The Lost Boys MC Series: Books 1-4
Page 35
“Please, stop. What are you—Rhett, stop it!” I exclaimed.
“You’re too beautiful to waste,” he growled.
He whipped me around and pinned my hips to the wall. I slapped him across the face, but all it did was spur him forward. He crashed his lips against mine and the taste of him was disgusting. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I bit down into his lip. I bit and held until I tasted blood on the tip of my tongue, then I let him go.
He double-backed and brought his hand up to his lip as I took off running.
“You little bitch!” he roared.
I took off for the sidewalk. I tore past the side entrance of the bar and sought my salvation in the dim lights of the sidewalk. But before I could get there, a pair of hands came down onto my shoulders. I struggled against him. I cried out for help. He back handed me across the face hard. I felt a large ring he was wearing connect with the bone right underneath my eye and I whimpered out in pain, but I refused to let him get the best of me.
“Help! Somebody, please! Help me! HELP!”
Everything was a blur. The way his hands pawed at me. The way he pinned me to the brick. The way I kept stepping on his toes and bashing my forehead into his nose. My father taught me over the years how to defend myself against attackers, and I was thankful I had listened. At least, partially. I employed all the tactics I could conjure in my panicked state, and I finally made it to the sidewalk.
But not before someone barreled into my back and pinned me up against the facade of the building next to the bar.
“You’re really going to wish you hadn’t struggled,” Rhett hissed.
He turned me around and palmed my breast a little too hard. I pressed my thumbs into his eyes, pushing as hard as I could. He knocked my hands out of the way and held them at my sides, his eyes coming into contact with mine. There was nothing but the intention to hurt. There was nothing but the intention to rape.
And before I could blink my eyes, he was ripped away from me.
I cried as I slid down the side of the building. My chest jumped with my sobs as my eye began to swell shut. My wrists ached and my back felt as if it had been scratched by a thousand kittens. And the hope I had for my night ceased to exist. I heard voices off in the distance. I saw what looked like a black and blue blur before I heard a thud on the ground.
I scrambled to my feet, trying to get away on my shaking legs.
“Ma’am. Ma’am. Can you hear me?”
A hand came down onto my arm and I swatted the grip away. I had to get away. I had to get back to my car. I fought against the gentle touch as panicked breaths fell from my lips. The world felt like it was spinning around me as I drowned in my own adrenaline rush.
“It’s okay. Hey. He’s out cold. Look at me.”
My eyes focused on the man in front of me. He had on a leather jacket and dark blue jeans that clung a little too tightly to his legs. His auburn hair glistened in the dim lamplight of the sidewalk and I wasn’t sure what color his eyes were. Blue. Or maybe green. Were they hazel?
I honestly wasn’t sure.
I looked down at my feet and saw Rhett sprawled out. He had a bruise already forming on his jawline to match the blood caked on his lip from where I bit him. I rose my hand and wiped at the dried blood on my own lip, grimacing as I tasted it.
“Here. Wipe off with this,” the man said.
He handed me the cuff of his shirt and I took it gladly. I wiped at the man’s dried blood on my lips, pulling the shirt away from his torso. And in the dim light of the lamp posts on either side of us, I saw what looked like tattoos. My eyes danced around his skin. His leathery-tanned skin. I saw the outlines of the rings of his abs and lines that disappeared beyond the loops of his jeans.
My eyes slowly raked up his body, taking in the swell of his chest. And as my eyes danced up his neck, I saw more tattoos.
He was covered in them.
I dropped the cuff of the man’s shirt, unable to talk. His eyes studied me from his perched point of view, seemingly towering over me. Then again, that wasn’t hard to do. I was only five-foot-two. Got my height from my mother, who was barely over five feet tall.
Was my half-sister short, too?
“Are you all right?” the man asked again.
My eyes came back up to his and I found them to be brown.
What color are your eyes?
I nodded softly, unable to speak.
“I can help you get wherever you need to go. Were you headed into the bar?” he asked.
I paused before I nodded my head. Could I trust this guy? Should I tell him anything?
“It’s okay. You don’t have to speak. But we should at least get you away from the alleyway and back to your car. You’re going to need help getting wherever you’re going with that eye swollen shut the way it is,” he said.
I brought my fingertips up to my eye. I danced across my swollen lids before I heaved a heavy sigh. I’d never had a black eye before. And while it hurt initially, there was only a dull ache left when I touched it. More tears crested my eyes. I didn’t want to shed them, but they fell anyway. Effortlessly. Destined to drown me in their saltiness the way the waves of the ocean drowned out the edges of the sand.
Then, Rhett groaned on the ground.
“Come on. Let me get you to your car. I can deal with this asshole when he wakes up,” the man said.
Then, he placed his hand on the small of my back and turned me around. Led me toward the empty parking lot. And the only thing that brought me hope was the lack of command in his touch. It wasn’t harsh and it wasn’t guiding. It was only meant for comfort.
I was the one in the lead, and he was simply following to make sure the end game was seen through.
I think I can trust him to my car.
But after that, I was on my own.
Even if it meant never meeting my half-sister during my stay in San Diego.
7
Bronx
I saw how frightened the girl was. How rattled she was. Hell, the young woman couldn't even speak. And while I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or make her feel as if I was another man attempting to take advantage, I wanted to also get her to safety. I tried to ignore the rush of electricity up my arm as my hand settled into the small of her back. I mean, the woman was beautiful. Very short with luscious curves in all the right places. She barely came up to the bottom of my chest. No more than five-two, maybe three. She had broad shoulders and thick hips that poured into a tailored waist. I could tell by the way she walked that her legs were strong, but her arms were delicate. Slim, unlike the rest of her body.
She had dark brown hair with natural red highlights that sparkled as we walked past the lights. And when she chanced a look up at me, I was never really sure what color her eyes were. In the light, they were dark green. In the dark, they were ocean blue. At one point in time, I could have sworn they were hazel.
She had color-changing eyes, like me.
However, despite her beautiful features, she had a sharp jawline. Stern and prominent. It gave her the essence of strength, despite her very womanly features. Her cheekbones sat high on her face, giving her almond-shaped eyes a small bump up at the corners. It gave her a very seductive look. One that made my gut clench every time I stole glances down her way.
“Which one’s your car?” I asked.
She pointed to an SUV and I guided her over to it. But the second we got there, an unearthly growl came from what I could only assume was her stomach.
And the embarrassed flush that rose in her cheeks made me grin.
She had the prettiest creamy skin that was almost never seen on a coastal town such as San Diego.
I looked across the street at the diner. The small, almost nonexistent diner that still managed to keep their doors open. I was familiar with the place. I got breakfast there almost every morning, what with it being so close. They had the best waffles around, and I never could resist their double-crunch bacon. I looked down and saw the young woman rummaging around in he
r purse. Trying to find her keys with her trembling hands.
Then, I heard the man on the ground grunt.
The woman at my side gasped and her head shot over to where the sound came from. She immediately backed into me, as if seeking the protection she already knew I could provide. I slowly slipped my arm around her, my hand splaying across her stomach. Shit, the excess alone drove me wild. A soft, cuddly stomach I could lay my head on after spending hours between those thighs of hers.
Focus, Bronx.
“Gimme a sec,” I murmured.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number for the police. Then, I held the phone up to my ear. I slipped away from the young woman and strode back down the sidewalk, making my way toward the struggling asshole on the ground.
“SDPD, how may I direct your call?” the woman asked.
“Ah, yes. I’m over here by Chopper’s. You know, the bar?”
“What is your query, sir?”
“I think there’s a man here selling guns who shouldn't be,” I said.
“What?” the woman asked.
“Yeah. He keeps flashing people some guns on his hips and asking if they need protection in their lives. It’s weird. I just passed by him on my way in. I wanted to report it somewhere. He’s freaking some people out.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll report it and get someone there immediately.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I know my wife will feel a lot safer once he’s gone. All we wanted to do was have a night out for once! You know, get away from the kids,” I said.
I propped the phone against my shoulder as the woman rattled off to me. About her own kids. About how her and her husband never got to go out any longer. I slipped the two illegal firearms off my own body and wiped my prints off them with a microfiber wipe I kept in my back pocket. He looked up at me with unfocused eyes and I grinned down at him. I rummaged around in his pockets, looking for his wallet to check the cards he had in there.
I found it and slipped it out, then rifled through it before I wiped my prints off it.
The perfect target.
“All right, sir. Tell your wife I’ve got two officers on the way now. ETA, ten minutes,” she said.
“Thank you so much. I know she’s going to be so, so happy,” I said.
I hung up the phone and placed it into my pocket. Then, I placed the two guns on the pavement next to him. I grabbed the man’s hair and pulled his head back, snarling at him as he looked up at me with a bloodied nose.
“I hope you rot,” I murmured.
And then I had the wonderful pleasure of punching his fucking lights out again.
I walked back over to the trembling young woman and her eyes were wide. She looked up at me with eyes that were, for the moment, dark green. I grinned down at her before I held my arm out toward the diner, silently asking her if she wanted to eat.
And after her eyes danced around my face, she nodded.
I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about. This block was notorious for crime because it was notorious for not having cameras around. Police sirens sounded off in the distance as I ushered the beautiful young woman across the street, heading straight for the diner doors. We walked inside and took a seat at the back toward the front windows. I perched with my eyes facing the front door, still getting a great view of the man lying there. Unconscious. On the damn sidewalk.
“What’s going to happen to him?”
Her voice hit me like a mac truck. Soft and light. A bit breathy, like the sound of an angel’s voice from far away. My eyes slowly panned over to her and I saw her clutching her purse close to her stomach. Almost as if to cover up its beauty. Like she was ashamed of it.
What I wouldn't give to show you just how beautiful your excess is.
“The police will come and see he’s got two guns on his person with no identification numbers. No conceal and carry card in his wallet. They’ll arrest him and haul him off, where it will be his word against some anonymous caller’s word. He’ll be booked for carrying illegal firearms with suspicion to sell, and that’ll get him off the streets for a while.”
I took my phone out of my pocket and slipped off the back. I took out the SIM card and tore it in two, then stuck it in the breast pocket of my leather jacket. I slipped my useless phone back into its own compartment, ready to be tossed once we were done having dinner.
Or, whenever I could take a bathroom break in this place.
The girl furrowed her brow. “Who are you?”
I grinned. “You can call me Bronx. What should I call you?”
She paused, debating on whether or not to tell me her name. I hoped she did. If she lied to me, I’d know. But I also wouldn’t blame her for it.
“Freya,” she said softly.
Thank you for not lying to me.
“The name of an angel,” I said, smiling.
My smile prompted hers, and I watched her features light up. The smattering of light freckles across her nose and cheeks I hadn’t seen in the darkness soon became my only focus. Fucking hell, this girl was gorgeous.
The only thing that ripped my attention away was the wailing sirens and flashing lights that sped around the corner.
“Can I get you guys anything?” our waitress asked.
Freya’s eyes fell out the window, entranced.
“Can I get one of your banana mocha milkshakes with a double bacon cheeseburger and extra crispy fries?” I asked.
“And for the lady?” the waitress asked.
“What he’s having sounds good,” Freya said mindlessly.
A woman with an appetite. There was nothing more beautiful in this world than a woman who wasn’t afraid to eat and get dirty while doing it.
“You sure? That’s a lot of food,” the waitress said.
“She said that’s what she wanted, so bring the pretty girl what she wants,” I said hotly.
Freya shot me a sheepish smile before she nodded her head at the waitress. I sighed and sat back in my chair while the police hauled off the man still half-unconscious on the ground. Her smile grew bigger as she watched the police handcuff him. Stuff him into the back of their car. Drive off without a second thought.
She breathed a sigh of relief before sitting back into her chair. And I watched her shoulders unlock themselves.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“Much,” she said breathlessly.
“What happened tonight?”
She shrugged. “The usual. New girl in town is completely oblivious to all things. She’s flashing a picture around trying to track someone down, and some guy comes up and says he’s seen her. Knows who she is. Can take her to the person she’s looking for. So, the idiot girl—”
“You’re not an idiot. You’re trusting. I admire that in someone. I never trust. Comes with the territory,” I said.
“What territory?” she asked.
I nodded. “So, the girl did what?”
Her eyes danced between mine before she continued.
“She follows this guy to a bar he says has the person she’s looking for. And then he tugs her into an alleyway and tries to have his way with her. But the girl gets the upper hand and bites down onto his lip. Bashes his nose in. Tries to get away before some knight in shining black armor comes and punches the snot out of the guy.”
“He sounds like a dick,” I said, chuckling.
“Maybe so. But he’s a dick that saved me from a very dark fate in that alleyway. Thank you. Will you at least let me pay for dinner?”
“Nope. Not how I roll with pretty girls. But you don’t owe me a ‘thank you.’”
“I owe you something.”
I shook my head. “Never start believing you owe people things.”
She nodded softly as our food touched down in front of us. Milkshakes, included.
“Wow, that was fast,” Freya said.
“This place is known for how quickly they can pump out food. It’s terrible for you, but oh so good,” I said, grinning.
The two of us ate in silence for a while. I watched her devour her burger, almost like she hadn’t eaten yet today. I watched ketchup drip down her lips and mustard paint itself along her cheek. She wiped herself down with a napkin before continuing to eat, her soft lips wrapping around her milkshake straw to suck.
And suck.
And suck.
I cleared my throat. “So, you said you’re looking for someone?”
She nodded as she swallowed her food down.
“Mhm. Yes. My half-sister, apparently,” Freya said.
“Mind if I see a picture?”
She dug around in her purse before pulling it out. And the second she handed it to me, I put on my fucking game face. I looked up at her before looking back down at the picture, shaking my head slowly.
“I see the familial resemblance, but I don’t know who that is,” I said.
“I figured,” Freya said, sighing.
“You sure she’s in this area?”
“That’s what my mother told me.”
“Your mother?”
She nodded. “Mhm. We have the same mother.”
“And she’s alive?” I asked.
She furrowed her brow. “Why is that a question?”
“Just trying to make conversation.”
“It’s an odd question to make conversation with.”
“I’m an odd man,” I said, grinning.
“Not quite the word I’d use to describe you, but okay.”
“And what word would you use?”
I looked deep into her eyes that were now hazel. She smiled at me as she took a bite of her fries, her mind tumbling around and searching for the right thing to say. I smiled and leaned back, reaching for my milkshake so I could start downing it like I always did.
Then, she drew in a soft breath.
“Heroic.”
“What was that?” I asked.
“The word I’d use to describe you would be ‘heroic,’” she said.
“I’ll drink to that,” I said.
She held up her milkshake glass and clinked it against mine. And as we sipped them down in silence, my eyes studied her body. She had broad shoulders like her sister. She was short like her sister. Probably shorter, honestly. Her hair was much longer, and the brown was much darker. But those red highlights were the same. And while her eyes changed colors, they were blue sometimes.