Wrath: Lotus MC Motorcycle Romance, page 1
wrath
Lotus MC Book 2
Cala Riley
contents
Content Warning:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Author Bio
Acknowledgments
Where to Find Us
Copyright @ 2023 by Cala Riley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, except for brief quotes used for reviews and certain other non-commercial uses, as per copyright laws. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Y’all That Graphic
Editor: My Brother’s Editor
Formatting: Dark Ink Designs
content warning:
Before you start binge reading Wrath, we wanted to warn you about possible triggers. Like most of our books this one contains cursing, violence, and unaliving. Our heroine is also a SA survivor. The last thing we want to do is trigger you. For a more detailed list of TW please check our website.
If you or anyone you know needs help, please call the National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
Book girlies, this one’s for you. You’ll know the scene we mean specifically when you read it.
prologue
How in the hell did I end up here?
I stare in the mirror at the handprint around my throat. The definition of the fingerprints is impressive. My eyes drop to my bruise-covered arms. Taking a deep breath, I drop the towel onto the floor and see that my left side is different shades of yellow and purple. I feel the tears gathering and squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t cry. Not again.
How is this my life?
Growing up, I was Daddy’s princess. Then in high school, my mom died. Six months later, my dad married a girl who was only five years older than me. Soon he forgot that I existed, and she made it known I wasn’t welcome. As soon as I graduated, I hit the road. I spent a couple months hopping around until I ended up in Vegas.
Next thing I knew, my credit cards were shut off. I had no money and had never worked a day in my life. Then I found Lotus MC, and they took me in. I genuinely enjoyed it in the beginning, but in the last year it’s gotten old.
And then he happened.
My throat gets tight as I think about him straddling me, trying to choke the life out of me.
“Fuckin’ girl doesn’t know when to shut up and take it,” he grunts.
“No,” I rasp, shaking off the memory.
I can’t go there again. I won’t.
Then I think about the way Wrath dropped to his knees in front of me and held up his bloody hands, promising me Jug would never hurt me again, and, for some reason, I believe him.
one
Staring in the mirror, I take a deep breath as I run my hands over my hips. I have on a white blouse and black dress pants and heels. My brown hair is twisted at the base of my neck into a bun, and I have small studs in my ears. My makeup is flawless and does a killer job covering up the deep circles under my eyes from the lack of sleep. I feel like a completely different person than I was then.
Nonetheless, I look just like her.
Growing up, you never want to hear that you look like your mother, but now that I’m an adult and she’s gone, I love it.
My phone vibrates on the bathroom counter, and I grab it.
“It’s time,” I mumble to myself as I shut off the alarm, reminding me it’s time to go. I make my way into Wrath’s bedroom that I’ve taken over and grab my purse and head for the door.
“Good luck!” Natalie yells from her place at the bar as I pass by.
“Thanks!” I yell over my shoulder before I step outside.
Hurrying, I make my way to my car and get in. After putting on my seat belt and turning on the car, I look up into the rearview mirror and look at myself.
I got this.
Or so I thought. As I pull up outside the shop, nerves get the best of me.
I don’t got this.
My hands shake as I pull into the parking spot and shut off the car. I look out of the windshield at the brick building in front of me.
Last week, Midnight came up to me and asked if I was still looking for a job. Apparently, he has been wanting to hire a receptionist for a while and hasn’t gotten around to it. While I know nothing about tattoos, I jumped on it. Honestly, it sounds way better than working at the auto shop, which Reaper offered me.
I mean, logically, I know they are both throwing me a pity job. The club feels responsible for me after everything that went down with Jug. I shiver at the memory of him. He changed my life and not in a good way. Just thinking about him makes my skin crawl. Gently, I rest my hand on my side where I was stabbed not that long ago. The stitches are gone, but the puckered skin remains.
Still, even if it’s a pity job, I hope the experience I learn is enough to translate into another job one day. Then I won’t have to depend on the club to get me through.
A slight sadness fills me at the thought of leaving them though. Even though I had a bad experience, I still like it there. I’m still hesitant to leave them.
Taking a deep breath, I get out of the car and make my way toward the door. Today’s my first day, and I’m nervous. As soon as I step inside, I’m blown away. There are blown-up pieces of art on the wall that are gorgeous and look like they belong in a gallery. The walls are white, but the back wall is exposed brick. The enormous desk is made of wood and metal.
I fucking love everything about this.
“Hey, you made it,” Midnight says as he comes around the corner, having heard the bell on the door chime.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” I cringe.
I hate having to apologize, but it’s instinct at this point. One I’ve been working on.
He looks over at the clock on the wall. He raises an eyebrow when he looks back at me. “You’re thirty minutes early. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
I shrug as I bite the inside of my cheek.
Don’t fuck this up.
Midnight has always been one of the kinder men in the club. Never made me feel worthless like some of the other men did.
“Am I dressed okay? We never talked about what I should wear,” I ask.
Midnight’s eyes soften as he crosses his arms. “You look great. Maybe a little too dressed up, but great. You’re allowed to wear whatever you want. What you are wearing now or jeans and a T-shirt. Tomorrow, though, you might want to wear some better shoes. Those are going to kill your feet.”
I look down at my heels and cringe. Why in the hell did I think heels in a tattoo shop were a good idea? I’m already messing up. I’m going to be terrible at this. My thoughts take over before I feel a slight touch on my shoulder.
I flinch away from it. Midnight holds his hands up.
“Hey Tara, relax. It’s going to be okay. Don’t stress so much. This is a laid-back place.”
I nod, but don’t say anything. I hate that I can’t even handle a casual touch from a man anymore. In my head, I know it’s not him. I know that I’m safe. Yet my body still reacts. I hope one day I can work through it. Even though I am not looking for it now, one day I hope to find someone to share my life with.
“How about I show you where you can put your shit and then walk you through the system?” He points toward the computer on the desk.
“Sounds good.”
For the next thirty minutes, Midnight gives me the basics. After a quick tour where he shows me where he keeps all the supplies they use, he then sits me down at the computer. He doesn’t dive into everything, but he shows me how to schedule appointments and check the email and social media accounts.
“That’s where we will start you. You don’t have to actually make any posts. Just reply to any messages. Once you’ve got that down, we can add in other things, like some of the office work I hate doing. You understand it all?”
“I do. It’s pretty cut and dry,” I say confidently.
It’s a lot easier than I expected. Granted, he did say that this is only part of the job. I feel like this is a trial run. If I do good, then he will give me the keys to the castle.
The idea of disappointing him sends dread into my stomach. I try to ignore it and smile at Midnight.
Midnight chuckles. “It is. I wanted it to be as simple as possible in case any of the employees had to step in in a pinch. They pretty much all make their own appointments right now, but it’ll be helpful to have us all using a central system so we can track everything. This way, you can make appointments for them too or know when we can accept a walk-in.”
I sm
The bell above the door goes off, and I look up and see a man covered in tattoos with a lip piercing step through the door.
“ Sup?” He nods at Midnight before looking at me. “Hey there, little momma.”
The smile on his face can only be explained as sex on a stick. I can see how women can be easily charged by this man. He oozes confidence from his skin.
Midnight’s voice goes hard. “Jerico, this is Tara. She’s one of my buddy’s old ladies. She’s our new receptionist. Tara, this is Jerico, one of my artists.”
Off-limits. That’s what Midnight said without outright saying it.
I bite my lip to stop myself from correcting Midnight. I’m not an old lady and never will be. Everyone knows that sweetbutts don’t get wifed up. While I appreciate Wrath for stepping in and temporarily claiming me, not once has he ever called me his old lady. Honestly, it’s laughable that Midnight would call me that. Still, I can’t help but wonder when the other shoe will drop. Eventually, the charade will end.
The only thing stopping me is that I see the effect it has on Jerico. The suave playboy melts into a more friendly smile. That’s for the best. Dating is not on the table for me right now, but even if it was, dating a coworker is a terrible idea. If we got together and broke up, I’d be the one without a job. Receptionists are easy to replace, while I’m sure it’s a bitch finding an artist.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jerico says, pulling me out of my head, offering his hand.
I take it, shaking it without issue.
For a moment, I marvel at that. I didn’t flinch away from him. Maybe a casual touch is okay if I’m expecting it. Or maybe it’s because he dropped that facade he had up.
Either way, it’s something I’m now dying to explore.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” he tells me.
“Thanks. I will.”
Midnight looks over at me a moment before turning back to Jerico.
“You have that back piece today, right?” Midnight asks him.
“Yeah, it’s going to be a long one.”
Midnight nods in agreement. “Make sure you take breaks when you need to. Don’t keep going just because they are good.”
Jerico rolls his eyes and starts walking toward the back of the shop. “Yes, Dad.”
Midnight mumbles under his breath, “Little shit.”
I chuckle quietly.
“How many people work here?” I ask after a moment.
“I have two more artists and a piercer. I think you’ll like them. Especially Elle. She’s our female tattoo artist.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
The bell rings again, and I turn and see a man walking through the door.
“This is my first customer. How about you get him checked in?” Midnight says quietly.
I step toward the computer and wake it up. “Hi, how can I help you today?”
The man eyes me as much as he can with the massive desk hiding me. “I have an appointment with Midnight, name’s Oscar.”
I pull up Midnight’s schedule, and sure enough, he has the man down, and I quickly get him checked in.
“Good job,” Midnight tells me before turning back toward the man.
Inside I’m beaming. For once, I feel like I’m doing something right.
“Alright, let’s get to work. We’re doing that cover piece on your forearm, right?”
“Yeah,” the man tells him. “What’s the deal with the new girl?” he asks as he passes by.
I hear Midnight repeat what he said to Jerico regarding me.
I bite back my laugh as I shake my head.
This is going to be interesting.
The punching bag violently swings as I hit it.
How did my life end up like this?
Truth is, I know how. I let my emotions get the best of me, and now my whole world has been turned upside down. I liked my life the way it was. I had my brothers and my club. If I was looking for someone to scratch that itch, I paid an escort so I could dive into my darker tastes.
Then she came along.
It wasn’t that long ago, yet it seems like a lifetime. Natalie came looking for me, needing assistance. I knew right away something wasn’t right. As soon as I saw her concern-filled face, I was ready to take on the world for the woman who became something to my best friend and pres. More than that, she was my friend. Only nothing seemed physically wrong with her. Then my gaze moved to the woman she brought in with her, and everything came to a halt. In that moment, it wasn’t Tara I saw, but someone else. I was thrown back into the past. To that little boy who couldn’t do anything. Yet, I’m not that boy. Not anymore. Instead, rage took over, and I was out for blood.
Somehow, I kept my head long enough to get the answers I needed. By the time his blood covered my knuckles, I had started to calm down.
I walk back toward Tara and drop to my knees in front of her.
“He will never touch you again,” I promise her, holding my bloody hands up for her to see.
As if they were some prize to be offered to her. The only proof I could offer that the threat was no longer there. Only she wasn’t the woman from my past. This was the woman standing in front of me. The one that had been hurt by a brother in my own damn club. How did I miss it? How could I let him get away with this under my roof?
Tara hesitantly reaches up to cup my cheek before she pulls my head to her stomach, hugging me as tears fall down her face.
No, this wasn’t my mother. This was Tara. One of the sweetbutts that had been with us the longest. Someone who was kind to others and respected the rules of the club.
We were supposed to protect her.
We failed her.
“Thank you,” she whispers through a sob.
After a moment, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight before picking her up.
“You’re with me until you’re healed,” I tell her, taking off toward the clubhouse.
I dare anyone to contradict me. I failed her once. I won’t fail her again.
I don’t think Tara really realized what happened that day. I went against club rules and placed a temporary claim on her in front of my brothers. I marked her off-limits, offering her something that no other sweetbutt had ever had before.
Yet, Tara took my protection and ran with it. I watched her from afar, daring one of the brothers to go against me. I had no real claim on her, and if they pushed the issue, I would be up a creek without a paddle, but none of them ever did. Still, every time one would approach Tara, I watched her tense. Then her eyes would seek me out if I was in the room. As if she knew I was watching her.
The men never tried to touch her, but she still kept her distance. Long gone was the sweetbutt I once knew. The one who would gladly follow any brother into their room for a night. In her place is a girl scared of touch. Someone who is coping with her trauma and moving on.
The real turning point for her was when I told her that Jug was dead, and she would never have to worry about him again. Hell, knowing he was never going to come back around gave me mixed emotions. While I was happy for her, it made me question my place in her life. What good was I to her if the threat was over? Still, I didn’t put an end to it all.
As more time passed, her bruises faded and she smiled more often. She put on a hell of a show, but I know the truth. She’s still not sleeping through the night. Her shoulders tense up when someone approaches her from behind unexpectedly. You don’t just get over something like sexual assault in the blink of an eye. That shit will linger with her forever. If Natalie has taught me anything, though, it’s that the most broken person can turn around and become a warrior.
Then last week happened. One of the guys at church pushed back against my claim of Tara. They demanded I release my hold on her and let her go back to living her life as she had. The idea of any of those men touching her drove me mad. Especially knowing that she didn’t welcome their touch. Not anymore.
So I opened my big, fat mouth and sealed our fates.
“Fine, then she’s my old lady. As of right now.”
As soon as the words left my mouth a week ago, I regretted them. Not because there’s something wrong with Tara, but because I never saw myself with an old lady. If my old man taught me anything, it was that men like us don’t deserve the love of a good woman. I watched him beat my mother night after night. His blood runs through my veins, and I won’t risk it. I’d like to say I’d never hurt a woman, but never say never. One bad rage and I could ruin her. That would only lead to one thing. Eating a bullet from my own gun.
