Family Ties

by KB Winters

  The determination in her voice and that steely look that flashed in her clear blue eyes told me she meant it, and I believed her, or maybe I just wanted to believe her.

  “You’ve proven to be stubborn as fuck, so I have confidence in you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Seriously, Charlie, thank you. For picking me up at that convenience store and helping me get straightened out, even though I’ve been a pain in the ass.”

  I shrugged. “At least you’re pretty to look at.” The more Savannah came to life, the harder it was to ignore that she was beautiful. Her smart-ass mouth and nonstop sarcasm only made her more appealing, not to mention the proximity. And the fact that, now that she had put on a few pounds, her body was banging hot. She had perfect tits that shook and jiggled every time she laughed or bounced around the house. She had a narrow waist that gave her a fantastic bombshell hourglass shape, and yeah, I could admit to fantasizing about fucking her.

  “Thanks to you,” she shot back with a smile. “And the wonderful face cream your mother dropped off. And the body moisturizer,” she groaned. “My skin hasn’t been this soft in ages.”

  My hands itched to touch her; my fingertips longed to travel the length of those legs to see just how soft they were. “Good,” I grunted. “I’m glad.”

  Savannah stared at me a beat and tossed her head back with a husky laugh that shot straight to my cock. “Oh, don’t be such a guy, Charlie. Skin care is important, and I know you know that because despite your smoking and drinking, you’ve got that whole hot biker thing going on. Straight out of central casting.”

  Hot? “Did you just fuckin’ call me hot?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know you’re hot, Charlie. Every one of your Bitches is praying you’ll promote one of them to Old Lady status.”

  I shook my head and pushed down the footrest, leaning in close with a playful smile. “Yeah, but we’re not talking about them. We’re talking about you, and you think I’m hot.”

  Savannah sat up and gave me a long assessing glare that stirred my cock to life, doing that little head tilt thing as she licked her lips. “You are rather good looking, but it’s just genetics with the black hair and silver-gray eyes. And the body.” She licked her lips again and my cock was wide awake thanks to the loose sweatpants I wore.

  “Yeah, you’re pretty fuckin’ hot, Charlie. Wanna do something about it?”

  Fuck yeah, I wanted to do something about it. I wanted to push her legs up and slide my cock into her wet pussy, pounding hard while she shouted my name loud enough to wake the neighbors. But she’d been through a lot, and the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel like she had to fuck me to stay safe. And clean.

  “Savannah,” I warned.

  Her shoulders stiffened at my tone and she slid down the sofa, putting two full cushions of space between us.

  “Right. Got it.” She stood, shaking her head in what could have been disappointment or embarrassment. “Of course.”

  “Savannah, wait. Please.” My words fell on deaf ears. Before I could stop her, she was halfway to the staircase, headed up to her room where she could lick her wounds in peace. “Savannah. Stop!”

  She stopped and turned slowly, meeting me with a distant gaze. “It’s all right, Charlie. I don’t need you to explain, I get it. I do.”

  “You do? Then explain it to me because I sure as shit don’t get it.”

  She fisted her hands at her hips, making it impossible to ignore the hard peaks of her nipples that pressed against the white cotton shirt she wore.

  “You want me; I can see that in the heat in your eyes. And that impressive erection you’re sporting.” She looked down at my cock for a brief second. He jerked in response, beckoning her closer.

  But Savannah kept her distance.

  “Clearly.”

  “But I’m gross. Used up and dirty. You don’t want that, and I can’t say I blame you.” She shook her head again and took a step back. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Can we just forget it?” Her blue eyes pleaded with me to drop it.

  “No. I’m not sure I can, Savannah.” How could I forget the heat in her gaze when she looked at me? The way she licked her lips as if she could already taste my kisses and my cock. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

  My words weren’t getting through. She shook her head. “You’re gorgeous, and you’ve been good to me. Really good. I shouldn’t repay you with unwanted advances.” The words rushed out of her and that plump bottom lip trembled with emotions she refused to show. Especially to me. Especially now. “I’m sorry,” she said and turned on her heels, rushing into the guestroom where she locked the door behind her.

  “It’s not like that,” I said quietly, too long after she shut herself into the room to hear me. It was probably for the best, right now. Things were too goddamn complicated, no matter how much I wanted her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Savannah

  What a fucking idiot, I am! What the hell was I thinking, coming on to Charlie Ellison, President of the Reckless Bastards MC? Of course he didn’t want me. Not only was I Savannah Rhymer, though that meant fuck all to me these days, but I was also a used up junkie whore.

  Former junkie whore, but that doesn’t matter. I knew that the former would never matter, not to anyone who knew what I’d been through, what I’d done to survive long enough for a second chance at life.

  Not even Charlie, who dealt in the sex business, wanted anything to do with me. And goddammit, he was a man who slept with hookers! He just didn’t want me.

  And that was fine. Hell, it was more than fine. Now that I knew, it meant I didn’t have to worry that one night he’d expect payment in the form of pussy. It meant that we could help each other without the tension of sex or attraction. When we’d finished our business, we could go our separate ways.

  A knock sounded on the door and startled me out of my thoughts. “Yeah?”

  “Pizza is here.” Charlie’s deep voice was tight with tension, and I glanced at the clock with a heavy sigh.

  Seven-thirty on a Sunday evening, and I’d spent most of the day sulking in my room, deep in humiliation.

  “I’ll be down in a second.”

  Grateful for the private bathroom, I washed my face and pinned my hair up into a bun, throwing a UNLV hoodie over my t-shirt just so he understood I got his message, loud and clear.

  I walked into the kitchen and glanced at Charlie hunched over the utility drawer, probably looking for the pizza cutter.

  “What kind of pizza did you get?”

  He looked up at me with a wary glance and, finding what he’d been searching for, walked over to the pizza on the countertop in the middle of the kitchen. He started cutting through the slices already scored, just to make them easier to dish up. He was a gentleman like that, even though he had yet to smile at me.

  “Canadian bacon and pineapple with roasted red peppers,” he said, pushing the perfectly cut pizza toward me. “Help yourself.”

  I did just that, grabbing two slices and water from the fridge before I took a seat as far away from him as I could while still sitting at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he grunted and shoved another slice of hot, cheesy pizza in his mouth without so much as a wince. He was angry and uncomfortable, and I hated that I had made it awkward between us.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie.”

  He nodded but said nothing, just chewed angrily while he stared at the wood grain of the table as if it held the answers to all his problems.

  I ruined it, the easy camaraderie we’d built up over the last few weeks. Lost forever.

  “Okay.” I stood and put the uneaten slices back in the box. I faced him then and let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry, Charlie. It won’t happen again, but if that’s not good enough, I can leave right now. You’ve done enough for me as it is.”

  “Will you stop fucking apologizing!” The words roared out of hi
m and echoed in the kitchen, making me jump in unexpected fear.

  “Okay, sor—…fuck. Fine.” I turned and took two steps before he spoke again, his words low and lethal.

  “Don’t walk away from me, Savannah.” I turned to face him, but I didn’t come closer, didn’t speak. “I have a lot on my mind right now. Being the Prez is new to me, and I’m still adjusting, not to mention keeping you safe, the threat posed by The Crusaders and Black Jacks. Plus, there’s the issue of the Ashbys. It’s not that I don’t want you, but you’ve been through so much, and I don’t want you to regret it.”

  “That’s bullshit, Charlie. You don’t want me, and I understand why. Hell, I wouldn’t want me either. It’s fine, but clearly you are uncomfortable around me now so maybe I should just leave.”

  “Don’t tell me how I feel or what I want, Savannah,” he growled.

  His words were low and gravelly, each syllable a gentle tug on my clit. And that pissed me off.

  “I’m just telling you what I know, Charlie. You’ve been good to me. I’ll give you some information to make your life easier, and you can drive me to Reno and I’ll grab a bus to parts unknown.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell stopped us both cold, especially because it was accompanied by a dozen rapid, angry knocks.

  “Get upstairs,” he ordered.

  “No. It’s probably for me,” I said. “And if it is, you might as well give me up rather than face any more shit for you or your MC.”

  “Savannah,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, reaching under the table for a gun with his other. “Get your ass upstairs. Now.”

  “Open this damn door up right now, Charlie! I know you’re in there, and I know that bitch is with you!”

  Damn. That was one angry woman. “Girlfriend?” I asked.

  The thought that he rejected me because there was a woman who was special to him stung, but not as much as the initial rejection.

  “Cousin. The one Brendan kidnapped and shot full of drugs. Maisie.”

  “Then I should probably stay since I’m the one she’s after.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  As soon as the door opened an inch, a petite woman with black hair, pale skin and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, plowed inside wearing an angry expression to go along with her Chanel suit and Louboutin shoes.

  She knew her way around because she made straight for the kitchen and leaned within an inch of my nose.

  “You! You rotten little bitch. How dare you think you can come here to my family?” The woman, Maisie, spewed her hot angry breath all over me.

  I stayed where I was because I learned at an early age that backing down from a bully only made things worse.

  Maisie straightened up and began pacing, keeping her eyes on me the whole time.

  I laughed in her face, a good way to hide my nerves. “Your family? I thought you were an Ashby now. Congratulations, by the way.”

  She didn’t smile, instead her nostrils flared as she stepped closer again. Was she going to hit me? She wouldn’t do any more damage than the Black Jacks had done. With that realization, my fear melted away.

  “Get away from Charlie,” she yelled, “and stay the fuck away from him or you’ll end up just like your stupid brother!”

  I snorted at the reminder that Brendan was dead.

  “Is that funny to you, bitch?” She took a step closer and pushed me. “I said back the fuck off.”

  Now I was mad. “Don’t. Push. Me,” I growled.

  “Or what?”

  She pushed me again, and I dropped my hands from my hips, balled them into fists.

  “Huh? What are you going to do?” she spit out, waiting for my answer.

  “Or I’ll add some black to go with those pretty blue eyes, bitch.”

  She laughed. “You and what army?”

  “Like you said, I’m dead anyway. What difference does it make to me if I take one of Ashby’s whores out with me?”

  She lunged at me, and Charlie grabbed her around the waist before her long red nails slashed across my face.

  “You’re a dead bitch, Savannah Rhymer! Dead!” She kicked and swung at the air as Charlie carried her toward the door. I followed in case he needed backup.

  “Don’t you think you can turn my cousin—my family—against me. You can’t! I won’t let you! I will fucking kill you first!” she screamed in Charlie’s arms.

  “Maisie, what the fuck?” Charlie set her down on the porch and glared at her.

  “What the fuck, me?” she screamed, her hair falling over her face and her flushed face looking close to tears. “What are you thinking, keeping a fucking Rhymer in your house? Does Max know? You’re lucky she hasn’t slit your throat in your sleep, Charlie. You can’t trust her.”

  Charlie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again with a long-tortured sigh. “You need to stop eavesdropping on conversations not meant for you before you end up hurt.”

  “You’re defending her? You know what that brother of hers did to me, Charlie. He kidnapped me, touched me and pumped me full of drugs so he could start selling my body. And now you’re protecting her?”

  Okay, now her rage began to make sense. Charlie sighed and shook his head. “Goddammit, Maisie, he did the same to her! His own goddamn sister! I’m sorry you went through that, but you survived. She was on death’s door when I met her!”

  “I don’t give a shit. She’s a fucking Rhymer.” She pointed her finger to his chest, stabbing him with each word. “Our fucking enemy!”

  “And you’re an Ashby now. You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t protect. Go home.”

  “What?” She sucked in a breath, a world of hurt contained in that one word. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I can and I am. Go now, and I won’t tell Virgil or Jasper you were here. Or eavesdropping. Again.”

  “You wouldn’t.” The look of disbelief she wore would have been funny if not for the hurt and betrayal underneath.

  “This is the real fucking world, Maisie. What do you think would happen if the fucking Jacks knew she was here? Or The Crusaders? You wouldn’t have made it to the fucking door. You’d be on your way back to one of their whorehouses to be pumped full of drugs and fucked, all day, every day until you escaped or killed yourself.”

  She sucked in a breath and stared at Charlie and then me, for a long time. “Whatever.”

  Like the thoughtful man he was, Charlie waited for her to get back into a sleek blue Mercedes and burn rubber as she drove away. Then he shut the door and locked it.

  I felt bad for him, for the stress I’d brought to his life. The drama. The family strife.

  “Put some clothes and shoes on,” he said.

  I nodded and went upstairs to grab my things because Charlie had finally seen the light. I ignored the stab of pain in my chest and gathered just enough to carry in the nylon duffel bag his mother had given me. It was better to travel light. I slid my feet into the sneakers, leaving the boots and ballet flats along with most of the clothes in the dresser and closet where they belonged.

  I went into the living room where Charlie sat deep in thought. “I’m ready,” I said.

  Charlie looked up and scowled. “What the fuck are you doing? Put that shit down. We’re going for a ride. Come on.” He snatched his keys from one of the hooks on the wall and stomped toward the door. “I need to clear my goddamn head.”

  I shrugged and followed Charlie at a more sedate pace. “Okay. I guess we’re going for a ride.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Charlie

  Three hours. I was on my bike, eating up the asphalt, for three goddamn hours, and I was no closer to a solution than when I pulled out of my driveway back in Mayhem. Maisie’s unexpected visit had made everything clear, and by everything, I meant nothing at all.

  Helping Savannah had gone just about as Jasper said it would, straight to shit. But of all the things I did
n’t know, I knew that helping her was the right thing to do. Maisie could be pissed off all she wanted, the same way my dad, my uncle and my whole damn MC had objected to her marrying into the Ashby family, but she did it anyway, and we all shoved down our objections and helped her celebrate.

  There was too much to think about to worry about Maisie’s misplaced anger. I had to figure out where Aries and Gemma were, and rescue them if necessary. I needed to come up with a plan to keep Savannah safe while killing the Black Jacks who would, no doubt, go to war to get her back. When they had her in their clutches again, they would kill her just because they could. And then there was the issue of Ronan and The Crusaders. It wasn’t my fight, but thanks to the club’s connection to the Ashby family; it was now.

  You wanted to be Prez so bad and now look at you.

  Savannah’s grip tightened around my waist, and I turned to look over my shoulder. “My legs are getting numb,” she shouted over the roar of the bike.

  I nodded and turned my head back to the road, glancing down at the time. Two hundred minutes and I had nothing to help my club, no permanent solution to keeping Savannah safe that didn’t involve her leaving town. And I still hadn’t figured out what it meant to see Sadie and Mueller having a romantic dinner together. Not a goddamn thing.

  I pulled off the highway into a giant rest stop that had a park to one side and a diner on the other. I parked right in the center so I could see my bike from every angle.

  I faced Savannah and helped her remove her helmet. “Sorry about that, I should have asked if you were okay with a long ride.”

  Savannah swung one long leg over the bike and jumped off with an exaggerated sigh and a lopsided smile.

  “No problem. I didn’t realize leg numbness was a side effect of riding a motorcycle. It was nice though.” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly while she twirled in a circle, gaze fixed on the night sky, then spoke over her shoulder. “You okay?” she asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Savannah kept her gaze focused on the stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. “You seemed like you really needed to ride. I mean, your cousin is kind of crazy, but I can see how that little outburst could weigh a little heavy on you. And combined with adjusting to your new responsibilities as President of your club and harboring the daughter of an enemy. Dude, you’re fucked.”