Gunnar A Motorcycle Club Romance - Nina Levine Page 0,88
fucking aware of that. But the way he said it makes me feel like there’s something else to it. Something I’m not fucking aware of.
Chelsea told me that her dad helped keep me out of prison in exchange for her marrying Joe. So what the fuck did he mean when he said I should know he has ways of keeping the club out of trouble?
“You coming?” Griff asks as he looks back at me when I don’t make a move to leave.
I shake my head and reach for my phone. “I’ve got something to do. I’ll see you back at the clubhouse later.”
They leave me and I send Chelsea a text.
Me: I need to see you. Now.
She takes a good five minutes to come back to me.
Chelsea: I can’t now. I’m busy.
Me: I’m outside the hotel. We need to talk.
Chelsea: Mason, I can’t.
Me: I don’t give a fuck what you need to do to get out here, but I need you to come out and talk to me. Don’t make me come inside.
The dots go up and down for a long time before her reply comes through.
Chelsea: You’re busting my fucking balls here. Give me five minutes.
Fuck, I love her fire.
She takes a good ten minutes to come out, but she does, and I struggle to take my eyes off her. She’s wearing a silver dress that is hell on a man’s ability to think straight. Since I need to fucking think straight for the conversation we’re about to have, I force my eyes back up to her face and keep them fucking there.
“What is so important that I just had to fake sickness to Joe for and risk his wrath for the rest of the night? And if you tell me it’s just because you want to get your hands on me, I swear to God, I will—”
“What else did you get in exchange for marrying that motherfucker?”
Her mouth snaps shut, all her words swallowed. I watch as her brows wrinkle, her forehead wrinkles, and her thoughts wrinkle. She’s trying to figure out how to get out of telling me the truth, but fuck if I’m allowing that tonight.
“You need to start talking, Mayfair, and you need to start fucking doing that now. And I swear to fucking God, if you don’t give me the truth, this will be it for us. I will walk the fuck away from you and never come back.”
Those beautiful blue eyes of her look at me so wide and so scared that I can’t help but feel the pull to her that is always there. She hasn’t told me she still loves me, but she did tell me she loves us enough not to ruin us, so as far as I’m concerned, that’s her telling me she loves me. But I don’t need to hear what I can plainly fucking see—Chelsea never stopped loving me, and I think she made a deal with the fucking devil for me. A deal she’s refused to tell me about, even when I’ve been hell-bent on shoving my hate in her face. And I want to fucking know what it was and why the fuck she made it.
Moving into me, she grips my T-shirt. “I got your safety. You know that.”
“What the fuck else, Chelsea? Tell. Me.”
Her eyes frantically search mine, and I just fucking know I’m not going to like what I hear when she finally gives me the truth. “Please don’t make me do this, Mason. Please.”
I’m on the edge here. Every muscle is straining while my heart beats so fucking loud I swear they could hear it in fucking Perth. “You’re doing this. You’re going to tell me and then I’m going to fucking take care of this shit like I fucking should have when it all started.”
Her face twists and she shakes her head. “No, you can’t. They will ruin you.” She grips my shirt harder. “I have a plan and am almost ready to—”
“Fuck, Chelsea, no. I’m not spending another fucking second watching you be with that motherfucker. I want him gone and I fucking want that now. Tell me what the fuck they’re holding over you to keep you married to him.”
“Mason, stop. No. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Baby, this is the first time I am fucking thinking straight since this mess all fucking started.” I take hold of her neck and pull her to me. “I should have fucking known you wouldn’t walk away from me willingly. I fucking hate that