A deep chuckle. “I definitely like these pajamas better.”
“Tracker,” I gasp, looking up into his handsome face.
“How are you doing beautiful?” he asks, dark eyes gazing into mine.
“I’ve been better,” I say honestly, forcing a smile. “I’m going to get some milk and go to bed.”
“Where’s Sin?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
I shrug nonchalantly. “With the guys, I guess.” Or sucking face with that hag.
Tracker scowls, then walks in front of me to the fridge. He pulls out the milk, tips some in a saucepan and puts it on the stove. He’s warming milk for me? I stare at him, covered in tattoos, dressed from head to toe in black, warming milk. A giggle escapes me.
“What’s so amusing?” he asks, turning to look at me.
I shrug, grinning. “Big bad biker, heating up milk for me. Thanks Tracker.”
He smiles and returns to the task at hand, pouring the heated milk into a mug and giving it to me. “You want to watch a movie with me?”
“I’d love to,” I whisper. He leads me down the hall, past my room, further into the back of the compound. Opening one of the doors, he leads me inside and sits me down on the bed.
“You sure you want to spend your night with me?” I ask him.
“What else would I be doing?” he asks as he puts the TV on.
“Engaging in hot public sex?”
He laughs. “No offence, but you’ve been here for what? A couple nights? I’m not saying that doesn’t happen here, because it does, but that’s not the only thing we’re about.”
“I don’t meant to be judgmental, but… I don’t know. I don’t think I could get used to seeing that.”
“Sin told everyone to be on their best behavior so don’t worry,” he says, coming to sit down next to me.
I sip my milk. “Want some?”
He laughs at me, looking amused.
I frown. “Does that mean you don’t want any milk?”
He takes it from me and takes a sip. When he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine, I don’t stop him. I don’t really have a reason to.
“Lie back and get some rest,” he says, turning his attention back to the TV. I do as I’m told, and a minute later I fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter Nine
I wake up in the middle of the night to yelling. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up, confused. Then I remember watching TV with Tracker. I put my phone light on and see Tracker fast asleep on his stomach. I really appreciate him looking after me, keeping me company when I was feeling like shit. I hear a loud crash and quickly touch Tracker on the shoulder.
“Tracker, something’s going on,” I say, shaking him lightly. He wakes with a start, rolling me under him.
“Faye?” he says, sounding confused. Another crash. He lifts his head up and then looks back down at me. “Stay here.”
I nod as he gets off the bed, grabs a gun from one of his drawers, and exits the room. A gun? More yelling and something else breaking. What the hell is going on here? I hear Tracker’s voice, shouting, and I heard my name being said. I stand up, turn on the light, then move into the corner of the room as I hear pounding steps. Then, the door opens with a bang. Dex stands there, fists clenched and expression set in anger. Tracker stands behind him, shooting Dex an unhappy look.
What on earth?
“What happened?” I ask, seeing Dex’s bruised knuckles.
“Get in my fuckin’ room right now, Faye,” he growls, his tone laced with fury. I look at Tracker, which makes Dex even angrier.
“Don’t look to him, he isn’t going to save you. Now!” he yells, taking a step towards me.
“Sin…” Tracker starts.
“Shut the fuck up brother,” Dex snaps at him, his eyes set solely on me. I walk out of the room, walking past and ignoring the two of them. I see smashed glass as I detour to the kitchen, everything broken and lying on the floor. I hurry to the room and get into bed. I’m too tired to deal with this drama right now. I check the time on my phone, three am. Dex storms back into the room, angry tension radiating from his body. I ignore him as he turns on the light and paces, until he stops right in front of me.
“I came back to the room, expecting to find you asleep. You weren’t here. What the fuck Faye?”
“Sorry, I fell asleep in Tracker’s room,” I say, yawning.
“You’re a selfish bitch, you know that? I thought maybe you left, tried to run again…”
“Fuck you! I’m not selfish! You’re selfish! I don’t know anyone here, and you left me alone all night, feeling miserable. You just got back to the room at three am? What did you expect me to do all night? Sit there and stare at the wall?” I yell back at him. I’m not taking his shit.
“So what? You decided to get into Tracker’s bed? You want a place here as one of the club whores?”
I stand up, take a step to him, and slap him right across the face. “Fuck. You!”
When the tears start to fall, I can’t contain them. They pour. His eyes soften a little, as he examines my features.
“Don’t cry,” he says hoarsely, a demand and a plea. I stare at his face, as a red handprint starts to appear on his cheek. I don’t feel any satisfaction over it.
“Tracker comforted me when I needed it. When you weren’t there to do it. I know we aren’t together, or anything like that, but you brought me here. I didn’t want to be here but here I am. It’s your job to look after me,” I tell him, my voice cracking at the end.
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right. I’ll try harder, but you aren’t sleeping in any bed but mine. Don’t try and put me against my brothers, Faye.”
How the hell do I have the power to do that? I wouldn’t do that even if I did.
“Look if you want to go sleep elsewhere, with whoever, then do it,” I tell him, acting like I don’t care.
Silence.
I close my eyes and attempt sleep when he says, “I was drinking with the guys. I wasn’t fuckin’ someone else.”
I see a flash of him and Allie in my mind, her rubbing herself against him.
“I’m going to sleep Dex, goodnight.”
“Night,” he whispers.
He heads for a shower, and I fall back asleep.
*****
The next morning, I wake up cocooned in Dex’s arms. I slowly get out of bed, untangling myself from him, and head into the kitchen. I find a broom and start to sweep up all the glass. It isn’t really fair for one of the other women to have to do it. When everything is cleaned up I make myself two slices of toast with butter and vegemite, then I head into the bathroom to have a shower. Dex wakes up as I’m sitting on the bed in my towel, rubbing my lotion into my skin.
“So that’s why you smell like cherry,” he says, his voice thick with sleep. His face is turned towards me, half buried into the pillow.
“Morning,” I say quietly.
“I fucked up last night,” he admits, nibbling on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry babe.”
“Why did you smash all that shit?” I ask.
“I came into the room, and you weren’t here,” is all he says.
“Yeah, and?”
He hides his face into the pillow. “I lost my temper,” he says, words muffled.
“Yeah, I got that.”
He sits up, the sheet falling and showing off his muscled chest and abs. Fuck—those abs. Perfectly sculptured and ripped. Yum.
“You like what you see?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.
“You know I do,” I reply, pointing to my stomach. He laughs and slides closer to me, resting his head on my lap. When he kisses my stomach, my breath hitches.
“I think it’s a boy,” he announces, his eyes alight with pride.
“Why do you think that?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Someone once told me that when a woman is pregnant with a girl, her beauty fades slightly. That sure as hell isn’t happening to you.”
Wow. Did he just say that?
“So what does a boy do then?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“A boy takes your energy,” he says.
“Definitely a boy, then,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “We should call him Sirius.”
He makes a face. “Why would we do that?”