Holding Onto Hope Read online

  “Twenty minutes and then I want you back behind the bar.” I slap him on the back before picking up the drinks and heading back to the round, oak table where I’d left Hope at.

  She doesn’t look up when I approach but she almost falls off her chair in fright when I place the glasses on the table. “Shit.”

  “Hope, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, staring wide eyed at her doe-eyed look.

  “It’s okay, I was lost in my own head. That happens a lot.” She smiles up at me. “Please sit down, I’m not fond of people towering over me. It makes me feel so uncomfortable.” I notice her scratch her elbow. Anxious reaction? I’m guessing so.

  I take a seat in the wooden chair opposite her and take a sip of my drink. I look around the room at all the brothers mingling, bantering and generally just fucking around. “Look, Hope, he should have been booted out of this club a long time ago. I’m so fucking sorry that I’ve already broken my promise to keep you safe while you’re in my care. I honestly thought Amo would stick with you the whole time.” I blow out a breath and tap a few fingers on the table top, looking at Hope’s faraway look.

  Minutes of silence, between us at least, as the brothers aren’t exactly the quietest of people, and a long, squeaky sigh escapes from her mouth. “It’s not your fault, Mack. He was over-friendly that was all. It’s to be expected from this lifestyle, right?”

  “No. You’re wrong. We’re not like that at all. I promise you, none of my men are usually like that. Actually, I swear it to you.” Grimacing, I open up and explain about Smoke. “This isn’t the first time Smoke has done this.”

  Hope’s eyes flare with anger. “Why the fuck was he still here then? Are you crazy?” She’s practically out of her chair and her cheeks are dangerously red. “How many more times would he do this before he was thrown out? Every club I know would never let this happen to a woman!”

  “Sit your ass down, woman.” I throw her a glare and notice the knuckles of both hands are white with her death grip on the table. “Now, Hope. I won’t tell you again.”

  Her arse sits heavily down on the chair and she crosses are arms across her ample chest, her eyes narrowed to slits as she stares at me; through me. “Happy?”

  “Very.” I smirk. Does she really have to act like a brat? Is it really necessary? “Sarcasm doesn’t flatter you, so cut the bullshit.” Seeing that she’s not going to say anything, I continue with what I was previously saying about Smoke. “Smoke is an original member, the only one left. I didn’t feel comfortable just throwing an old man like him on the streets. At his age? Come on, Hope. But going for you was the last straw. He will be punished accordingly and you won’t have to worry about seeing him around here anymore. Okay?”

  Her posture relaxes now she’s finally let me explain fully. “Okay. Sorry, my head is so fucked right now. I didn’t mean to go at you like that. Men like him don’t deserve a single thing in life. Yet here, he has everything; food, bed, shelter and women that will drop their knickers for anyone.” She purses her lips and her brows are drawn. “I guess he gets a thrill out of forcing himself on a girl.”

  “He’s stuck in the old times when this place was run by my father. I won’t go into details because they weren’t pretty. When he died, I was voted in as president and things have changed dramatically in the last two years. Things are calmer than they used to be.” I don’t know why I’m saying this. She doesn’t want to know about the past ghosts of this place. She’s here for protection from Lynx and his gang, not to get acquainted with the place.

  “I remember my dad telling me about this place, about the goings on. Don’t worry, not club business as such, but he did tell me about how ruthless your father was. I can’t imagine what he was like at home but from what I’ve heard, he’s a complete a-hole.” She covers her mouth with a hand and a muffled ‘sorry’ comes from behind it.

  I chuckle, showing her it’s no bother that someone was going around telling people about this place, it’s history. It makes me uncomfortable and a little bit paranoid about who else her dad spoke to. “Did he speak to anyone else about the Crusaders?”

  “Not that I know of. In the end, me and my dad spoke a lot about stuff. We missed out on a lot over the years and we were just catching up, you know what I mean?” She looks me in the eye and I nod for her to continue. “I really thought we made a breakthrough in our relationship, but it seems it was all a farce considering he offered me on a silver platter to pay for his fucking debts.”

  Even the reminder of that has my blood boiling dangerously and I have to clench my jaw and my fists to stop myself from putting a hole in the closest wall. “Lynx will pay, sweetheart. I promise you that.” My voice is cold; detached. I don’t mean to but the anger rolling through me has me thinking of the shit I’d like to do to Lynx and his pathetic club. “Not only did they take you from right under our noses, but they’ve been trafficking children. You could probably guess that from the extremely young girls that were floating around the place. Wish we could have saved them all but we have Lucy and she’s safe. As are you.”

  She nods, her hands visibly shaking. Is she afraid of me? Or is she afraid they’ll come and take her again? “Do you have any clue where he is? Or any of them for that matter.”

  Shaking my head, I mumble, “No, but we’re working on it. My tech guy is searching through the dark recesses of the web, looking for trails. They’re not that smart and they’ll fuck up eventually.”

  Her nod is slow, methodical, but I can practically feel the anxiety rolling off of her. She’s petrified and I can’t say I blame her. Lynx is a fucked up individual and the more I think of him, the angrier I feel. Angry at what he did to Hope, angry about the young girls he’s taken, trafficked and done fuck knows what with. I’m angry that the bullet I shot at him had clearly missed the mark. All this time I thought that bellend was dead, but he’s been carrying on with life like he did before shit went down.

  “Mack?” Hope’s voice breaks through my reverie and I look up into a face that’s full of concern. Only then do I notice that I’m gripping the glass so tight that at any moment it could shatter, while my other hand is in a tight fist on the table top.

  I loosen my grip on the pint glass and release my fist, my fingers aching in protest. “Yeah? Sorry, sweetheart, zoned out there for a minute.” I take an unhealthy gulp of beer to wet my dry mouth, the cold beer slipping down my parched throat and leading a cool trail to my stomach.

  “What were you thinking about?” Hope tilts her head to the side, her arms crossed on the table and her fingernails on one hand tapping against the wood. “It’s Lynx, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t worry about me, babe, okay?” I give her a slight smile. “Once I catch this fucker though, he’s going to be cursing his mother for giving birth to him.” I lick my lips and furrow my brows as numerous scenarios run through my mind like a movie reel. “He’s going to wish he was never a figment of her imagination.”

  I see Hope’s hand shaking as she lifts her glass to her lips, the liquid rolling dangerously close to the rim. When she places it back onto the table, it makes a loud clunk and Hope jumps, eyes widening in surprise. “Shit. Sorry.”

  I place my hand over hers on the table, stroking a thumb over the veins. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologise. It’s understandable to be shaken up a little after that incident with Smoke.” I give her a smile, encouraging her that things will be okay.

  She doesn’t utter a word but nods her head to tell me she’s heard me. We sit in silence; Hope staring at a chip in the table and me glancing around at the array of faces that have now filled the room.

  “Hope, it looks like there will be a party tonight. You can either stay out here, get shitfaced and enjoy yourself in a safe environment…” I pause when she throws me a filthy glare. That glare only made my cock twitch though and smirk. “I trust every one of these men, Hope. Smoke is gone and won’t be back, I’ve said this, and I tend not to break my promises. Anyw
ay, like I was saying, you can either stay out here, drink to your heart’s content, or you can go to your room or the library if you wish.”

  Hope sits up straighter in her seat, eyes opening a fraction more in surprise. “You have a library here?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, we’re not all neanderthals who like to hurt people and shit, most of us love a good book too.” I wink at her and realise my thumb is still stroking the top of her hand. I give it one last squeeze before I wrap my hands around my glass. “I can show you it now if you like? Before more people show up and I get cornered for shots.”

  Shrugging, she replies, “Sure, I’d love to. Reading is something I love and something I’ve missed terribly.” She chuckles lightly, the sound glorious to my ears. “Reading is like an addiction you know, commonly compared to Heroin but without toxins. I may not have been… abducted and held for long, but I usually read five books a week and I’m itching to get my hands back on one.” Her rambling is fucking cute and I want to kiss her so bad that I subtly have to shift myself in my jeans before my dick gets uncomfortable.

  “Let’s go.” I drain the last of my beer. “You can take your drink with you.” I nod to her glass before standing from my chair, the legs squeaking against the laminate flooring.

  I grab her hand, it’s warmth sending shoots of sparks up my arm. I gulp back the shock I’m feeling and lead her through the rapidly filling bar to the corridor leading down to the bedrooms and communal bathrooms.

  The hallway for the rooms is long but before long we reach the end and I’m pulling her behind me as I turn right down yet another one. This corridor isn’t as long and I’m soon opening a wooden door that leads into the second biggest room of the club.

  I hear the shocked gasp from Hope behind me and I can’t fight the smirk pulling at the corners of my mouth. This room, apart from the bar, is my favourite room. It used to be a museum of past faces, frame upon frame lined the walls with fallen brothers along with parts of their bikes in honour of them. I felt it morbid, and it gave me the chills even coming in here.

  After a vote in Church, everyone decided it should be changed. After all, ghosts of the past should stay there, their haunted faces don’t need to remind us of the dangers we face in this lifestyle. A shiver rakes down my spine as I stand in the room, remembering the image before I had it converted into a library.

  Bookcases line side by side against every inch of wall. Thousands of books are housed here, from floor to ceiling, and there’s also a little passage hidden behind one of the bookcases where first edition books are held safely. Only the brothers know about that place and that’s the way it will stay.

  “This is fucking incredible!” Hope exclaims as she stands in the middle of the room, turning in a circle, arms stretched out and a smile curling her lips up sexily. I have to look away before I embarrass myself. That’s the first smile I’ve been graced with and it’s positively beautiful. It may not have reached her eyes but her face still lit up. “There’s not even a window that can tether you to the outside world. It’s like a sanctuary of sorts.”

  “That was my plan.” I lick my suddenly dry lips as she continues standing there, marvelling at the beauty of the room.

  “Wait a minute.” She turns to face me, her eyebrows high into her hairline. “You built this?”

  “Well, the room was already here, I just had it converted from a memorial room to a place where we can escape to when shit gets tough; a room where we can get lost in the fictional world instead of the real world.” I shrug nonchalantly when inside my pride has soared. I mentally fist pump the air at this beautiful woman’s approval and lean against the now closed door with my arms crossed. “I’m guessing you like it.”

  “Like it? Understatement of the year, Mack. I fucking love it. Am I allowed in here whenever I want? I think I can see myself spending most of my stay in this room.” Her eyes are shining with excitement and I can tell she’s itching to get her nose stuck in a book.

  “Of course you can. Come and go as you please.” I wave a hand around the room. “Spend as much time in here as you want.”

  “Thank you!” she squeals, throwing her arms around my neck. I hesitate a moment before wrapping my arms around her petite frame. She’s warm and she fits perfectly to the shape of my body. She belongs right here in my arms, though I’m not sure she’s ready to hear that shit. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’m not ready to voice it aloud.

  Hope

  After Mack has left me alone in the grand library, I go and run my finger down the spines of some of the books, taking my time to read the titles. I look up a little and notice a little laminated plaque card that tells me the genre in this particular section. It’s just like the libraries out in the real world.

  I have to chuckle to myself. The real world? I’m only down the road, pretty much, from the main shopping area which I know also holds a massive twentieth-century library. On the outside it looks like an old medieval church but on the inside it’s all modern. Kinda takes the fun out of it really; you go in there expecting extravagance but instead the walls have been renovated and painted a bright white and what used to be wood-panelled flooring is now covered with a nasty beige carpet. The only thing they’ve kept from the original building is the stained glass window at the back of the room. This room though, this is something you would expect to see in the main town library.

  I take a deep breath in through my nose, taking with it the smell of paperback books. The smell always calms me, but in here, with no ventilation, the smell is overpowering. I fucking love it.

  Making my way to the crime/thriller section of this home built library, I study the titles that I can see, and reach, debating on a book by Jeffrey Deaver or Kathy Reichs. I love both authors and I know they’ve both just released a new scary thriller that will have my pulse raising and my mind forgetting about everything that’s happened.

  I do the eeny-meeny-minie-mo thing and land on Kathy Reichs. A grin spreads across my face as I pull the copy from the shelf and run a hand down the smooth cover. I can tell this has yet to be read by anyone and I’m itching to get started.

  Deciding on the worn, comfy looking recliner instead of the soft cushioned sofa, I take a seat, moaning as it seems to envelope me, place my drink on the little antique side table and tuck my feet beneath my arse. I’m pretty sure if no one tries to send me to bed, I’ll have this read by the time I decide for myself to get some sleep.

  Smiling, I open to the first page and get stuck in, my mind now being taken over by the words on the pages.

  Mack

  When I reach the main room, the party is in full swing; girls on the poles and men sat around the stage, drinking and whistling loudly. I shake my head and take a seat at the bar when I’m immediately served with a pint glass of cold beer. I throw a thanks over my shoulder before taking a gulp and placing it back on the bar.

  “Prez! I was wondering where your arse had disappeared to.” Ranger slaps me on the back, moving me a few inches forward and nearly toppling off my stool. “You’ve been AWOL for about half hour.”

  “Do I have to be in your presence constantly, VP?” I raise a brow at him as I ask the question and he laughs loudly with his head thrown back.

  “No, but I have been looking for you. I’ve got some info on Lynx and his little degenerates.” He waggles his brows at me and I roll my eyes. The dude has spent a bit too much time with his buddy Jack Daniels.

  “My office? Or are you too pissed to tell me now?” I pause to smirk at him before continuing with, “Actually, better you tell me now in case you forget in the morning.”

  Hopping down from the stool, I grab my pint and lead the way down the other hallway, down the other side of the bar, toward my office.

  Once inside, Ranger closes the door and collapses onto the couch in the corner while I take a seat behind my desk, placing the cool glass onto a coaster on the wooden desktop. “Spit it out then, VP. Don’t have all night.”

  “Shut up, Prez
, you and I both know that you have nothing planned except to get completely shit faced. Unless... “ He waggles those bushy eyebrows again and I scowl.

  “Please stop waggling your caterpillars and tell me what you’ve found out before I lose my shit and just lock you in your room… or the basement. Choice is yours.” I scrub a hand down my face as my patience starts fading. I’m well known for not having a lot of it and being beyond exhausted just makes me have a short fuse. “Today, Ranger.”

  “Alright, alright, keep your toupee on, old man.” He lets out a merciless chuckle as I growl into the room. “Okay, Rexx has been in the dark recesses of the web. The back alleys if you so wish.” He clears his throat before continuing, “Well it seems Lynx, along with the rest the Devil Head’s gang have left a little trail by accident. You may want to speak to Rexx about all the technical bullshit to it but apparently they tried deleting some rather interesting emails. Some are from Granger and some are from someone we know a little too fucking well.” His eyes narrow and his cheeks colour as anger seeps through his system.

  “Who, Ranger?” My voice holds a note of warning that he better fucking spit the name out now or I’m liable to lose my shit and it’s going to be aimed at him and that’s the last thing I want to do.

  “You’re not going to like it, brother.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, uneasiness pouring from his body in waves.

  “Just fucking tell me!” My voice booms across the room. I’m breathing hard, trying desperately to get a hold of my building temper. “Ranger,” I warn through gritted teeth.

  “Pike.” His voice is barely a whisper but I caught the name and my hands clench, my fingers feeling like they’re about to snap.

  “Please tell me you’re fucking joking with me right now, VP.” My eyes scan his face for any idea that he’s playing with me. His face remains stoic, still, and his eyes don’t blink. He grimaces under my scrutiny and again rubs at the back of his neck.