“No,” I chided, motioning her to come closer. “That’s not how it works anymore.”
Her brows pinched “What?”
“The game we’ve been playing.”
“Oh.” A lazy grin appeared and she moved closer, stopping when she stood between my spread legs.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked again.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you. Something big.”
“I never went to college,” I confessed, and continued before losing courage. “When you go, I’m afraid you’ll meet someone new. Someone who’ll give you more than I can, someone who isn’t fighting demons from their past.”
All the joy drained from her face and she gripped my chin, fast and hard like a mother scolding a child. “I don’t care about your past. I know what kind of man you are now, and that’s all that matters to me.” She pinched harder, moving to straddle my thighs, holding my gaze with fierce resolve. “I want you, Tito Moretti. And I take back what I said before, about needing all of you. I was wrong.” She pinched her lips together, swallowing, searching my eyes. “If you can only give me parts, that’s more than I could ever ask for. Because even the smallest piece of you is more precious than the whole of anyone I’ve ever known.”
Until that moment, words meant little to me. Until she spoke up with that strong, unwavering voice, her head held high, her eyes locked on mine, not once hiding or retreating, words had never held any power.
Right then? Fuuuuuck.
Tuuli’s words sliced my resolve to shreds. Everything, every damn, hard-headed, bullshit idea I’d had about love, and forever, and sharing a life with someone was swept up in the storm of her blue eyes, tossed in the turbulent gusts of her spirit, and spit back at my feet, lifeless, powerless.
All at once, I was angry and desperate. Gutted. I rolled us over, pinning her beneath me.
Arms trembling, I hovered, inches from her face. “You can’t take those words back once you say them. Do you understand? I’ve given you space. I’ve done my best to stay away because that’s what you asked. But if you say those words, if you say you’re ready to take me as I am, whatever parts I’m capable of giving, you have to mean them. Because if you walk away…” The bullshit that had collected and hardened over the years, the wall of devastation and rage I’d built, that wall exploded, and fuck was it painful, and fuck, I didn’t want her see me break but damn if I didn’t fall into her chest and lose my shit.
“I won’t survive that devastation, baby. I won’t. So, mean it when you say those words to me.”
Tuuli didn’t speak. She raised her mouth to mine. With lips, and body, and whispered promises, she sealed our fucking fate.
“YOU STAYING AWHILE?” Tuuli asked, tying her apron around her waist.
“No. Headed to the mansion. Got some things to take care of. See you tonight?” I hated every inch between us.
“See you tonight, Grim,” she said, heel bouncing on the floor, chin down, eyes soft and lifted to mine.
“Bye, Bunny.”
She stood at the counter, face flushed, smile shy and appreciative, drawing my attention again to those gorgeous lips.
I wanted her mouth, so damn bad.
My ticker kicked. I really needed to go. But damn, she deserved a better goodbye than what I’d offered.
“I need to kiss you,” I said, stepping close enough to feel her body buzz. “Hurry. Ask me.”
“Ask you?” Her brows quirked in confusion and she leaned back against the counter as if she needed the solidity. Then those big blue eyes smiled up at me. “Tell me something I don’t know about you. Something big.”
I attacked. An anaconda securing its next meal, coiling my arms, lifting her high. Lips to her ear, I whispered, “I once hacked the Department of Defense.” I took that mouth the way she deserved, the way I needed, and gave her a goodbye she would never forget.
Her arms snapped around my neck. Her body arched. She whimpered, a fucking sexy low moan that shot adrenaline straight to my cock. Fuck. The girl kissed like she wanted to crawl inside my skin and settle there.
I lowered her back to the ground, bending to keep our connection. She didn’t break the lip lock. I cursed into her mouth and pulled away. And then that damn little bunny curled her fingers around the waistband of my jeans and pulled me closer like she wasn’t ready to let go. And I wanted—needed—more than anything to drag her away and get lost for months in that sweet little body.
Her chest rose and fell, moist lips parting. “See you tonight. Don’t be late.” Then she released me, turned, and sauntered through the swinging double doors like she hadn’t just taunted a starving beast.
Goddamn.
I couldn’t help the cheesy-as-fuck grin that accompanied me through the dining room, out the doors, and across the lot to my car.
A grin that disappeared the moment I spied a like-minded monster, straddling a mean ass Harley, having words with Tango.
I reached them in time to hear Dane say, “Voltolini is dead. The deal he made with my brothers is null and void. We’re taking Banshee territory. I’m only relaying this information out of respect. For now, Whisper Springs will remain neutral, but we will pass through when necessary.”
Tango looked ready to murder, head cocked, fists clenched tight. “No fucking way. You’re not bringing Slayer shit through my town.”
“You ain’t got a choice, pretty boy,” Dane countered, looking nothing but relaxed. ”No cartel army to back you up this time.”
“Reynolds.” I raised my chin to the bearded biker.
He didn’t take his eyes off Tango, but grunted back, “Moretti.”
Tango dropped his head, defeated, then scrubbed a hand through his hair. “That all you come here for?”
Dane tugged a hand-rolled out of his cut and lit the bastard, making Tango wait while he enjoyed a drag. “Christian Brotherhood of Faith is holding a week-long rally.”
“We’re aware.”
“Banshees are attending. We’re striking in two days.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Tango paced. Spit. “You’re gonna start a war.”
“They started the war when they stole one of ours.”
“Payback. For the girl.” I knew retribution was coming. Hadn’t expected it to take so long.
“I’m not okay with this,” Tango added, his opinion falling on deaf ears.
Dane stared at my cousin like he was nothing more than a gnat. “You don’t get a say.”
Guy was right. We no longer had Voltolini to back us up. We were nothing against the Satan’s Slayers.
Still, I could see Tango’s gears grinding, so I stepped in. “That all?”
“No.” Dane’s glare finally met mine. “Found your boy.”
My BPM spiked. “Erik Meyer?”
He blew a smoke ring. “Banshees have been giving him shelter.”
My palms twitched. “Where is he now?”
“North of town. About forty-five minutes out. Off the grid. He’s attending the rally. Word is, Carver is stepping down; Erik’s taking the throne. I figured you might enjoy watching us bury him before that happens.”
No hesitation. “I’m in.”
Dane nodded. “We leave now.”
“Not a problem.”
He dropped his smoke, leaving it to burn, and threw a leg over his bike. “Hope you can keep up.”
“Tito.” Tango toed dirt over the smoking butt. “You have no reason to go. Slayers aren’t gonna let him live. Keep your hands clean.”
Fuck that shit. Erik Meyer put hands on my girl. The monster in the crisp, clean suit hurt children. Bastard was gonna bleed. “Clean hands are for pretty boys.”
Dane snorted.
I wasted no time on goodbyes. Dane’s ride rumbled. I jogged to my car, ignoring the fucks coming from Tango, pulled up my killer playlist, and readied for war, the darkness already descending.
The darkness descended like an omen, closing around me, its whispered warnings stealing my breath
as I watched the live feed through the television screen.
“Jeremy Carver, leader of The Christian Brotherhood of Faith Church, was found dead this morning at his Rockypoint home.”
The reporter stood at the guarded entrance to The Christian Brotherhood of Faith Compound.
“One eye-witness stated, and I quote, ‘It was gruesome and inhumane, and I can’t imagine what kind of monster would do this to another human being.’” The reporter then continued, “Authorities have seized the one-hundred-acre compound.”
I muted the sound. In the background, past the main field, red lights flashed. My mom’s house was on the other side of that field.
My mother. Oh, God. She had to be okay. They hadn’t mentioned her once in any of the reports.
I dialed her number again. No answer.
I texted again. No response.
I sunk deeper into the sofa cushions, shivering despite the warm temperature.
Where was Tito?
I dialed his cell for the tenth time. Nothing. I see-sawed between worry and anger. He hadn’t met me at the diner the night before. No phone call. No text.
A knock sent me flying off the couch and sprinting toward the door in hopes that a pair of strong arms and stormy eyes waited on the other side.
Slade greeted me, still in her uniform. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I said, breathless, anxious. “What’s up?”
“You watchin’ the news?”
I nodded, thankful for the distraction. “Im worried about my mom. She isn’t answering her phone.”
“Well.” She pushed past me, not waiting for an invitation. “You don’t have to worry alone.” Like she knew my soul, Slade pulled me against her, hugging tight and fierce, giving exactly what I needed.
God, she was an awesome boss. And landlord.
And friend.
“My life is such an ugly, embarrassing mess,” I mumbled into her shirt.
She didn’t respond. But she did drop her arms and scoot me toward the kitchen, where she proceeded to make us each a mug of coffee.
I fell into the chair.
She scooted into the seat opposite mine. “Let me tell you about ugly and embarrassing…”
The coffee warmed my insides, while Slade spilled her guts across the small kitchen table. She gave me the details of her upbringing, and how she came to own the diner at such a young age, how Tango had broken her heart years ago, and the desperate things she had done to protect Rocky. She spoke mostly about forgiveness and fighting for the people you love.
There was no judgment. No pity. I spilled my secrets, too. The abuse. The boys. I showed her my tattoo. Told her the truths Jonas had unearthed about my mother and her kidnapping.
“I’m sorry.” Slade reached a hand across the table, covering mine, and giving it a squeeze. “Have you talked to your mother about any of this?”
“I can’t get ahold of her. I’ve been calling and calling. Leaving messages,” I said, choking back a sob. “She’s probably still mad that I kicked her out of the diner.”
Now that Jeremy was dead, I feared she would be fair game to the men of the church. I had to tamper those thoughts or I’d lose my mind.
“I need to know if she’s okay.”
Slade glanced at the television. “By the looks of things, nobody is getting anywhere near that property for a while.” She snapped her head my direction, eyes big and bright. “I bet Tito could track her phone.”
My stomach sank. “I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t answered my calls either.”
“Oh,” she said, slumping into her chair. “Tango was up pacing all night. Said Tito was being a jackass but wouldn’t give me details.” Slade chewed her thumbnail, then smacked the table. “What about Roger? He might know something.”
Why hadn’t I thought of that?
I tapped my cell and pulled up the one number I never thought I’d have to call.
Roger Caldwell answered immediately. “Tuuli.”
My voice broke, “Roger.”
“Everything okay? Did he hurt you?”
Punch to the gut. “No. God, no.” Why would he ask that?
He cleared his throat. A child laughed in the background. A squeal. More giggles.
“I’m sorry to bother you so late. It’s just—”
“You’re watching the news,” he cut in, his voice apologetic.
“I’m worried about my mom. She isn’t answering my calls. I was hoping you knew someone, or maybe you could…I don’t know.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. I’ve got buddies at the Rockypoint Precinct. Hold tight, though. They’ve got their hands full right now. I might not know anything until morning.”
Morning was too far away, but what choice did I have?
“Thank you, Roger.”
I had nothing left to do but wait.
I should have waited longer. My head was still fucked, lost to chaos, the adrenaline high. I should have stayed away. But I needed my girl.
The Stop was bustling. Alive with animated chatter, humming with energy.
I searched the room. A sticky-faced toddler occupied my usual table, finger painting the formica in shades of oatmeal and orange juice.
Margie threw a, “Morning, Tito,” over her shoulder as she passed, balancing three plates.
“Tuuli?” I asked.
“On her break.” She tilted her head toward the back.
I couldn’t get to her fast enough. Like some addict suffering withdrawals, I’d been edgy, and irritable, nauseous, and every muscle in my body ached, jonesing for my Tuuli fix.
Slade’s office was the first door I passed. Hand poised to knock, I paused when I heard muffled voices. Angry voices. Slade’s being the loudest. “Well, Dane doesn’t like you. Let me talk to him. I’ll make sure he keeps the Slayers out of town.”
Followed by a, “Fuck that shit. You’re not going anywhere near the psychopath.”
I backed away and headed for the break room, breathing deep, my nerves snapping like a million live wires. Through the half-open door, I had a straight shot of the view inside. All five-foot-nothing of my bunny leaned against the sink, raised on her toes to get a good look in the mirror. My head spun. Chest thumped. All the weight, all the goddamn darkness, all the mayhem spinning through my head faded, and I took a long overdue breath, a much-needed pause, and like a goddamn stalker, I watched from the shadows.
Tuuli studied her reflection, scrutinizing her red-rimmed, swollen eyes. Fuck. She’d been crying.
Did I cause those tears?
I sure as hell didn’t want to be the cause of her pain, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t acknowledge the morbid swell in my ego thinking that someone would cry over my sorry ass.
Her brows pinched. She picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Bit her lip. Cocked her hip. Tapped a message with her thumb.
My cell vibrated in my pocket. I stepped away from the door to read the screen.
Plz let me know UR ok.
I had ignored her calls and texts. Jackass move, but I couldn’t have an angel in my head when I had butchery on my mind.
Last night had been a cluster fuck.
Erik hadn’t been where Dane had said he would be. But we’d found something worse. Much worse. And where Dane had seemed to have no problem stomaching the scene we’d interrupted, I’d lost my fucking mind. Took three Slayers to pull me out of that cabin, but not before I’d fed one sick pedophile his own cock.
I looked down at my trembling hands. The swollen, gnarled knuckles. Ruined, sinful, dirty hands. Why were they shaking?
Dark images flashed through my mind. Children’s tears. Vacant stares. Hollow souls. Wrinkled, old eaters of innocence. So much skin.
I love you son. You love me, too, don’t you?
Darkness slithered, closing in. I couldn’t get swallowed again. I needed light.
I shoved into the room, greeted with a gasp. Her phone clattered in the sink. Everything numbed.
Stalking close
r, I made sure I had her full attention.
My chest ached, stretched to its limit. Palms twitchy, throat dry. I breached her personal space, making it my own, and let the words loose, giving her my soul, whispering, “I need you. I’m broken, and I need you to fix me.” I swallowed her response with a kiss, stealing her beauty, her peace, cleansing my dirty spirit the only way I knew how.
Mouth to mouth, I walked her backward until there was nowhere to go, then slapped my palms to the wall above her head, pressing close, allowing no room for escape or pause.
The little bunny kissed me back, clawing my chest, curling her fingers around my neck, crawling up my body like a goddamn monkey, clinging with arms and legs. Feeding my soul with lips and moans. Washing away all the damn ugly.
Darkness loomed at my back while my beast roared for release. I tugged at Tuuli’s shirt, pulling it above her head, her arms rising with it, and I held her there, pinned against the cold brick wall, taking my fill.
The room was quiet, the urgency a deafening, primal roar. I released her arms and reached behind my waist to unhook her legs.
She fought me, and damn if my rock-hard cock didn’t do a painful happy dance. I broke the kiss and gripped her warm cheeks, holding her face a hairsbreadth from mine. “I need those pants off. Now.”
“No. Not here. We—”
“Off. Now.”
It took her all of two seconds to kick off the shoes and wiggle out of her khakis. Two heartbeats more, and she’d freed my cock, gripped it with her small fingers, and started slow and steady, stroking away the ache.
Her cheeks blazed a brilliant shade of red. “We don’t have much time.”
No, we did not, especially with her hands on my dick. I grabbed her thighs and hoisted her to my waist. When she gripped my shoulders, locked those creamy legs around my ass, and skin met skin, my control slipped, and I shoved into her with one hard thrust, sinking deep.
Fuck, she was so goddamn light in my arms. I hated that she trusted me when I was so dangerous, but fuck, I loved that she gave herself so freely, so carelessly.
All I wanted, all I needed, was pinned, half-naked, between me and the wall. Sweet hell, how I wanted to love her, and protect her, and trust her with every one of my broken pieces. I slipped into my dark place and lacking the strength to fight him off, let the monster free. With each roll of my hips, I gave her everything. All my hurt, all my pain, every fucking regret, every God-forsaken, soiled, dirty piece of my past.
Truck Stop Tempest Page 22