“Sorry,” I whisper, rubbing my head.
A man who looks to be in his late fifties is standing at the bar. He turns around to face me, and that’s when I get a full view of him. His jaw is a little too square and his eyes are partially slanted. I thought there was something familiar about him until I realized he looks like Chuck Bass, only older and instead of the suit, he’s wearing an MC cut.
“You must be Jade.” His voice is soft, from years of being doused in smoke.
“Yes,” I answer. “Sorry, I’m trying to find Royce.”
He ignores me. “Name’s Lion.”
“Lion?” I ask, though I shouldn’t. He’s scary and not likely open to answering questions.
“Jade!” Royce snaps from behind me, taking my hand in his and pulling me away. “Stop fucking wandering off.” Before I can argue, he’s dragging me through the sea of bodies and taking me up toward a set of stairs that lead to a second level.
I yank my hand out of his grip. “Who do you think you are, Royce? You can’t just force your way back into my life and hold me captive!” I reach inside my pocket, just as he slams the bedroom door closed behind us. “I’m calling Mom.”
“Yeah?” His tone is menacing, the smug half-grin on his face too cocky to be the Royce I knew. The Royce that cared for me. I have to force everything inside of me to not shiver in fear. “Do it.” He holds me to my spot with his glare. “See if she believes you.”
My shoulders sag in defeat. “What happened to you?” I ask, searching his face. The face I once looked at for reassurance and strength is now the one I feel I should fear. Some people only get one monster in their lifetime, apparently, I have two.
“To me?” Royce kicks off the door and after a couple of steps, his biker boots are hitting the tip of my Louboutins. “You is what happened, Duchess.” I can’t fight it, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t force my eyes away from his. The depth of his blue is deep enough to drown me. “Get on the bed.”
“Why am I here, though?” I ask, falling back onto the mattress. His room is decked out in black, Harley posters and there’s even the shaft of a handlebar hanging above his bed. No porn posters—thank fuck he actually has taste—and no used condoms that I can see. Yet. Honestly, I wouldn’t be ruling it out.
Royce takes out a pack of smokes from his back pocket and flips open the case to take one out. “You are the one who walked in here. So willing to make new friends. Nellie was a test to see how easily persuaded you could be, and I gotta say, Duchess, you fucking failed.”
Leaning up, I snatch one out while scowling at him and put it into my mouth. He watches in fascination as I light the tip and inhale. “I’ve made a lot of friends since you’ve been gone, Roy.” I inhale the cigarette before allowing the smoke to exit between my scarlet red lips. “So many.”
He blazes the tip and sucks in deeply while remaining passive on me. I watch as the smoke curls around his nose, up past his eyes and over his head. “Hmmm.”
“Hmm?” I cock my eyebrow. “That’s it?” My fingers flex in the palms of my hands. “No, ‘who the fuck are you talking to Jade’…”
Royce drags over the chair that’s tucked beneath an office desk, taking a seat and resting his elbows on his knees. “Told you, don’t give a fuck about you or that bullshit anymore. Do what you want, but don’t make waves that will have those same waters spilling into my clubhouse. For years, people thought I was an orphan, with no family. Now you’re in my city? You abide by my rules.”
“How tragic.” I drop the cigarette onto the carpet and squish it with the heel of my shoe. “You stole my life and I stole yours.”
“Stop testing my patience, Jade.”
I tilt my head. “Is there something that you know that I don’t? You come back into my life after four years.” I’m on my feet, walking around the room while touching pointless things. This isn’t his room. Well, it is, but he doesn’t live here. It’s too impersonal for it to be Royce’s full-time room.
“Duchess…” he mumbles my nickname, and my fingers momentarily pause over a stack of motorcycle magazines. “Dutch,” he repeats, and this time I spin to face him.
“Fucking what, Royce?”
He stands to his full height—six foot something—and takes the two steps he needed to reach me. His fingers flex around the tip of my chin, tilting my head up so that my eyes collide with his. “I’m not the same boy you knew before.” His touch is soft, yet his words harsh. “For one.” I hold my breath as his eyes search mine. So, so, blue. His tongue sneaks out and glides over his teeth. “I’m meaner.” He releases me, pushing me so hard that I fall back onto the bed. Before I can say anything else, he’s on top of me with his hand covering my mouth. Leather, cigarette, cologne. I can’t help it when the first tear sneaks out from the side of my eye, because he’s right. I don’t know who this man is staring down at me. The same vessel, different soul. The man standing in front of me right now haunts me with his resemblance of the boy I knew.