Wheels of Fire (Hollywood Demons Book 3)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  That might be difficult since what’s beating in DeLova’s chest is probably black and pumping acid instead of blood through his veins.

  “You have my word,” he promises.

  “Good, because I would hate to lose you forever.”

  Mallory

  Outside the prison, I collapse against the truck door, my head hitting the window with a thump. My heart’s never pounded so fast and my knees are so weak I can barely stand.

  Did I really say those things to my father? I’ve never spoken up. Talked back. Voiced an opinion to him. Not once in my life.

  Chaser presses his body against mine and kisses my forehead. “I am in awe of you.”

  I lift my shaking hands between us, staring at them. “I can’t believe I threatened my father.”

  His body quivers and when I glance up, he’s laughing.

  I sock him in the gut and he laughs harder. “It was beautiful, Mallory. Every fucking word. Priceless. Poor bastard. I almost felt bad for him.”

  I growl and press my hands against his chest to push him away. But he captures my wrists and pins them at my sides. “I’m serious. After the shit I’ve put you through the last few months, you standing up for me means everything.”

  “I was standing up for myself too.”

  “That means even more.”

  My gaze slips to the prison doors. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Neither do I. But he’s got no reason to come after me right now. We promised him we’d wait until he’s out to get married.”

  “Screw that. I don’t want to wait. I don’t want our wedding to be a big affair that belongs to everyone except us.”

  He swallows hard. “What do you want, little dove?”

  “Let’s elope. We can do it in California without telling anyone. We’ll have the big, expensive, showy party for our family and friends later. No one will know the difference.”

  “Mallory, I want to give you the world. Everything you desire and deserve.”

  “Do you know how many of those ostentatious weddings I attended growing up? I wasn’t the starry-eyed little girl sitting there fantasizing about my own poofy white dress and bag full of envelopes stuffed with cash that everyone felt obligated to bring.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “No, I dreamed of getting married barefoot on the beach and curling my toes in the sand when I said, ‘I do’.”

  “Yeah?”

  I hook my fingers in his belt loops and tug him closer. “I dreamed of a man who made me feel loved, cherished, and protected every day repeating his vows next to me. A man I chose for myself.”

  His eyes search my face. “That’s me, little dove.”

  “It is,” I agree, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his jaw and whisper in his ear. “If I’d known my future husband had all these glorious muscles and beautiful ink, I would’ve run off to Hollywood much, much sooner.”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “Glorious, huh?”

  I tease my fingers under his shirt, tracing my fingers over smooth skin and hard muscles. “A work of art.”

  “Are you sure you want to be a rock star’s wife?” he teases.

  “No, Chaser. I want to be your wife. No matter what you do. No matter where we end up in life, I want to be by your side.”

  I pull in a deep breath. Everyone seems to be worried that we’re too young to understand the magnitude of this commitment.

  And all I am is grateful we found each other now, so we can spend a long, long life together.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mallory

  I don’t know what possessed me to throw the blue leather dress in my bag before I left L.A. It wasn’t because I had some sort of premonition about Chaser proposing, that’s for sure. I’m still having trouble believing this is real and keep stopping to stare at my ring. Maybe I knew there wouldn’t be anywhere in Kodack to buy a truly killer outfit if we attended a club party while we were here.

  Tonight, it will serve as my engagement party dress.

  My father would probably insist his princess wear something demure and classier for an engagement party. But demure isn’t really done here at the Devil Demons MC’s clubhouse.

  Skintight leather dress it is.

  “Fuck,” Chaser groans. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you in that.”

  I dangle the dress in front of me and wiggle my hips. “I’ll require your assistance to squeeze into it.”

  “I swear to fuck if one of my brothers looks at you sideways, blood’s gonna be spilled tonight.”

  “Stop.” I rifle through the tiny closet in Chaser’s clubhouse room. “Shoot. I wish I’d brought those silver heels with me. All I have here are black ones.”

  “Wear those black lace, fingerless gloves with it then,” he suggests.

  “Chaser Adams, are you helping me accessorize?”

  He squeezes his eyes shut and holds one fist in the air. “No, I’m picturing you giving me a hand job while wearing those gloves and your engagement ring.”

  I fling one of my shoes at him and somehow he opens his eyes and catches it mid-air. “I got the reflexes of a cat, baby.”

  “And the urges of a tom cat.”

  “That too,” he agrees.

  The bedroom door rattles on its hinges and a few seconds later, flies open.

  “Knock much, old man?” Chaser growls at his father.

  “Sorry.” Stump grins. “Heard you yapping, so I figured you were both decent.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Can we have a word, son?”

  “Sure.” Chaser leans in to kiss my cheek and whispers in my ear. “I’ll help you with the dress when I get back.”

  After they leave, I rummage through the closet, wishing I’d brought more stuff from the house with me. There’s a knock at the door and I rush over to open it.

  “Mallory!” Doe squeals and wraps me up in a big hug. “Stump told us the news. I’m so happy for you, darling.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re going to be a good old lady for Chaser. I feel it.” Her eyes sparkle.

  I step back and must not look too sure.

  “What’s wrong, hon?”

  “I don’t think I can be his old lady if we’re out in Hollywood.” I meant it as a joke but it comes out so serious, Doe pushes the door closed and nudges me over to the bed to sit down.

  “Sweetheart, I get that the club is…unfamiliar to you but it’s in Chaser’s blood. Accept who he is now or don’t marry him.”

  My eyes must be snapping fire because she sits back and holds her hands up. “The club will be your family now too, Mallory.”

  “I…” I turn and take in the small bedroom. “My father’s in prison. I don’t want that for Chaser.”

  “Chaser’s a smart man. Like his father. Trust him. Always have his back.”

  “I do.” I swipe at a stray tear. “Sometimes I feel like it’s us against the entire world.”

  “It’s not, honey. I promise. The club always has your back too.” She lifts her head and stares at the door for a second. “I can’t tell you how many times Stump was ready to ride straight to California and kill some of those pricks who write that garbage about you two in the papers.”

  “What?” I moan and hang my head. “Stump’s read that crap? He knows it’s all lies, right?”

  “Of course. We all do. Hell, honey, you two never stop eyeballing each other long enough to notice anyone else in the room. No way you’re seeing anyone behind Chaser’s back.”

  “Sheesh.” I blow out a breath, mortified they’ve read those stories.

  “The only thing stopping Stump is that he knows how much Chaser wants to keep the music thing separate from the club. It’s more for the club’s protection, than Chaser’s.”

  I can see that. While news spreading about my father would probably kill my career. Chaser’s connection to an MC would only enhance his rock-n-roll “bad boy” image. But it would also draw unwanted attention to the MC.

  “I know Stump likes to t
ease and call you princess.” She pats my back. “But you’re made of strong stuff, Mallory. Let go of your fear. There’s no room for it in this life. Shit gets ugly sometimes.” She twists her wedding ring around a few times. “But you can’t appreciate the beauty of life without the ugliness.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, let me see this ring.” She reaches for my hand. “Then, it’s time for a celebration.”

  Chaser

  Dread settles in my stomach as I follow my father into his office.

  “How’d the visit with DeLova go?” he asks once we’re both seated.

  “Even better than last time.” I give him a quick rundown of our meeting. Complete with Mallory’s threat if her father comes after me.

  “Jesus Christ, did she wave a red flag in front of him too while she was at it?”

  “I think he understood her message fine.” I sit forward and knock my knuckles against the desk to gain his full attention. “He’s a misguided, ruthless man, no question. But somewhere deep down in his black soul, he loves his daughter.” I almost add, just like you care about me, but even though my father’s as savage as they come, comparing him to a ruthless snake like DeLova seems wrong.

  The creases in his face seem deeper than ever. “There’s no reason to rush into marriage.”

  I knew his positive attitude about our engagement wouldn’t last. “I’m not in the mood for your ‘don’t settle down until you’re forty’ bullshit, Dad.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about.” He holds out his hands in a settle down gesture that has the exact opposite effect on me. “Don’t lose your shit, I’m about to get blunt with you.”

  “Since when have you ever had any tact?”

  He doesn’t laugh. “Mallory doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl with a lot of experience.”

  Muscles in my neck tighten. I narrow my eyes, putting every ounce of warning into my stare. “Tread carefully, old man.”

  “Hear me out before you flip your shit.”

  He waits for a beat and when I don’t say anything, continues. “I get that it’s exciting. Makes you feel like a king knowing yours is the only dick she’s ridden.”

  “Are you motherfuckin’ serious right now?”

  He holds his hands up in a truce gesture but it still feels like the worst of this conversation hasn’t punched me in the jaw yet.

  “I’m not asking you to confirm or deny. I don’t need details to see how innocent she is, son.”

  “Fuck off,” I snarl.

  He stares down at his desk and traces a pattern over the worn, scarred wood. “I met your mom when she was still in high school.”

  The fury boiling inside me threatens to spill over into throwing punches at my old man. “Great, so you’re a class A perv.”

  “Maybe.” He nods. “Didn’t look at it that way back then. She always jumped on the back of my bike willingly.”

  I groan, but I can’t deny there’s a part of me curious to know more about their history. But not in this context.

  He clears his throat and barrels ahead. “It was a rush to know I was the only man she’d ever been with—”

  “For the love of fuck—”

  “Hear me out. We were…extremely compatible and I loved teaching her everything—”

  “Jesus Christ, I’m begging you to stop.” I shift in my seat and stare at the wall over his head. “Just stop.”

  “All I’m saying is, it’s fun and exciting now. But ten, twelve years from now she might start to regret that she had no other experience. Regret can drive even a good woman away.”

  That’s it.

  I stand and slam my fists on his desk, leaning over so I’m right in his face. “Are you really trying to say Mom wanting to sow some wild oats is what made her abandon us?” Each word drips out of me like slow, molten venom. “Is that what you want me to believe? Do you think I’m so fucking stupid I forgot that you cheated on her left and right? Do you think I don’t remember listening to her sob her heart out on the nights you didn’t come home? You’re trying to lay all the blame on her? Because she didn’t fuck around enough before you married her? Is that the point you’re trying to make?”

  He works his jaw from side to side, then glances away. “I’m not saying I was perfect.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “You’re both young. But Mallory…she’s really young and inexperienced.”

  “So, what do you suggest? What’s your solution to this problem you think we have? Want me to lay her out on the pool table and offer her up to my brothers?”

  “Jesus, fuck no, you little asshole.”

  “Then what point are you trying to make with this disgusting, shitty conversation?”

  “She must have guys tripping over their balls to nail her out in California.”

  Thank fuck I left my hunting knife at home because I would definitely gut my father right about now.

  “Maybe let her explore some.” He shrugs. “If she comes back to you, great. No regrets down the road. For either of you.”

  “Are you going senile, old man?” I rub my fingers over my throbbing temples. “Is this dementia talking?”

  “What about that lanky punk at your show?” He snaps his fingers, trying to recall the name. “Andrew. He was panting after her all fucking night.”

  Revulsion burns the back of my throat. “Are you suggesting I offer my future wife up to my friend? Loan her out, like she’s a fucking car? Let him break her in some more and see if she still wants me when he’s finished with her? Is that the kind of man you think I am?”

  “She seemed into—”

  “Do not finish that sentence, old man.”

  “I’m trying to save you some heartache later in life.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Yesterday you were welcoming her to the family and today you’re—”

  “It’s not just for your sake, but for whatever kids you two might have.”

  He did not go there. “Fuck you. Mallory would never abandon her children. She’s not some starry-eyed teenager believing all the lies some old predator fed her.”

  “I never lied to your mother.”

  “That right? You were up front and honest about all the clubwhores you’d be fucking behind her back? You honestly believe Mom riding a few more dicks before she settled down with you would’ve made her okay with your whore harem?”

  He rolls his shoulders, a sign we’re dangerously close to finishing this conversation with our fists. “I know what she told me before she left.”

  “All your screwing around broke her damn heart, you oblivious fucking asshole!” I take a breath and calm myself. No matter how much I want to stab my father to death right now, I don’t need the rest of the club to hear me yelling at our president. “I’m finished with this discussion.”

  He opens his mouth but I can’t listen to another word. “Don’t ever bring this up again.”

  “Russell...” He sounds so broken I almost want to apologize but I can’t bring myself to say the words. Not after this. “I’m trying to save you some pain.”

  “Yeah, well, this conversation did more damage than anything Mallory could ever do to me.”

  I slam the door when I walk out of his office and smile with satisfaction when something crashes to the floor inside.

  Tally’s at the bar watching me with a bland expression.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Everything okay?”

  I haven’t quite gotten over the irritation of how close he and Mallory were while I was battling my cocaine demons. Even if he never hit on her, it still ticks me off. I glance back at my father’s office. Then again, the old man is the one who sent Mallory out with Tally in the first place. To piss me off, no doubt. Now I wonder if he had this “experimentation” theory in mind back then?

  Whatever’s going on inside my demented father’s head isn’t Tally’s fault. He’s a brother. I’ve known him a long time and we have plenty in common. />
  I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “Relationship advice from the old man wasn’t high on my list of things I wanted today.”

  He snorts. “Neither of our fathers are qualified to advise anyone on that topic.”

  “Amen, brother.”

  Brothers stomp into the clubhouse, ready to celebrate. A few of the old ladies stop by and pat me on the shoulder or kiss my cheek to congratulate me.

  Tally watches the room for a few seconds before motioning me closer to him.

  “Mallory’s a good girl, Chaser.” His gaze shifts to the side. “What you two have is real. I respect your dad as my president. Love him like a brother. Hell, he’s been like a second father to me for most of my life, but don’t let him fuck up what you and Mallory have together.”

  “Thanks, brother.” I slap his shoulder in appreciation.

  “Go get your girl. It’s time to celebrate.” He lifts his chin toward my father’s office. “Worry about it tomorrow.”

  Fuck that. I have no intention of letting the seed my father planted take root.

  But that’s the thing about intentions.

  The road to hell is lined with ’em.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mallory

  Whatever Chaser and his father discussed must have been unpleasant. He returns to our room in a foul mood, slamming the door behind him and letting out a string of curses.

  “What do you think?” I pose and flash my hands—partially covered in black lace gloves—at him.

  His bitter expression dissolves. “I think you’re beautiful and I can’t wait to be your husband.”

  “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  “Come here.” He holds out his arms and even though he’s the one who seems to need the comforting, I take shelter against his body. “I love you so much, little dove.”

  The emotion in his voice sprinkles fear over our sweet moment. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives. Always.”