Mace’s Wraith by L.A. Day
Chapter Three
Scarlett curled up on the bed and Mace went to get some wood for the stove. The bin was nearly full, really, he just needed time and space. Being in the same room with Scar made it near impossible for him to concentrate on the business at hand. The video had outed Ghost, Tank and Nitro as the culprits. He wasn’t all that surprised about Ghost and Tank but Nitro, his treasurer, was a blow. He’d thought they were tight. It made him wonder. He couldn’t assume all the other club members were innocent, but he didn’t have reason to suspect anyone else. However, Cowboy was the only one he trusted completely. A day ago he would have said Juice was above reproach but he’d have been wrong. Drugs changed people. Mace was thankful he’d never been an addict, because he’d witnessed the destruction the disease left in its wake.
Mace headed around to the back of the cabin and unlocked the shed. Inside was his pop’s vintage Harley. He ran his hand lovingly over the leather seat. His dad, Trig, had been president of Wraith’s Blood before him. Trig had run an organized but brutal club. Mace hadn’t agreed with a lot of his pop’s decisions, but he’d never said so publicly. Tank had been one of his pop’s best friends, however he’d been vocal in not wanting Mace as his president. Mace snagged a bottle of bourbon off the shelf and twisted the cap. He tipped it up and it burned like fire on the way down. He threw his head back and took another swig.
“Fuck,” he cursed. He pulled his arm back and slammed the bottle into the wall, sending alcohol and glass flying. “Brother, why didn’t you come to me? We could have figured it out.” Mace talked to the empty room. He threw his leg over his pop’s bike. When he visited, he always took it for a ride, but as much as he longed to hit the road, he couldn’t leave Scar alone. The wind whistled outside and a branch rubbed against a small, dirty pane of glass. On the shelf above the window was an old, framed photo of him and Juice when they were young. Mace blinked rapidly as he stared at the picture. “I know, brother. You would have never let them hurt me.”
Mace looked out the open shed door at the cabin where Scar rested. “I’m going to keep her safe then I’m going to claim her.”
The wind moaned.
Mace chuckled. “It’s about time, I know, Cupid, but you didn’t have to die to bring Scar and me together. I planned to seek her out. I just wanted things more settled at the club. I should have been more careful. I should have known it was coming.” He’d had suspicions. That had been why he’d had the cameras installed. Juice had been in charge of viewing the recordings, but they had got to Juice before he’d revealed anything.
Mace inhaled then exhaled a deep breath. He hadn’t sought the role of president, but Pop had thrust it upon him when he’d gotten a cancer diagnosis. Mace had been honest about his vision for the club and his dad had supported it. Trig had convinced most of the members that it was time for a new direction before they all ended up dead or in prison. It had taken Mace a couple years to peacefully sever old ties and make new, prosperous relationships. The club was still solvent, but the profits weren’t what they used to be, at least not yet.
The younger officers like Juice and Cowboy had supported him one hundred percent. He’d thought Nitro did too. His mistake. Not a mistake he could afford to make again.
He needed a plan to take control and permanently oust the traitors. He needed to devise a way to get Tank, Ghost and Nitro alone where they could be disposed of without any witnesses. A thought began forming and Mace reached for his cell to hash out details with Cowboy.
He would protect the club and Scarlett.
* * * *
The door squeaked shut and Scar looked up at him with her hair in disarray. His dick twitched at the sexy picture she made. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep. What were you doing?”
“Thinking, and I called Cowboy. I needed to give him a heads-up,” he told her as he crossed to the stove and added wood.
“He isn’t safe,” she said.
“He knows. He’s tucked away. I’m meeting him tomorrow.”
“We’re meeting him.”
He lunged to his feet and spun to face her. “The fuck you say? You ain’t going anywhere near this. You can hang with Grady until I come back.”
Scarlett sat up in the bed. Her shirt was a little askew and he tried not to stare at the abundance of cleavage. “I want to be there. I want to see them suffer,” she argued.
Mace shook his head. “You think you do but you don’t. You can’t unsee some shit. I know. Besides, I ain’t puttin’ you in danger, babe.”
“Argh!” She slammed her fists on the bed. “Can I ask what the plan is?”
He frowned. It wasn’t the club’s way to involve women in their business, but Scar had a huge stake in this. “The crew knows I’m protecting you. Cowboy told them Juice said you were in danger. But they don’t know he named Ghost. We’re gonna grab a Twisted Demon member and tell the crew we think he was involved. We’ll lure Ghost, Tank and Nitro to help interrogate him in the dungeon. But it won’t be the Demon who goes down.”
Scar pursed her lips as she considered his words. “But they’ll outnumber you all.”
“We’ll have surprise on our side, and not all our brothers are traitors.”
Scar shook her head. “It’s too risky.”
“Life in a club is risky.”
She sighed and looked away. He could tell she was upset, but she had been raised in a club. She knew the drill. He was telling her more than most ol’ ladies ever knew, and she should appreciate that.
“In the morning, Cowboy is gonna call Tank and tell him we have a lead. That we think Juice was using again and his supplier offed him. That way when we show up with the Demon it won’t be a surprise.”
“That’s dangerous. Won’t the Demons come down on the MC?”
“Nah. One of them owes me big-time. He’ll just be the bait. We won’t hurt him much.” Mace smirked.
She closed her eyes then slowly opened them to meet his gaze. “When are you leaving?”
“In the morning.”
Scar stretched out on her side. “Can you hold me?”
Mace opened his mouth to refuse, but he found himself agreeing as he knelt on the bed. He moved to lie behind her and dropped his arm around her waist. She was soft and compliant in his arms and her jasmine scent enflamed his senses. Bad idea, he thought, as more than memories began to stir.
“You used to hold me like this all the time.”
Mace swallowed hard. “Yeah. I remember.” He’d never been able to forget the feel of her in his arms. He brushed her long hair off her shoulder, revealing the smooth skin of her neck. At the base of her hairline a darkened patch of skin drew his gaze. He brushed it with his thumb. “What the fuck is this? Who put this on you?” he growled as his gut knotted.
Her hand flew up, covering the mark. “It’s not what you think.”
Anger roiled through him. “You mean some dude wasn’t just recently sucking on your neck? Marking your neck right where I used to?”
“Who the fuck are you to be angry? You threw me away, remember?” She twisted, flashing angry eyes his way. “You don’t give a fuck about me.”
He tightened his fingers on her hip. He wanted to toss her over his knee and paddle her ass for allowing another man to touch his property. “That’s a lie and you know it. You said there wasn’t anyone. Who is it?”
“I said I was professional in my shop.”
A feeling of dread settled over him and he swallowed hard. “Is it someone I know?” Most of his club sported her ink. Had one of them made a move on his woman?
Scar shook her head and looked away. “It’s not what you think.”
“Explain!” he demanded.
Scar huffed. “It’s silly. I was young and stupid.” She cast her eyes downward as she continued, “It’s ink.”
“Who? Ink from the Maniacs? I’ll fuckin’ kill him. He’s fuckin’ married with kids, did you know that?”
“No! A tattoo,” she whispered.
“A tattoo?” He wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged her closer, tracing the spot with his finger. “Why would—” He cut himself short. When they had first been together and hiding their relationship, he’d often put love bites in this exact spot. He trailed his finger to the red rose on her shoulder. He used to give her a single red rose as a sign of affection.
“I was young.” Her voice quavered.
“Young and in love. You inked your body with our love story,” he said incredulously as his finger trailed her soft skin.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Love like that doesn’t die,” he whispered against her neck.
“It does when it’s one-sided,” she said bitterly.
Mace leaned back and grabbed the collar of his T-shirt, yanking it over his head.
“What at you doing?” she asked, rolling to her back.
Her wide eyes stared at him and he didn’t miss the way her gaze skimmed his naked flesh. He clasped her hand and raised it to his chest.
“You have a scar,” she said, tracing the puckered skin.
“Right over my heart. I carved my flesh when you left. I wanted a scar in your honor.” He cupped her jaw.
A sob escaped her lips as she leaned forward to kiss the permanent reminder of their love. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.
He brought his lips to the top of her head. “I broke your heart, but I broke mine too.”
“Mace,” she said on a shaky breath. “I can’t think…”
He cradled her in his arms. “I’m never letting you go again.”
“But tomorrow—”
“I’ll come back for you and make you mine.”
She traced the scar with her lips and tongue and his dick surged, but he wouldn’t take advantage when she was reeling from the loss of her brother.
“Mace, make love to me.”
He sucked in a ragged breath as her soft plea hit him like a gut punch. There was nothing he wanted more. He’d wanted to claim her for a long time but he’d been honorable and he’d pushed her away. When she’d turned eighteen, he’d almost taken her, but he’d denied them both, trying to do the right thing. Now her grief was fresh and he couldn’t take advantage. “I want to, more than anything,” he said.
“Then do it. Please.”
He shook his head as he tried to be noble again. “I don’t want our first time to be because you’re running from grief, baby. I want it to be because you want me as much as I want you.”
“I do. I always have, even when I hated you,” she mumbled against his chest.
Mace blew out a harsh sigh.
“I want to be with you. I won’t regret it. This has been coming for a long time. It’s not because I’m hiding from my grief. Sure, you’ll make me forget for a minute, but—”
“I think it would be longer than a minute.” He ran his fingers through her long silky hair as he gazed into her shimmering eyes, seeing the desire he felt reflected back at him.
“Mason,” she said as a plea, and that one word tugged at something deep inside him. Other than his mother, and Grady, Scar was the only one to ever use his real name.
He cupped her cheek, dragging his thumb across her full bottom lip. “I’m done pushing you away. It’s time I claim what’s mine.”
“It is,” she said with a sob.
“I should have claimed you at eighteen. I hate the thought of other men—”
“There’s never been another man, Mason.”
Everything grew quiet. The only sound was his heartbeat thundering in his ears. She couldn’t have said what he thought she said. He shook his head in denial but her baby blues spoke volumes. “Are you saying that you’re still a virgin?”
She nodded. “If I couldn’t trust you, I didn’t think I could trust anyone.”
“Fuck!” he cursed. “I can’t just take you like this. You deserve better.”
Her fist drilled him in the chest but he barely felt it. “You always think that. But this is perfect. It’s private and romantic.”
He arched a brow and looked at her doubtfully. He knew that first times weren’t always the best. He hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t brought condoms or lube. There wasn’t any wine to relax her. He’d fuckin’ smashed the only bottle of bourbon at the cabin. “I want your first time to be perfect.”
“It will be, because it’s with you.” She nipped his flesh with her teeth and he growled at the rush of sensation. “Please?” she asked, with her face buried in his chest. “We don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I want tonight with you.”
He cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his nipple. She nipped the tender flesh then sucked it into her mouth and fire raced through his veins. “I want you too, Scarlett. I want it all, but I need to warn you I didn’t bring condoms.”
“Are you clean?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t care.”
“Just because it’s the first time doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant,” he warned. The thought of her swollen with his child hit him in the gut.
She bit down harder. “I’m a virgin but I’m not stupid. I know how it works. If I get pregnant, I can support a child.”
He pulled her hair, angling her face to meet his gaze. “You wouldn’t be alone. While I’m on this earth, you’ll never be alone again. I’m your family now.”