Ravage MC: Inflame Me Part 21

His attention goes back to the conversation, but the woman keeps going. Her hands now go to his shoulders as she leans into him, brushing her fat, fake b.r.e.a.s.t.s over his arm. A hand comes to my leg and squeezes hard.

I turn to Princess. "What?" I grit out through my teeth.

"Just wait," she tells me, but all of my insecurities rise to the surface, making me want to punch something. I could just reach behind my back and pull out the small gun Rhys taught me to shoot a couple of weeks ago. I could blast her right in the head since I have a killer shot.

I shake my head. Listen to me. I sound like a vigilante, like I would really take a life for touching the guy I'm sleeping with. Well, practically living with, considering he's either at my place or we're at his every night. I see what he meant with not getting an apartment, but I needed that with my mother.

I breathe out deeply and try to tamp down all the raging thoughts. However, when she stands on her tiptoes and whispers something in his ear, something breaks inside of me. It's not my heart; it's my fury.

Princess's grip tightens on me just as I'm about to rise. I want to ignore it, but her grip is pretty strong, not allowing me to do that.

Rhys has a sour expression on his face as he steps back from the woman. "Get the f.u.c.k off me," he growls loudly enough the whole room can hear. "See that woman?" He points over to me, his eyes meeting mine as a smirk plays on his lips from whatever he sees on my face. He turns back to the woman. "That's my woman."

Her eyes flitter to me, and her top lip curls up. "So? You always love to play, and I'm h.o.r.n.y," she whines.

That's it. The straw has broken the camel's back. I rise, shrugging off the clamping hand on my leg, my chair falling to the ground I'm so quick. I stalk up to the woman who has her intentions on my man. His eyes find mine, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with humor.

I tap the woman on the shoulder, and she turns then sneers when she sees me.

"Back the h.e.l.l off," I tell her, getting right up in her face that is covered with way too much makeup than should be allowed.

"I get it. You're here, and he can't play." She rolls her eyes.

Before I think better of it, my arm comes back, and I land a hard right hook to the woman's cheek. I've never been a fighter, but after James and the a.s.sholes at X, I got over it.

The woman's head snaps to the side as her hand comes up to her face just as she falls to her knees on the floor.

"I said back the h.e.l.l off," I tell her, standing over her body, her eyes wide.

I know I don't look like the type to lay a b.i.t.c.h out, but looks can be deceiving. My eyes move up to Rhys who has a full-out smile on his face.

"And you," I tell him, pointing my finger in his chest. "I told you I wouldn't put up with that s.h.i.t."

I turn to head back toward the table where Casey and Princess have big smiles, but a steel arm comes around my waist and lifts me off the ground. I wiggle from Rhys's strong hold, but he doesn't allow me to get away. He says nothing, only walks straight back to his room at the clubhouse amidst all the cheers and whistles behind us.

The door slams, and suddenly, my front is pressed to the door, his hot breath at my ear. "Sprite, that was the hottest f.u.c.king thing I've ever seen."

Briefly, I have the thought, That was the hottest thing you've seen? What the h.e.l.l? But whatever. Instead, I focus on my body coming alive under his touch.

"I'm gonna check your hand ... after I f.u.c.k you." He undoes my jeans, and they, along with my underwear, are gone in a flash.

"I'm gonna f.u.c.k you so hard every motherf.u.c.ker in this place will know who you belong to."

Wetness pools down below, and without him even touching my c.l.i.t, it quivers in antic.i.p.ation.

"I'm putting my f.u.c.king rag on you, too, so no one mistakes it."

Excitement like no other spikes through me as the sounds of his zipper and rustle of his jeans dropping echo over our heavy pants.

He lifts my leg, bending it at the knee as the blunt tip of his erection nudges my opening. Without mercy, he slams into me, and I cry out from the invasion, but the burn turns to pleasure in a flash.

I find it hard to breathe as I try to clutch the door, finding nothing but a flat surface. He presses me harder against it. He must have sensed I was slipping as he continues his thrusts.

This isn't sweet or caring. No, this is hot, hard, and carnal. And I love it.

The pressure burns inside me as his length awakens every nerve, sending me soaring in no time. I scream his name and suck in deep breaths as he continues until he finds his release with a large grunt.

I sag against the door, his arm dropping my leg and wrapping around me to support me. If it weren't there, I would for sure fall into a tumble on the ground.

He stays inside of me while we catch our breath, the hot tickle of his breath coming through my shirt at my back. d.a.m.n, that was hot.

WHY DID I think Flash would just pack her s.h.i.t and leave again? I knew better. I also knew better than to call her a.s.s over the phone and break s.h.i.t off. I've been with the woman so long I should have done it face to face, but in the moment, all I could think about was taking Mearna home to my house that I bought. In other words, I was leading with my d.i.c.k and not my f.u.c.king head. Stupid, but I did this s.h.i.t to myself.

I walk through what was my very well-put-together home, especially since Flash kept s.h.i.t picked up and took good care of it. Now the once kicka.s.s living room is torn to shreds, and I mean that literally. The b.i.t.c.h took a f.u.c.king knife to my brown leather couches and chairs. It looks like a hammer or sledgehammer, for that matter, went to work on my coffee tables and my f.u.c.king flat screen. Particles of wood and gla.s.s litter the hardwood floors.

I bend down and touch my finger to a gash in the floor. The b.i.t.c.h took a knife to that, too. f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

I enter the kitchen and realize I should have f.u.c.king stopped and gone back to the clubhouse. It would have been a better choice. Instead, I stare at every single dish, cup, appliance, utensil, and whatever else is in a kitchen that has been thrown or smashed around the s.p.a.ce. A frying pan sits on top of the once gla.s.s stove; now it's just shattered pieces. The door to the microwave is off its hinges, too.

This b.i.t.c.h is p.i.s.sed. Then again, at this moment, so the f.u.c.k am I.

I walk quickly through the rest of the house, noting the b.i.t.c.h f.u.c.king touched every single room of the house. There is nothing I can even remotely keep. My clothes are tattered pieces of fabric. Anything she could break, she did. There's nothing left.

As the anger bubbles inside of me, I pick up the already destroyed dresser and throw it across the room, only shattering the wood some more. It doesn't help the anger, so I find whatever is at my feet and fling it against the walls. Over and over, I continue to do this until the rage begins to settle, and I catch my breath.

My bikes!

I race out to the garage and throw open the door. Each one of my three bikes is tipped over and smashed. I don't enter the room. I can't. The anger is too much, and I need to get the f.u.c.k out of here now.

I don't bother locking the place up; there's nothing for anyone to steal.

I hop on my bike and ride. I try to clear my thoughts, but this time, the ride doesn't help. The fury trembling through me is too much, way too f.u.c.king much. I want to kill the b.i.t.c.h. I will kill the b.i.t.c.h.

Winding down the road, I head toward the clubhouse, which is now one of the only things I own that isn't torn or broken.

My heart constricts painfully as a stinging comes through both arms. I can't breathe. I can't get oxygen into my lungs. What the f.u.c.k is happening?

My vision blurs as I pull the clutch and release the throttle, shifting down. Suddenly, blackness invades me, which is a good thing when my bike smashes to the pavement.

"MOM!" TANNER RUSHES into the apartment, tears lining her face, which instantly puts me on high mom alert.

"What?"

"It's ... Cam." She sniffles and shakes her head, sucking in a deep breath. I see the moment her spine stiffens, and all the strength that belongs to my Tanner comes into place. "It's Dagger. He's in the hospital. It's bad. We need to go."

Tanner races around the room as I sit there, momentarily in shock. She slips on my shoes and pulls me to my feet just as I snap back to reality.

"What happened?" I ask as she pushes me out the door, holding her purse and mine.

"Car," she orders, putting me in and strapping me like I'm a child, which maybe I am in this moment because I feel a bit lost.

Tanner throws the car into gear, and I hang on to the door for support.

"Talk, Tanner," I tell her curtly.

"Rhys said the doctors think he had a heart attack, but he was riding his bike at the time."

I close my eyes as tears fall from them, and my heart peels layers away from it, broken. No. s.h.i.t, no.

"It's bad, Mom. He had a helmet on, which helped, but he was going too fast when he laid out the bike."

"What else?" I ask, my voice low, my stomach already twisting and turning. I'm pretty sure I'm on the verge of throwing up.

Tanner sniffles again, and I snap to her. I didn't even think. s.h.i.t. I move my hand to her thigh and begin rubbing it up and down.

"Baby, it will all be okay. Let's just get there and find out what's going on." I try to rea.s.sure her. She nods and I lay my head back on the seat.

He can't die. He can't. I just found him again.

Entering the hospital, the stench of dread fills me with each step I take. As we walk down the long, white corridor, the lights are too bright; everything is too bright. Tanner continues to lead me while I follow wordlessly. We enter a large room where Dagger's brothers and their women stand in wait.

Tanner heads straight to Rhys who engulfs her in his arms. Her head rests on his chest as Rhys's eyes close, telling me he needs her just as much as she needs him.

A soft hand comes to my arm, and I turn to see Ma, who gives me her warmth. I take it with her soft words in my ear.

"What's happening?" I pull back, looking at the room. The solemn faces aren't giving me any encouragement.

Pops comes up, pulling Ma in his arms. "He's in surgery. They have to get a stint in his heart to open a closed artery. Not only that, but he broke his left arm, and they have to go in and repair that." He shakes his head, almost seeming lost in his thoughts. "He's got a h.e.l.l of a road burn, and they believe he has a concussion. We just have to wait."

Wait. Oh, that's easier said than done.

Tanner wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. This is not how this was supposed to go. Not that I had any sort of plan, but him getting hurt was not on that list at all.

"FAMILY OF CAMERON Wagner." A man in a green scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck comes out and looks around the room.

I rise to my feet as the brothers and their women do, too. I tug Tanner close to me, holding her hand for support.

The doctor takes us all in then clears his throat. "Mr. Wagner?"

"Dagger," Rhys says, making the doctor jump, eye him, and then swallow.

"Mr. Dagger. We put the stint in his heart and found no damage, which is excellent. We had to put a metal rod next to his bone." He points to his arm just above his wrist. "It is casted and will remain that way for six weeks. He also has several abrasions to his legs, chest, arms, and face. Those, we treated and are giving him antibiotics."

"So, he's okay?" I ask as Tanner squeezes my hand.

"We need to keep an eye on his brain and make sure the swelling goes down from the concussion. Other than that, he's a very, very lucky man."

I let out a deep breath then gasp in air. I guess I forgot to breathe there for a bit.

"Can I see him?" I ask.

"Are you his wife?"

I stand there, stunned a moment by the question.

"Yes, she is, and I'm his daughter," Tanner says from beside me, helping me out. I love that girl.

"Give us a couple of hours. He's still very heavily sedated from surgery. We'll come and get you." He gives us a soft smile.

Pops steps forward with his arm outstretched, and the doctor takes it. "Thank you, sir," he says as the other brothers go up one by one and shake the man's hand.

Apprehension creeps in the doctor's eyes, but he holds strong as he turns around and leaves.

I sit back in the chair and hold my head in my hands. I'm too old for this s.h.i.t. I love him, and I'm going to tell him that as soon as I see him. I'm done wasting time.

RHYS HOLDS ME as we wait for word on Dagger, my father, a man I really know nothing about. That is something that is going to change as soon as he's out of here. h.e.l.l, while he's in here. I'll start when I see him. There's no way in h.e.l.l I want to go the rest of my life having a father and not knowing anything about him: what his favorite food is or color-anything.

My mom is much better now that the doctor has come out. She was trembling there for a bit and starting to scare me. Now she smiles, and the worry lines have softened a bit. Ma sits next to her as they chat. I'm happy for her. She really didn't have many "girlfriends" back home. She needs this.

I look around at all the people who obviously love and care for my father, and my heart swells. I've only ever had my mother, and seeing, watching, talking to everyone makes this a little easier.

"Mr. Wagner?" a woman in scrubs says, her eyes growing wide as she looks at the paper. "I mean, Mr. Dagger's family." She finally looks up. She doesn't even bat an eye to all of us coming toward her, as if she was warned. Wonder if it told her on the paper.

"Mrs. Dagger?" she asks my mother who nods. "He is still a bit out of it, but you may go back and see him."

"And my daughter?" Mom says, turning to me.

The nurse's gaze hits mine. "It's only supposed to be one, but if one of you leaves pretty quickly, then I'll allow it."

I nod in agreement. I just want to see him physically and know that he's still here on the planet with us.

Rhys kisses my forehead, and then I grab Mom's hand before walking to see my father.

The room is filled with beeping machines making all kinds of different pitched noises. He has tubes coming out of one of his arms, the other in a cast against his chest. Wires come out of every place on his body. His bandana is gone, but his hair is still in its long braid. He has an oxygen mask over his lips and is breathing slowly in and out. The side of his face has bandages on it.

My mother gives me a soft squeeze as the nurse leads us closer.

"Remember, only a few minutes," the nurse tells us, and I nod.

Mom touches Dagger's leg in the one spot that looks like he isn't covered with some type of bandage. Knowing I only have a few minutes, I move to his side.

I lean down and kiss the top of his head gently. "Get better, Dad," I whisper. I then hug Mom and leave the room, tears stinging my eyes. I don't wait; I barge directly into Rhys, and he takes all of my weight as I sob into his shirt.

AFTER A QUICK NAP, we head back up to the hospital. Dagger is doing well, and the docs say his brain is good. I have to disagree with that, but he's better.

As I enter his room, Dagger's eyes lock on mine. This is the first chance I've had to come in and see him since everything happened. From his set eyes and the anger pouring out of them, I know we need to have a small chat alone.

After Tanner and her father talk for a while, I tell her I need to talk with him. She eyes me suspiciously yet leaves the room. Then I take the chair next to the bed.