"He regretted it," I said, everything coming together. "He was sorry he did it. That's what they were fighting over."
"You're sure?" Erica whispered. She didn't sound so sure.
"You tell me," I said. "How did it sound when they were fighting?"
She shrugged a little, closing her eyes. "Let me think. Um, the one guy-the Wolf-said something about a deal. How there was no backing out." Her eyes flew open. "That lines up with what you're thinking!"
"Right," I said. "He knew it was a mistake, the asshole. And he wanted out. But there was no way out by then. So the Wolf killed him, because he thought he might come back to me. God, what was he thinking in the first place?"
"Did you guys have a fight or something?"
"No!" I stood up, thinking back to the past year. "We were fine. No problems, no resentment. Lance was always the sort of person who went along, you know? Whatever was best for the club. I never had a problem with him, ever. That's why this … this fucking hurts."
I couldn't hide it. I was in a shit ton of pain. "Something like this makes you question everything," I said, holding my hands to my head. "I mean, literally everything. Who can I trust? Anyone? Are they all out there, plotting something?"
"No," Erica said. "No, you can't think like that. I've been watching them. They all love you."
"I thought he did, too!" I laughed, looking down at her in the chair. "I did. I thought we were like brothers. I fucking mourned that lying sack of shit!" I picked up the camera where it sat on the desk, and threw it at the wall. It broke in two. I heard Erica groan.
"I fucking cried actual tears for him. I thought I let him walk into his death, him and the others. He fucking let them die. He didn't care. His brothers. He knew they were going to die, and he didn't try to stop it. He got them killed." I punched the top of the desk, then kicked another chair across the room.
The lounge went silent. They must have thought I was killing Erica, or myself.
Then, another thought went through my head. "There's another one out there," I said.
"Stop saying that."
"No, it's true. There's got to be at least one more."
"What makes you say that?"
"Lance was never the type of person to do anything alone. He always had to have a partner, someone to back him up. He wasn't very self-confident. Even when he brought an idea to the table, he had to have at least one person backing him up in advance, or else he wouldn't mention it."
"So you think he brought somebody else in with him?"
I nodded. "Or they brought him in."
"What if it was one of the other guys who supposedly died along with him?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so. You could be right, but I don't think so. Something's telling me to be on my guard now." I looked at her, and I felt nothing but despair. "I'm so fucking lost right now," I admitted. "I don't know what to think."
She reached out to me, and I let her touch my face. Brett was the only woman I'd ever opened up to like this, and we were just close friends. Erica was right-I knew she had feelings for me, and she was a good kid, but I never saw her that way. She was a trusted confidante.
Erica was something else. She stroked my face, and it was like a balm.
"I want to help you all that I can," she whispered.
I jerked backward. "No way," I growled. Her face went deep red.
"What?" She laughed harshly. "I'm standing here, offering to help you, and you act like I said something awful."
"You did," I walked to the other side of the room. "Get out of here." I put my hand on the knob, ready to open the door.
"Why are you acting this way? I just want to help you."
"You can't help me," I hissed. "I'm part of this world, and you're part of another world, and I'll probably be dead soon anyway. One of my own men plotted against me, and another one probably is, too. Alexander York wants me gone, so he can take over the club. Get it? He won't stop until I'm out of the picture. Why the fuck would you want to be part of this?"
"Because … I want to make it so you don't have to die … " She looked like she might cry, and I didn't even care anymore. I was tired of everything.
"Oh, right. Because you've been so good at keeping me out of trouble so far." I smirked at her, shaking my head. "Give me a break. You couldn't even keep from screaming when you saw the stabbing. What the hell good are you gonna do me now?"
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Protecting herself like my words hurt her. "If I didn't, you wouldn't know anything about this, would you? You'd never know someone was helping your enemies."
I growled and rushed at her, not because I was mad at her, but because she was right. I wasn't in control of anything. I'd been blind, full of myself. Sure my men loved me and wanted to stand by me. The entire time, someone was going behind my back. Someone probably still was.
She backed away, her eyes wide with terror. I was too fast for her, and I grabbed her by the upper arms. I shook her, wanting her to feel the pain I was in, if only for a second. I wanted her to see how dangerous this was. She didn't need to be any part of this.
"You're too good for this," I whispered, shaking her. "You need to get out of here and pretend we don't exist. Let us live and die here. You go far away. Do something else. Live a normal life." Tears were streaming down her face, and she let out a little whimper every time I shook her.
"I don't want to," she finally whispered when the shaking stopped, and I held her still. My fingers dug into her arms. Why didn't she see? Why was she making it so hard for me to let her go?
Instead of pushing her away, as I should have done, I pulled her to me and pressed my mouth against hers. It was the only thing to do, the only thing that made any sense.
She let out another whimper, but this one didn't sound afraid. She was kissing me back before I knew it, with all the passion I had guessed she had inside her.
I turned around, with her in my arms, and pushed her against the desk. She sat on it, wrapping her legs around me. I forced my tongue between her lips, sweeping it around the inside of her mouth. I kissed her roughly, as hard as I could. I wanted to possess her, to hurt her, to make her scream my name and beg for more and beg me to stop. I crushed her body to me, running my hands over her back, then down to her ass.
She whimpered again, panting for breath, digging her short, sharp nails into my back. I hissed, taking her bottom lip between my teeth and biting it. She groaned with pleasure, her legs tightening around me. I pushed against her, my cock already hard and straining for her. I heard a groan from deep within her throat, and I knew she wanted this as much as I did. It was inevitable. I wanted her the minute I saw her on the ground.
"You guys? Breakfast!" I recognized Brett's voice, and that killed the moment. But when I opened my eyes and saw the naked need all over Erica's face, I thought it might be for the best.
"Saved by the breakfast," I muttered, stepping away just a little. Erica reached for me, wanting to pull me back to her, but I stayed strong. "This isn't right, right now," I said. "I'm afraid I would hurt you. I have too much in my head." Then I reached out and stroked my thumb over her bottom lip, which had a tiny drop of blood on it, where my teeth sank in.
She looked angry, disappointed. But I knew it was right.
And I knew, then and there, seeing the way she looked and feeling the way I did, that I would kill anyone who got in the way of her safety. I would burn down the Vicious Wolves clubhouse and everyone inside if it meant saving her. She was mine.
Chapter Eleven
The mood in the clubhouse was quiet, tense. Probably because everybody heard the fit I had inside the office when I found out about Lance's betrayal.
I did my best to cover, acting like nothing was wrong. I figured if I played it off, it would be forgotten.
It wasn't.
"What the fuck was that all about?" Onyx was staring hard at me as I piled my plate with pancakes and bacon. "I mean, you scared the shit out of the girls."
"I'll apologize to them," I said. I poured myself a cup of coffee and carried my stuff to the table. I didn't want to give my outburst more attention than I needed to.
"What happened?" I looked up at him and caught him looking at Erica. I knew right away that he blamed her.
"It wasn't about her," I muttered, taking a mouthful of food.