Arrow's Hell Read online

  When I look at Reid, I find him still watching me. I glance at Arrow, and I can almost see the moment when he comes to the conclusion that I must be fucking Reid. I look away from him and scan the faces of the other men.

  “There’s a million other bars you could be in right now,” I say to them, wiping my hands on a tea towel.

  Tracker smiles widely, blue eyes sparkling. “And miss this great customer service? Hell, no. I’ll have a beer, Anna Bell.”

  He has his blond hair tied back in a way that I can’t help but find attractive. “Loving the man bun by the way,” I tell him.

  He smirks. “I thought you would.”

  I’d been going on about a certain sexy model who rocks a beard and a man bun. And tattoos.

  Hot!

  “What would the rest of you like?” I ask, feeling Arrow’s eyes on me.

  “Whiskey,” Arrow says as he turns from me and glances around the bar. Irish and Vinnie order beers as well. I’ve met Irish once or twice, but I’ve never really had a conversation with him. He’s a good-looking man, with dark hair and eyes and scars that only add to his appeal. I get the beers first, then pour Arrow his whiskey and slide the glass over to him.

  “Put it on our tab,” Arrow says, then clears his throat. “Please.”

  My eyes flare. Did he just say please? Because of our conversation this afternoon? I nod and flash him a small smile before heading to the opposite side of the bar to serve other customers. I see Reid chatting with Arrow, the two of them laughing about something. When everyone is served, I walk to the tables and collect the glasses, piling as many as I can without dropping them. I carry them to the back, almost running into Tag, another guy who works here.

  “Need some help?” he asks, eyeing the huge stack.

  “No, I’ve got this. But thanks,” I reply, smiling up at him. “You can man the bar though.”

  He smiles crookedly. “Already giving out orders, hmmmm?”

  “What? Trust me, you haven’t seen me take control yet.” I smirk, giving him a wink for good measure.

  He laughs loudly, shakes his head, and walks to the bar. I stack the glasses next to the sink, then tidy up the station before returning out front. I watch as Arrow sips his drink, his gaze never leaving me.

  “Slow day at the office?” I ask, leaning my elbows down in the bar.

  He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Have to babysit you, so thought I might as well have a drink while I do it.”

  My smile drops. “You don’t have to babysit me, you only have to pick me up. Two hours from now, might I add. And where’s Rake?”

  “Out,” he replies. “I told you he’s on a run.”

  “On a run with who?” I ask, watching as Arrow licks some whiskey off his full, firm lips.

  My mouth suddenly feels parched.

  I turn to Tracker, much safer territory. “Want another beer?”

  “Yes, please,” he replies, sliding his empty bottle to me. “Where’s Lana tonight?”

  “On a date,” I reply, not looking up.

  “With who?” he asks quietly. “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”

  I reach down to the fridge and pull out another beer before I answer. “She wasn’t. Now she is.”

  She wasn’t, not really. Some guy asked her out and she was forcing herself to go, determined to forget Tracker—but he didn’t need to know that.

  A group of women walk in, about six of them. Only two are beautiful, but I see the men around me staring at all of them. Must be the cheerleader effect in action. Irish calls two women over—the good-looking ones, of course—and one instantly sits on his lap, the other on Vinnie’s. I look to Arrow and raise a brow, wondering when he is going to get his man-whore on like the rest of them. When Tracker pulls a middling blonde onto his lap, I judge him.

  Hard.

  “Tracker—”

  “Not your business, Anna,” Arrow cuts in. I snap my mouth shut and glare at Arrow, but still can’t ignore what Tracker’s doing. I don’t even like Allie—you could actually say I hated her—but if you don’t want a woman, or a man, you end it with them. You don’t cheat. There’s no honor or loyalty in cheating. Just don’t be with that person if you’re not happy—it’s as simple as that. I’ve been cheated on before, and it hurts. There’s a moment, if only for an instant, when you wonder what you didn’t have that the cheater felt the need to seek elsewhere. I had that moment. Then, when my self-respect kicked in seconds later, I realized it wasn’t my fault but his. I wasn’t the one being disloyal for whatever reason; I’m more honest than that.

  I walk away from Tracker and his new friend, who is now straddling him, and stand at the opposite side of the bar. If Tracker ever mans up, dumps Allie, and goes after Lana, there is no way in hell I’m going to be on his side when I see him acting like this. I get drinks for a few rowdy women out for a divorce party, then grit my teeth as I watch the divorcée herself strut over to Arrow after a few shots of liquid courage. I lean back on the bar, cross my arms over my chest, and watch the show.

  I need to remind myself that Arrow is not and never will be the man for me.

  SEVEN

  SHE runs her hand down his shoulder, and it’s then I notice none of the men are wearing their cuts. I look away as Arrow whispers something into the woman’s ear, unable to keep my eyes on him any longer. Why did I have to have these feelings for him? It would be so much easier if I didn’t. If I could see him like I do Tracker, almost like family.

  “You okay?” Reid asks as he stands next to me. I have to look up to see his eyes; the man is tall. Maybe even as tall as Arrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply, wiping the bar top to keep my hands busy.

  “Because I’m not stupid,” he replies quietly, nodding in greeting at a customer who walks in.

  I look up at Reid’s handsome face. “It’s just a little crush.”

  Maybe if I keep saying it, I will believe it myself.

  I say it softly, so no one else can hear. “You repeat it and I’ll deny it.”

  Reid chuckles, then sobers. “You’re a smart girl.”

  “A scientist,” I add, grinning. “But where are you going with this?”

  “A scientist,” he repeats with a nod. “I’m not good at giving advice or anything, but, Anna, as a man, I can tell he has it bad for you. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

  “With what?”

  “With what I just told you,” he says, looking agitated. “You sure you’re a scientist?”

  “About as positive as I am that you’re a jerk¸” I shoot back.

  He grins. “Pretty positive then, huh?”

  “It seems that way.”

  “You talk to all your bosses like this?” he teases.

  “No, Reid, I’m saving all my charm for you.”

  Reid sighs. “I thought you might say that. You remind me of my sister, Sephie, sometimes.”

  “Sephie?” What the fuck kind of name was that?

  “Persephone,” he explains.

  “Oh, does she ever come in here? I’d like to meet her.”

  Reid touches the scar on his cheek absently. “Sometimes. She’s on vacation right now in Scotland. But when she’s back she’s usually here harassing me and Ryan.”

  “She sounds great,” I reply instantly.

  “I think I have something that might cheer you up, by the way,” he announces, grinning. I watch as he walks to the fridge and opens the door.

  “What?” I ask, following him and peering into it.

  All lined up in a row were four bottles of blackberry juice.

  “For me?” I ask, smiling widely.

  He nods. “For you.”

  “Reid,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a quick hug. “Thank you. I can’t believe you remembered!”

  He starts to respond but stops when Arrow materializes in front of us.

  “Summer know you’re flirting with other women when she’s not around?” Arrow asks, a muscle w
orking in his jaw.

  Reid scowls. “Summer knows I’d never do that, and I’m allowed to talk to my employees.”

  He gives me a look I can’t interpret and walks off, leaving me with an angry-looking Arrow.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I don’t like you working here,” he grits out.

  “So?”

  “So? Men have been staring at your ass and tits all night, and I’m sick of it. I’m gonna have a talk with your brother because he sure as hell won’t like it either.”

  “I can’t help it if men stare at me!”

  He looks down at my chest. “Maybe cover up a little more?”

  I look down at my top, which is a V-neck but hardly revealing. “What do you want me to wear? A turtleneck?”

  He nods. “I think that’s a fuckin’ fantastic idea.”

  He was insane.

  Certifiably insane.

  I tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear and lean my face closer to his. “This is my life. You don’t get to control it. Who are you to me, Arrow? My brother’s friend and my babysitter. Nothing more and nothing less. How dare you tell me what to wear. I’m not even dressed slutty, and it’s not illegal to show a tiny bit of cleavage!”

  He stares at me for a moment, the air around us thick with tension. Finally he takes a step back and says, “You know what, you’re absolutely right.”

  I watch as he walks up to Tracker, tells him something, and then leaves the bar. But he doesn’t leave alone. He grabs Miss Divorced on his way out, making sure to palm her ass so everyone can see. I make a sound deep in my throat, unable to mask the hurt, ignoring the curious stares from the other bikers. What did I expect? I pushed him and now he is going to fuck another woman. Maybe this was for the best? Maybe it would make it easier for me to forget him and move on, because I’m certainly not one to share.

  I force a smile and continue serving drinks for the rest of the night, trying to push Arrow out of my mind.

  And failing.

  A million questions are running through my head, a million different scenarios.

  Did he take her back to the clubhouse?

  Is she staying the night?

  Was he touching her right now?

  Apparently I liked to torture myself.

  When two a.m. hits it’s time for me to go home.

  “Let’s go, Anna Bell,” Tracker calls out. I look to Reid, who nods his head, so I clock out and grab my handbag, then walk up to Tracker.

  “I’m ready,” I tell him, biting the inside of my cheek as he pats his companion on the ass.

  “You okay to ride?” I ask him, not wanting to get on the bike with him if he is drunk.

  “I had two beers,” he replies. “I’m fine.”

  I bite my bottom lip but nod my head.

  “You got something to say to me?” he asks quietly, tilting his head to the side. “Come on, Anna Bell. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I ask, brows furrowing.

  “Like I just told you your dog is dead,” he replies, pulling on my ponytail gently.

  I shrug.

  “Not like you to hold back,” he murmurs, studying me.

  “Okay,” I start. “Out of all the men I know, I thought you were the good one. Yes, slightly stupid, but the best one. Now I’m not so sure. I need to reassess the situation.”

  He blinks. “Did you just call me slightly stupid?”

  I smirk at him. “You’re with Allie, aren’t you?”

  Tracker shakes his head. “You better not be talking like this to any of the other men—they won’t take your shit. Lucky for you, I consider us friends.”

  He emphasizes the word friends, as in, I’m not acting like much of one right now. I step forward and lay my head on his chest. “I don’t like cheaters.”

  “Not your business. You know the rules. And I didn’t cheat. You didn’t see my dick out, now did you?”

  I slap at his arm. “No need to be so crude.”

  “Anna, you need to get used to this shit, I’m not gonna lie. This life isn’t always pretty, but it is what it is, and we don’t judge each other. So I don’t need your judgment right now, all right? You don’t even like Allie, why you giving me a hard time?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re right; it’s not my place to judge,” I reply, looking down.

  He lifts my chin up. “I love you like a sister, Anna. Just don’t give me any shit, all right? I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you.”

  “Then why are you?” I find myself asking.

  He smiles then, a small lift of his mouth. “Because you’re one of my favorite women in my life.”

  I lift my gaze to his. “Okay, I’m backing off. It’s just that . . .”

  “What?”

  “What if one day you and Lana get together, then . . .”

  His eyes widen in realization. “That’s why you’re upset! Not because of what I was doing, but because one day you think I could be doing that to Lana.”

  I nod. “I guess so. I’m judging you on the standards I would use on someone who was dating my best friend. I shouldn’t, I know, but that was why.”

  He leans down and kisses my forehead. “If I had a woman as good as Lana, sweetie, I wouldn’t fuck it up. I promise you that much.”

  I smile. “Thank you for telling me that, Tracker.”

  “You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” he whispers.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “There’s some tension between you and Arrow, what’s that about?”

  I purse my lips. “Nothing’s happening there. Didn’t you see him leave with that woman?”

  “Yes,” he replies. “I saw that. I also saw your face as he did it. You looked crushed.”

  I cover my face with my hands. “Was I that obvious? Great, now everyone knows.”

  He pulls my hands from my face. “No one knows shit; I was watching you closely.”

  “Don’t say anything, Tracker,” I plead.

  “Hey, no judgment from me, Anna Bell. Just be careful, all right?”

  “I’m taking Anna home,” comes a rumbly voice from behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  I thought he left.

  I sigh into Tracker’s chest, then turn around and look at Arrow. “Back so soon? I thought you’d be spending the night with your guest.”

  His mouth tightens but he stays silent. Tracker touches my back, rubbing it gently.

  I suddenly feel drained and just want to get home to my bed.

  “Whoever is taking me, can we please go? I’m tired and I have to get up early to study,” I say softly, rubbing my upper arms.

  Arrow steps forward, pulling me closer to his body. He takes my arm and leads me to his bike as I say my good-bye to Tracker and wave to Vinnie and Irish—who aren’t going home alone.

  The ride home is a little tense, for a reason that I can’t pinpoint. I shouldn’t feel anything for Arrow, and he could bed whomever he wanted—I had no claim on him. I don’t know why he came back; I guess he feels a sense of responsibility over me. I’m going to have a talk with Rake and tell him that as much as I appreciate his concern, this shit has to stop. I don’t need a group of men keeping an eye on my every move. What if I wanted to go home with someone? I’m old enough to do as I please. I want them to see me as an equal, not someone they have to look after. If Rake won’t give in to that, I’m going to ask for anyone except Arrow to pick me up.

  That’s going to be an awkward conversation.

  As we pull up at my house I murmur a thank-you and get off the bike as quickly as it comes to a standstill, but Arrow doesn’t let me get away that easily. To my surprise, he slides off his bike and pulls me to him. Taking the helmet from my hands, he leans down and stares into my eyes.

  “Fuck,” he whispers.

  “What?”

  “This is a bad idea.”

  “What is?” I ask, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I can’t
think straight with him being so close to me.

  Then, catching me off guard, he grazes his lips against mine. Subtly at first, a chaste kiss. A sweet kiss. But then that kiss changes.

  And I become lost.

  Arrow is kissing me.

  I can’t count how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment.

  How much I wanted it, and now it was mine.

  Sucking on my upper lip and then my lower lip, his tongue begs entrance. I open my mouth to him, inviting him in, giving him everything he wants and more. His fingers grip my nape, and mine rest on his biceps. I knew it would be like this with him—passionate. Hungry. Greedy.

  I knew it.

  And now that I’ve tasted it, I want to keep it.

  He pulls away much too soon for my liking, his gaze lowered onto my mouth.

  I take a step back, shocked by what happened, but he reaches for me.

  “Need to tell you something,” he says, grabbing my wrist firmly yet gently.

  “What?” I whisper, looking up at him. The moonlight shines on his face, and he seems to be searching for the right words to say.

  “I’m not the man for you,” he says quietly. “I’m not a good man, and I’m not saying that I’m bad, but . . . I’m bad for you.”

  “Then why did you just kiss me?” I ask.

  I should feel embarrassed about his acknowledging that he knows I like him, but I’m grateful for his candor. This needs to be out in the open no matter what the outcome.

  “I needed to kiss you, even if it was just once,” he replies as he strokes my cheek. “I’m a selfish fuck.”

  “I know you did time,” I blurt out. “Is that what this is about? You being in prison?”