Romeo’s green eyes became flat and as unreadable as stone as he
stepped closer to her. His voice dropped levels, taking on a near threatening
tone. “He’s not allowed to wear colors, or technically even live around colors.
He cannot participate in anything club while on house arrest.”
Thorne wrapped her arms about her, cocooning herself from
the verbal onslaught by Romeo. “I’m the furthest thing away from club.” She
swallowed the sour taste in her mouth, knowing she had been defeated in a game
that she wasn’t meant to play.
“Exactly. I’m sure that you won’t even realize he’s there.”
Those were always famous last words.
Chapter Four
It was hard to pack for three months. What exactly was he
supposed to pack? The whole apartment and give up his lease? Three months was a
fucking long time to pay for an apartment he wasn’t using. Apollo was just glad
that he hadn’t been placed in some halfway house, among the real degenerates.
It wasn’t like he had a ton of shit to pack up anyway. After
Gabrielle left and took everything but the kitchen sink with her, he never
bothered refurnishing the place. He had what he needed, that was enough.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Apollo glanced around the
bleak apartment that was now empty except for a few boxes to be put into
storage and the luggage that he would take to Thorne’s.
His breathing was slow and even; a heavy weight pressed on
his shoulders as he stared at the front door. Tomorrow, they’d slap on his ball
and chain, and he’d be tethered to Thorne’s house for ninety days. Could be
worse, right? He could be in jail, praying he didn’t drop the soap.
He reached toward the counter to grab his cup of coffee,
since alcohol was now forbidden—and he would have really love a fucking beer.
He let out a tragic sigh, which was interrupted by a knock on his door.
Brows furrowed as he stepped over to the front door and
swung it open. He let out another heavy sigh, combined with a bitter smile. The
sight of the female who was standing before him made him give a slight, almost
unseen, shake of his head—it took everything he had not to groan in
displeasure.
“What do you want, Gabby?”
She must have taken that as her cue to come in, because she
swept past him with a regal air about her. Gabrielle Velasquez was the epitome
of beauty, and the daughter of the president of the TGMC. Apollo and Gabby had
been high school sweethearts through all four years of school, and even into
college. Unfortunately, her vanity and the fact that her father was in the
rival club, were kinks in the armor of life.
She stood statuesque, despite her average height. Everything
about Gabrielle spelled spoiled to the core, and Apollo hadn’t helped matters
when they were together. He was a love-sick puppy, seeing only tits and pussy,
but hey, he had an excuse, he had been sixteen and was itching to get his dick
wet.
Her dark-chocolate eyes were framed by lashes so thick that
one would think they were fake. Café au lait skin belied her Latino heritage,
though her jet-black silken waves suggested otherwise. She had been popular in
school, won beauty pageants galore, was head cheerleader and, of course,
president of the senior class. To top it all off, she had also won the Elks
Rodeo Queen contest, which vaulted her popularity up the chain and covered up
the fact that her father was an outlaw, piece-of-shit biker.
Guess it helped being raised by her mother.
“Don’t look so upset to see me, mamey .” Gabrielle
flicked a sidelong glance in his general direction as she lazily dragged her
finger tips along the kitchen island top. “I was just coming to check on you. I
miss you.”
Apollo tried not to cringe at the term of endearment she had
just tossed his way. She used him like a trophy wife and he was far from her
bitch. That was the reason he had left her. She was too high maintenance, and
well…a bitch. Something had changed in her when she met her