Rock's Redemption(Insurgents MC Romance Book 8)(18)

"I'm with the Insurgents MC. We're doing this piddly ass job as a favor  to a longtime friend." His gaze roamed over her body. She's still so  beautiful even though she's lost a lot of weight. He didn't remember the  dark circles under her eyes. "How can you be a part of this jerk's  lifestyle?"                       
       
           



       

She shrugged. "It's nice not being in control. I like being submissive  and he loves being dominant, so it works for us." She laughed nervously  before looking out the door for the umpteenth time.

"That wasn't who you were when I knew you."

"That was a long time ago. I don't think either of us knew who we were, Roche."

"I'm not Roche anymore. I'm Rock."

She smiled faintly. "And I'm no longer Clotille. I'm Pet." They stared  at each other for a few seconds, and then she cleared her throat. "Are  you married?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"Nah."

"I can't believe a handsome, rugged man like you isn't taken."

"Don't wanna be."

"Don't you get lonely?"

"I said I wasn't taken, not that I'm living like a monk. I got plenty of women. No worries there."

She skimmed her eyes over his body. "I bet you do. You grew up to be quite a good-looking man."

"Merci."

She smiled, a touch of red kissing her cheeks. "I can't believe you're  here. It's so good to see you again," she said in a low voice.

"Let's go for lunch and catch up," he said, his gaze lingering on her full lips.

"I don't think I like you asking my pet out." Frederick's voice was sharp and steely.

Clotille's hand flew to her mouth and she trembled.

"I don't give a damn what you like," Rock gritted, his six-foot-one frame looming over the other man.

Frederick ignored him and stared hard at Clotille. "Why were you talking to him without my permission?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You're sorry, what?"

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"You disobeyed me, didn't you?"

"Yes, I disobeyed you, Sir."

Before he could continue, Rock cut in. "Don't blame her. I'm the one who  came in bugging her. She told me to leave and not talk to her. I kept  pushing it."

"And she kept talking to you. My point exactly," Frederick said  matter-of-factly. He glared at Rock. "If you think for one minute that  I'm going to let you paw and soil my pet, you're dumber than you look."

"You better fuckin' watch your mouth ‘cause I won't think twice ‘bout  beating the shit outta you. I don't give a fuck if you own the goddamned  world. You show respect or your prick friends will be scraping you off  your white marble floors."

Frederick looked at Clotille. "Get upstairs. Now!"

"She's not going anywhere. We're not done talking." He saw Clotille blanch, her lips quivering.

"I don't want any of you bikers in the house. Just stay outside."

"Fuck you. Come with me," Rock said to her.

She looked at Frederick. He smiled. "Pet, you have permission to speak."

"I can't. I'm with Frederick."

Frederick looked at him smugly and Rock clenched his fists, willing  himself to keep his temper in check. If she wants this fucked-up life,  she can have it. I'm sick of this shit. How the hell is Clotille even  here? Who gives a fuck? First thing when I get back, I'm telling Banger  to assign another brother to this bullshit job.

She went behind Frederick, her hand on his shoulder. He laughed. "I  think my pet has spoken. Just because you're younger and ride a  motorcycle you think all the women want you. I can give my pet more than  you ever could."

Rock looked one last time at the woman he'd loved since he was eleven  years old. Even though her hand was firm on the asshole's shoulder, a  solitary tear spilled from her eye, leaving a wet trace down her face.  As he watched it, he could feel her heart breaking.

Rock marched out of the room and went up to Jax and Chas. "He wants us  outside only." The three guys left the house, and Rock went over to his  bike and got on. His cams screamed to life and he ignored the baffled  faces of his brothers as he sped away from Clotille.





Chapter Seven





The wind slashed at Rock's face and body as he rode furiously back to  Pinewood Springs. The last person he ever thought he'd see again was  Clotille, and she turned out to be the woman who had been pricking at  his mind for the past five weeks. She's living as a slave for some rich  man's amusement. What the fuck, Clotille? He didn't buy it for one  minute that she wanted to be part of that asshole's lifestyle. Hell, he  knew her, plus he saw it in her eyes and heard it in her voice that she  was lying. She was with Frederick Blair for a reason.                       
       
           



       

Rock rounded the corner along the pass so low to the ground his shin was  inches from the asphalt. As he pulled up, he remembered Isa telling him  that Clotille's father had gambled away all their money and they'd lost  everything, but now her mother was living in a big house in a ritzy  neighborhood. A wry smile cracked his face; he'd just figured out where  the money came from to allow her mother to live in luxury.

He couldn't believe Clotille had ended up in such a situation. Shit! If  she needs money, I can help her out. He yelled and the wind swallowed up  his cuss words. Rock had money from the sale of his mother's land, and  he hadn't wanted to touch a penny of it. He hadn't even wanted to sell  the land in the first place. He thought of it as blood money, so he'd  placed it in an investment account which had been growing steadily for  years. The club also gave a generous stipend to all the members thanks  to their dispensaries and various businesses in Pinewood Springs.

He hung a sharp right down the small dirt road leading to the clubhouse.  Pulling up, he jumped off his bike and walked inside, the familiar  scents of beer and weed welcoming him home. Before he reached the bar,  Bruiser said, "Banger wants to see you in his office."

Rock stiffened. Had Frederick contacted Liam already? The whiny pussy.  Rock rapped on the office door and entered when Banger's voice boomed  out. A scowling president greeted him as he walked into the room then  sank into a chair in front of the desk.

"Why the fuck did you leave your post? And what the fuck were you  thinking by hitting on a client's wife? Shit, don't you have enough  pussy in the club and town?"

Rock's eyes widened for a second when he heard "wife," but then his  complacent expression returned. "It turns out I know her from back in  the day. We're both Cajuns from the same parish."

"So what the fuck does that have to do with you hitting on her and leaving your post?"

Rock stared defiantly at Banger's piercing gaze. "I wasn't hitting on  her. And I don't like the sonofabitch who owns the house. We don't get  along, so I thought it was best that I leave before I beat the shit  outta him."

For several seconds Banger and Rock engaged in a stare down, neither one  giving an inch until the president slowly shook his head. "Fuck, man.  You may have blown the whole thing with Liam. You know how it is-it's  all about the money. There's no way Liam is giving this fucker up for  us, and we need him to get info on the Demon Riders. You shouldn't have  lost your head."

"Yeah, well, I did. I don't like the way he's treating her. She's like a  goddamned slave." Rock crossed his arms and jutted his jaw out.

"Yeah, I know all about the dinner party from the last time you were up  there. Some of the guys told me about it. It sounds to me that's what  they're into. It might not be for everyone but it seems like they  fucking like it. It's not for you to decide what's right or wrong for  her. You need to back the fuck off. This isn't just about you and some  pussy; it's about the Insurgents. The club has a job and its reputation,  and I can't have one of the brothers fucking things up because he has  the hots for someone else's wife."

Rock just glared.

"I'll call Liam and smooth this out. The guy doesn't want you near his place so-"

"That suits me just fine ‘cause I have no fuckin' intention of going  back there." Rock stood up. "We done here?" He wanted to take a hot  shower, drink some brandy, and maybe fuck Lola and Rosie. The last thing  he wanted to do was think about Clotille and how beautiful she looked.  He wanted to leave that far behind.

"We're done." Banger looked at his computer screen, his action  dismissing Rock. He left and climbed the stairs to his room, the shock  of seeing his old flame still reverberating through him.

After his shower, he poured himself a brandy and sipped it slowly.  Clotille's eyes had always captivated him, but at that moment they  haunted him. He sighed. She saved her family by selling herself to the  guy. Are they really married or is Frederick using "wife" lightly? He  wouldn't put it past Frederick to be saying that on purpose to piss him  off. Why the hell do I care? We haven't had anything since we were  teenagers. Then he remembered how she'd gone back and married Luc a few  months after Rock was incarcerated. That had hurt more than anything.  He'd acted like it didn't, especially to Isa, but inside he'd been  shattered. He'd needed her-his mother had been killed by his father, for  fuck's sake-but she'd left him when the going got tough. She fuckin'  bailed on me.