“Someone I wouldn’t be surprised to see in your bed,” I smirk. “Fake red hair, fake boobs, high heels that could stab a man.”
I hear Alexander snicker. “She’s got the red hair right.”
“What do you suggest then? Wewait?” Rawlings questions.
No, I don’t want to wait, but at this point, I’m getting desperate. An idea pops into my head; it’s risky but it might work. “Anyone up for a masquerade?”
You could hear a pin drop, and the looks on their faces tell me they have no idea where this is going. For once, I have a leg up in this partnership. “Every year, the Foundation hosts a masquerade and silent auction to raise money for our projects. Get people drunk enough and they’ll write big checks. This year, I got roped into hosting.”
Rawlings takes a moment to connect the dots. I watch as his eye light up with understanding “You might be onto something. We could take him out of the equation. You, my dear, will have an alibi so you would be in the clear. Everything else we can plan on our own.”
“You do realize there’s a buy-in and it’s black tie attire?” I cock my head at him. Maybe I’m not giving the club enough credit, but they’re more of a rough and tumble group of men.
“It’s adorable you think we won’t be able to blend in. Just do what we need you to do, and we’ll take care of the rest,” Rawlings laughs. I glance over at Alexander, and part of me wonders what this man looks like in a tuxedo. Chills run down my spine.
I nod. “Perfect. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to enjoy the rest of my weekend.” I wink at Alexander.
Rawlings holds up a hand. “Hold on Bjorn. Walk with me.” Something drops in the pit of my stomach. I look at Alexander and he shrugs. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous.
Rawlings is even more of a giant than Alexander. The scruff and the salt and pepper hair, plus the sun kissed skin – I’m starting to wonder how old he really is. He holds the door for me, waiting for me to step out back near the patio. I hold my head high, trying not to show any fear. Once outside, he pulls out a chair for me to sit, and I oblige him.
“Is this the part where I’m warned again that if I’m not working with you, I’m working against you?” The nervousness sounds in my voice.
He just laughs, crossing his legs and leaning back. “No, my dear. I wanted to offer you an apology.”
“Is Hell even more on fire?” Where is Alexander to shut me up when I need him?
Surprisingly, Rawlings just laughs again. “I didn’t put the best foot forward with you. I acted out of what I perceived to be best for the club, for Jackson. That boy has been through a lot, and maybe I should have seen the signs. At my age, you tend to ignore them.” Rawlings is rambling, clearly unsure of what he is trying to apologize for.
“The club has been through war, and even if most of my men know you, we can’t be too quick. I’ll admit, I thought that by putting Jackson onto you, we put our objective front and center. All this to say, he was following orders, something he’s used to doing. If you’re going to continue to place anger on someone, it should be on me. You seem like a good kid, with a good heart. You definitely have a hold on the big man in there.”
Hearing Rawlings say this both stuns me and makes me emphasize a bit with him. The club has a way of life and order, and whether I truly believe in it or not, I have to respect that.
I reach out and pat his hand. “Don’t go soft on me, old man. But I appreciate it.”
Rawlings apparently isn’t done. “I don’t think you have real a grasp on our world, Tessa. Women don’t usually have a say. We have an order to things. We’re not saints, but we run the club in a way that protects all of us,” Rawlings growls out, the sweet demeanor suddenly disappearing.
I’m shocked at his tone. “I’m not asking for you to give me a spot in your club. I’m just saying that maybe I have more to offer than a pretty face. Have more faith in women; we’re not all devils.” I don’t give him time to respond as I get up and place my hand on his shoulder to leave. He holds on to it.
“You realize the power of him claiming you as his, right?” Rawlings bites out.
I pause, looking down at his dark brown eyes, noticing the scar above his eye. “I haven’t given much thought to it,” I admit sheepishly.
Apparently, Rawlings is about to explain. “When a member claims someone, whoever it is, it’s like a shield of protection. Someone threatens you, they threaten the club. What you do reflects on the club. You may not wear the patch, but it’s branded into your soul and perhaps one day, your skin. We protect our own. That extends to you as well. It’s sacred.”
His words ring in my ears. Alexander called me his, laying claim, giving me more protection than I realized. It was never meant to be about property or lowering myself to him, but something he can offer me without hesitation.
Rawlings gives one last notion. “Please don’t hurt him again.”
I give a subtle nod and head back in, as Rawlings looks for a cigarette and eases back even more into the chair.
Alexander stops me before I gather my things to leave. He grabs my arms to pull me into an embrace. “Do I want to know what that was about?” he questions, nestling my head into his neck.
I snort. “Um, I think I got the “if you hurt my child” talk.” He jerks back, tilting his face down to meet my eyes. I lift to my toes and kiss him on the cheek. “Now, either take me home and fuck me, or stay here to play nice with your club,” I whisper in his ear.
He peers down at me with a hungry look in his eyes. I keep the silence going; all I know is that I want to devour this man. I float to the door, giving him a moment to think about his choice.
A roar of laughter soars through the room as Alexander bursts through the door, a man ready to eat.