Wrath Read online

  “And I love him.”

  Tank shook his head. “No, Lila. Wrath is in love with you. He has been for a long fucking time.”

  Lila didn’t speak for so long she wondered if the silence had become awkward for Tank. Although she’d always hoped Wrath might feel the same for her, and she’d seen the looks he’d given her, she’d never let herself think he felt that for her.

  “He’s in love with you, Lila,” Tank said and leaned forward, his look intense.

  “He told you this?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Of course not. You know how he is. He keeps shit buried, but I’m not blind or stupid. I could see the way he would always stare at you when he didn’t think I was looking.” Tank was silent for a second. “But I noticed each time.”

  She swallowed, her thoughts on Wrath, and what she wanted … needed to do. “Can you tell me how to get a hold of him?”

  Tank nodded right away. “I think you talking to him will be good, Lila. I think it would be really good.”

  ****

  For the last few months Wrath had been doing nothing but hating every fucking minute of his life.

  For the last few months he’d done nothing but think about that night he’d let down Bunny and Lila, and put them in more danger.

  For the last few months, he’d done nothing but blame himself for every fucking thing that had happened to them that night.

  He stared at himself in the mirror, the gym in the basement of his house the only place he could let out his anger and energy. If he tried to release it outside of these four concrete walls he’d end up hurting some poor fucker that looked at him wrong.

  Wrath stared at his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror, watched the sweat drip off of his short dark hair and onto his chest, and hated himself even more. For the last few months he’d been working out, trying to get his self-hatred out that way instead of what he really wanted to do … get fucked up and not think about shit.

  He ran a hand over his face, wiping some of the sweat off, but it just formed again. He’d been working out for the last two hours, the sun wasn’t even up yet, and still he could go another round of working at the punching bag. His knuckles were bruised despite the tape he had on them, his muscles burned, and his limbs, if they could have spoken, would have cursed him out. But Wrath needed this, because what he wanted to do wasn’t going to help anything.

  And this helps? Beating the shit out of the workout equipment helps in making things right?

  No, he couldn’t make things right. What was done was done. Even now he kept thinking about, replaying over and over again in his head what the fuck had happened when Spike had gotten to Lila and Bunny. He closed his eyes and let that shame wash over him.

  Wrath was ready for any motherfucker that came into the room. He stood, his gun in hand, his focus on the bedroom door. He was relaxed, ready for anything. And then there was a gunshot ringing out, a bullet tore through the wood, and he felt the searing pain of it moving through his shoulder. But he gritted his teeth, held his stance, and trained his gun on who was about to come forward. Before he could fire off shots of his own the front door was kicked open, and some crazy asshole was charging forward with another prick following close behind, this war cry coming from them. They slammed back into the wall, and Wrath threw out a punch, connecting with the prick. The fight lasted several seconds, although the asshole had to be on something to have this kind of strength. He was also grunting, making off the wall comments between fighting, and Wrath knew a tweaker when he saw one.

  He pushed Spike away, punched him in the face a couple of times, and glanced to where the other man was standing. He kept twitching, his eyes looking wild, and the knife in his hand hanging loosely at his side. Just as Wrath was about to pull the trigger, Spike grinned and fired off another shot in Wrath’s leg.

  Wrath grunted from the pain, but he stayed upright.

  “Dirt, I’ll let you have some fun with this one. He’s looking like he might drop soon anyway.” Spike took a step back, and the other man came forward. He was grinning, his teeth yellow, crooked.

  Wrath felt the blood coming out of both gun wounds, but he’d had worse, and no way was he going to let some crazy motherfuckers hurt these women.

  The man named Dirt charged forward, the dirty knife in his hand raised. He pushed Wrath up against the wall, his strength surprising given his frame, but then again Wrath was losing a lot of blood.

  The fucker stabbed him in the side, but Wrath pushed him away before the blade went in fully. Wrath lifted his gun, his vision starting to double, and the feeling of blood freely coming from the gunshot wounds feeling warm before chilling.

  “Time to let the darkness take you away,” Dirt said and laughed.

  For one second that expression on the insane bastard’s face, and what he’d said, had Wrath stilling, had his body going in and out of consciousness.

  No. I won’t let this fucker take me down.

  It was as if they lifted their hands at the same time, Wrath holding his gun, and Dirt holding the knife. Dirt charged forward again, pushed Wrath up against the wall, but Wrath moved to the side just as the knife would have gone right into his gut. The blade slipped and plunged into his outer thigh instead.

  Wrath lifted his hand, gripped Dirt’s neck, and looked at the fucker in the eyes. He brought the gun to Dirt’s temple, and while still holding his stare pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang through the room, causing the baby to start to cry louder. Dirt fell to the ground, and Wrath pushed him away. He took a step closer, trying to go toward Spike, but his vision was so blurry now he couldn’t make out much. He fell to his knees, his whole body lighting up in pain. But he couldn’t go down like this. He looked up and saw Lila staring at him, her eyes wide, tears tracking down her cheeks.

  “Wrath,” she mouthed his name, or maybe she’d said it. He couldn’t hear anything anymore aside from the rush of blood in his ears. And then just like that the darkness rose up and pulled Wrath into its icy embrace.

  He opened his eyes, stared at his reflection again, and watched his expression change to rage. In a swift move, he reared his arm back and swung forward, slamming his fist into the glass. It cracked, shattered, shards falling to the floor around him, but still he was pissed.

  He’d let Bunny down.

  He’d let Lila down.

  Breathing out slowly, he thought about that night, about the way Lila had looked at him as he lay there bleeding. He’d been weak, so fucking weak, and what a shock since in his whole life he hadn’t let anything bring him down.

  He stared at the bullet wounds from that night, now healed, but a constant reminder that he’d fucked it up. Maybe he was being too hard on himself—hell, Tank had said as much—but Wrath couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t let himself give this a rest.

  Wrath turned from the broken glass and looked down at his hand. He was bleeding, but he didn’t give a fuck. The pain made him feel alive, although it didn’t dim anything else he felt.

  He looked around at the gym. He’d worked hard for the life he had, the possessions he had. He wasn’t a law-abiding citizen, didn’t give two fucks about trying to do things the legal way. He made his fortune off of selling drugs, running drugs, and owning shady businesses. He’d come from hell, but now made himself the king of that underworld. He ruled it with an iron fist, without putting up with anyone’s shit. It was because of that brutality that he reigned, and that no one fucked with him.

  If they did Wrath put them in the ground.

  Gladly.

  He walked over to the bench, sat his ass down, and rested his forearms on his knees. Blood dripped onto the floor from the cut in his hand, and he watched the red droplets landed on the tile.

  His thoughts cleared from his anger, and he thought of Lila.

  He always thought of Lila.

  How was she doing? How was the baby doing? Although he spoke with Tank, Wrath didn’t ask about Lila. He didn’t want to hash things up, d
idn’t want to go down that road again. He might want her, be so fucking in love with her his heart hurt from the fact he couldn’t have her, but he’d never bring her into his life.

  He couldn’t.

  He was a bastard, and she was better without him. But fucking hell did he need her in his life, and more than just him watching over her because she was Tank’s sister.

  Wrath wanted her by his side, as the only woman that he’d ever give his heart and soul to.

  Wrath wanted to be a father to Faye, to show her that there was good in this world.

  He laughed sardonically.

  Good in this world? Fuck. I’m the devil, and bringing Lila and that baby into my hell would only ruin them.

  He would ruin them, and he wasn’t about to do that. He couldn’t do that because Lila was his fucking world. She’d been his everything from the moment he saw her all those years ago.

  But Wrath couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a selfish bastard. Despite the fact Lila was too fucking good for him, and deserved someone who wasn’t into the underground scene, he still wanted her. The very thought of her with someone else made Wrath want to go out and kill someone.

  How would she feel, and what would she say, if she ever found out how badly he wanted her? Would she run from him if he admitted the lengths he’d go to make sure she was safe?

  You let her down, not just with the altercation with that motherfucker Spike, but before … when she had been with that motherfucker.

  He curled his hands into fists, the pain from the cut in his knuckles stinging, but he grinned. He deserved that pain and so much more.

  Chapter Two

  “Dude, you are so fucking obvious,” Cricket, one of the newest Patches said from beside him.

  Ruin glanced at the other man. He sported a full beard, a man bun, and ink that covered both arms, his chest, and snaked up his neck. Cricket had been with the club for the last year. He’d been recommended by another charter, and had just gotten out of prison when he’d come to the brothers’ clubhouse. Lucien had welcomed him in, and ever since then he’d been an integral part of the MC.

  “Fuck you,” Ruin said and went back to looking at Dotty. She was speaking with a few of the old ladies, but he was solely focused on her.

  Only her.

  She was small, but despite that she had curves that went on for miles. Even though he knew the hell she’d been through, and the hatred she felt toward herself over it, Ruin wanted her like a fucking bastard. He was an asshole for the things he thought … for the things he wanted to do with her. To her.

  But even though she’d been through the wringer, Ruin sensed and saw the strength in her blue eyes. She was strong, even if she had been through things that would make the strongest man fall to his knees.

  “You need to tread lightly with that, bro,” Cricket said, and Ruin looked over at the other man, glaring.

  “Didn’t I say fuck off?”

  Cricket ignored Ruin’s rant and gestured for the prospect behind the bar to get him a drink.

  “Besides, I’m not taking advice from a guy that makes it clear he doesn’t want commitment with a woman.”

  Cricket looked at him than. “That kind of commitment is a weakness, man.” Cricket’s hard, light gray eyes were focused right on Ruin. “Believe me, I know.”

  That piqued Ruin’s curiosity. “Yeah? You had an old lady before?”

  Cricket shook his head. “Almost got there one time, but that shit wasn’t for me.” Cricket took the bottle and shot glass from the prospect. “Believe me, I did her a favor. She dodged a fucking bullet not being with me.”

  Ruin didn’t ask anything more, because he didn’t care, but even if he had it was clear Cricket was done with the conversation.

  Cricket stood and looked at Ruin once more. “All I’m saying is a woman like that,” he tipped his chin toward Dotty, although he stared at Ruin, “doesn’t need any more drama in her life.” A moment of silence passed before Cricket spoke again. “And that’s all our lives are … drama, man.” And then Cricket turned and left down the hallway with the bottle of whiskey in one hand and a shot glass in the other.

  Ruin looked at Dotty again, and the smile on her face, although seeming a little shy, had his chest clenching painfully. Since she first came to the clubhouse she’d seemed so distant. But as the months had passed he’d seen the fire come back in her eyes. It was nice to see her healing, and he hoped he could continue to do that. He may not have known her before she was taken from the hell that Spike had created, but she was all he could think about.

  But Cricket’s words played through in his head, and a part of Ruin knew she was better off without him in her life. He wasn’t the hero in some sappy romance book, or the knight that came and rescued the damsel in distress. He was a killer, a criminal, and he always would be.

  That was his life, what he’d signed up for, and he would never change that.

  But he’d protect her, obsess over her, and if any motherfucker tried to mess with her … yeah, Ruin would have no problem laying them down permanently.

  ****

  Lila watched Tank and Bunny put the car seat in Tank’s truck. She couldn’t help but smile at the way Tank looked at Faye, at the fact he was so gentle with her, as if she might break. He was such a good uncle, and he and Bunny would make great parents one day. She lifted her hand and waved at Bunny, watched her brother and his old lady get in the truck, and then they left to spend some time alone with Faye.

  She turned from the window and stared at the slip of paper on the kitchen table. Her heart started pounding at the thought of the number scrawled on it, and the fact she was going to call Wrath. She hoped she could speak with him, and that she wouldn’t chicken out on why she really wanted to talk to him.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her cell phone and made her way to the table. Taking a seat, grabbing the paper, and staring down at it, she felt her heart jump in her throat. She shouldn’t be so nervous to call him. Yeah, it had been months since she’d spoken to him, and that was after the attack on the club by Spike, but at times she’d gone years without saying a word to Wrath.

  Like when he went to prison for killing a man.

  But even then she had been in love with him, thought about him every day, even if she knew there could never be anything between them.

  Before she lost her nerve Lila dialed Wrath’s number, and prayed that this wouldn’t end up being a horrible mistake.

  ****

  Wrath sat at his desk in the warehouse where a lot of his business was handled, his focus on the wall, his muscles tight. He needed to let off steam, as he did every single fucking day. But he had his business to run, the drugs to distribute and make, and the guns to ship out.

  Running a hand over his face, he breathed out roughly and leaned back in the chair. The leather creaked just as his cell started to vibrate. Picking it up, he stared down at the screen. He didn’t recognize the number, but it had to be someone he knew if they were calling him on this line.

  It better be someone he knew or they were about to realize they’d made a really bad fucking mistake calling him.

  “Yeah?” he all but barked into the receiver. There was a moment of silence, and just before he was about to go off on who had called to waste his time he heard a female clear her throat.

  “Wrath?” she said his name softly, and every part of Wrath came alive with a jolt. It was like a bolt of lightning had slammed right into him, bringing him awake after being asleep for far too long.

  “Lila?” he said, but his voice sounded so damn deep and thick.

  “Hi.”

  It sounded so fucking good to hear her voice. He braced his elbows on the table, rested his head in one hand, and closed his eyes. Talking to her made him realize how exhausted he really was.

  “Hey, you.” He opened his eyes and stared at the door that led out of his office and to the other parts of the warehouse that held the drugs and guns he dealt with. He didn’t want her ar
ound any of this shit, but he couldn’t let her go either.

  It was only a few months that he’d stayed away after the shit with Spike, but fuck, it had felt like an eternity.

  “How are you?” she asked, a shuffling sounding on the other end of the line.

  “I’ve been better,” he answered truthfully, but clearly left the bulk of his issues out of it. He might have told Tank why he stayed away, but he wasn’t about to lay all it out for Lila.

  Fuck no, because he didn’t need to look even weaker.

  He gritted his teeth at that thought. “How are you?” He dropped his hand to the table.

  “I’ve been better, too, I guess.”

  A moment of silence passed, and he thought about the things that could be wrong. Hell, he worried about Lila constantly, and the need to make sure she was safe was only amplified after all the Spike bullshit.

  “What’s wrong?” He sat up. The thoughts playing through his head that something was wrong, that Lila had been hurt, had rage filling him. “Someone fuck with you or the baby?” He clenched his hand on top of the desk, knowing Tank wouldn’t let them get hurt, but shit could get by even Lila’s brother.

  “Everyone’s fine,” she said softly, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re still looking out for me, even after all these years.”

  “Always,” he said with so much determination in his voice he had no doubt she could feel it through the phone. “I’ll always be there for you, even if I’m not right beside you.” He heard her breathing, and he wished he were beside her, feeling that breath along his skin. “I’m here for you and Faye, you have to know that.”

  “I know that,” she said softly, and he breathed out, now realizing he’d been holding it in. “I actually wanted to talk to you, but didn’t want to do it over the phone.”

  “But you’re okay?” He couldn’t help but think something was wrong, because why else would she call him out of the blue? Before the Spike incident they hadn’t spoken in years—despite her being on his mind every single minute of every single day.

  But that had been his fault for not reaching out, and then of course when he’d gone to jail for murder.