Scout: Tempest Elite MC

by Reagan Phillips

  Scout

  Tempest Elite MC Book # 4

  Reagan Phillips

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Note From The Author

  Books By Reagan

  Chapter 1

  India

  I'm a duck out of water.

  At least, that's how my father would have described me sitting at a tall table in a dark and smokey roadside bar. The girls from the temp agency I work with had wanted to meet up for drinks and being new in the city, I take every chance to meet new people I can get.

  "India."

  My name breaks though my thoughts of home. Tina, from the billing department at my current placement, is calling my name and running her tongue over her bottom lip.

  "Don't look now, but there's a guy by the bar who can't take his eyes off of you."

  Joanne is sitting between Tina and me. She slaps Tina on the shoulder and huffs before she addresses me. “Don't pay her any attention. Tina is so horny, she'd do it with a doorknob if she could figure out the logistics. Though"—Joanne throws a quick glance over my shoulder, and her eyes change from a sky blue to almost cobalt—"he is something to look at."

  I'm intrigued now, so I turn, and both the women scream at me not too in unison. They are too late. I find the guy they're talking about and he’s staring right at me as I do. Staring so hard, in fact, I feel the flames of his glare lick along my skin and heat my cheeks.

  He's tall, which I've always found attractive in a man. He has dirty-blond hair, which is cut a bit longer in the front than the back and hangs down over his eyes. My grandfather would call him built for work, with broad shoulders and a slim waist which drops down to—

  I stop studying him when my gaze lands on the inseam of his jeans where something long and thick bulges along his inner thigh. When I glance back up, he's still staring, and he knows exactly where my eyes have been.

  I swing back around in my chair and grab the one beer I've been sipping on all night.

  "Damn, girl," Tina chirps in my ear, "who knew long skirts and sweater sets were kryptonite to bikers."

  "Bikers?" I repeat. I’d spent too much time studying his face and that one lower asset to really notice much else about him.

  Tina drops an elbow to the table and rests her chin on her hand with a sigh. "He's a member of Tempest Elite. I saw the patch on the back of his jacket when he turned around a few minutes ago."

  "I didn't get past his ass," Joanne adds.

  I'm blushing even hotter, and the beer is too warm to help cool me down. It's not that I've never been with a man before. I have. I had a boyfriend from high school until last year, and we...did things, even if those things wouldn’t be considered going all the way.

  The man staring me down now is pure sex, and my body knows it. My nipples are so hard they ache, and the pulse between my legs grows stronger every time I think of the long swell next to his zipper.

  "He’s not someone you date casually. They’re known for their possessiveness toward women."

  Joanne glances behind her after she speaks, as if she's checking to make sure he hadn’t overheard her.

  "Oh, come on," Tina chimes in again. "India isn’t looking for someone to settle down with. But it's got to be lonely here with so little friends, and a good man sharing a warm bed is the perfect medicine for loneliness."

  When Tina smiles at me and holds her beer up, I smile back and clink my bottle with hers. I don't want to come off as too pure, so I play along.

  "Shit," Joanne reaches in her pocket and pulls out her vibrating phone. "It's my damn husband. Probably can't figure out how to work the microwave to warm up his TV dinner."

  "No," Tina cries. "Not again. You ran out on us for the same reason last week. Don't you

  deserve a few hours to yourself?"

  Joanne only glares at Tina before she punches something into her cell.

  I'm not paying too much attention because Mr. Hottie has turned back to the bar, giving me the perfect view of his denim-clad ass. He’s fit in all the right places and looking makes my heart speed up. That's how I know he's all wrong for me. Our whole relationship would be based on sex.

  I tune back in as Joanne is finishing off her beer and leaving the table. "I'll see you guys tomorrow. Don't forget it's payday."

  "As if I could,” Tina whines. She waves Joanne off, then gives me an evil grin. "Okay, funs over. Are you going to stare at him all night, or are you going to go for it?"

  "Go for what?" I laugh. She can't seriously think he'd be into me. Plus, other than he's the sexiest man I've seen in...well...forever, I'm looking for something based on far more than animal attraction.

  "You're seriously going to let that walk away?"

  "I am."

  "You're a stronger woman than me." Tina slips off her stool and throws a few wadded-up bills on the table. "I've got to hit the ladies, then I'm out. Wait for me?"

  "Sure." I’m going anywhere alone. It’s dark out and I’m unfamiliar with this part of town.

  Our waitress stops off with our tabs and I hand her my cash and what Tina left on the table. I glance up and the stranger is watching me again. From the way his gaze moves from my face to my chest and back, he’s sizing me up and leaving me to wonder if I measure up.

  My middle pulls tight and I have to look away. I have no experience with bad boys like him, but I’m empty and hollow at my core, and I’m aching for someone to fill that void.

  I’m contemplating my next move, knowing I’m not brave enough to approach him first, when the bar’s front door opens and he tenses. I turn in time to catch three men sauntering in as if they own the place, shouting and laughing over the already high volume of the crowd.

  Stranger Guy puts his bottle on the bar and his full attention lands on the newest arrivals.

  "Is this a joke?"

  I’d been so focused on the exchange going on across the room, I hadn’t noticed when our waitress returned. She’s holding out Tina’s wad of bills and it hits me that Tina hasn’t returned from the bathroom.

  "No joke," I shake my head. My cheeks are hot. I know I'm blushing. "Did she not leave enough to cover her bill?"

  The waitress laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. "She didn't leave enough to even cover her tip.”

  I glance at the dark hallway Tina’s disappeared down, then to the bar where the stranger is watching, and back to the waitress. If I could crawl under the table, I would. “I’m not sure I have enough cash,” I answer timidly.

  “You can pay up, or I'm calling the police." There is no compassion in her voice.

  "Whoa." A deep male voice hits my back, and my skin tingles. I’m expecting to see the guy from the bar when I turn, but it’s the dark-haired, dark-skinned loud mouth from the group that just walked in. "What's wrong here, Buttercup?” He stands at my back and puts his arms on either side of me and his hands on the table until I’m caged in. “Someone stiff you on the bill?" His breath blows across the back of my neck and I shiver.

  I think he's talking to the waitress until he takes the stool Tina vacated earlier and offers to pay the rest of my bill.

  "Thank you,” I say, trying to smile, but I’m shaking and he’s sitting close enough to fill every jerk my body makes. "I’ve got a card." I fish it from my bag and hand it over to the waitress. “You can put the rest on this.”

  "If you say so, sweetheart." Satisfied, the waitress begins to walk back to the register at the bar when my new friend grabs her wrist and plucks
my card from her fingers. "Nah, Ruby." His smile makes my stomach flip. It's thin, and I don't trust the dark look in his eyes. "She's with us now. We'll cover her tab."

  "Fine," Ruby utters with disgust. She rolls her eyes to me. "Just don't sit in my section again, sweetheart. You aren't worth the trouble."

  I'm not sure what she means, but she's off to the bar before I can ask.

  When I turn back to my table, he's talking to me, but I have no idea what he's saying. Alarm bells are going off so loud in my head the room is almost spinning. I feel someone touch my thigh, and I reach down to move their hand, but my wrist is clamped by stiff fingers. A second man from the group has taken Joanne’s stool and the third is making his way over.

  And I was afraid to walk home alone. I thought the dark was where the shadows lurked—my mistake. The danger is sitting right next to me, and I'm powerless to do anything to stop it.

  Scout

  Shit.

  As soon as I clock Cobra crossing the small bar floor towards her, I tighten up. I've already texted my brothers about Devils members being on our turf. We had intel they'd try something tonight, and we have a member staked out at every open business in town. Waiting.

  Just my luck, their prez shows his face at my location. I'm the only guy who doesn't have backup standing by because it's personal when it comes to Cobra and me.

  I knock into a few chairs and people sitting in them on my way across the bar floor to her. Some start to argue with me, but they clear the way when they see the intent on my face.

  I knew Tina Lovejoy would pull this shit. She's a skank, and I mean it just as bad as it sounds. She's tried to get into the club as a sweet butt for years, but she's done so many members wrong, they've blackballed her.

  Cobra has his hand on her upper thigh when I reach the table.

  Flames flicker in my gut as her reaction burns into my memory. She's scared. Trapped. Paralyzed.

  I knew she was too fucking vulnerable to be in a place like this. That's why I've kept my distance tonight while keeping an eye on her.

  "What the fuck, Cobra?"

  By the way he ignores me and keeps his hands on the girl, his intent all along had been to pull me from the shadows.

  "I don’t see your patch on her, Scout. She's free game, and I’ve claimed her."

  She jerks away from Cobra, but the move throws her off balance and she ends up in the lap of Riggs, the Devils’ second in command.

  Riggs chucked before wrapping his arms around her.

  "I don't belong to anyone," she screams and tries to twist herself free. When that doesn't work, she throws a solid punch into Rigg’s right arm.

  She's got more guts than I thought. But it's only going to get her hurt with Cobra.

  "Let her go, Riggs. You're here for me. She’s not a part of this."

  "We're here to have fun.” He throws back at me. “And she looks ready to party."

  He won’t hurt her. They’ve come here for me. But when she glances up with fear in her eyes, I’ve had enough. When I take her arm, Riggs releases her. I pull her from Rigg’s lap, our eyes lock, and it only takes a second to see I'm just as scary to her as the Devils. It burns to see the way her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open as if her next action will be to scream.

  I push her behind me and center my attention on Cobra. "I'm the only fun you're going to have tonight."

  He makes a move to grab her from behind my back, and I go blind. I can see nothing but the impact of my fist on his jaw.

  Cobra falls backward but catches himself on the table behind him.

  Riggs takes a shot at my back. Then another into my shoulder, rendering my punching arm unless for long enough for Cobra to regroup and land a sucker punch in my gut.

  None of them knock me from my feet. Growing up in foster care, you learned how to take a punch before you learned how to walk. And if you ever did hit the ground, you never had the chance to get back up.

  Riggs spins around to my back and tries to lock my arms behind my back. I'm too fast and spin free in time to catch a second punch to my right jaw. It knocks the wind out of me, and I see stars. The distraction makes me miss when the third Devils member finally joins the fight. He lands a double fisted punch to the center of my back, and I'm praying backup arrives.

  I plan to lay low and tire them both out until I get help, but Riggs makes a grab for the girl again. When I push her out of his way the force knocks her to the floor. Riggs leans in to take her and I grab him by the front of the shirt and I pound on his face. Blood splatters and my knuckles crack, but I don't stop until the third guy puts a shoulder into my side and I’m down.

  Cobra is still out, but this third guy had been holding back. He gives me a kick to the ribs that’s going to leave a bruise, and he's pulling his foot back and aiming it at my face when a shower of broken glass fills the air around him, and he crashes to the ground by my side.

  Behind him, my girl stands with one hand covering her mouth and the neck of the beer bottle clutched in the other. She's shaking and tearing up, and when she drops the glass, her bloodied hands cover her face.

  Cobra and Riggs won't stay down long, and I'm still unsure where my backup is. I'm on my feet and I take her by the arm, pulling her to the front door.

  "What are you doing?” she screams in my ear and clamps her finger around the door jamb when we pass.

  I get right in her face, ignoring the fact that she jerks back from me. "I’m saving your life."

  I don't have time to argue or explain. I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder all the way to my bike outside. When I sit her down again, I give her a final warning I hope will keep her from fighting back.

  "If you want to live, Angel, you'll do exactly as I say because those guys in there...they don't care if you're dead or alive after what you just did. They only care that you pay for it."

  I get no more arguments as I fit my helmet on her head and help her onto the back of my bike. I don't have to tell her to hold on. She does out of instinct and fear and smarts.

  She saved my life tonight. There is no doubt about that. And now I must save hers.

  Chapter 2

  India

  I'm holding on for dear life even if every bone in my body is telling me to let go. I don't know this man other than the men at the bar called him Scout and he may have just saved my life. I don't know where we're going or what will happen to me when we get there. All I do know is my only other option is to let go, and as fast as the pavement is whizzing by under my feet, that's not a choice I'm willing to make.

  We speed down streets I've never seen before and only slow when we reach a compound with tall stucco walls and a guardhouse. At the gate, the man who steps out of the guard house looks like someone from out of my nightmares—a long graying beard with a bandana wrapped around his head to keep his long hair back and a full sleeve of tattoos on each arm. The only ink I can see clearly, as my escort slows for the gate to open, is a devil with horns straddling a naked lady whose mouth is frozen open in a scream.

  I shut my eyes tight, picturing myself as that lady and my escort as the devil. Scout pulls into a lot of mostly bikes with a few cars and trucks. As soon as he turns off his engine, his hands are on me.

  "Don't scream," Scout says, lifting the helmet from my head.

  I shake my hair out of my face and take quick surveillance of the place. If I can slip away from Scout and run fast enough, I can be on the other side of the gate before it shuts.

  But where do I go from there?

  "I’m India. They called you Scout back there. Is that your name?” I ask, instead.

  "It’s what the club members call me, yes."

  "Here?” I glance around at the two story L-shaped building. “Is this where you live?"

  "It's our clubhouse." He steps off the bike and helps me do the same. "We're Tempest Elite."

  "And the guys at the bar? Were they members too?"

  "No." Scout hooks his helmet to the back of his seat
and points toward two large glass doors at the front of the building before he begins walking. "Those are our rivals. We need to get inside. I want to check your hand for glass."

  Glass? I lift one hand up then the other. Sure enough there is a ribbon of blood flowing from the center of my palm to the tips of my fingers where it’s been dropping from my hand.

  I remember the bottle, and I remember breaking it. But I don’t remember being cut.

  By the time I look up again, Scout is several car lengths in front of me. I’m a fast runner. I was on the track team in high school and I still take a jog around the neighborhood every so often to blow off steam so it’s nothing for me to turn away from him and run.

  I don't get far before a calloused hand catches my upper arms, and I'm jerked back into a hard chest. Scout's mouth hovers over my ear, and his breath blows over my hair. "Don't play stupid, Angel. As soon as you set foot off this lot, they will be waiting for you.”

  My skin breaks in a cold sweat and I twist my arm to break free, but he only holds me tighter.

  "Stupid would be trusting you after what I saw you do to those men,” I spit out.

  "They were going to hurt you," he growls in my ear. His raspy voice should scare me, but it doesn't. It's exciting, and I'm sick with myself for not feeling more threatened.

  "How do I know you're not going to do the same thing? You're a biker just like they were. What makes you different?"

  He releases one arm and spins me to face him. His jaw is set, and his eyes dark and brooding. "We are not all the same. Don't ever compare me to them again."

  He's angry, and the energy he's throwing off has my skin prickling. "If you don't want to be compared to them, then don't act like them. Let me go."

  He laughs. It's a harsh sound followed by a harsher grin. "And Cobra and Riggs will hunt you down." He glares. “You don’t knock out a member of the Devils without paying the price. I’m trying to protect you.”