencies in L.A. He’s going to keep hold of Katie Sullivan Designs and let it rot, just so he can see me fail.”

“Bastard.” I run my fingers through my hair. Trying to come up with a solution.

“He’s just hurting, he had a vision in his head of how his life was going to be and I ruined it. I can relate to that.” She looks up at me through her lashes and I know what she’s referring to. Instead of rising to it and trying to explain, I let it go and focus on something I can change.

“How much will it cost for you to start up again? On your own, with your real fuckin’ name?” I like the idea of that much better.

“I can’t do that, Mark got me to where I was, I had a head start because he knows everyone in the industry. We went to a different dinner party almost every night, he’s Hugh Walker’s kid's godfather, for Christ's sake.”

“Then you call him and you ask him how much he wants.” I pick up her cell from the dressing table and put it in her hands.

“You’re not hearing what I’m saying, Aaron. Mark wants revenge for me humiliating him, and there's not a price he can put on that.”

“Yeah, well we’ll see about that.” I turn and walk out the door and when she calls after me I ignore her and keep heading for my bike.

“Aaron Anderson, I swear if you go and hurt that man, I will leave this place and you will never see me again.” I stop dead, then slowly turn around to face her.

She’s looking scared, and I hate that she cares enough about this piece of shit ex to even make that kinda threat.

“I won’t hurt him. But I am gonna talk to him.”

“No, Aaron, you can’t help this situation.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t try.” I go to move and she quickly grabs at my arm.

“Please, Aaron, don’t hurt him,” she begs, and I can’t resist lifting my hand up her jaw and stroking my thumb over her soft, plump, bottom lip.

“I promise.” I swallow thickly, before turning around and marching back to my bike.

Inside Mark Collard’s office building everything looks impressive. It’s bright and spacious, with a view that overlooks the Hollywood sign as a reminder to all his clients of what he could do for them. I, of course, stick out like a nun in a whorehouse in my black jeans and the cut I’m wearing. I stroll through the entrance and the receptionist smiles politely, as she reaches under her desk to press what I’m assuming is a panic alarm. I quickly reach across and take her wrist before she can get to it.

“You don’t need to do that, sweetheart. I made a promise to someone I care very much about, that I wouldn’t hurt your boss. But I made no such promise for anyone who tries to stop me from doin’ what I came here to do. I don’t know who's got the job of cleanin’ all these glass walls, but I don’t think they’d appreciate all the blood your two boys over there would bleed if you interrupt ‘em.” I gesture my head over to the corner where two security guards sit eating their lunch.

“Now, if ya could point me in the direction of Mr Collard’s office, I’ll say what I came here to say and then I’ll leave.” I release her slowly.

“But, emmm… Mr Collard runs his diary by appointment only, his two o'clock will be arriving any minute now,” she hesitates.

“Good, I’ll make sure I’m quick.”

She still looks unsure as she nods her head and gestures her eyes to the left.

“Thank you…Glenda.” I read her name off the badge she’s wearin’ and wink before I make my way past all the glass-walled offices, toward the biggest one at the back. I pass a huge conference room that has a panoramic view, and it comes as no surprise that Mark Collard’s office is equally as big. He’s resting back confidently in his chair, with his feet up on the desk while he talks to someone on the phone.

The cocky prick doesn’t seem so confident when he sees me marching toward his door, and I watch him through the glass that separates us as he stands and hangs up the phone.

“Hey, Mark.” I pull on the fancy chrome handle and let myself in.

“You’re a Sou?—”

“Sit yourself back down,” I order, thinking of all the ways I could make this manipulative bastard suffer.

“You can’t come into my office and tell me what to do.” He laughs nervously as a crowd starts to gather around the glass behind me. Problem with the grand design of this place is that if anything goes down, you're a goldfish in a bowl.

I like the idea of all this man's staff seeing him for what he is.

“I said, sit the fuck down! ” I slam my palms on his desk making him jump and sit all at the same time.

“How much?” I ask, staring him straight in his murky, gray eyes, and waiting for his answer.

“She’s a biker whore now, I shouldn’t imagine she’d be too pricey.” The cunt tries to show face and be clever. I have to remind myself of that promise I made, instead of reaching for his throat and taking away his ability to eat with a knife and fork.

“Eden worked hard to get where she is. I want to know how much the business is worth so she can buy you out of it.”

The asshole plays to his audience, sitting back in his chair and letting it rock from side to side.

“More than you can afford.” He smiles like a Cheshire cat, and I imagine taking out my knife and making it a permanent one.

“Try me.” I stand straight and fold my arms across my chest.

“$600,000.” He raises his eyebrows at me.

“Okay.” I nod my head and turn around, getting the hell outta his office before I tie the fucker to his chair by his intestines and send him flying through his window on it.

“That won’t buy back her reputation,” he calls after me. “She ruined that for herself the day decided to become a biker’s slut instead of my wife.” My feet stop moving and my fists clench. I have to close my eyes and picture her face. I have to remind myself of all the ways I let her down so I don’t give in to the temptation to do it again.

Eventually, I take in a long, deep breath, release it through my nostrils, and continue to walk away.

I need to get my hands on $600k, and luckily I got an idea of where I can.

“Open up!” I slam my fist against Raze’s beach hut door, over and over. He’s not in the clubhouse but his bike’s in the yard, so that must mean he’s here.

“Come on, Raze, I gotta talk to ya.”

“D’ya not get the fuckin’ hint?” He eventually rips open the door and when I see the bed sheet he has wrapped around the bottom half of his body I let him see my smirk as I push past him to get inside.

“Hey, Pey.” I tip my chin at his old lady, ignoring the fact she’s sitting on the bed wearing one of Raze’s shirts and looking embarrassed.

“Wrath, we’re kinda in the middle of shit.” He frowns at me sternly.

I’m fully aware that I haven’t been his favorite person since Eden showed up, and I get why. Old memories plague us all and I never deserved for him to forgive me in the first place. Eden being back here will be a reminder to Raze of how I let him down too, but it’s also a chance for me to try and make things up to her. I ain’t gonna let it pass.

“I need ya to put me forward to André for that tournament, next month,” I tell him, staying firm and focused.

“We already spoke about this and the answer’s no.” Razes shakes his head and picks himself up a smoke from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, well, I’m tellin’ ya to change your mind. The prize for the winner is $200,000, right?”

“That’s right.” Raze side-eyes Peyton and I ignore his obvious frustration.

“You take what we got left in the pot from our last Burlusconi run and you bet it all on me, we could double that prize money.”

“If ya win,” Raze points out as he tokes on his cigarette.

“You don’t need to worry ‘bout that, I’m gonna win,” I assure him.

“Wrath, you ain’t had a proper fight in years. These men have been trainin’ non-stop for months. You ain’t fought none of ‘em before, and you just ain’t prepared.” He’s starting to sound less mad and more sympathetic. I don’t want his fuckin’ sympathy.

“I will be if you train me.” I let him know that I’m serious by staring him hard in his eyes.

“We got less than a month,” he laughs.

“I’m in good condition, and ya know how focused I can get. I need this, Raze.” I ain’t too proud to show him how desperate I am.

“Why?” He narrows his eyes curiously. “You ain’t got shit to prove to anyone.”

“Because that fucker, your sister was gonna marry, owns her business, and if she doesn’t buy him out for the 600k he’s demanding, he’s gonna ruin everythin’ she’s worked for,” I let him in on the truth, and him and Peyton both look shocked. “I won’t let that happen, Raze. I don’t want in on this tournament for pride anymore. I need to win it for her. That’s how I know I can’t be beaten.” I press my finger hard onto his table and lay it all out for him. I just hope he fuckin’ gets it.

“Wrath, you just said you need 600k, even if we put up the money from the run, and ya win, that still only gives us 400.”

“I know that. I got some funds of my own stashed away, I’ll have Ruck put a bet on for me too. We’ll still be a little short, but I know for a fact your dad has connections, he’s always hookin’ Brax Marshall up with hits.” Raze shocks me when he snatches up my arm and drags me outside.

“ Never talk of that shit in front of my old lady again, ya hear?” he growls through his teeth once we’re out on his porch.

“Sorry, I thought she knew.” I look down, making him aware of the fact he’s still only wearing a bedsheet.

“Me and her got no secrets, but that one ain’t mine to tell, and it ain’t yours, either. Besides, you're forgettin’ the fact that my old man hates ya, there's no way he’s gonna hook you up with a hit job.”

“Not even if it's for his own daughter’s gain?” I stare back at him.

“Listen, no one needs to be doin’ anythin’ stupid. I can front the rest of the money we need,” he sighs.

“So that’s a yes to the tournament?” I try to hide my smile.

“It’s a ‘be at the new gym for 6 am’, and keep your fuckin’ hands off my sister. Just because you're helpin’ her don’t mean ya get to… “ He stops himself from finishing and shakes his head some more.

“6 am. I’ll be there,” I assure him. “You can get back to your old lady, now.” I slap his arm and start jogging backward against the sand.

“I meant what I said.” He points his finger at me and I raise my guard and start making some ducks and punches.

“Better loosen up them limbs, old man, we’re gettin’ back in the ring.” I can already feel the fuckin’ buzz.

I hear him growl as he turns around and heads back inside. Heading back to the clubhouse I’m feeling pretty fuckin’ good. Knowing that I got a chance to help her has put me in a much better mood than I was before I left, and now that I have Raze on board, there's no doubt in my mind that I can win.