Heaven's Sinners
Page 22
Addi giggles. “They’re never normal honey.”
“Ciara?”
I hear Jackson’s voice, and turn to see him striding into the bar. I came to apologize to him for being so rude the other night. I turn and flash Addi a quick smile, before standing and walking towards Jackson.
When we reach each other, we both stop. He gives me a smile, like my angry mood the other evening didn’t bother him at all. Jackson is such a sweet man. I really don’t know how he manages to run a club full of bikers.
“Hey Jackson, I just wanted to come in and apologize for the other night. It was wrong of me to snap at you like that.”
He offers me his arm. “Walk with me.”
I hook mine through his, and as we pass Addi, he leans down and kisses her head. She flashes him a grin and then returns to the bar.
Jackson and I walk through the halls until we reach the front door. He leads me out and we sit on a couple of old chairs beside the front door.
“You know I ain’t pissed at you, Ciara?” he says, turning to face me. He rests his big hands on his knees and his green eyes meet mine.
“I know, but it was still wrong of me to behave like that all the same. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that just because I was pissed off at Spike.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “You were hurtin’, I can’t be angry at you for that.”
“I was hurt he came to you to get rid of me, like I was just a massive pain in his side, but in the end that was on him, it wasn’t on you.”
“Spike’s in a bad place right now. He was doin’ it to protect you.”
“How so?” I ask, crossing my legs.
“Can’t give you that kind of information, but I can tell you it wasn’t out of hate that he did it.”
What is Spike up to? Jackson might not be willing to tell me, but my interest is sparked.
“Either way, I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did.”
Jackson nods. “It’s all good, you know we’ve always got your back, Ciara.”
I smile. “Yeah, I know.”
“Anyway,” he says, standing, “I gotta run. You take care, Ciara.”
I beam up at him, and he flashes me that award-winning smile before disappearing.
I sit on the chair for a long while, thinking about Jackson’s words. What could Spike be up to, that would make him feel the need to keep me away so I’m protected? I would like to think Spike wouldn’t put himself in danger after what happened with Cheyenne, but I wouldn’t put it past him. My guess is he’s seeking revenge, and, knowing Spike the way I know him.
He’ll get it.
And it won’t be pretty.
~*~*~*~
PAST - SPIKE
Things 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.
“Ciara?”
I hear Jackson’s voice, and turn to see him striding into the bar. I came to apologize to him for being so rude the other night. I turn and flash Addi a quick smile, before standing and walking towards Jackson.
When we reach each other, we both stop. He gives me a smile, like my angry mood the other evening didn’t bother him at all. Jackson is such a sweet man. I really don’t know how he manages to run a club full of bikers.
“Hey Jackson, I just wanted to come in and apologize for the other night. It was wrong of me to snap at you like that.”
He offers me his arm. “Walk with me.”
I hook mine through his, and as we pass Addi, he leans down and kisses her head. She flashes him a grin and then returns to the bar.
Jackson and I walk through the halls until we reach the front door. He leads me out and we sit on a couple of old chairs beside the front door.
“You know I ain’t pissed at you, Ciara?” he says, turning to face me. He rests his big hands on his knees and his green eyes meet mine.
“I know, but it was still wrong of me to behave like that all the same. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that just because I was pissed off at Spike.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “You were hurtin’, I can’t be angry at you for that.”
“I was hurt he came to you to get rid of me, like I was just a massive pain in his side, but in the end that was on him, it wasn’t on you.”
“Spike’s in a bad place right now. He was doin’ it to protect you.”
“How so?” I ask, crossing my legs.
“Can’t give you that kind of information, but I can tell you it wasn’t out of hate that he did it.”
What is Spike up to? Jackson might not be willing to tell me, but my interest is sparked.
“Either way, I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did.”
Jackson nods. “It’s all good, you know we’ve always got your back, Ciara.”
I smile. “Yeah, I know.”
“Anyway,” he says, standing, “I gotta run. You take care, Ciara.”
I beam up at him, and he flashes me that award-winning smile before disappearing.
I sit on the chair for a long while, thinking about Jackson’s words. What could Spike be up to, that would make him feel the need to keep me away so I’m protected? I would like to think Spike wouldn’t put himself in danger after what happened with Cheyenne, but I wouldn’t put it past him. My guess is he’s seeking revenge, and, knowing Spike the way I know him.
He’ll get it.
And it won’t be pretty.
~*~*~*~
PAST - SPIKE
Things 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.
