Chapter 9

Quickly realizing I was ogling the man, my eyes jerked up from where they'd been taking a leisurely stroll over the bulge beneath his jeans. However, I suddenly found myself sucking in a harsh breath, and taking a small step back when the man under my perusal murmured sarcastically, "So… This is your bitch, Rook?"

Twin flags of anger stained my cheeks red, and my eyes lit with the fire of death. The hell-fire his words lit within me roared into an inferno, and stiffening, my hands balled into fist at my side and I lunged forward. From behind me, Rook groaned, "Oh, shit!" then hastily swooping down, he grabbed me around my thighs, before lifting me off my feet, he regained a standing position.

Twisting me within his arms, he planted me firmly across his broad shoulder, before grabbing the doorknob, he jerked the door open, but not before the words, "What did you just call me, Beast?" spewed from my lips.

Following us inside the clubhouse, the man I had nicknamed Beast, laughed. "Oh, how sweet! Kitty has claws!"

From over Rook's shoulder, I glared at the Beast, and snarled, "Damn straight she does, and given the chance, I'll fuck up that messed up face of yours even further!"

With a smirk curving up the side of his lips, Beast murmured, "Shaken' in my boots, Kitten!"

I could feel Rook hesitate beneath me, then with a shrug and a small shake of his head, he slowly began lowering me to the floor. As my feet touched down, I swiveled in his loosened arms, and before he could get a good grip on me again, I lunged at the insufferable man before me. Neither of them had expected my sudden move, which allowed me to get the jump on Beast.

With my hand forming a fist, I swung out, connecting it with Beast's firm jaw-line, causing him to give a slight stumble back. However, before I could slam my fist into his face again, Rook grabbed my arms, dragging me away, as from behind us, I heard someone shout, "Whoa, Kitty got claws and balls! She just jacked the fuck out of Satan's jaw!"

Legs kicking and arms swinging, I fought Rook to be free as he continued pulling me across the floor. I whipped my head around toward the motley crew of men and women sitting and standing around the bottle and glass strewn tables. My eyes zeroing in on one man in particular, who was more than obvious to me to be the word jester of moments earlier, I snarled, "You want some?" 

Then, never lessening my fight with Rook as he pulled at me, I screeched toward the smirking man who was now backing away. "Where do you think you're going, you shriveled up shit-dick?"

The man merely raised his hands in the air: palms out, he began laughing his ass off.

With a loud swear, Rook hissed at the man, "Jesus Christ, Jax, just shut the fuck up, will ya?" At the same time, he was trying to avoid being hit by my octopus arms and legs. After barely avoiding a wildly flung arm to the face and fist in the stomach, Rook hissed out, "Holy hell, Cookie, calm down!"

I turned in Rook's arms, glaring at him. "Well goddamn, am I supposed to just take their shit?"

Suddenly, I heard a long, drawn out, "Meeeow," quickly followed by a chorus of meows and hisses about the room. Rook to let out another aggravated groan and a muttered, "Oh, fuck, me!" However, I was no longer giving a shit about any of what was occurring around me, as giving an audible gasp, I turned my head toward the man I now knew to be my nemesis…Satan…the club's VP. 

As I stared in his direction, my imagination took flight. My breath froze in my lungs, and I cried silently. No, it can't be! It's not possible! It's. Not. Possible— Is it?

Unable to pull my eyes from Satan, I swept his features again, my heart galloping as it begged for it to be true. Though the scarring on his face was horrendous, the inexplicable draw, and familiarity I'd felt since I'd first gazed at his features, suddenly made sense. Even with the scarring, his features were so strikingly similar to Torin's, they made my heart hurt. Unable to help myself, I breathed achingly, "Torin?"

With his arms wrapped around the woman who had sidled up against him, Satan lowered his head; his lips captured the womans' in a kiss, lingering on them a few seconds. Finally, his hands running down the length of her back and moving onto her ass, he cupped her cheeks, giving them a quick squeeze. Afterward, pulling back a little, he looked in my direction. Gaze hard and eyes impenetrable, he murmured, "Satan, Kitten! My name's Satan."

Shoulders drooping, yet still continuing to gaze at him, I shook my head. "I … it's … you look—" Words abruptly cutting off, I swallowed down the tightness in my throat, then with tears forming in my eyes, and a small muffled sob escaping my mouth, I tried my best to place a tourniquet around the profuse bleeding of my heart. After a few seconds, I softly breathed, "You just...look a lot like someone I… lost."

Gaze still pinned on me, I watched a flicker of something come and go within the depths of Satan's eyes before voice a low growl, he raised an eyebrow, asking, "So, you misplace things often, Kitten?

Everything in me deflated, and in a small broken voice, I whispered, "God, I wish I'd just misplaced him…but…he… he died."