Surviving Storm (Kings Reapers MC Book 7) Read online

  “You’ve been gone all day, and now you’re going again. You won’t tell me what happened. Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Sometimes club business is between the brothers. This is one of those times,” I explain.

  “I think you’re leaving me to go and drink,” she mutters, and I twist around to face her.

  “I swear, I’m not. On Seb’s life. I have a job on for Riggs. Ask him yourself.”

  “He’ll lie for you,” she says, and she’s right, he would, but in this case, I’m not lying to her.

  “They arrested me for breaking the injunction Laura took out on me,” I finally say, telling her half the truth. “My solicitor got me released on bail. I have to report to the station every day at ten in the morning while they are investigating, but it’s pretty obvious she came to see me. She even took the train, so there’s proof. I’ll deal with it.” I kiss her until she melts against me. “Now, I have to go before Blu comes looking for me.”

  We arrive in Nottingham in the early hours of the morning and head straight for the clubhouse. The President of the Nottingham Charter is expecting us, so when I walk in to find him waiting for us, I’m not surprised. “Pres, this is Blu,” I introduce as he shakes our hands.

  “Good to meet yah,” says Deano.

  “You talk to the brothers?” I ask, and he nods. “And?” I push.

  “And there were no witnesses. We burned everything, including the body. There ain’t no way they have anything to pin this shit on you or anyone else in this club,” he snaps. “I told you that bitch was poison, and now she’s coming for us!”

  “We gotta get our story straight,” I say, ignoring his outburst.

  “I’ll give you the alibi. It goes without saying. That night, we had a huge party to announce one of the brothers taking an ol’ lady,” he says.

  “Which brother? And who’s to say I didn’t sneak out? It’s gotta be solid,” I say.

  “Right, well, can’t we use your current ol’ lady?” suggests Deano, but I shake my head.

  “Nah, I don’t want her involved.”

  “There’s always Raven,” says Blu. “She’s good at this stuff. She’ll hold her own with the cops, and it ain’t the first time she’s stepped up to help a brother.”

  “That could work,” I say.

  “You met her a few months back at a club get-together and you stayed in touch and hit it off,” Blu suggests.

  I nod. “But what about the whole stalker thing? Will they believe it when Laura was accusing me of stalking her?”

  “Who gives a fuck. It only implies you’re innocent of that. It’s a good, strong alibi. We’ll get the brothers on side and make it watertight,” says Blu. Damn Laura and her stupid punk ass brother. I’m beginning to regret ever meeting them.

  Chapter Eleven

  LOTTIE

  “He was supposed to report to the police station at ten,” I snap, and Riggs rubs his forehead warily. “Just tell me where he went.”

  “Anna!” he yells, and she appears in his office doorway. “Get her the fuck outta here before I do something stupid and piss off Lake and Storm.”

  “Come on, Lottie,” says Anna gently. “He’ll be back soon.”

  I roll my eyes, stomping out of the office and crashing into a solid chest. Storm’s arms circle my waist, and I sag against him with relief. “Thank fuck for that,” snaps Riggs. “She was driving me crazy.”

  “Where were you?” I demand. “I was worried.”

  Storm looks mildly pissed and pulls me to one side. “Butterfly, you can’t be going around harassing the Pres. I told you I was on a job. Sometimes these jobs can take days, so you gotta get used to that.”

  “You said you had to report to the police at ten.” I look at my watch. “It’s eleven. I was worried you’d miss it.”

  “I’m an adult. I took myself there at ten.” He narrows his eyes. “Have you hurt yourself?” he hisses, gripping my blood-soaked bandage. I shake my head as he pulls the bandage away.

  “It was old wounds,” I say quickly. “Not new ones.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he yells, dragging me towards the stairs. “I told you to stay calm. To wait for me. You don’t have to do that shit anymore.”

  “It’s not that easy,” I protest, feeling the sting of tears as he shoves me into my bedroom. He goes to my drawers, and I watch in horror as he pulls them open one by one and rummages through them.

  He finds my tin and holds it up. “It’s very easy. Get rid of this.” I try to take it from him, but he holds it above his head, making it impossible. He grips my chin hard and glares at me. “No more,” he hisses. “No fucking more.”

  I watch him leave, slamming the door hard enough to shake the windows. Taking my tin was like unplugging my life support—I can’t cope knowing it isn’t there, and I feel my heartbeat thumping in my chest.

  Leia rushes in. “Are you okay?” she asks. I shake my head, unable to find the words. “Did he hurt you?” I shake my head again, at least not physically.

  “You know what you need? Some girl time,” she suggests, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I don’t think Leia was exactly right about the girl time thing. It’s great they want to be there for me, and for the first time since arriving here, I feel part of their circle. But right now, all I want to do is curl up in bed and forget about today. “You get used to it,” says Anna softly, keeping her voice low enough for only me to hear. “His moods and stuff,” she adds. “They’re all like that—one minute they’re treating you like a queen, and the next, they’re growling at you like some rabid beast. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes that’s sexy as fuck, but it’s also pretty full-on.”

  “He’s pissed at me,” I mutter.

  “You wouldn’t know,” she says sarcastically, adding a grin. “You’re here all sad and shit, and he’s over there brooding.”

  I glance over to where Storm sits with Cree and Lake. “When I first came here, Lake told me if I had any problems, I should go to you cos you’re like the head of the women around here.”

  Anna scoffs. “I am not. Frankie owns that title, but she’s as hot-headed as the guys, so if you want level-headed responses, I guess I’m the woman for you.”

  “I have some . . . issues.”

  “Don’t we all,” she mutters. “Talking can help.” I look down at my covered arms, trying to find the right words. “Is it to do with the scars?” she asks. “I’ve seen them, when your sleeves have risen up.”

  I nod, staring down at my hands. “That’s why he’s mad.”

  “He just found out?” she asks, and I shake my head. “So, if he knew, why is he mad now?”

  “Because I can’t stop.”

  “Have you tried getting help?”

  “Yeah, but nothing helps. I’ve been doing this so long, it’s hard to explain why I do it. And when I see the mental health nurse, it’s never the same one, and I hate explaining the same shit over again. They tell me they’ll help and then refer me on.” I sigh heavily. “Sorry, you don’t wanna hear all this.”

  Anna gently places her hand on my arm. “Lottie, I do. I’m so glad you told me, and now you have me to come to when you need to talk. But let me have a think about it. Maybe I can find someone to help. Riggs has all kinds of connections.”

  “I don’t want everyone to know,” I say, tugging at my sleeves subconsciously.

  “I won’t tell him the details. But Lottie, you’re a part of our family, and we’re all here to help you.”

  I smile gratefully. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

  Storm stops by our table. “I’m tired,” he mutters, keeping his eyes downcast.

  “Goodnight,” I mutter.

  “Let’s go,” he adds, holding his hand out for me to take. A flutter in my stomach brings a small smile to my face as I place my hand in his, and he leads me to his room. “What were you and Anna talking about?” he asks once we’re in the bedroom.

 
“She was offering support,” I say.

  Storm begins to undress me. “Support for?”

  “Ol’ lady shit,” I say.

  He smirks, removing my shirt and throwing it over a chair. He takes my bandaged arm and stares at it for a few seconds. “Why’d yah do that today?”

  I pull my arm free and unfasten my jeans, shoving them down my legs and stepping out of them. “I don’t wanna fight again, Storm. Let’s just go to bed.”

  “If we don’t talk about it, I can’t fix it and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Talk,” I repeat, rolling my eyes. “You didn’t wanna talk earlier when I was asking the questions.”

  “That’s different. I can’t tell you about club business. I look after that and tell you what you need to know. I also have a responsibility towards you, to make sure you’re okay, and today, you weren’t. How do I fix that when you won’t tell me what upset you?”

  “Nothing upset me. Sometimes I just do it,” I snap, throwing my arms in the air. “It’s a release.”

  “I don’t want you to do it anymore, Lottie. I don’t want you marking that perfect skin.”

  “Will it make you want me less?” I snap, and he growls. “It’s just something I do. Deal with it.”

  “Woman, you ain’t gotta sass me like that. It’s waking up the monster in me. I will love you whatever you do to yourself, but I’m asking . . . no, I’m begging for you to stop.”

  We fall silent as his words sink in. “Love,” I whisper. “You said love.”

  “It surprises me too. I don’t say that word lightly, Lottie, but fuck, I think I’ve fallen in love with your crazy arse. And I know it’s not been long, maybe not long enough for people to understand it, but I can’t help the way I feel. You hurting yourself like that is killing me. I don’t wanna see blood on your skin or any more scars. Not because it’ll make me love you any less, but because I can’t stand my butterfly hurting so bad she’s gotta do that shit. We’re a fresh start.”

  “I need the tin,” I mutter.

  “Fuck, Lottie—” he begins, but I cut in.

  “Not because I want to do it, but because it makes me feel safe having it around. It’s in my head, I know that, but I feel better knowing it’s there. The nurse told me to keep clean sharps, so if you take that tin and I break, I’ll use anything and that’s not good.”

  “The nurse told you to keep a tin of sharps?” he snaps, and I nod.

  “They don’t tell you not to do it. They try and help you find ways to cope so you don’t turn to cutting, but so far, those things haven’t worked.”

  “I want us to go and see someone,” he says. “Doctor Chapman works with the club. Some of the guys see her. She’s supposed to be good at listening. I thought we could give it a try.” He unfastens my bra and adds it to the pile. “I need you naked tonight,” he explains when I raise my eyebrow. “Will you come with me to see her?” he asks. I nod, because how can I say no when he’s distracting me with his hands?

  STORM

  I lay awake thinking back to that night. It was a simple job—take out the little shit who had stolen a hundred grand worth of crack cocaine. I’d never met the fucker before, just some street rat wanting to make it big in the criminal world. He’d failed at the first hurdle by screwing over the Kings Reapers. It took Deano less than a day to pinpoint Steven Aspling as the culprit. He’d been working as a security guard at the docks and knew our shipments came in regularly. He’d joined up with a small-time gang on the promise they’d make some big money once he’d shifted the gear. They killed two of our guys and took the shipment, so when Deano gave three of us Steven’s name and address, it was a straightforward job.

  Meeting Laura, Steven’s sister, was pure chance. She came to us looking for him because someone had tipped her off that he wanted to be a part of our club. She was a distraction for me, and my brothers had all joked at the time that she was out of my league. I wanted to prove them wrong. Turns out, she was really great at distracting me. But now, the stupid bitch has gone all detective and told the cops I’m responsible for her missing brother.

  I gently move some stray hair from Lottie’s sleeping face. I meant it when I said I love her. I’ve only ever said those words and meant them to one other person, but between us, we’re fucked up so bad, even I’m worried it’ll ruin us. I need her well in case this all turns to shit and I end up inside for murder. I’m pinning all my hopes on the doctor tomorrow. Cree reckons there ain’t no one she can’t fix.

  “What sort of things will she ask us?”

  I take Lottie’s hand. “I don’t know, butterfly. We just gotta be honest.”

  I look around the doctor’s office. It’s a good likeness to the sort of shrink’s office you see in films. The door opens and a female walks in. She’s hot—Cree never mentioned that part—though not as hot as my ol’ lady, of course. She shakes our hands, smiling kindly before taking a seat.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she says, pulling out a notepad. “I had a telephone crisis. How are you both?”

  “Good,” I say.

  “I’m Eleanor Chapman. You’re Jaxon Michaels and Charlotte Murphy?” she asks, and I nod. “So, what brings you both here today?”

  “We wanna be together,” I begin, “but we have issues to work through.”

  “And you need help to sort those out?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Charlotte, why don’t we start with you?”

  “I’d rather we didn’t,” mutters Lottie, squeezing my hand.

  “I drink,” I say, taking the doctor’s attention away from Lottie. “Not all the time, but when I feel like I can’t cope, I take myself off and I drink. I can be gone for days.” The doctor scribbles something down on her notepad. “And Lottie, she cuts herself,” I add.

  The doctor’s eyes roam over Lottie and land on where she’s holding her sleeves over her hands. “Okay. That’s a good place to start. Have either of you ever sought help before?”

  “No,” I say. “I don’t see it as a problem.” I pause. “I mean, I do, but I don’t let it affect anyone around me, so I don’t see it as a big issue. I’m here more for Lottie.”

  “How do you feel about Jaxon drinking, Charlotte?” she asks gently.

  “He hasn’t done it a lot since we’ve been together. His sister worries.”

  I turn to Lottie. “You spoke to Taya?” I ask. She nods, and I frown. She hadn’t mentioned that. “Why?”

  “She wanted to talk to me,” says Lottie, shrugging her shoulders.

  “About?” I push.

  “About me and you,” she says impatiently. “Can we just get this over and done with?”

  “You don’t want to be here, Charlotte?” asks the doctor. Lottie shakes her head.

  “You didn’t tell me you didn’t wanna come here,” I say.

  “Why did you come,” asks the doctor, “if you didn’t want to be here?”

  “I want things to work with Storm. He gets angry when I cut myself.”

  “Do you think you have a problem?”

  “It makes me feel better. Sometimes I feel guilty afterwards, but that’s because I know he’ll be upset.”

  “When he gets upset with you, how does that make you feel?”

  “Like crap,” mutters Lottie. “I hate people being mad at me. I hate to disappoint.”

  Doctor Chapman scribbles more notes. “Overall, are you happy together?”

  “Yes,” we both reply at the same time and smile at each other.

  “It can be hard to have a relationship when you’re both battling your own demons. Sometimes these sessions run better one on one. I’d want to go through your past, dig up old skeletons to find out why these behaviours are present. That can be hard for the other person to listen to.”

  “We’re doing this together,” I say firmly.

  “Charlotte?” the doctor asks.

  “I don’t want any secrets,” Lottie quietly answers.

&nb
sp; “Okay. Let’s start with you,” she says, looking at me. “When did you start to drink?

  Chapter Twelve

  LOTTIE

  I replay the information I’ve just learned about Storm over in my head. Hearing how much he loved Seb’s mum was heart-warming. His face filled with love whenever he mentioned her and losing her so quickly to cancer sounded brutal for all of them. I see why he lost his head for a while after her death. The doctor made him see that his relationship with alcohol isn’t healthy. She’s given him some coping strategies to try before our next meeting in a week’s time. Then it’ll be my turn to talk, and that fills me with dread.

  “What did Taya say to you?” he asks. I knew he’d not let it go once I’d let it slip.

  “Just girl stuff,” I say.

  “Butterfly,” he says, his tone warning, “I don’t have time for games.” It’s almost ten and he needs to be at the police station to check in.

  “I’ll come with you,” I say, but he shakes his head. “Come on, you’ll be late if you don’t go directly there, and I know you won’t let me walk home alone.”

  “Damn straight,” he utters, handing me my bike helmet.

  “Let me come. Please.”

  He relents, which surprises me, and we head in the direction of the police station. We get as far as the door before he turns to me. “Wait here.” I agree, letting him go in ahead of me before following without him noticing.

  “How can I help?” asks the desk sergeant.

  “Jaxon Michaels answering to bail,” says Storm.

  The officer types away on his computer. “For the charges of?” he asks.

  “The disappearance of Steven Aspling.”

  An audible gasp leaves my mouth, and Storm’s head whips around to me. “You never told me that,” I snap. “You never said that.”

  I rush out, taking the steps two at a time. He has to sign the bail paperwork and can’t chase me, so I get a good head start. When I get into the park, I slow down. I drop down on a patch of grass knowing he won’t find me here because it’s too busy. Disappearance in club terms means murder, but he told me it was because of Laura. Murder means a long time in prison if he’s charged. My phone rings, and I stare at his name but don’t answer. It’s followed by a text message.