Hold Me Down by Slade Shari

Author:Slade, Shari
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: MC, Romance, Fiction
Publisher: Shari Slade
Published: 2016-11-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Noah leads me through the club with his hand on the small of my back, possessive but mechanical. I don’t dare question him in front of anyone before the vote, but I hate every second of it. I hate that his touch is cold and his jaw is tight. I hate that I can’t feel his eyes on me. I hate that this could be the last time I see him.

He drops me in his room back at the club.

“Have a seat.” He nudges me toward the bed.

“I…” I’m not sure what I want to say. That I’m sad and angry and scared? That I hate the way his face is a grim mask? That I want him to yell or cuss or do any fucking thing except freeze me out?

He stares at the wall behind me.

“If anyone wants to hear from you during the meeting, a prospect will come and get you like before.”

“Anyone? What about you, Noah? Do you want to hear what I have to say?” I seethe through gritted teeth. For the first time in this whole ordeal, I feel like actual luggage. Empty. Property. I watch the muscles in his jaw flex. The slight narrowing of his eyes. He doesn’t answer though. The fucker.

“What happens to me if they decide to kill you?”

“Such faith in me.” He snarls. “If I’m dead it won’t be my problem, will it?”

All the sweet words he’d spoken crash like glass around me. “But—”

“But nothing. You know exactly what’ll happen. You’re a sweet piece of ass. Someone’ll take you.” He spits. “And you’re just a scared little girl so you’ll be happy to be kept.”

The door shuts with a quiet, definitive click.

“At least slam it, asshole,” I shout, balling my fists in the bedspread. Wrapping it around me like armor against Noah’s cold disregard, against my memory of gruff bikers crowded around a table deciding his fate.

His fate is supposed to belong to me.

I press my face into the sheets and inhale deeply. Our scents are mingled there—our bodies, the musk of our sex. Sweat, come, tears. It should be disgusting, but it isn’t. It’s…us.

I should’ve told him I loved him when I had the chance. When his fingers were inside me and we were laughing and dreaming. Before the club got between us. Again. Because this cold, asshole version of Noah, the one who can’t seem to muster enough passion to slam the damn door? That bastard is never hearing those three little words cross my lips.

I just hope he lives long enough for me to inform him of this development. But I’m sure as hell not sitting here in the corner like a toddler on the naughty bench, waiting around to find out.

Ella’s keys are still on top of Noah’s dresser. Her car is still parked out front. I could just…return her car. I did promise to get it back to her. At least it’s something useful. And bonus points if Noah worries about me a little while I’m gone.

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