The Harder They Fall (The Soldiers of Wrath MC, 8) Read online

  “You like it then?” she asked, putting a large plate in front of him. She left, grabbing a steak and a potato for herself.

  The apple pie was her weakness. She loved baking, and apple pie was a recipe she had perfected. Had Vengeance got someone else to make him apple pie? She didn’t know why that hurt but then again, she didn’t have the right to comment.

  “Did you have a safe trip?” she asked.

  “I did. I’m alive. If there’s no new holes, then it went fucking well.” He took a bite out of his steak and sat back. “I forgot how good you could cook. That is so fucking juicy.” He took another bite and she watched as his eyes closed. The rapture was clear on his face.

  She ate her own food.

  “The house looks fantastic. I thought for a second that I had gone into the wrong house.”

  She laughed. “You’re a pig, Weasel. I will grant you, there were no rats but the spiders were enough to make my skin crawl.” She chewed on her steak and stared at him.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t start. You’ve got that look that says you’re thinking something and you’re worried about telling me. Just spit it out.”

  She licked the sauce off her lips, and when she glanced back at Weasel he was staring at them. “Your room.”

  His gaze moved back to hers. “What about it?”

  “Your entire house was completely trashed and yet your room was perfect.”

  “You went into my room?” he asked.

  “Why was it clean?” She didn’t like the way her body responded at his close proximity. The few days he’d been away, she had missed him. Cleaning his place didn’t help much either. She spent most of her time going through all his stuff. The pictures, the trinkets filled with memories—it had all brought back everything that she had been missing, and she hated it.

  This distance between her, her brother, and the club had been down to herself. There was no one else to blame.

  There had been a picture in Weasel’s drawer in his office. She had left the image shut away but it had brought back so much feeling. The picture had been taken at one of the final bonfire parties before she met Jake. Everything had been perfect. She and Vengeance were happy. She was going to college and working at the local diner.

  The picture had been taken by Weasel in a selfie-style pose of the three of them. His arm had been around her shoulders, and he’d pulled her close, pressing his lips against her cheek.

  She remembered the moment clearly, as it had been a turning point for her. Weasel inspired so many feelings, so much yearning, and she knew without a doubt that there was no hope for either of them. Weasel never looked at her like a man did a woman.

  However, when she had licked her lip, there had been a fire in his gaze, almost as if he wanted to touch where her tongue had. No, it had to have been a mistake. She was imagining things again.

  Pushing her thoughts to one side, she stared at Weasel.

  “I don’t like sleeping in a dirty room.”

  “But the rest of the house?”

  “It didn’t matter, Renee. The club didn’t visit here. This was a dumping ground, and I didn’t care about it. It was an … impulse buy. That’s all this was. You did an amazing job as well. I won’t dump shit around the house anymore.”

  Something was going on here, and she didn’t know what it was. “I like your house, and I’ve even gotten started on the garden. I mowed the front lawn yesterday, and I’ve been working through the back. Did you know there are random beer bottles thrown everywhere?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I do. I told you, this was a dumping ground.” He shrugged. “How are things with you and Vengeance?”

  “They’re … good. All things considered. I’m so pleased I came back home.” She finished her food and put her knife and fork down. “I also missed you while I was away.” There, she had said it, admitted it.

  Weasel stared at her. “Do you have any idea how many times I wanted you to come home? The long nights that I worried that something had happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He put the knife and fork down. “You were my family too, Renee. I didn’t want you to leave. You know that. I asked you, and I called you. Does Vengeance know about that?”

  She shook her head. She had ignored all the calls, the texts, and then the voicemail messages. Weasel wouldn’t give up. No matter how many times Jake told her to ditch her phone and buy a new one, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Hearing Weasel’s voice had gotten her through, and she felt like the biggest fool around. Instead of coming home, she had kept on going, hating her life, and then when she wanted to come home, she couldn’t. She had waited to hear from Vengeance before coming back.

  “I’m sorry, Weasel.”

  He stood up and left the table. She felt his hurt and wished she could do something to change that.

  11

  Weasel had to leave, had to get away from Renee and the feelings she evoked in him. He loved her, but didn’t know if he would ever be ready to actually tell her the words.

  He was a fucking coward.

  When she’d been gone with that asshole he tried to get ahold of her, tried to connect with her and bring her back. But she ignored him at every turn and he had no choice but to let her live her life. He’d had to move on with his.

  Weasel pulled his bike into the parking lot in front of the MC, cut the engine, and for a second just sat there. He saw some of the Patches and Prospects milling around outside, some of them working on bikes, a few of them all but fucking a club whore against the side of the club.

  This was his life, what he’d known for longer than he could even remember. But he did want something else, felt like he was missing something in his life.

  He never thought he would want an old lady, somebody to stand by his side no matter what. He had his brothers from the club, knew they’d always have his back, but that didn’t mean it filled the void he felt. Weasel tried to pretend like he’d always been fine, like he didn’t care about what he was missing or what he could have.

  But ever since meeting Renee, she was all he thought about, all he wanted in his life.

  But because she was back, living in his house, it was harder to stay away, harder to try to pretend like he didn’t want her in the way he did.

  Weasel knew he couldn’t fake this forever, knew that the strain and need he felt inside of himself would come out sooner rather than later.

  He didn’t want to ruin things with her, didn’t want to push her away or make her feel uncomfortable, but he also couldn’t live with this emotion that ate at him.

  Weasel set his skullcap on the handle and climbed off the bike. He walked past the club members and Prospects groping and grinding on the side of the clubhouse, made his way inside, and ignored all the action going on around him. Drinking, smoking, even some Prospects doing drugs. All littered the interior of the club.

  He headed downstairs to where the weight room was. It was a crude setup, almost barbaric in nature and nothing like you’d find in a gym. But for what the guys needed to do, it worked out just fine.

  When he finally reached the bottom, he took off his cut and headed over to the dented-in rusted lockers that were set up on the side of the wall. He took off his jeans and grabbed a pair of track shorts from the locker. After those were on and his shit kickers were off and sneakers covered his feet, he walked over to the punching bag. He just needed to get some aggression out, try to numb his emotions.

  For the next half hour, he hit the punching bag over and over again, his knuckles aching, his body covered in sweat. But he didn’t stop, couldn’t. All he kept thinking about was Renee, how he wanted to go back to the house, strip her clothes off, and show her how he wanted to take care of her.

  And fucking hell, he’d take care of her real good.

  He had no order in his life, no control if he was being honest. He restrained himself in everything he did, but that was his only c
ontrol, that was him hiding what he wanted, how he really felt.

  He stepped away from the bag, panting, his chest rising and falling, his body covered in sweat. He was focused on the lightly swinging red and duct-taped, patched-up bag. Weasel should just go to Renee, stop jacking around with his emotions and finally tell her how he felt.

  The worst she could do was say she didn’t want him, to tell him that there was nothing that would ever happen between them.

  And he’d deal with that, respect what she wanted. But he’d never stop loving her, never stop wanting her.

  With his mind made up, Weasel grabbed his clothes, headed upstairs to take a quick shower and grow some balls to finally tell her how he felt. He didn’t know how Vengeance would react to it all, even if she did turn him down. He was going after Vengeance’s baby sister, and tarnished past between them or not, that was family.

  He’d tell Renee exactly how he felt, what he wanted to do to her, have with her. But he’d also let her know he couldn’t walk away. He loved her, dammit, and he needed her as his.

  Once he was showered and dressed again, he left the clubhouse and headed to his place. He parked his bike. His heart thundering with what he planned on saying. Without overthinking it he headed inside, followed the sound of Renee in the kitchen, and stopped there a second just watching her.

  Fuck, she looked so gorgeous.

  She was humming to herself, maybe not even aware he was here. But she’d soon find out more than she probably wanted to. She’d find out exactly how loved and wanted she was. Renee would see that a hardened biker like him could treat her like a fucking queen.

  If there was one thing that Weasel knew, it was that he couldn’t ignore what he felt anymore. It was eating him up inside, and fuck if he could live with that.

  12

  Ignoring Weasel had been one of the hardest things Renee had ever done. She had loved him for so long. She’d developed a crush on him when she was younger but knew that there was no way in hell anything would happen. It couldn’t. They were worlds apart, and she knew that. There was no way either of them could be together. Vengeance would pitch a fit, and Weasel had all those club whores that loved him.

  But the way he looked at her right now, standing in the doorway, made her feel something … deeper.

  “Vengeance called,” she said, not knowing what to say, the words falling out of her like they meant something more. She finished doing the few dishes that were there, needing to keep busy, and grabbed a cloth to dry her hands. “He said the club has a meeting tomorrow. You’ve got to be there. You weren’t answering your cell phone.”

  She tucked some hair behind her ear. Only a small table separated them.

  His muscles seemed harder, as if he’d been working out.

  A distant memory came forward of another time.

  She had been about fifteen, and underneath the clubhouse was a gym for some of the members to blow off steam. Weasel had been there, and she’d stood inside the door, leaning against the wall, watching as he attacked a punching bag. It had been well worn and falling apart, but that hadn’t stopped him from attacking it.

  His back had been covered in his sweat, and the veins in his arms seemed to bulge much like they did now.

  She smiled, recalling what he’d said to her.

  “Sometimes you need to hit something just to make you feel better.”

  After she had left, there had been one too many times that she’d hit something.

  “I see you’re still killing the punching bag,” she said.

  “Sometimes you need to hit something.”

  That was all he said.

  “I know you hit that because of me.” She wouldn’t look away. This time she forced herself to stare right into his eyes as she talked. “When I left, I knew it was the biggest mistake I had ever made. I regretted it all the time. Hated every single second of it but I thought I was in love. I thought I was doing the right thing, Weasel.”

  “How could you be doing the right thing if every second you fucking hated it? I called you, Renee. I called you every single day for over a year. I begged you to come back.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she remembered all of those messages. Sometimes when he called she’d be sat staring at his name on her cell phone, tempted to accept him. Instead, she’d waited for it to go to voicemail and then listen to him.

  “I was afraid,” she said.

  “What were you afraid of?”

  “Being laughed at. Being told that there was no way I could come back. The things I said to Vengeance, to you, to the club. Only when I was away and able to really see what I’d done and said, I was an awful person. Don’t you see that?”

  “We all do bad things.”

  She dropped her arms and sighed. “That’s not a good enough excuse in my book to say and do the stuff I did. Vengeance is my brother, and you were my best friend.”

  “Fuck being your friend.” Weasel stepped toward her, rounding the table so that he stood right in front of her, nearly toe to toe. “You think I give a fuck about being your friend?”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “I was your friend, Renee. I watched you grow and saw what a beautiful woman you’ve become, and then I watched as you started to withdraw. I know that was my fault. I saw you, and I didn’t do fuck all to stop it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I wanted you. You were younger than me. I didn’t want to take the chance of a great life away from you. The club is not for everyone. I saw some of the old ladies succumb to drink and drugs because they couldn’t handle it. They had to be put down because they couldn’t handle the life. When you’re part of it, there’s no turning back. There’s no ratting us out. It’s us or them. You’re a smart girl, and even though your brother is part of the club. I didn’t want any of this for you.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks as he stroked her cheek.

  “I didn’t want me for you. But then I saw you with that fucking prick in town. I’ve never known jealousy before but with you, I could fucking taste it. I lost count of the number of times I nearly killed that motherfucker. I saw what he was doing, polluting your mind against the club. Vengeance didn’t know what to do. There were so many times I could have stopped it because you and me both know one thing, don’t we?”

  Again, she was confused.

  The look in his eyes, the tenderness, it was all too much. Could she hope that he at least cared? That it hadn’t just been here with these feelings all along?

  He sighed. “You really don’t have a fucking clue to how I feel, do you?”

  “What are you saying, Weasel? Forgive me for being a little slow on this but just say what you’re talking about.” Her entire body was tense, and she didn’t know what to say or do, what to hope.

  “How about I show you?”

  Before she had chance to complain, he held onto her face, tilted her head back, and slammed his lips down on hers. At first she froze, not sure what to do.

  Weasel was kissing her.

  The man she had wanted all her life was finally kissing her. It was a dream come true, and she didn’t have a clue what to do. She wanted to jump for joy and to scream how happy she was.

  Then she grabbed his arms as he pulled back.

  “You’re not kissing me back,” he said, licking his lips.

  “You kissed me.”

  “I know.”

  “Kiss me again.” She cupped the back of his head, and he slammed his lips down on hers. Nothing else mattered to her anymore. It was just her and Weasel. Vengeance would have a fit if he found out, but she’d worry about that another time.

  Right now, she just wanted his lips, his kiss, and maybe one day, his love.

  13

  Renee gasped out against his lips and then opened for him. He stroked her tongue with his, claimed her as if she was his property and he owned every part of her. But he did own every part of her. He always had.

  Before she knew what was
happening Weasel had her lifted in his arms. She had no choice but to wrap her legs around him, tangle her arms around his neck, and hold on as he mouth-fucked her … and that was exactly what he did.

  “So fucking good, Renee. I knew you’d taste like this, feel like this.” He walked them toward the wall, and she felt the stiff outline of his cock against her pussy. God, she was wet, and it was all because of this man, because of the emotions she had for Weasel.

  She’d loved him for longer than she cared to admit, but the fear of the unknown and the fact she didn’t know if she could ever have a life with him, made her step back. It made her move on with her life and make a horrible decision.

  But he wanted her now, was taking her, claiming her, and she wouldn’t stop this.

  They crashed against the wall, the kissing continuing, growing stronger, more brutal in its passion.

  He broke away from her and they stared at each other for a moment. Weasel had his arms wrapped around her tightly, his hand cupping her ass keeping her close to him. Renee could feel the length of him, the heat of his dick, seep right through the material of her pants.

  “I should go slow, be gentle.” He lowered his gaze to her lips. “But when it comes to you I can’t help myself.” He stared at her lips for long seconds before lifting his gaze to her eyes.

  Her breath hitched. His expression was fierce, his body big and strong. He made her feel like a woman.

  “Knowing you were with that motherfucker makes me want to kill someone, Renee.”

  “I’ve wanted you for a long time but was afraid of what would happen, of what would not happen.”

  “Fuck, baby,” he said softly. This was a situation she never thought she’d be in with Weasel.

  “What about everything that has happened, and my brother?”

  He shook his head. “I only want to think about you and me.” He moved his face closer to hers and then said in a low, husky voice, “I have wanted you for a long time but told myself that you and I being together wasn’t ever going to happen.” He rested his forehead on hers, closed his eyes, and breathed out.