Killer(3)

Crap. He really couldn’t handle thinking about Kelsey in such a way. She’d been the light to everything that darkened his world, and now she was gone.

“If you want to talk about it you can. Kelsey was fucking wrong, man. She should have told you. I won’t tell the guys if you cry or snivel around like a little baby,” Steven said.

“I’ve been a biker and a killer for a long time. Don’t fucking start with me. Leave her out of tonight.”

“I know. I know. I know. You’re way older and all that shit. It doesn’t mean fuck all to me. We’re the same.” Steven kept his gaze on the road.

“We’re not the same. You don’t have a woman waiting for you, and you’ve not just found out the woman you were wanting belongs to someone else.” Killer slammed his fist on the dash in the hope of relieving some of his anger. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

“Hey, don’t go taking your anger out on my fucking car. You got an issue with your woman then stop being a fucking pussy,” Steven said, yelling. The car came to a sudden stop, and Steven turned to glare at him.

“What the fuck did you call me?” Killer asked.

“A pussy. If another guy has gotten your girl then man up, and then go and claim her. You’ve got the whole club behind you. They’re pissed, royally pissed. You’re one of us, and we’ll help you. Stop taking your anger out on my car.” Steven pulled off again.

Sitting back, Killer thought about what the other man said. Nothing could stop him from going after Kelsey, but first, he needed to get completely fucking smashed.

****

“Why are you here?” Kelsey asked, storming back into her apartment. She’d tried to catch up with Killer, but he clearly didn’t want to talk to her. Running after a bike hadn’t been her brightest idea at all. She wasn’t into running and was already panting for breath. Michael shouldn’t be here at all. He never bothered her. That was their deal.

“I could have the limo chase after him if you wish,” Michael said, pointing toward his expensive mode of transportation. She charged past him heading toward her apartment, and now she was waiting for him to answer her question.

Michael closed the door, smoothing down his Italian designed business suit. She imagined everything he wore cost a good fortune. When they first met she’d hated him on sight. Her feelings hadn’t changed in the short meetings they had together.

“Why would I need a reason to visit my wife?”

She cringed at the title. They’d been married since she was eighteen and he was twenty-eight. The ten year age gap hadn’t bothered her at the time. Nothing had bothered her about Michael. Kelsey hadn’t wanted anything from him other than the promise he would leave her alone. All he wanted from her was her name on a marriage certificate. At the time, she couldn’t say no as she’d needed what he offered far more than he needed her. Their ceremony had taken place in a small lawyer’s office with a priest to bless their wedded life.

“I’m not your wife, Michael. You’re not my husband, not really.” She walked into her kitchen and put the kettle on. The day at the dentist had been a long one. All of their clients had something to say about The Skulls, the local ruling biker club. She had done nothing but think about Killer, the one man who got to her in ways no other man ever had.

“A lot of people would say differently. You’re given an allowance, Kelsey, so why are you living in squalor?” Michael changed the subject, irritating her.

Closing her eyes she counted to ten. She loved her apartment, and with no intention of being with another man she hadn’t thought about finding something bigger. When she’d agreed to marry Michael, he’d paid her a lump sum of money and gave her a monthly allowance. The amount was bigger than anything she ever earned as a dental nurse.

The initial payment she had used to help with her parents’ medical bills. She’d not seen her family in a long time, but she knew they were grateful for the money she gave them to leave them living in peace. Kelsey had lied to Tate the first time they met. Her family life had never been perfect at all, far from it.

“I’m not living in squalor.” She gritted her teeth as he checked out her books.

“I know you used the money I gave you to pay for your parents’ health bills. Since then you’ve been putting the money back. Why?” He turned toward her, holding one of her cookbooks. Michael had sent it to her when they first got married. She’d refused to go on a honeymoon, and they’d never had sex. In fact, they’d never even kissed either. He’d offered to give her the honeymoon, the wedding package. She didn’t want anything from him at all. There was no attraction between them. He didn’t need her for sex as he was more than satisfied in that area. That’s what he had told her all those years ago.