Sour Cherry

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Sour Cherry Page 4

by Nichole Severn


  Chapter Five

  “Ryder must have called in every alliance in Nevada and Southern Cali,” I said once we’d reached safety. “I sure as hell don’t remember either of our clubs being that big. Even together.” I paced back and forth across the barren concrete, trying to sort this all out while holding pressure against my bleeding arm. The wound wasn’t as bad as I’d thought, a scratch compared to what it could have been. I’d need stitches, but I’d live.

  The warehouse we’d sought refuge in smelled like old diapers. In the background of my thoughts, I kept tabs on Cooper who meticulously cleaned the knife he’d used to kill Talon. Only the calls of pigeons and my footsteps echoed in the giant tomb. I didn’t even know where we were. Two, maybe three hours north of Vegas?

  Cooper hadn’t said a word since our narrow escape and I had half a mind to beat the answers I wanted out of him. What was it about him that brought out the violence in me?

  His lowered eyes had offered so many promises before, but now seemed cold.

  “You realize you killed an Original? Talon helped found the Outriggers.” I wasn’t sure where I was headed with this line of conversation, but it’d be nice if Cooper at least acknowledged me.

  “Would you rather have me let him kill you?” He threw the rag he’d been using in my direction. “Use that to clean yourself up.”

  In a burst of uncontrollable anger, I stalked over to him and wrenched the knife out of his hand. Luckily, he’d been holding the tip down and I was able to get my fingers around the hilt instead of the blade. “No. Of course not, but you didn’t need to kill him.”

  His brown eyes blazed, his lips spreading into a thin line. “What exactly do you want from me? You’re the one who got us into this mess.”

  The accusation in his eyes cut deep, but laid the blame where it should be. Guilt flooded my gut when I realized just how far I’d go to save my own life, even at the expense of others. I dropped his knife to the floor and turned away. “You’re right. Guess that’s what I get for blindly following orders.” If it hadn’t been for my foolish desire to prove myself to the club, I never would have offered to make that pickup. Satan’s Army never would have stolen the shipment from me, and neither Cooper nor I would be in some rotten warehouse, hoping to live a little bit longer. I took a deep breath and faced him again. “You should go. I can make it to…” I rubbed my eyes with my fingertips. “Hell I don’t even know where I’ll go.” I dropped my hands, inhaling roughly again. “You don’t deserve to be wrapped up in it.”

  His brows furrowed, that sharp jawline growing even sharper.

  I motioned toward the door with my chin. “Go. I’ll be fine. Tell them I took you hostage.” I chuckled at the possibility, my nervousness taking form in the shape of laughter.

  His body tensed as if he considered staying and hope flared in my chest.

  When I really looked at it, this could be the opportunity I needed to start over. I didn’t doubt my ability to disappear, but some company would be nice in my new life. We’d already connected on an intimate level. “Unless you want to stay.” I tried to keep the enthusiasm out of my voice, but failed.

  “Let me look at that.” He nodded toward my arm.

  “It’s fine.”

  Wrapping his firm grip around my bicep, Cooper pulled me forward. He ran his thumb over the wound ever so lightly. The pain made me flinch, but not nearly as much as the heat from this finger sinking into my skin. “You’ll live.”

  He dropped his hold on me, bent down, and picked up his knife. He offered it to me. “Keep it. You’ll need it.”

  I nodded absently, studying the craftsmanship of the blade. It didn’t resemble anything I’d seen before, not that I was an expert in the field of knives, but it looked custom-made.

  He turned his back on me and walked toward the door. “Try to stay alive,” Cooper called over his shoulder.

  I stared after him, unable to speak around the disappointment flaring in my chest. You, too.

  ****

  The warehouse didn’t come close to the comfort of the bed I’d taken to for the past two days. The bed being Cooper’s. With my back against one of the concrete columns, I lolled in and out of sleep, never really able to get comfortable. My body shivered in protest against the cold desert wind of the Nevadan winter. Despite the temperature hitting ninety degrees during the day, a night out in the open, with only my cut to keep me warm, froze me to the bone.

  Sometime during the night, I’d laid down completely, Cooper’s knife hugged against my chest. I wasn’t sure my death drip on the hilt came from high levels of paranoia or the fact I missed him. Either way, it helped drag me into sleep’s oblivion.

  ****

  Sunlight seeped behind my eyelids, effectively ruining the only sliver of sleep I’d been able to find all night. Without opening my eyes, I brushed my hair out of my face and wiped the drool off my lips.

  “I’ve never heard a woman snore so loud before.”

  I bolted upright. Every sense in my body searched for the knife I’d gone to sleep with. When I couldn’t locate it, I settled my gaze on the man standing above me. It took a few seconds to clear my blurry vision, but when I did, my breath hitched. “What—What are you doing here?”

  Cooper gave me a closed-lipped smile. He ran a hand through his wind-blown dark hair. “I’ve been thinking—”

  “That you wouldn’t be able to go back?” I checked my face for more drool and pushed myself off the hard floor.

  “No.” He dragged the word out on his perfect lips and experienced tongue. “That you won’t be able to fight them on your own.”

  His statement pulled me up short, making my body tense in all the places the floor had made sore. I felt the blood drain from my face and turn my stomach. “I don’t want to fight them. I want to get away from them. And you know what...” I shoved my hand down my shirt through the collar.

  “What are you doing?” His velvety voice drifted over me like his kisses had two nights before. Nobody had been able to turn me on with just the sound of their voice.

  I pulled the money out from my bra and presented it to him. “A thousand dollars. That’s all I have left. If I go up against my club, they’ll kill me.” I dropped my hand, exhaustion from lack of sleep, looking over my shoulder, and life in general taking over. “To be honest, I’d rather have the money than a gravestone.”

  “You want to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life?” Cooper stepped in closer, too close, his intoxicating scent of peppermint and man enveloping me. It clouded my senses, made me dizzy with lust.

  “At least I’d be alive.” The last of my grogginess wore off with his expression.

  “Cherry.”

  I loved the way Cooper said my name, his husky voice crawling over me, but I enjoyed his hands on my upper arms even more. He made sure to avoid the healing bullet wound, which I silently thanked him for. I’d been recreating our one-night stand in my mind since it’d happened and his touch promised a rematch. With images like that in my mind’s eye, I couldn’t think clearly. I didn’t want to see the irritation in his eyes and I forced my gaze toward the floor like a stubborn child. I gritted my teeth in frustration and against my better judgment, took a leap of faith. “What do you get out of this?”

  He dropped his hands. I don’t know if he sensed my apprehension or if he figured out his touch was making my brain go all fuzzy. His broad shoulders rose with a deep inhale. “Vasquez sided with the Outriggers against club vote. We take down your club, Vasquez goes with them.”

  “And you get the president’s chair,” I finished for him.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you considered just outright killing him? I mean, you’re the VP after all. Doesn’t matter how he’s forced out.” I didn’t normally condone the act of murder, but in extreme circumstances, such as saving my life, killing a man warranted consideration.

  “I want the seat fair and square. Besides, if the club found out I’d killed a member of my
own crew, they’d put a bullet in my head.”

  “And how do you propose we take down the Outriggers?” I never thought I’d betray my club, not even when undercover cops and ATF agents came knocking. Turns out, I didn’t need that much of a push, just the right motivation. Cooper, however, needed to give me more reason than just some power play.

  “That’s where you come in.” His brown eyes danced with mischief and suddenly he fisted my leather cut to pull me in close. His breath tickled the sensitive skin beneath my jaw as I looked up at him and I shivered with the contact. “You’re an Outrigger. You were privy to certain information. Exchanges. Meetings. Allies and the like.”

  “I’m still the low woman on the totem pole, Cooper.”

  Confusion pulled his brows together and added a couple wrinkles between them. “What do you mean?”

  I pressed my palms against his muscular chest and stepped out of his hold. If I wanted to make a logical and clear decision concerning my club, I needed the ability to think. “I mean I’m the last member sworn in. I don’t get the memos as much as you might want to believe.”

  “You’ve been an Outrigger for two years. You’re their goddamn VP for Christ’s sake.” The confusion on his face carried into his voice, almost making his statement more of a question.

  I nearly laughed. “Wow. You haven’t done your homework, have you?” I shoved my hands into my cut’s side pockets and met his gaze. “You really think a patriarchal motorcycle gang would reveal its innermost secrets to a twenty-six-year-old woman? The only reason I got the position of VP is for honorary reasons. If Ryder ever stepped down, he’d never hand the gavel over to me.”

  “Then why name you VP at all?”

  “Because guilt is a fickle bitch.” The words left my mouth more forcefully than I’d meant them to. I hated the fact that the only reason I’d been considered worthy for VP was because of my father. I hadn’t even known the man before he’d died. I was ten and in reality, how much did a ten-year-old girl really know about her father? I searched the warehouse as a distraction from Cooper’s prying eyes, but felt inclined to explain. “My old man was VP when he died. Ryder, my dad, and a couple other members were out riding on the 215 one night. My dad was the only one who didn’t make it back.”

  “Hence the honorary,” Cooper whispered, then turned his back on me. He stared out into the lightening warehouse and I imagined his thoughts turned to figuring out a Plan B.

  I thought back over the last two years, reliving critical decisions I hadn’t been a part of for the club, constantly having to prove myself to my “brothers”. That night of the exchange crossed my mind, too. The memory was more than three days old, but remained crystal clear in my mind. I went over every detail again: the shot-out streetlamps, rusted vehicles, and barking dogs. The junkyard on Trop was high on the rotation for exchanges with fellow clubs, but that night seemed…off. I couldn’t explain it at the time and I couldn’t explain it now. I’d stood there for more than a half hour waiting for the other party. The Nevada branch of Hell’s Angels ran more than twenty minutes late. Not a habit they were known for. The entire time I stood there, I thought something was wrong and when 9:40 p.m. came around, my suspicions deepened.

  I snapped back to reality when I realized Cooper had been speaking to me. “What?”

  “I asked how your arm is.” He motioned to the cut on my bicep and I quickly covered it with my hand.

  Embarrassment surged through me. It was because of my stupidity and fear that I’d gotten myself shot. “It’s fine. Just a knick.”

  “Let me look at it.”

  I didn’t move as his fingers caressed my oversensitive skin. Heat flooded into my neck and face and I tried to hide the blush letting him know exactly what his touch did to me.

  “You’re right. Just a scratch. Should heal fine.” Those fingers tightened around my arm. Cooper’s voice dropped an octave and went husky. “You’re lucky your Sergeant at Arms is a bad shot.”

  I tried to keep my breathing even as his hand and his eyes lingered on me. I cleared my throat in an attempt to sound nonchalant, like his warmth didn’t bother me. “So now that I’m useless to you, what are you going to do?” I looked down to find his thumb tracing the outline of my favorite tattoo on my wrist, the vulture atop the eight ball.

  “Not useless.” He didn’t elaborate and the heat coursing through my veins intensified.

  Other parts of my body reacted, too. My legs shook from the exertion of trying to hold me up. Where his thumb circled my wrist, my pulse raced. I worked to take deep breaths instead of the shallow ones aching to control me. And the sensitive spot between my legs throbbed in time to my heartbeat.

  Without warning, his lips captured mine.

  Why couldn’t I have woken just a few seconds before he’d arrived to slip a mint into my mouth or at least a piece of gum?

  Cooper pulled me in closer, his chest melding with mine, and my thoughts of morning breath died. Still wearing the shorts he’d purchased for me, I felt every fiber of his jeans scratch my legs, my senses heightened from his presence. Through the jeans, warmth seeped into me and relaxed my muscles one by one. His lips fed on mine with frustrating slowness. Soft, yet demanding. A small hint of the passion we’d shared two nights ago echoed as my fingers tightened on his upper arms. I felt his pleasure through his jeans and pressed my hips into his.

  A torturous moan escaped his lips and I smiled against his mouth. I’d made him call out my name before and wondered if I could do it again with a simple kiss. In the next moment, however, he pulled away in one lithe movement then straightened my club cut.

  I snapped my mouth shut after the shock wore off.

  Cooper dropped his hold on me and stepped back. “See?” he said with a smile. “You’re not so useless.”

  Chapter Six

  Cooper was really starting to piss me off.

  I didn’t know how to interpret our kiss and he didn’t bother to explain. His hot/cold moods shifted so abruptly sometimes, I felt as if I’d get whiplash. I’d never been able to trust cold-blooded men, ones who could turn their emotions off at the drop of a hat. Seemed unnatural, but maybe that was because I was a woman who’d stepped into a man’s world.

  Despite my knees gripping him on either side to prevent me from falling off the bike, I kept myself distanced mentally and emotionally.

  The passing wind brushed my hair back from my face as we sped down open road. Desert surrounded us entirely, but glimpses of the city caught my eye every now and then. My lungs pulled in the dry air and I relaxed a little further into the cushioning. The smell of exhaust from the cars ahead of us tickled my throat. Sunshine beat down on us and I rolled my head back to enjoy the speed. The weight on my shoulders lightened considerably with simple exhilaration. I’d missed this kind of freedom. As far as I knew my bike remained back at Cooper’s apartment since I’d been unconscious when he brought me to the safe house. I didn’t even know if the Outriggers had come across it yet. Wouldn’t have been hard. I’d left it in the street and I always left the keys in the ignition. Nobody dared steal from a member, just like petty criminals never stole from drug dealers. More trouble than it’s worth. Still, I ached to sink into my bike’s comfort, wrap my hands around her grip, feel the warmth and rumble of her iron heart.

  Cooper turned his head toward me. “Hungry?” he yelled over the rush of wind.

  I patted his shoulder to signal my answer. I hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. From the sign up ahead, Pahrump promised exactly what I’d been craving, too. Hamburgers.

  Less than two minutes later, Cooper pulled the bike into a local fast food parking lot. I wasn’t exactly a fan of “pink slime”, as reporters called it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. There was even a PlayPit in the rear of the building. Food and playtime were sure to take my mind off my club and Cooper. Double bonus.

  I dismounted first, running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to control the windblown effect
riding always took on me. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Cooper removed his helmet and hung it from one side of the bars. “Shoot.”

  “Why’d you kiss me back there?” I’d had over an hour to think of his predicted responses as my knees squeezed his thighs from behind. Several of the choices I’d heard from guys before. “Why not?” “Felt right.” “You looked like you wanted me to kiss you.” “Because I’m desperately in love with you.” Yeah, I know. The last one came across a bit conceited, but the same little girl who wanted to go play in the PlayPit wanted her feet swept out from under her. In fact, what girl didn’t? What Cooper said, however, did not make it into my list of possibilities.

  “My dick told me to.”

  I waited to see if he’d meant it as a joke, his expression serious.

  And after a moment, I doubled over in laughter. Barely able to breathe, snot and tears streaming down my face, I tried to control myself. The fit lasted at least thirty seconds and when I was finally able to breathe, I wiped the tears from my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” I inhaled sharply. “I laugh at inappropriate things. Sometimes when people get hurt, I can’t stand up from laughing so hard.” I waved my hands at my eyes in an attempt to dry them, sniffled, and physically shook myself. “I’m good. I almost want to ask what your dick is telling you to do now.”

  He walked past me, a smile pulling at his lips, and headed toward the side door of the restaurant. At least he had a sense of humor.

  I followed a couple steps behind, taking in the way Cooper strode across the parking lot like he owned it. Strong shoulders called for my attention and sent a zing straight between my legs. I let my gaze linger on his ass, torturing myself more than anything, but didn’t feel ashamed. With short brown hair, dark brown eyes and a body most men spent hours in the gym for, Cooper set me on fire. The lopsided grin he’d given me at the bar back in Vegas appeared as he glanced at me over his shoulder, increasing the heat simmering beneath my skin. It’d been that smile that’d gotten us into trouble in the first place.

 

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