Chapter 7 - Cole

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After wrapping ice packs and taping them around my knuckles I leave the gym. Punching that bag until it broke only left my knuckles busted up and didn't diminish my anger.

Time to ride and clear my head.

All my mind keeps replaying is her talking to her brother. That preppy douche of a husband yelled at her, wanted her to be his trophy wife. She's so much more than that. How could she even let him do that? Obviously, she's not the same person I left here.

She was so spunky, so fiesty and independent. She glowed when she broke and bent rules but focused hard on life and school knowing she wanted to make something productive and professional come from her hard work.

She looks the same, smells the same but her glow isn't the same. It's dull. Even when she was angry pushing me the fire she always had behind her eyes was barely there. She's not the same and I can only be mad at myself. I left her, broke her, even if it wasn't my choice. I would never purposely hurt her. I tried to tell her that last night but couldn't. I just wanted to feel her one last time.

So now I ride. I turn down backroads and let loose on the throttle when I know the road stretches straight long enough to get that rush before I drop to take corners too fast. I just need to feel the wind, the speed, the rush. Center my mind.

I walk into the clubhouse. "Prez, beat Nick's ass today or what?" Gunner says.

Taking a look at my knuckles. The ice helped a bit but they are still bruised and cut up.

"No."

"I need to take someone out then?"

"No"

"What crawled up your ass man?"

"Go away Gunner." I speak walking through the house. He should back off but that's never Gunner's style.

"Is it that blonde chick? You know her or something?" That makes me stop in my tracks and grab Gunner by his jacket

"Don't talk about her. Don't look at her. Don't fucking go near her. And do fucking not ever bring her up to me again." I growl out between clenched teeth.

"Okay man. Sorry." Gunner tosses his hands up in defense.

I drop Gunner and head down to see Tech. I need to know why she's back.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Tech pipes out from his computers.

"Need a favor. A very fucking quiet favor."

He nods. "Name?"

"Ellianna Turner-Walton."

Tech turns to me and I shoot him a glare that makes him turn around and start typing. "Anything specific?"

"When and why she came back here."

"Give me a bit. I'll text when I get something."

"Not. A. Fucking. Word. Tech." I growl out as I head out of the basement and back up to the top floor where the officer suites and my room is.

We built this place when we came here. We may have stolen a bit to fund it but it was stolen from some shady drug dealing, human trafficking scumbags of MCs.

Top floor like the rest of the clubhouse is modern and clean with a touch of a softer rustic vibe that Beck insisted we needed so it didn't look like a straight up bachelor pad. All of the officer suites have their own bathroom, mine and Gunners are on opposite corners of the floor and are the largest suites with two sets of large windows on each wall looking over the property.

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