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“Oh yeah, it gets worse than that?” he asked, pointing at the phone.
Her shoulders tensed as she ducked her head. Gone was the vixen who’d walked into Boom Burger, and in her place was a terrified woman.
“Jaime, you got to put it all out there. Now that they’ve threatened me, it’s no longer just about getting the guy off your ass, it’s now club business.”
She shuddered, nodding. “At first, I thought the guy from my porch was Eliot Montaine. He was angry about the breakup and even threatened that I would be sorry. And it was him. At first. He followed me and I would see him when I was running errands and shit. But…now I don’t know what’s going on.”
“What the fuck to you mean, Jaime? Who is this Eliot asshole?”
“He’s the guy I was dating. The one I came to you for help to get him off my back.”
Finally, he had a name for Red to run, but that wasn’t going to be enough, especially now that the club’s name was spat from the asshole’s lips.
“But…Patriot, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Eliot isn’t my problem anymore, and I don’t think he has been for a while. He got a job in Pittsburgh and transferred out of town last week.”
“He can call you from anywhere, Jaime,” Patriot replied, annoyed that this conversation was spinning in circles.
“That’s just it, Patriot. That voice on the phone, the one threatening you, that wasn’t Eliot’s voice. His voice is higher, and I always kind of thought he sounded like Melissa McCarthy. I have no idea who that man in the voicemail is or what he wants with me.”
For the second time that morning, Patriot was stunned.
Motherfucking shit.
“I need to call your brother; he needs to know what’s going on,” he murmured, swearing.
This just got a whole lot more complicated, and Patriot couldn’t shake the dark morass of dread that shifted over him.
TWELVE
“Will you be here for dinner?” Cilla asked, hoping her disappointment didn’t show in her voice. It was the third night that Patriot had declined dinner with her, citing “club business” was keeping him away from her.
She could hear a heavy sigh on his end of the line, and she closed her eyes, forcing back the tears burning to escape. God! She hated that the first hurdle in their brand-new relationship, and her first thoughts are “he changed his mind”, “he’s disgusted with me”, “he wants to be with Jaime.”
And the worst one: “He saw me naked, and now he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
That one burned so damn hot that it had left blisters, and she couldn’t stop picking at the thick, white scars left behind.
…disgusted…
…cringed….
Damn. It had been over three weeks since that party at the club house, and those ugly words still had space in her mind. Problem was, she had no idea how to silence them, not when, at the time, they’d felt so…accurate.
But he’s done so much to prove that he isn’t disgusted. Would a man who was disgusted by her have sex with her so much? Would he take his time, kissing, caressing, and touching a body he didn’t find desirable?
He would if he was used to following orders, fucking random women, and hiding his true feelings behind a gruff exterior….
No. Patriot wasn’t that kind of man. Besides, what reason did he have to fake being attracted to her? She was a nobody to the club, she wasn’t of any importance to the Unchained or to anyone, really. So, he couldn’t have any hidden motives for wanting to be with her. The secrecy wasn’t helping matters. He’d explained why they couldn’t tell anyone about their relationship, and she hated that she understood, but that didn’t mean she liked being his secret. Yeah, there was that moment when he brought it up that she believed he was embarrassed to be seen with her, that his club brothers and the club women would call him out for sticking his dick in Petunia Pig, but Patriot had taken his time, showing her that he really meant what he’d said about eventually staking his claim.
She just had to be patient. God, she hated Jaime for taking what should be an amazing beginning to her happily ever after, and turning it into something that made Cilla’s stomach twist.
She just needed to remember that Patriot wanted her. She needed to remember that he was a man of honor, and that he was choosing to be with her.
Yeah…but he’s also with Jaime….
Ugh. That freaking voice! It needed to shut up, already. Patriot didn’t want to be with Jaime…even though his circumstances required him to “play nice”—whatever that meant. But for how long? How long would she have to wait before she could climb to the top of the clubhouse and shout out that Patriot was hers?
But she had to keep the deepest longings of her heart in the dark, because Patriot just haaaaad to be the good guy, helping a damsel in distress. Would Jaime take the opportunity handed to her to try and get her claws into Patriot?
