Catching Cole

Chapter Eleven

The week flew by and consisted of mostly work, and Vivienne pestering me about why I wasn't making more of an effort to stay a bit longer and actually see Cole. Her rant was still fresh in my mind. 

"What is the point of being a digital nomad if you can't have some flexibility around your schedule? Just spend the night in England!"   

I knew she was right, but I didn't know how to make sense of what I was feeling for Cole. So until then, I was keeping a bit of a distance. 

Cole had been pretty busy himself this week, with facetime being completely off the table because the man was constantly in meetings. He was brokering some deal for Monday that he needed things to go smoothly. I supposed a billionaire businessman often had his hands full. Did I know he was a billionaire for certain? No, and I certainly wasn't going to ask. But I had heard Jeanette and Dave talk about how much Cole was worth and what a great opportunity it was to have him on board as an investor. 

He still texted me though. In fact the man was in constant contact. I'm fairly certain he had been trying to get me to send him some risky pictures while he was in a meeting. And because I had an inkling that it was a board meeting of some sort, I sent him full blown nudes and a video. Welcome to dating in the 21st century. I found myself smiling and wondering how the hell he handled his hard-on surrounded by suits in a meeting. 

Naturally, Layla had called me this week, screaming about how unfair it was that I didn't inform her of my trip to see Axel. She could be a tad dramatic at the best of times. She somehow worked her schedule in a way that meant she was going to be available for my meet up with Axel. And so the three of us had pegged out plans to meet at Axel's club for drinks and a late lunch. 

Cramming my client and meeting Axel into one day meant that I was forced to catch the red-eye flight. I wore skinny white jeans, brown knee top boots and a warm brown knitted shirt that tended to slide off one of my shoulders. Springtime in England meant it was still freezing. And just to be safe, I lugged my parker with me. If it was somehow magically warmer than I anticipated, I had a tank beneath my knitwear that I could rock, but it was highly doubtful. 

The flight was filled with me going through my prep work for my client. I was freelancing for a music producer who wanted me to storyboard his clients and songwork in a way that highlighted his best work in a way that wasn’t too showy. He was good though, and seemed easy enough to work with. 

As I walked into his office, I could make out his studio to one side. The theme was predominantly red and black. Even the reception desk was black with a high-backed red leather chair - sans receptionist. It should have been kitch, and yet somehow it worked. 

“Sorry,” Hunter (my client) came through apologising, “Margie isn’t in today, so I sometimes forget that I need to step out front occasionally,” he spoke motioning towards the reception desk. 

Hunter was not what I was expecting when I signed up for this project. He had dark hair that was slightly too long, leaving him continuously brushing hair out of his eyes, and smoldering dark eyes. The man was sexy, and yet, he wasn’t Cole. 

I smiled and stretched out my hand in greeting as we set out to work. 

Our meeting flew by and before I knew it I was bidding Hunter goodbye. It wasn’t lost on me on how his hands lingered as we parted. And perhaps, if things were different, I might have pursued it. 

But as it stood, my phone was blowing up with Layla demanding to know where I was. I slid into a taxi, giving the driver the address Axel had texted me. 

“What?” I demanded, as I answered Layla’s call. She was relentless. 

“How far are you?” she demanded. 

“I don’t know Layla, maybe ten minutes?” I directed the last part at the driver. 

“No, no, with this traffic it will be thirty minutes,” he answered. 

“Did you hear that Layla?” 

“Fine,” she groaned, “Just hurry up. They’re making burgers and I’m hungry,” she whined. 

I laughed. Before I finished hanging up, a message from Cole came through. 

C: You my side of the world yet sweetheart? 

My heart fluttered slightly. 

S: Yup. Finished my work meeting and heading to see some friends before flying home. 

I waited a beat before his reply came through. 

C: Heading into my own meeting. Maybe I get lucky and see you before you fly back. 

I was so lost in thought that it took me a full minute to realise that we had pulled up outside the clubhouse. Grey steel doors loomed above us with the Club death head logo stencilled neatly on either side. The club was located in an industrial street of London proper, so it was surrounded by all sorts of businesses. A burly looking guy stood against the wall, judging by the butts littering the floor he was an avid chain spoker. I nodded my head to him in greeting. As a gatekeeper, he was probably one of the most important yet overlooked positions within the club. 

"Hello darling," his voice was low and gruff, "Best get in quickly. Layla's been driving everyone nuts whilst waiting for you." 

I laughed. It did not surprise me in the least that everyone here knew Layla. I thanked him as the gate opened. 

As I stepped over the threshold into club territory, I felt my nervousness overwhelm me. Before I could freeze, Layla bounded towards me and threw her arms around me, reminding me that everything was okay. 

Taking in the open-aired terrace filled with strategically placed tables and benches, it could almost be mistaken for a restaurant. A warm wooden bar stretched across the far side of the wall inside with industrial doors opening onto the terrace. Wooden beams jutted out over the terrace with some leafy type of plants threaded through them, giving the place more of a homely feel. The wooded elements certainly offset the industrial steel look. It was kind of nice. 

I took in the men milling around in their cuts. Two bikers sat at a table shuffling cards, whilst I spotted some others playing a game of darts. Whilst the setting was certainly nicer than the Michigan clubhouse, I smiled as I realised that some things remained unchanged. 

The parking area was littered with bikes. Honestly, I’d expect nothing else. 

Layla watched me take it all in. “It’s great right?” She gushed. 

I nodded as she dragged me over to one of the outdoor tables where Axel sat next to another guy, deep in conversation. 

I hadn’t hung out with Axel in a while, and he seemed to have gotten better looking with time. I took in his cut and his boyish good looks. I could see why the girls fell over themselves for him. But, if I truly examined my feelings for him, there was nothing but sibling affection there, and so I chose to not even try walk down that path any more than we already had, because ultimately Axel would get hurt. 

He stopped talking and looked at me, bursting into a huge grin. 

“Is that a road name on your cut I see?” I joked. 

“Shut up Sadie and come and give me a hug.” 

I walked over and was bundled into his arms, breathing in his leather. Between Axel and Layla, this was home. 

As I pulled back I looked up at him and asked, “Seriously though, what is your road

name?” 

“Please can I tell her!” Layla squelled. 

Instead Axel spun around, allowing me to take in his cut for myself. His road from prospect to being patched in was a difficult one. For a long time he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t going to join a club. I supposed we all wore our scars from what happened in our youth. 

Below the Club logo and London Charter was his road name, etched in beautifully. 

“Ammo?” I questioned. 

“Yeah,” his head dipped. 

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” he shrugged.

He motioned for me to sit down as Layla announced, “Now that you’re here I’m getting a Prosecco”.

“I don’t drink that s**t,” Ammo protested, while I shouted, “I’m in.”

“It’s not for you dummy,” Layla mocked, “It’s for us!” she said motioning between her and myself. 

“Fine, but while you’re at the bar please ask Sarah for two more beers.” 

“Yes sweet brother o’ mine,” Layla said, fluttering her eyelashes and bounded off towards the bar. 

The guys next to Ammo burst into laughter. 

I watched, relaxing into my chair, reminded of times when I was less guarded. 

Ammo introduced the guy next to him as Hammer. He was a Texan boy who moved to England to study and somehow joined the Hell’s Hounds London Charter. Call me biased, but I’m pretty sure his parents weren’t thrilled with his choices. He seemed nice enough though, and while I doubted whether he was up for this lifestyle, the President of this club obviously deemed him worthy, giving him his patch and his road name. 

True to her word, Layla bounded over with two champagne glasses and a bottle of prosecco under her arm. 

We ate burgers, drank prosecco and caught up. Axel seemed to be doing well. This club looked good on him, and I had to give the president kudos for running it so well. I knew there was stuff going on behind the scene that outsiders weren’t privy to, but from where I was sitting it looked like a well-oiled ship. I wondered briefly how Billie was running his club, and I realised that you couldn’t compare the two. My dad had been right, the club wasn’t all bad, we just had a bad run with one deluded biker. 

As I laughed at something ridiculously stupid Hammer had just said I watched in suprise as Harry Po walked out from one of the rooms that led on to the bar. Harry spotted me immediately. As an old friend and connection of my dad’s I had known Harry my whole life. In fact, my dad and him had a standing monthly poker night. So to say that I was surprised was an understatement. He was like an uncle who followed up on my career and ensured that I had everything I needed. If I was ever in trouble, I knew that I could call Harry. He had a son who he didn’t maintain contact with due to a nasty divorce with his ex wife constantly keeping his kid away from him, and so by default, I became the one he checked in on. Was he part of the underworld? One hundred percent. Did he do shady s**t? Without a doubt. And yet, I couldn’t picture a christmas without uncle Harry sitting at our table. 

“Sadie,” he called out, marching towards our table. 

“Uncle Harry!” I squealed, giving him a hug. 

“Your dad said I might see you here.” 

I rolled my eyes. Of course my dad would call Harry. 

“You looking after yourself?” 

“Yes Uncle Harry,” I chided, “Are you remembering to take your medication?” I volleyed back at him. Not many people knew, but Harry was diagnosed with diabetes late in life. 

He grunted, “Stop selling out my secrets.” 

I laughed in return. 

Soon Ammo and Hammer were standing up and introducing themselves. They didn’t really know Harry. In fairness, he only started coming around to our house after my dad left the club. Harry was kind of a big deal in the underworld, but to me he was just Uncle Harry. 

Harry and I chatted a bit, his wide frame blocking my view of the bar. 

“Oh sweet,” Ammo said, “I can introduce you to our President.” He motioned towards the bar, just out of eyesight. 

“Harry, let me walk you out,” I heard his low voice address Harry, sending shivers down my spine. 

“Sadie, this is Switch,” Ammo motioned, and as Harry stepped aside I found myself staring at Cole. 

We stood there staring at one another for a moment, before I cleared my throat and gave him a tight smile, “Hi Cole,” I said. 

He narrowed his eyes at me, “Hello Sadie.” 

I felt like I was in trouble and I didn’t know why. I told him that I was meeting friends. Sure, I didn’t tell him I was coming to the clubhouse, but he didn’t tell me he was the President. He was the President of the Hell Hounds MC London Charter. I let that information sink in. 

Breaking the tension, Harry spoke, “Bye Sadie, I’ll tell your dad you’re doing fine.” 

I gave Harry a genuine smile, “Thanks Uncle Harry.” I hugged him tightly, wishing him well. 

I watched Cole walk Harry out, as I sat back down at the table. Layla was watching me with concern. 

“You knew,” I hissed at her. 

She looked at me pleadingly, “I couldn’t say anything.” 

“Layla, I don’t actually want to hear it,” I spat out. 

Looking around I realised Cole was going to be back any minute. 

“I think I have to go,” I said aloud. 

Ammo grabbed my hand, “Sadie you don’t have to leave,” he pleaded with me. The situation must have seemed so f*****g obvious to them. Making my decision, I stood up, grabbed my bag and spoke quickly. 

“No, I really do have to leave. Thanks for a great time guys.” 

“Wait Sadie!” Layla shouted after me as I walked towards the large steel gate. I shook my head in response. 

As I stepped over the threshold onto the pavement I came face to face with Cole. He looked furious. 

“Drinks with friends?” he growled. 

“I didn’t lie!” I defended. “Axel and Layla are my friends.” 

We stared at each other for a moment, and I couldn’t contain it anymore, “You’re the President?” I asked incredulously. 

Grabbing my elbow, Cole led me further down the street, where our conversation wouldn’t be overheard. If I wasn’t so emotionally frazzled I would have done the same. 

“You knew that I was a biker,” he countered. 

“I thought you were a businessman!” 

His eyes flared for a moment, as I saw him try and reel his rage in. 

“Is it a problem for you?” he asked softly. 

Was it a problem for me? I thought about it. No, him being a biker - even the President wasn’t a problem. Me finding out the way I did? That was the problem.

“You should have told me” 

“Why?” He asked, “What difference would it have made when you’ve been so clear to me about what you don’t want.” 

I looked at him in confusion. 

“For Godsakes Sadie, all you’ve done is tell me how you don’t want a relationship - or any sort of attachment for that matter.” 

His breathing was hard as he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to touch me. 

“What do you want from me?” I demanded. I felt the tears rise up, as I blinked them back furiously. 

“A chance,” he said. “I just want a real chance.”