Elle didn't know how long she stood there trembling uncontrollably, hours maybe, or mere minutes, but finally she forced her legs to move, first one and then the other. She gripped the handle for the door twice, her sweaty palms slipping off the cool metal, before she could pull it open and sneak through.
She didn't stop at all, taking off like a shot as soon as she was outside, the dark night air falling around her like a blanket, turning everything into menacing shadows. By the time she made it to her car her heart was galloping like a herd of wild horses and it took her three tries to get the keys in the ignition and turn the engine over.
Finally, she pulled out of the driveway and out onto the highway that would lead her home, to safety, and away from Honey. And as she drove, the clubhouse receding quickly as she sped away, her thoughts kept coming back to him again and again, dread filling her stomach at the realization that she would see him the next day at the farm. The one man who had teased her and tormented her and kept her on edge for over six months, and now, he was with her. She could feel him, twinging around her heart no matter what she did to stop him.
"Damn it!" she cursed softly, fighting against him, fighting against herself. But it was no use. He was already there, burrowed deep. It would take a hell of an effort to get him back out again. Well, no one had ever said that Elle Watson gave up easily.
Chapter 13
Honey rushed down the empty hallway towards the front of the clubhouse. A part of him had been hoping that Elle would still be there somehow, standing just outside the door, waiting for him. He shook his head, calling himself a hundred types of foolish at the useless thought. If he knew anything, it was Elle Watson and he would bet any amount of money that just then she was having one of her bouts of anxiety, trying to convince herself that nothing had happened between them, that it was just a moment of weakness, that it didn't mean anything.
"Fuck that," he whispered angrily under his breath, at her or at himself he wasn't sure. But he did know one thing. It sure as hell had happened, and it sure as hell had meant something. A great fucking something, actually.
With a sigh, he fought to tear his thoughts away from Elle and back to the problem at hand, because, as he neared the big double doors that separated the bar from the rest of the clubhouse, he could tell that there was most definitely a problem.
Honey could hear the familiar rumble of anger coming from the main room and he could feel the tension, hanging in the air like a lit fuse even before he pushed open the doors and walked in.
He stopped in his tracks just in front of the door but nobody turned towards him, nobody even noticed he was there at all as he quickly scanned the crowded room full of rowdy drunk bikers, more unfamiliar faces than he cared for. And they were angry. Angry like only a mob could be angry. That irrational rage that feeds off itself like a cancer, growing and growing, wild and out of control, and Honey knew, completely unpredictable. All it would take was one match to have this crowd going off like fireworks.
It was then he noticed it. Everyone's gaze was locked on whatever was happening in the center of the bar, but at the back of the crowd as he was there were too many people in front of him to see. His view was blocked. It took a little bit of maneuvering, sticking to the outer perimeter until he found a clearing that leant him a view of what was happening, what had captured all of their attention. He drew in a sharp breath when he saw it.
Damn it. He'd been worried about getting the note to Joel before it was too late, but it looked like it already was. Standing there in the middle of the circle of bikers was Joel. He was still sitting on one of the bar stools, looking coolly unconcerned, but Honey knew the man. And he might as well have been a boxer waiting on the balls of his feet, just waiting for the right moment to strike.
Honey could see it in the tense line of his shoulders, the way his eyes moved constantly, always watching, always assessing. He had moved slowly until the bar was at his back. Smart. That way no one could sneak up on him. And if the President of the fucking Dirty Cruisers was worried about someone trying to take him out, Honey was damn near pissing in his pants.
Of course he, like Joel, had learned at a young age to never show fear, to always keep it locked tight inside. Because enemies could always smell fear, like a shark scenting blood in the water. A weakness that could be exploited. And it broke Honey's heart a little to have to think of his crew, of his family, as enemies. But they were circling now. He didn't have much of a choice.
"God damn it, Joel," Honey muttered under his breath as he shifted and he could see who was facing off against their president. He couldn't say he was surprised in the least to see Viper standing there. His hands clenched into fists, his face red and mottled with anger, and his eyes glaring bloody fucking murder at Joel. Yeah, he was definitely too late.
For a second, Honey wondered how it could have happened. After their old president had retired, Joel had been voted in unanimously as the new leader. He'd proven himself after all the shit that had gone down with that asshole Maurice and the drug shipment gone bad. Hot Wheels had been arrested, and they all had come close to being put away as well.
Most of the details were still unknown to the rest of the crew. Maybe that was why it had been so easy for Viper to manipulate them. Because he knew what had happened six months ago. He had fucking helped them to move the shipment of stolen weed. And then Joel had realized just how profitable the farm was and backed Carla when she took it over.
It had seemed like the perfect solution at the time. A way for them to keep up business as usual and protect the members from getting arrested or getting into trouble with the law again. But Viper had taken it, and twisted it, into something else entirely. Something that served his plan perfectly to overthrow Joel and take over as president himself.
Honey snorted out loud. Viper, as president of the Dirty Cruisers? He'd rather shoot himself in the foot than have to follow orders from that arrogant, self-centered, delusional bastard. And he was delusional if he thought that they would give up without a fight.
Quickly, he scanned the tense crowd until he found them. Tucker, the large man standing just to Joel's right, shifting from foot to foot as if he wasn't sure where the first attack would come from, a look of strain on his normally placid face. Carla was right behind him, fear and concern visible in her bright blue eyes even from where Honey was standing. She looked like she wanted to run forward to stand beside Joel but Tucker kept her back with a light touch on her arm. He bent down to whisper something and finally she nodded, firm resolve taking over where the need to fight had just been.
A few feet over, Honey spotted Hot Wheels. She had the same look of readiness that Carla had, but it was tempered with resignation. Unlike Carla, who had only known the crew for less than a year, Hot Wheels had been a member for almost as long as he himself had. And she'd seen fights before, bad fights, but never in the crew itself. Like it was fragmenting from the inside and Honey felt a moment of helplessness because he didn't know how to stop it. He didn't know how to stop the only family he'd ever known from tearing itself apart.
The one good thing, Honey thought to himself as a bitter half smile pulled up one corner of his mouth, was that Elle wasn't there. Knowing her, she would have already jumped right in the middle of this shit show and would be trying to talk them all down, probably using words that none of these assholes would understand and, in the end, causing more trouble than anything else. And the whole time he would be dragging her delectable ass to safety she'd be telling him, in that prim and proper teacher's voice that she used when she was lecturing, that she had the situation perfectly in control and that he had no right to save her. Again.
He could practically hear her voice in his head and the sound swept through him, distracting him. And knew it was too dangerous to let himself be distracted, so with an effort of will, he pushed thoughts of Elle away, tucking them back in the corner of his mind as he tried to focus on what was happening in front of him. Because he could feel it. He could feel the tension grow even thicker in the bar as everyone seemed to hold their breath. And then he heard it.
The raised voices of Joel and Viper. The angry crowd shifted again and he lost his vantage point, unable to see them he was flying blind and they were too far away and the rumble of the biker's too loud for him to make out the words. All he could hear was their voices, sharp, tense, and on edge.
With a jolt, Honey pushed through the crowd, the note still crumpled in his fist, forgotten now as he tried to get closer, feeling time start to slow in that odd way that it always does right before something really, really bad is about to happen. Like now. He could feel the tension ramp up even higher, the anger pull tighter like a string on a puppet made to dance and they were all just part of the act.