Unfortunately for me, it was still early in the night, so when I pulled up to the front of my dorm with three members of The Exiled Eight MC behind me, there were a million pairs of eyes at their windows.
I groaned as I climbed out of the driver’s seat, the introvert inside me suddenly wanting to crawl under a rock and hide, pretend none of this was happening. I fought that feeling, reminding myself this man could be the other half of my DNA, and if nothing else, at least I would have that.
“Can we get this done?” Braid man asked. He looked almost nervous, or uncomfortable as the three men approached. “We have places to be.” His attitude was bad, and the creepy way he watched me made me feel uneasy. Like he was imagining ways in his head to off me and hide the body where no one would find it.
A breeze swept by me, and I shuddered, whether it was the cold air or the feeling of his eyes on me, I still wasn’t sure.
“Brew,” Huntsman hissed. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
Braid man—or Brew as I now knew his name—glared at the club president in a way I wouldn’t like anyone to ever look at me, but kept his mouth shut. I led them forward to the double doors which lead to Dakota’s and my dorm room.
The few students who were floating around in the hallways took one look at the men behind me and ducked inside their rooms, doors slamming closed behind them. I could hear whispers and not so subtle comments. Some students nervous and others strangely excited.
This was a bad idea.
I’d come to U of A with a fresh start. No one knew me. No one here had heard the rumors that Nick spread around school about me. I was finally in a place where people weren’t whispering and giggling or pointing and laughing in the hallways.
I was constantly paranoid about what people were saying about me, or what rumor Nick was going to make up next to make me look like some crazy bitch or a total slut. I’d finally left that behind, and now, it was about to start all over again. All it would take was one of these people to start something. Maybe say I had three bikers in my bedroom and wham—the looks, the whispers, the judgments.
We finally reached my doorway, and I ducked inside, tapping my foot impatiently as the three bikers followed. Slamming the door shut, I jogged over to my side table where I had the picture tucked away between the pages of my favorite book—Alice in Wonderland.
Pulling out the book, I held it tightly in my hands as I turned around to face them. “Here,” I said, whipping the photo out and holding it up in the air.
Huntsman stepped forward and plucked it from between my fingers.
Brew for once wasn’t interested, making himself at home in mine and Dakota’s room and heading for my dresser which was covered in photos and knickknacks. The way he studied the pieces of my life somehow made me feel almost violated.
“Do you have to be so nosey?” I fired in annoyance at this man who I couldn’t quite figure out.
His eyes flashed, and suddenly, he was coming at me.
Instinctively, I reached back into the drawer where I could see my gun, drawing it to a perfect position with the end just six inches from the center of Brew’s chest. He froze, his eyes widening but staying focused on me.
“That was a stupid move, little girl,” he growled, the top lip of his curling and his fists clenching at his side.
Huntsman stepped closer as did the younger club member who still had yet to speak. I could see them in my peripheral vision, but I didn’t dare move my gaze from the man in front of me.
“It would only be stupid if I was a bad shot,” I replied, my finger gently brushing against the trigger. “Bit of information for you… I’m a really good shot.”
Hadley always told me, never to put your finger on the trigger of the gun unless you intend to shoot it. In this case, I was fully willing to fire if he came any fucking closer, knowing I had a good chance of hitting all three of them before they could get to me as long as I kept the distance between us.
“You came at me,” I stated, hoping Huntsman was listening closely, and wouldn’t think I was being some dumb bitch and waving a gun around for no reason. “I know what a man looks like when he’s gonna throw a punch. I’m just letting you know what a bad idea that would be if you ever get that feeling again… in the future.”
“You little who—”
“Enough,” Huntsman growled, taking another step forward. “Put the gun down, girl.”
“I’ll put it down if you tell your lackey here to take a step back,” I reasoned, trying not to let it show I was actually trembling, and this tough talk I’d somehow managed was a huge damn act.
My eyes never moved off Brew, but I heard Huntsman snort as if he found my words funny. “Brew, stand down. Leave the girl alone.”
I could practically feel the waves of anger rolling off him as he took three small steps backward. He wanted to kill me. It was a frightening realization that I was standing just a few feet from a man who would have no problem ending my life and burying me in a shallow grave to decompose.
It was a feeling I’d never really experienced before.
I’d been around men like my uncle and his brothers, who I had no doubt had taken a fair amount of lives in their time, but I was protected there. There had been moments where I’d felt scared, but I’d never felt it could be the end.
This feeling was very real, very scary, and awfully fucking confronting.