Get Away

by Jade Chandler

  I wished I could read his mind, see what troubled him.

  With a shake of his head, he met my gaze. “Why ain’t you married?”

  “No one ever asked me. I haven’t had that many boyfriends. This face scares away more than you’d think.”

  “Right.” He chuckled. “’Cause you’re so hard on the eyes.”

  “I’m too easy on the eyes for many guys’ confidence, and I pick the worst of the worst, apparently.” I glared at him, thinking about how much I liked him. Too damn much for my own good. He was another asshole who’d hurt me if I let him, so I wouldn’t let him.

  “Who did you kill in Vegas?” There, I’d asked the question I wanted answered most of all. What had he done in order to let me come back to the city I loved?

  He didn’t even look at me, just scraped back his chair, dropped a twenty on the table. “Let’s jet.” He turned and left me still sitting there, fork halfway to my mouth. Well, I’d ended that game.

  After I caught up to him and strapped on my helmet, he took off like the demons of hell were on our tails, and maybe they were. Maybe I’d set them loose when I asked my question.

  I’d expected him to head north toward the highway since I’d obviously pissed him off, but he turned onto another small road that wound deeper into the reservation. In a few minutes, a few houses dotted the road and we slowed. Across from us, there was a sign. Market Open. He came to a stop and parked. Behind the sign was an old building that in its heyday might have been a store or restaurant, now it was as decrepit as the cars parked along the road.

  We walked inside, and six different booths were scattered through the space. There were katsina dolls the Hopi were known for, colorful rugs, paintings and pottery. A wrinkled crone sold herbs in a far corner, and she had a line. The others weren’t as busy.

  Delta walked straight to the rug dealer. “Kotori, how’s it hanging, brother?” Delta and the large man clasped hands and did a back-slapping hug.

  “Hanging low, brother.” The big guy shook with laughter, then looked to me. “And your friend?”

  “This is Glory, she’s in the market for some new stuff for her place. You need to hook her up.” Delta winked at me.

  The brightly woven rugs called to me most. But I loved the pottery and paintings too. The little dolls they were famous for didn’t really do much for me. I only wished I could afford it all, but there was no way I could.

  “Go find things you want and bring them back here. Kotori and I will haggle the price.” He tried to shoo me away.

  “No.”

  He stared at me as if he didn’t know the simplest word in the human language. “Get shopping.” The two words held traces of meaning I couldn’t even begin to decipher.

  “No,” I repeated.

  He turned fully to me and guided me out the door by the elbow. “What the hell?” He spoke as soon as we’d cleared the door.

  “I’m not your charity case.” I couldn’t be plainer than that. “And I don’t have the extra money to spend now.”

  “I am buying you shit, so get in there and pick it out.” He spoke with low menace, but I wasn’t about to back down.

  “No, dammit.” I stomped my foot. “You got me a new place, moved my shit, are taking me home, and that’s all too much. Too much on top of too much. You already did too much when you did whatever you did that you won’t tell me about, so I could even go back home,” I groused. “I will never be able to repay you for all you’ve done for me. I admit you’ve been my hero—my knight in fucking armor—but enough is enough.”

  He grinned at me. “Done now?”

  The irritating man grinned.

  “Get your ass in there and pick out shit, or I’ll do it for you!” He smacked my ass.

  “I said no! You rode in, saved me, killed people so I could go home, and now you’re fixing everything, like...like I’m yours.” I willed the tears gathering in my eyes not to fall. “Stop it!”

  Chapter 28: Delta

  Glory stood with anger shining bright, and I’d never been more turned on in my life. I loved her riled up and ready to fight—it lit me up.

  And she thought I was some kind of knight? Boy was she wrong.

  “I fucked up, and I’m just making shit right.” I hated admitting it, but I saw no other way to get her stubborn ass inside and doing what I needed her to do.

  “You didn’t fuck up anything—that was all me.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Sure, they tried to make you pay for rejecting their boy Frankie, but that retribution was over with the beating they gave you.” I had hoped I wouldn’t have to cop to how much I’d fucked up her life. “Our response—my response—to Frankie fucking with you is what caused the blowback. I took it too far, and DeLuca was going to pay me back.” I stalked toward her but she didn’t back away from me.

  Rage built and the emotion from all those kills, all those mistakes, poured out of me. “I fucked up, and I am trying here to make shit right. You are going to let me do that for you.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she stepped right into my space. “You didn’t fuck up, you saved me. And don’t you forget it.” She poked me in the chest.

  Her arms snaked around my neck and she pulled me down to her and kissed me hard. There wasn’t an ounce of soft in her kiss, and I gave back what she dished out. And she took it all, standing toe-to-toe with me, she didn’t waver once. Emotion, lust, need poured out of me and she took it and turned it back into our connection. Heat blazed between us and I knew right then, I was a goner. I loved her, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change that.

  The kiss broke and we both stood panting. I wanted to drag her behind a building and fuck her now, and I had a good shot at getting her to agree.

  “Let’s go buy shit.” She winked at me and strode past, leaving me dick-hard and panting.

  I’d never met a more glorious woman than my queen.

  I took a minute to calm my racing heart, then I followed her inside. In the time I’d left her to shop, she’d already picked out four colorful rugs and stood in front of the art booth.

  “What’s the issue?” I noted the wrinkle between her brows.

  “Can’t decide between these two. I like them both but I don’t think both will fit in the space.”

  “We’ll take both. Put one in your bedroom, in the john—if you like them, then buy them.”

  “You aren’t helping.” She shot over her shoulder as she moved on to the pottery.

  In just a half hour, she picked out a good selection of art that all blended together, but didn’t have that arranged feel, like it was too matched. I’d paid the bill and arranged for Kotori to ship it all to her apartment in Las Vegas.

  “I’ll be back.” She followed one of the women out the side door.

  “Where are they going?”

  “Mina has a large rug almost done and Blondie is looking it over.” Kotori watched after them. “You keeping that one?”

  “She’s not a stray animal.” I didn’t want to think about forever.

  “She’s in need of a home, though.”

  “What do you know?”

  The big man just stared right into me and sent chills down my arms.

  “Stop that spooky stuff.” Just because he was the tribe’s shaman didn’t mean he needed to practice on me.

  His deep laugh filled the emptying shop. Our visit had kept the small market open longer than normal, but our purchases would keep them fed for weeks. Rez life was good and bad—just like life everywhere—but it was definitely slower here. Time was one thing everyone had in abundance, and hurrying just didn’t happen.

  Glory strolled back inside with a wide smile. “Add Mina’s rug to the list. She’ll ship it in a couple weeks.” She sashayed her hips and didn’t stop until she was right in front of me. “Thank you, Delta. I love these treasures.” Then
she kissed me. Sweet and slow. We hadn’t shared a kiss like this before—one without the fire I’d come to associate with her. Damn, she tasted perfect all sugar with only a hint of spice.

  We rode away from the Hopi reservation a little after one in the afternoon, and all too soon the guilt seeped back. It was like a cancer consuming me in every quiet moment. I’d tried whiskey, my bike, and only Glory in my arms blocked the visions of those two teens falling from my gunshots. I saw the surprise and then the expressions went blank—life gone by my hand.

  I remembered the trickle of dark red blood as I cut their throats, smelled the metallic odor of their blood, and I knew I’d never escape the memory, let alone the guilt that weighed on me. Hell, I deserved that guilt and a thousand times worse.

  I had nothing good in me. I brought death with me, and I was done trying to run from it. I’d get Glory home, then I’d spend my days suffering, letting it eat me from the inside out. I had no idea what to do about it, and honestly, I didn’t deserve a reprieve. Those boys weren’t waking from the worms, so I’d have to wallow down there with them.

  The only good thing besides Glory was being away from the club. My mistakes had soured the club too. The Brotherhood I’d cherished felt like additional weight now. The club was tied up in my self-hatred, and no matter what Thorn, Jericho or anyone said, what I’d done wasn’t right. And I’d done it for the club because I hadn’t realized what I was doing. When I’d seen those boys die—my connection to the Brotherhood had become forever twisted in my guilt. Another thing I’d spoiled.

  My mood darkened faster than the sky as we drove into the evening. I need a bottle of whiskey or three and some hard fucking. I didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve anything good, and sure as hell didn’t deserve to be considered her fucking hero. That’s what she’d called me. If only she knew how wrong she was.

  I stopped at a motel just past the Nevada line. We went inside and I booked two rooms for the first time. I was so done with people, with her. The clerk passed me two keys and we went upstairs to the adjoining rooms. I flipped open my wallet and pulled out two hundred and tossed it to the bed before striding out and into my own room.

  “You fucking asshole.” Glory yelled behind me, but I didn’t care. “What are you paying me for now?”

  I spent maybe five minutes staring at my wall in my room before I left, again. I needed a bar and whiskey and maybe someone who wanted to start shit. I drove maybe half a mile before I spotted the kind of bar I liked—a dive with a few bikes out front. I parked next to another Harley and headed inside.

  A bleached blonde with a huge rack smiled wide when I sat at the end of the bar. “What can I get you, handsome?” By the way she said it I knew I could fuck her, and maybe I would, but first I needed the whiskey.

  “Southern Comfort, in doubles, and keep them coming. Give me a stout ale, and keep those coming too.”

  She gave me a wide smile and set down the bottle, a tumbler and a stout.

  I slid her two twenties. “That’s for you.”

  She folded the bills and tucked them in her bra, giving me an even better view of her tits.

  I drank the whiskey, sipped my beer and brooded. I needed to figure out my next move. I could go nomad, ride free and stay away from the club I considered home. I didn’t deserve a home or brothers after the death I’d caused. At least none of my brothers were dead, yet. I hadn’t screwed up enough to cause that kind of damage, like I had in the army. But I’d done shit that was wrong, against every code I ever held. How could I not hate the men I’d protected when I’d killed those kids? Already I felt the hate coloring everything—I hated myself, and soon that would be the Brotherhood too. Maybe I should just leave the club. That idea tore through my chest—pain scorched me. The Jericho Brotherhood was the only home I’d ever had. And I didn’t deserve a home anymore.

  I reached for the bottle of whiskey but it was empty, and so were the four beer glasses in front of me. Hell, I wasn’t even drunk. The regret and guilt swirled in a bitter storm in my core. “Give me a bottle to go.” I slid a hundred to her.

  She cocked her head at me. “Fingers?” She held up two.

  “Two.”

  She took the hundred, and it followed the twenties into her bra. “I get off in two hours, you want to wait for me?”

  The girl was hot and my type, but I wasn’t interested in fucking anyone but the blonde who had been on the back of my bike for two days now. Just another sign of my bad fucking luck—I only wanted a woman who didn’t want me.

  “I’m not in that kind of mood tonight.”

  Just as I spoke, an idiot swaying on his feet lurched to the bar. “You must be one of those fake bikers then—all bark no bite.” He guffawed at his own joke and didn’t even see the punch I threw—he ended up on the floor, out cold. Nobody dissed my cut.

  The bartender gave me a smile and slid me my bottle. “You know where to find me.”

  “I do at that.” I took my bottle to the bike and stored it in the saddlebags before driving back to the hotel. Back in my room, I shed my clothes down to my boxers and turned on the TV to some true crime show before I opened the bottle of whiskey. Only a few sips into the bottle, a knock sounded on the connecting door—I ignored it. She stopped.

  I kept drinking. Now my brain slowed and thinking was harder—staring into nothing and not thinking was almost easy. Peace. Damn, I missed this quiet.

  The door clicked and then opened. “Don’t need anything.”

  “You need me.” She sauntered in, and man was she right.

  Every time I saw her, she took my fucking breath away.

  “You need to share that whiskey.” She plopped down on the bed beside me, ruining my peace.

  Now all I could think about was fucking her, again. I passed her the whiskey. She drank but didn’t talk. She handed me back the bottle and we sat there sharing what was left of my bottle. She smelled wonderful—I loved her fresh peach scent just like I loved her.

  Fuck. That was another reason to drink. I tipped up the bottle and nothing came out.

  “Finished it.” She stared into me. “Wanna talk or fuck?”

  “What do you think?” I never wanted to talk.

  She slid her shirt up her peach skin and I was hard—damn, she was fine.

  In seconds, her tits bounced and her ass tempted me. “Get naked.” She bit her lip and watched me strip off my boxers. “You have a great cock—good size and you know how to use it.” She bent low and sucked my cock into her mouth, taking all of me and then sliding back up.

  The physical pleasure mixed with the fog created from too much whiskey shrouded me in a haziness I craved. All too soon I felt the haze clear as need shook through me. I would claim her, fuck her until nothing remained to haunt me. I’d sacrifice all my demons to the lust that always blazed between us.

  Then Glory wiggled that ass and took me deep. As she came back up, I caught her under her arms and pulled her up until I could smash my mouth into hers. I let the wild loose, biting her bottom lip and plundering her sweet mouth.

  “Going to fuck you hard,” I growled. “Ass up, Queen.” I smacked her ass as she scrambled into position. “Not taking it easy on you. Need to be rough, you with me?”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and met my gaze. Hunger burned in those baby blues. “I’m with you.”

  With a quick jerk, I lined her hips up and pushed into her. With singular focus, I pumped into her and let the sensation cut through me, ripping away the loathing, regret, and guilt. She purged my darkness and filled me with her perfection.

  “More.” She massaged her plump tits. “Close.”

  I ground into her, and she moaned.

  So much built inside me, behind the walls I’d created to keep all that rage and shit buried.

  “That all you got, boy?” She panted the challenge. “Thought you—” Her
words turned to a scream, and she squeezed me tight as her orgasm racked her.

  Where was that sassy mouth now?

  I held tight and pounded her, her whole body shook, then I was gone—the wall broke and it all flooded out of me as I bellowed. She’d brought me over faster than I’d figured possible, but damn, it was just what I needed. I rode the sweeping pleasure and lay wasted.

  Body quivering and mind quiet, peace stole through me. So sweet. I pushed her down to the bed and collapsed over her back, holding her to me.

  Sweat dripped down my face and for the first time since that damn night in Vegas, I felt hope.

  “Move already.” Glory jostled me.

  Had I passed out? I rolled onto my back and looked down at my Queen.

  “That was hot, right up until you tried to smother me.” She arched that perfect brow. “You trying to kill me?”

  My mind was muddled, so I shrugged. Words were too hard right now. She stretched and pushed that ass straight up in the air. My cock twitched. Don’t even think about it, I warned it. Ain’t got more in me now.

  Glory rose and padded to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom and stared at me before coming over and climbing into bed beside me. “Scooch down and hold me.”

  I did what she said, loving the way she fit against me. Her hand traced circles on my chest. Her peach scent tickled my nose.

  “Tell me about it.” She didn’t look my way.

  “We had sex, really fucking great sex.”

  She rolled to her side and her full tits distracted me. She had pert nipples, and I needed a taste.

  “About what you did in Vegas,” she said when I’d finished tasting her tit.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “You need to talk. Believe me, I know.” She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “You’re eating yourself up because I made you kill those people. I deserve to know.”