Reaper: Devil's Rose MC #1

Chapter 6: Madoc Steele

It's been two days, three hours, twenty-seven minutes, and forty-two seconds since she left. And I have no idea what to do with myself. I tried to go to the other chapter, but I could barely concentrate knowing that Fiona was not going to be in my home when I got back. 

Alpha eventually had to call me back home since I wasn't making any progress with the prospects. I can't stop thinking about waking up to a cup of coffee and finding the sleeping woman on the couch. 

I haven't had a woman in my home ever, besides my mother who rarely comes to visit and maybe the occasional one-night hook up. I usually kicked them out straight afterward though, both my mother and one-night stands alike. 

With Fiona however, she looked so beautiful, so peaceful, I instantly wondered what it would be like to wake in the same bed as her. I mean, yeah, her hair was a mess, her face still had marks of dirt, and the bandage on her foot wasn't doing her any favors, but she was gorgeous.

And now, I haven't any idea where she is. She could be hurt, lost, starving, dying of thirst. She could be in a dangerous neighborhood or with a dangerous person. All because of me and my inability to believe that anyone would ever want to be around me. 

Both my parents and siblings were an incredibly strong presence in my life, sometimes for worse than better. When my father passed away about four years ago, everyone sort of pulled away from me like it was my fault. That my association with the Devil's Rose MC had everything to do with the fact that he died of a heart attack. 

I'm sure that he worried about me, but not enough to cause him a heart attack. Years of butter, salt, and grease did that to him. I was only the loner son - in my family's views - that decided to join a motorcycle club instead of the family business. 

As much as they tell me that they want me around more, I know that they don't mind my absence. As much as they were the white picket fence family - a golden retriever named Abby and everything - I knew I couldn't pretend that that's who I wanted to be.

Ever since I was a child, I had an obsession with motorcycles. Reading about them, building small plastic and metal models, pretending I was driving one around the long hallways of my childhood home. 

My sister Jasmine, when I was eight and she was ten, used to tell me that I would be an amazing dirt biker. And so I tried. For about five years of my life, I tried to fill my unhealthy motorcycle love with a dirt bike, but it didn't work. 

And so the minute I could flee the stereotypical home of my childhood, I was gone. I was eighteen, hoping to be free from everything, but that wasn't realistic. When I got too broke to live healthily, I joined the military. 

After rising through the ranks for four years, I decided to become a Navy Seal. It took a lot of training, much more than I ever thought possible for one human being, but I did it. I spent four years doing that before being honorably discharged due to an arm injury that would put me out of the field.

When I was feeling the most alone at age twenty-six, I found Alpha. He took me under his wing as I became a prospect, and even though he hassled me, I knew he cared for me. The Devil's Rose MC was...is...my home. 

But when Fiona showed up in my apartment, I had no idea that my life was about to change another time. I can't get her face and voice out of my head. I can't get her out of my thoughts. 

She's fucking planted herself - with those long brown strands of her hair, those deep blue eyes, pink, pouty lips, and light olive skin - inside of my every move. And I scared her away. I told her I wanted her to leave. Why am I such a motherfucking idiot sometimes? 

I don't care about killing someone or my negative reputation or the way people move away from me when I enter a room, but I can't stop caring about her. And even though maybe I should be, I'm not at all annoyed by it.

"Sitting there and thinking about her isn't going to find her."

I grunt in displeasure as Bullet and Vegas come and sit by me.

"She doesn't want to be found."

"How do you know that?"

"She has Alpha's number."

"I don't think he's the one she wants to talk to."

"Would y'all stop harassing me about it?"

"What?! You're taken with the girl, even after only a couple of hours. It's our job to harass you about it."

I don't think Bullet realizes how much I sometimes want to slap him across the face. I'm sitting here bitter with a glass of vodka and Coke from Whiskey, one of the top club bartenders, and he's teasing me about the girl that I'm bitter about. 

I don't understand why thinks that such a good idea, especially when he is supposedly still afraid of me. Doesn't he know that I would never hurt anyone in the club or anyone innocent outside of it? I adjust my cut in hopes to release some of my tension and get myself in check, which works for a quick moment before I feel a hand come and touch my arm. 

My hand juts out, instantly wrapping itself around the thin neck of some unknown woman. Bullet and Vegas curse behind me but know it would be dangerous to get in the way of me at this point. Okay, so maybe I hurt more people than I accounted for.

"Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry, sir."

Her voice comes out strained, no doubt because of my chokehold, and I quickly let her go so as to not hurt her more or kill her.

"Jesus, Fiona said you wouldn't hurt me."

The unknown woman rubs her neck, tears gathering in her eyes. Whiskey comes over, flicking his eyes up and down the woman, and handing her a plastic bag full of ice cubes to help her neck. They smile at one another, and I flinch in jealousy.

"You said Fiona?"

"Yes, I said Fiona. My name's Beatrice. I've known her for years."

"Why are you here?"

"She doesn't exactly know I'm here."

"Then how did you know I wouldn't hurt you? Where to find us?"

"You're pretty much all she talks about nowadays."

"Is she hurt? How's her foot? Is she okay?"

"Physically, no, she's not hurt. Her foot is fine. But emotionally and mentally, she's not in a good place. And apparently, you have changed her life so I'm hoping you could do it again."

"Changed her life?"

"I don't even fucking know, okay? I don't know you or anyone here. I just need someone to help me! She won't stop."

"Won't stop what?"

"Torturing herself. I need you to go help her. She wants you."

"Tell me where she is."

Beatrice slips her hand into her pocket and slides Alpha's business card across the table.

"The address is on the back."

She huffs, sitting on one of the bar stools. Whiskey immediately comes over with a cosmo in hand, to which she smiles up at him once again. They chat briefly about her rough travels and if she's thinking about spending nights here when I go and save Fiona. 

I don't think I'm exactly saving her, maybe helping her out a bit. I'm no hero. I down the rest of the vodka and Coke and stand to tell Alpha where I am going. Poison and maybe even Vegas might want to join me too. They are taken with her in a different way than I. 

They see her as a sister, as someone to protect, as someone to care for. I see myself being in love with her, having her as my Old Lady, and I'm not gonna lie, fucking her into oblivion. Caring, protecting, and possessiveness will just be the cherry on top.