Zeke (Devil's Flame MC Book 2)

by Romi Hart

  He raised an eyebrow at her and smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” And as she blushed, she was out the door and running to her car. She pulled out almost fast enough to make her tires squeal and sped away, leaving him staring after her through the front window until the car disappeared into the black distance.

  “Fuck!” he launched, hobbling back to the couch and throwing himself back. He managed to lift his bad leg and prop it over one arm while he rested his head on the other, not sure what upset him more, the fact that she’d left in such a hurry without spending the night or the fact that he cared about that at all.

  Leigh Marks had somehow gotten under his skin in a way no other woman ever had. He felt like he needed to make her see what kind of man he’d become, rather than judging him based on preconceived notions and his gruff outward appearance. He didn’t know how to do that, though. A clean shave and some fancy pants didn’t shine a dark soul into a shade of pearl. And no matter how hard he worked to be a good person, he was too tarnished for repair and recovery.

  Still, there had to be a chance. For god’s sake, if Rafe could find himself a woman who would latch on and not let go, it couldn’t be that hard. Zeke was fun and energetic, when he wasn’t dragging around an extra forty pounds of weight on a bum leg. He was smart and had a good sense of humor. And he knew he was good in bed. Hell, he’d even been called handsome a time or two in his life. So, even if he couldn’t keep her forever, the way it looked like Rafe and Kira were going to be connected, he should be able to have a regular thing with Leigh until he got her out of his system.

  And then what?

  He sighed and pinched the bridge of his note, fighting a headache. He didn’t want to hurt her, either. There was already some sort of damage there, something that made her not trust people, especially men and specifically men of his persuasion. If he drew her in and then dropped her later, he’d probably shatter whatever this beautifully broken thing about her drew his attention most.

  It matched his own brokenness.

  For a brief moment, he imagined they could heal each other, but that was laughable, and he grimaced at his own strange fantasies. Reaching for the table where he thought he’d dropped his phone when he’d first walked in, he searched for the pizza joint around the corner to order food. Maybe he was just hangry, and all these stupid manifestations would disappear with caloric intake.

  He even flirted with the chick who delivered the pie, her eyes barely lifting from his bare chest to speak to him directly, trying to ease the odd sensation that had his chest tight and his stomach churning.

  But halfway through the pizza, he picked up his beer bottle and launched it against the wall. His intention had been for Leigh to join him, for them to enjoy some Thai food or fried chicken. Even some fucking hamburgers. He hadn’t thought for one second he’d end up alone and pathetic at his kitchen table with a pizza. He picked up his phone again, considering calling Rafe or Eli or any of his brothers to come get him and bring him to the clubhouse. He usually enjoyed the sacred silence of his house, but tonight, he was lonely and didn’t like the empty, quiet space that seemed to close in around him.

  But he was a grown man, and he didn’t need a rescue.

  He did, however, need to get the hell out of here before he drove himself insane or drank himself stupid. He clenched his jaw and scheduled an Uber, wishing he could just climb on his bike and go. Aside from the need for his body to heal and allow him to perform better in bed, he needed his knee back to ride. The freedom, and the sense of being in control, were missing. And he couldn’t ride with his crew to get his vengeance for the injuries until he was healed.

  * * *

  “You want me to kick on the jukebox and play ‘There’s a Tear in My Beer?’” Zeke glanced up at Corey, his club president, from the seat at a back table in the clubhouse. He’d come here so he wouldn’t be alone, but he wasn’t particularly feeling sociable, either.

  He grunted and shrugged. “Why, you got a broken heart or something?”

  Corey chuckled and sat down, uninvited. But Zeke wasn’t going to stir the pot with the man who was basically his boss and gave him a family here that approved of him in a way no one else did. “I’m not the one over here moping, feeling sorry for myself because I can’t ride.”

  Thankfully, that was the only thing Corey saw in his less than cheery disposition. The last thing he wanted was the rest of the Flames giving him shit about being hung up on a woman. “When was the last time you literally couldn’t ride, Corey?”

  “Ten years,” he answered quickly. “Broke my left arm in a fight and couldn’t ride for six weeks.”

  “And were you gunning for revenge?” Zeke countered.

  Glaring for a moment, Corey didn’t move, and Zeke knew he’d gone too far. Still, he sat and waited as his boss relaxed slightly, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. He blew it out slowly. “You know, it took Rafe six years to get revenge, even able to ride. What makes you think we’re going to ride out and kick some Raven ass? Better yet, let’s just throw away the new alliance we’re forming with Dylan and the Diamond Kings and blow it to hell.”

  Grinding his teeth, Zeke squeezed the glass bottle tight enough in his fist he thought for a moment it would shatter. “I can’t stand being laid up like this, I need to do something, and I’m too much of a liability. I can’t carry my own weight, much less watch anyone’s back.”

  “So keep up with your physical therapy. You’ll be back on two feet in no time.” Clapping him on the shoulder, Corey eyed him with intense interest that told Zeke whatever was on his mind wasn’t going to be a pleasant change in conversation. “Rocky told me he dropped you at the hospital for a date tonight. Some foxy little nurse. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Fighting the urge to growl at Corey, Zeke reined in his anger. He didn’t know what struck him harder, the reminder that he wasn’t with Leigh or the way Corey referred to her as if she was nothing more than a piece of ass. But then, wasn’t that all he’d wanted? Had he ever put stock in a woman for any other purpose?

  Shaking himself figuratively, he ran a hand down his face and told Corey, “It didn’t go quite as planned.”

  Quirking a brow in disbelief, Corey asked, “Did you strike out? I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “No, I didn’t strike out. I got mine, and she got hers. But...” He trailed off. But what? Grunting, he slapped his leg. “She hates bikers, and she hates me. She’s attracted to me, and we have chemistry. But she thinks I’m a dirty criminal. And with this shit on my leg, I couldn’t chase her down to argue with her.” Taking a swig of beer, he added, “Not that I need her. I just get tired of feeling like a loser sometimes, and it might be nice not to have someone turn her nose up at me just because I don’t have a degree and wear a suit.”

  Corey snorted. “Good luck with that, bro. I’ll tell you this, though. You have to head to the hospital three times a week for physical therapy. I’m sure you could engineer a chance meeting with this chick, all dressed up and cleaned up. And maybe you could find a way to convince her that we’re rough and tumble, but we’re not cracked and criminal. And that includes you,” Corey added, pointing a finger at Zeke’s chest. “I know you still see the teenage rebel with the mistakes weighing him down like a backpack full of bricks. But that’s not you, and it hasn’t been you for almost half your life. Got it?”

  Zeke nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. Did a corrupt heart ever change? Rafe and his ordeal had always been pure. He’d come to the Flames on the death of his sister, looking for vengeance against the Kings and Jake Hawthorne, and by the time he’d gotten to the son of a bitch, Rafe had multiple reasons to kill the monster. So there was nothing in Rafe that blackened his soul.

  Zeke didn’t have that same purity. He’d already been in trouble when he came to the Devil’s Flames. And it had taken a lot to break him of his habits and assure himself he was worthy of his brothers. No one had ever managed to convince him he was deserving of approval
from every day society. And if the average human, who wasn’t above reproach in their own right, couldn’t even deign to treat him decently, how could he expect someone with a clean slate like Leigh to give him a chance?

  “Just think it over, Zeke. Maybe this chick just needs a little schooling. She probably comes from some rich bitch suburbia where her parents handed everything to her, and she’s never struggled a day in her life. She was raised to set her eyes on bettering herself through marriage, choosing some golf bag toting doctor or lawyer that ties a fucking sweater around his neck and sleeps around behind her back but gives her a rich house and two kids.”

  That was probably true. But women from that class of people were like zealots in a cult. It was almost harder to break through their programming than a victim of a cult.

  “I’ll keep it in mind, boss,” Zeke told him, not even fooling himself with the skepticism in his tone. “But like I said, it’s not that big a deal. I’m more concerned with spending my time healing this leg so I feel like I’m useful again.”

  “Good focus.” Corey smacked the table. “Don’t miss church this weekend. We don’t have a lot to talk about, but we’re still trying to iron out things with the Kings and patch up the damages. And we need to get that done so we can plan our strategy with the Ravens going forward.” He stood and called over his shoulder, “Just so you know, the two men who took you down? Dylan took care of business. The two of them and six other Hawthorne loyalists won’t be giving us any trouble. And you might want to get the details from him. He made it good.”

  Zeke would have rather tortured and killed those rat bastards himself, but the thought that they’d died at the hands of a man who hated Jake Hawthorne as much as every Devil’s Flames member Zeke could think of was a bit more satisfying than he could have imagined, and the tension in his shoulders eased a bit. He thought about getting up to go for another beer but didn’t feel like hobbling around, and the crutches didn’t work too well on the old, worn wood floor. They tended to slip or get caught on a nail.

  Instead, he thought back to Corey’s proposal. He could try to sweep Leigh off her feet, but she seemed to have those feet planted firmly amidst her little perfect world, which didn’t have room for someone who ran around in leather on a bike.

  One of the girls who’d been at a table with Harrison all night ran a beer to him, and Harrison waved. Zeke raised his bottle in thanks and sipped, considering taking one of those girls to bed with him. He could have any of them he wanted. They weren’t picky.

  But after his interlude with Leigh earlier, he just didn’t want to kill the memory yet. In fact, he thought, he could test the waters. He’d see Leigh at the hospital, he knew, in a couple of days. He’d read her, take inventory of how she felt and whether or not she’d be open to seeing him again. And if all things worked out, he’d get her back in his bed and on his cock soon enough. If not, at least he’d know, and he’d be able to move on.

  6

  “I don’t have time,” Leigh told Rory, tucking the phone between her chin and her shoulder as she dug in her pocket for change. She hadn’t expected to work a double, but her replacement had called in sick, and she didn’t have anything else to do. In fact, aside from going to the gym three times a week, she’d spent all her free time at home with Netflix and fast food for dates, mostly negating her time on the treadmill, for the last three weeks.

  “You know as well as I do that your hospital’s policy on doubles is to give you a one hour break for food and errands in between,” Rory argued. “Besides, I’m already getting on the elevator. I knew I wouldn’t get you out of the building, so I brought something. And for the record, we’re going out Friday night. You’ve got to move past the mourning stage.”

  “I’m not in mourning,” she protested, but Rory had already hung up. Hurrying to the elevators in hopes of heading her off at the pass, Leigh scowled. She wasn’t in mourning. She was over Chris. That much she knew, considering her reaction to Zeke. And how much she’d enjoyed her escapade with him. And she wasn’t mourning Zeke, either.

  She’d avoided him the first day he’d been scheduled for PT, not quite ready to face him. And when she’d gone the next time, they’d said a polite hello and not much else. He was out the next time, and Nancy said he’d called in sick. After that, he’d switched the schedule. He’d clearly blown her off, and so for the better part of the last three weeks, she’d been regretting her decision to throw caution to the wind and sleep with Zeke.

  The truth was, she wanted another round, one that wasn’t so quick and desperate, one where she didn’t have to worry so much about his injuries. A night where she could curl up with him afterward and smell his skin until she fell asleep and snuck out early in the morning.

  At the same time, Leigh liked to think she’d hardened herself against the disappointment. She’d thrown herself into her work, trained harder at the gym, and then satisfied her sudden bouts of loneliness with romcoms and comfort food. And now, she was taking extra shifts.

  As she stood in front of the elevator, Leigh realized Rory was probably right. She needed to go out and have a girl’s night. And if she found a conquest, she wouldn’t tell Rory about it so she didn’t have her friend fussing all over her. She definitely needed to do something to get her mind off…

  “Zeke!” Leigh blinked several times as he stepped off the elevator, recognizing him but not quite believing her eyes. Three weeks was a long time when the last real interaction was riding a man’s cock. And that image made her cheeks heat and her blood boil. She pressed her thighs together as inconspicuously as possible as she tried to roll her tongue back into her mouth.

  The man before her was Zeke, but he was different. He wore dark jeans and motorcycle boots, but he had on a white button down with a black sports coat, and his face was shaved clean, not even the slightest hint of stubble in sight. His short blond hair was styled, the fade drawn into almost a faux hawk, and he carried a bouquet of orchids.

  His grin was to die for, a bit nervous and cocky all at the same time. “Nancy said you liked orchids.” He held the flowers out to her, and she took them, her hands shaking. She didn’t know what to say or do, and she stood there, awkwardly, while he glanced around and seemed to struggle for words. “Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

  Leigh shrugged. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Zeke. We didn’t have any sort of arrangement. I mean…” She trailed off, her throat burning as she flushed again, fiercely. That sounded wrong, and she cleared her throat, attempting to start over. “What I mean is, we were supposed to have coffee, and things got a little heated. There was no further obligation.”

  He crossed his arms and stared at her. “What if I wanted an obligation?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  He stepped closer, and she could smell his cologne riding just above that scent of his that was all natural and all male. The unique combination had her blood pumping all over again. In a low voice, he told her, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. And just about that sexy body of yours. I hoped you’d forgive me for getting ahead of myself before and agree to let me take you to dinner. I want to show you that I can be civilized and gentlemanly, two things I think you’ve accused me of not being and something I’ve failed to show you is possible.”

  “Dinner?” she repeated. Her heart raced, and her mind swirled. But something else caught her attention as she tried to make sense of all this. She pointed to his leg. “No more brace?”

  He grimaced. “I have a smaller knee brace and a cane, which I left at home in favor of looking my age rather than coming off as an old man.” Leigh couldn’t help but smile, and he returned it with a sparkle in his silvery eyes. “I do have a lot more range of motion now, thanks to Nancy.”

  She did herself a favor and ignored the entendre. “Congratulations,” she told him, enthusiastically.

  “Thanks. So, maybe we can call it a celebratory dinner, if you’re not comfortable with the
idea of a date with me just yet.” He sounded uncertain but hopeful, and Leigh considered him for a moment. Beneath the rough exterior, he looked like a Gucci model, and she couldn’t get past that attraction she felt toward him, a magnetic pull. But even deeper, she caught a glimpse of a vulnerable young man, and she was suddenly curious how he’d ended up in a motorcycle gang. Who had he been before?

  “It’s a date,” she heard herself say before she could think about the repercussions. “I’m off Thursday. Does that work for you?”

  He smiled broadly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Leigh fought the urge to glance around and see if anyone was looking. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Six? That’s early,” she nearly panicked.

  He shrugged. “I hate waiting.”

  The sound of another elevator opening drew Leigh’s attention, and she groaned internally as Rory stepped off the elevator. Her friend’s eyes widened until Leigh thought they might fall out, and she hustled over, two plastic bags in her hand. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Her eagerness to do just that seemed to amuse Zeke, while it made Leigh simply want the floor to swallow her up. Instead, she sighed. “No, we were just discussing progress with physical therapy and celebrating it. Zeke, this is my best friend, Rory. Rory, this is Zeke.”

  To her complete devastation, Rory gave Zeke a knowing onceover before shaking his hand. “Well, it’s definitely nice to meet you, Zeke.”

  “The pleasure’s mine. All of Leigh’s friends so far seem to be amusing and quite beautiful.” Leigh felt intense jealousy roil inside until Zeke turned to her and winked, his eyes blazing. “It looks like you girls have something planned, so I’ll just show myself out. And Leigh, I look forward to seeing you Thursday.” He turned toward the elevators, and Leigh took hold of Rory’s arm, dragging her around the corner.

  “Hey! What’s wrong with you?”

  Away from everyone else and out of Zeke’s line of sight, Leigh hissed, “Couldn’t you have been a little more subtle?”