Chapter 2 ~ Becoming Friends
“Jakobe, people call me, Trigger.” His voice was deep, masculine even, and the sound purred hypnotically across my eardrums, it forced me to suck in a sharp breath, but then I winced with pain.
“Jakobe, huh?” I repeated.
“Jakobe Sloan, you should be careful, you’ve broken three ribs,” he motioned forward to help set me up properly.
“Thank you,” Jakobe’s aftershave of musk, smelt divine when he came close.
“You’ve been out for three days - I brought your bags from the car.” My view flicked over to the door, then felt a wave of sadness wash through me. “What is your name?” He asked.
“Priya, Priya Anthony.”
“Well Priya, we brought your car here, the day before yesterday - it looks like you were taking a long drive?”
“Um... sure, yep, long drive,” I nodded, accepting that explanation.
He quirked his left brow, “were you not taking a long drive?”
“What makes you think I was taking a long drive?”
“The amount of takeaway containers in your car.” I thought about his answer for a bit, that was actually a pretty smart assumption.
“Huh,” I confirmed to myself. “That’s actually a clever assumption, but no, I wasn’t taking a long drive, at least not at the beginning.” Jakobe Sloan came and sat next to me on the bed.
“You have bound marks on your wrists?” I stayed quiet, nibbling my bottom lip, he seemed to notice my reserved behaviour, could I trust him? “You don’t have to tell me, I’m just glad I found you.”
“So, when do you want me gone?” Jakobe gave me an odd look.
“You can’t go anywhere until you’re healed.”
“That’s not exactly what I asked - you’re wearing clothes that represent something, I would presume a bikie to wear, and your leather vest is covered in patches. I take it you are not in the business of saving damsels in distress?”
He flashed me a crooked smile, “no, I am not in that line of work.” I couldn’t help but simper back at him, Jakobe was cute, short black hair combed back, beautiful deep chocolate brown eyes - he was covered from neck to hip in ink, well, the ink I could see, and tattoo’s my eyes shamefully perused. Not to discount the nipple rings, belly button ring, lip ring and a nose ring. Talk about every woman’s wet dream. Not forgetting the heavenly muscular structure all of that erotic wetness rested upon, and a purposefully worn five o’clock shadow on his strong jawline. He adorned large bulky rings on each finger that made me think they were put there for a purpose, perhaps to do damage when connecting with someone’s face?
“So Jakobe Sloan, when do you want me gone?”
“You can’t go anywhere until you are healed, Priya Anthony,” I smirked at his wit, “let’s just focus on getting you better?”
“Thank you.” We became absorbed, locked in each other’s eyes as my temperature rose, when there was a light knocking at the door.
“Come in,” he said.
“Hey Trig, I came to see if you wanted me to bathe her?”
In walks a young girl, no more than high school age, with a large bowl in her hands, her eyes trained on the floor as she slowly and carefully stepped.
“I think she requires help?” He suggested, looking back at me as I watched on curiously.
This young woman placed the bowl on the dresser, then breathed triumphantly as if mentally praising herself for not spilling anything. “Okay, but I’m gonna... oh my god, you’re awake?” She exclaimed.
“Hello,” I smiled.
“Hello, you look like shit, but at least you’re alive, right?” I blushed ferociously. Here am I, eye raping the sexy bikie when I look like death.
“Kitty,” Jakobe growled.
“Sorry Trig. I’m Kitty, Prez’ little sister, you are?” She was a pretty young thing, golden-brown eyes and long brown hair, absolutely no social filter.
“Horrified actually, do I really look that awful? I’m so sorry,” I tried to smooth down my hair, humiliated by my actions.
Jakobe leaned over and held my wrists in place, “don’t, you look beautiful, even roughed up.” His comment made me shy, how could he think I looked beautiful after what Frazier had done to me? I couldn’t open one eye, and my body ached like it had been stomped on several times, it felt as though daggers sliced my side every time I breathed, and I could feel the bruising covering my entire body.
“You don’t have too, I know I must look...”
“Beautiful,” Jakobe cut me off.
“So, are we just going to call you beautiful or do you actually have a name?” I couldn’t help but laugh at Kitty’s sharp-witted interruption, then keel over in jarring agony.
“Don’t make me laugh,” I pleaded.
“Her name is Priya, Kitty.”
“Naw, that’s a super cute name, like a princess...” she snorted loudly, “Princess Priya.” My Dad used to call me that nickname, but I didn’t dare voice it.
I observed her with a broad smile, she was carefree and unrestrained. “Kitty,” Jakobe growled again, “just feed her the damn soup will you.” He focused on me, “I’ll be back in a minute to help you to the bathroom, Kitty can get you undressed and washed, I need to see Prez.”
I smiled as Jakobe left his bedroom, “I could be wrong, but he looks sweet on you?” Kitty blurts out.
“He’s just polite,” I chastised her, but she ignored me.
“Hmm, yes, polite,” Kitty rolled her eyes sarcastically, making quotation marks with her fingers at the word ‘polite’. “Trigger isn’t polite to anyone, he fucks the club whores but always returns to his room alone. In fact, in the whole time, I’ve known him, I have never seen him let anyone into his room until you... and he certainly doesn’t talk nice to females, except mum and me... huh, and now you.”
“Kitty, I think you are reading way too much into this, Jakobe is simply a gentleman. He saved my life, and I owe him - big time, so how about we eat? Because I’m starving, and then you can help me shower, I take it you’ve been cleaning me?” She nods her head dramatically.
“Trig would always leave the room while mum and I washed you, mum should be here...” the door burst open, “now.”
“You’re awake?” A beautiful older lady with matching eyes and hair to Kitty’s had come flying through the door.
“It would seem so, I take it I have you and your daughter to thank?” The older woman plopped down beside me, making herself comfortable as though I hadn’t just met her.
“We were so worried, you were out for so long.”
“I’m sorry I worried you.”
“Never mind, as long as you are awake. Now, do you have a name, or shall we keep calling you, ‘the girl’?” Her attitude made me laugh, she was identical to her daughter.
“I’m rather fond of ‘the girl’, perhaps we could start with a new name?” I teased.
“Her name is Princess Priya mum, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say Trig is sweet on her.”
“Really, Kitty? Well isn’t that a happy turn of events,” she clapped her hands and flashed Kitty a mischievous look.
These two are adorable.
After my soup, Jakobe returned as he said he would, and helped me to the bathroom. That’s when I noticed how horrifyingly see thru my white gown was, why had no one bothered to tell me? Jakobe would have been able to see everything. Is it terrible that I like that he could see everything? Yes, yes it is, and I should be focusing on getting better, not, how absolutely gorgeous my saviour is.
With a fluffy towel wrapped around me, after being thoroughly washed, shaved and plucked from head to toe by Kitty and her mum, whose name I finally found out was Aja, Jakobe lifted me back into his bed that had been freshly changed. He placed my bags on top of the covers and asked me to take out what I needed.
They were all so caring, I wondered what I had done to deserve such kindness? No requiring continuous appreciation, shushed or fobbed off when I tried, despite my feeling the need to express thanks, they simply continued, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Once I was dressed in an actual bra and knickers, in my sweats and long-sleeved pyjama top, I felt a lot better. I braided my long auburn hair, and before I put the mirror back, I drastically assessed myself, scrutinising the bruising and swelling. My forest green orb absorbed the horrific sight - my eye was the worst, Frazier had really done a number on me this time. I sadly turned, putting the mirror back in my makeup case.
“Why do you look so crushed?” Jakobe curiously asked.
“I really do look awful, don’t I?” I lifted the blankets up to my chest.
“It will take a while before you are yourself again, but no, you look beautiful, I’ve definitely seen worse.” Jakobe was all kinds of pure sweetness, but I suspected this was just one side to him.
“You don’t even know me, yet you offer a compliment so freely?” Jakobe methodically arranged my belongings in his wardrobe, I say nothing about it and just watch him work. I wasn’t sure if he realised he was moving me in after a day of knowing him, even though I have been here for longer, technically, I was asleep.
“I don’t have to know you, I’m following my intuition,” he scans the room for somewhere to put my underwear and socks, becoming more flustered the longer he held them. Jakobe decided on the drawer his socks were in, moving his completely out and placing mine in. Satisfied with his positioning of my undergarments, he moves to the recliner beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“How are you feeling?” I surveyed him with a playful sparkle in my eye.
“I’m fine, why?” A grin explodes onto my face.
“You do realise you just moved me into your room, right?” But he just shrugs.
“You’ll be here for a few weeks, might as well make you comfortable.”
“And yet, I have been in relationships that offered less commitment.” Jakobe did not find my jest as funny as I did; maybe I had said something that struck a chord? “Who is the boy you have around your room?” I hoped my quick change in topic removed the frown from off of his very handsome face, and I held my breath.
He smiles, success, “that is my son, Leighton.”
“How young were you when you had him?” I thought it was his brother, not his son and practically screeched at him in surprise.
“His mother and I were fifteen when we had him.”
“Holy shit, how have you managed to stay sane?” He examined me incredulously.
“What the hell do you mean?”
“Sorry, it was just... well, I’m twenty-eight, and I can barely take care of myself, how did you manage with a kid, being a kid yourself?”
“The mother’s parents kept me away, I was allowed visitation every second Saturday and every Wednesday for four hours. When I met Deon, the club President, and his family, they helped me get more visitations and establish a solid foundation with my boy. Deon’s father Rex, really took me under his wing when my own parents tossed me aside; Rex showed me how to be a father.”
“So, Rex is Kitty’s Dad?”
“And... if... Deon is President... what does that make you?” I gauged his reaction carefully.
“You know I’m not supposed to talk to outsiders, right?” I laughed.
“I’m not an outsider; I’m a disabled person under your care.”
“I am the Vice President.” I was pretty sure all blood drained from my face, he was high up, second from the top in fact, which meant he had access to exclusive information, which meant he may have been privy to information I needed. “You look like you are reconsidering your stay here?”
“Nervous, you’re high up on the food chain,” I bit the inside of my cheek, considering him carefully.
“Does it bother you? Scare you?” Jakobe looked worried watching me fidget and squirm.
“I just know that you don’t get to being in your position without blood on your hands.” Jakobe ran his fingertips along the side of his bearded jaw in thought. His dark facial hair well-manicured and kept short, still attractive, but I was secretly dying to know what he looked like under it.
“And that scares you?”
“Not scares, I can see you are different with me, just...” I swept my loose strands of hair on my forehead back, “I don’t know, it’s kind of... I know dangerous, you don’t seem dangerous?”
“I would never hurt you,” he replies honestly, observing me tensely.
“I believe you.”