Dirty Salvation (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 1)
Page 39
"I hate this Christmas music crap. It's November for fuck's sake."
The basket hooked over Zara's arm was half full already, she turned a surprised look on Capone. For more than fifteen minutes he'd walked silently at her side, not saying a word when she deliberated over whole nut chocolate or plain dark but the sound of Frosty the Snowman got him talking?
"You're not a fan of Christmas?"
"Not really. And not when I can still wear sunnies outside. Commercialism fucks with the seasons too early if you ask me." His shades were hooked into the collar of his shirt. Something on his tight face had her wondering if it was more than that, but she didn't question it. She liked Christmas, or she had once upon a time.
"You about done, Z-girl?" His voice pulled her from her thoughts, he kicked a glance from her to her basket. Zara was nibbling on her lip holding two candy bags in each hand, One of milk duds, the other 3 Musketeers bites.
"I wanted to take Rider something back, but. I'm unsure which he'd like. Do you know?"
Capone grinned at her, rubbed a hand over his short clipped dark hair, his Latino eyes even darker on the chocolate scale making them appear near black, he stepped closer to inspect both. His head came down, studying silently. He smelled of motor oil and rich sandalwood shampoo. "Can't say I've noticed Prez chowing down on candy. But you already bought the store, what's two more, right? take them both."
She smiled liking that logic so she took both.
Capone carried the brown paper sack in his arms, and as he opened the car door for her he paused. "Can I say something to you, niñita?" he deposited the bag to the back seat.
Curious, it sounded serious, Zara nodded.
"I see you and Prez together. I think you're good for him, ya know?"
"Oh. Well. Thanks "
She was startled into a loss of words, a full-scale flush creeping onto her face because it was evident now all Rider’s boys had seen her display stamping her claim all over their president and after the fact she was still a little mortified she’d had the guts to do it. To have his blessing meant a great deal to her. More than she’d realized. She wanted Rider’s friends and family to like her, it was important, these were his people, she was around them as much as he was, how fucking awful if they hated her (Hawk not included)
"Niñita. I got eyes in my head. It’s none of my business what you and the boss have between you. I just like seeing him happy."
Capone flashed her a grin. Before his face dropped and he glanced away and added.
"Listen. You have been through some bad shit, and that is not my business either to know, but understand when I say you're good for Rider. We all see it and think it's beuno. He's a good man, probably the best man I know, he took me in when I lost my family." Zara watched as his face tightened, almost as if he was shutting those thoughts down. Before he continued. "He didn't question it, just signed my transfer papers from out West and took me in and I became one of his. There's nothing I wouldn't do for Prez, niñita. You can trust him; I don’t know a more decent man. The boss carries the whole world on his shoulders. This is good, you’re good for him."
She heard a warning in there somewhere. Take care of Rider ... or else. Rather than scare Zara, she smiled wide at him.
Rider was surrounded by such good people you wouldn’t expect to see within an MC, people who loved and cared for him would protect him at all costs.
Outlaws with hearts. Who would rip out a throat in a second if you crossed them. Somehow the thought endeared her to every one of those men.
Wasn't that what made a person rich these days. No true wealth could be kept in a bank; it was in who loved you. Reaching out, she patted his arm, giving him comfort for whatever put the sadness in Capone's eyes for a second. Had the man really lost all his family? how sad... but in the Renegade Souls, she hoped he'd regained some of it back. She thought of her own family, wondered if she would ever reach out to them again. Maybe one day when she was stronger. She'd need to be to deal with her mother's questioning, not to mention her father's disappointment when she told him she never wanted to be a lawyer at all. Maybe one day, she thought.
"I understand, Capone." She said finally.
He seemed satisfied with her reply. His mouth quirking in a devastating smile. God help the woman who roped him in, she mused, he would be hell on her heart and libido.
“Do you know why his nickname is Rider?” Zara tipped her head to the side, curious now for all information on Rider. She was always hungry for it and wouldn’t mind a bit drilling Capone for it on the drive home.
Mostly she got her information from Uncle Jed. He was a terrible gossip.
Capone’s chuckle was rough. “Because he will ride anyone’s fucking soul straight into Hell if you messed with him or his club.“ and while Zara smiled back slightly, her thought was it suited Rider.
An outlaw with a heart of. Well, not Gold, because her man was bad to his sexy bones, badness he’d used to help her and she didn’t mind him being just the way he was, sometimes paths were not paved in roses, but in the thorns and it was those that maketh the man.
In her humble opinion, Rider was pretty fucking perfect just as is.
She quietly quizzed Capone for more things about Rider on the drive back, and what do you know, the man talked and talked and talked, laughing some, as well. But he never said another word about his own background.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Goddamn it, there’s a candle burnin’ in the bathroom. If that doesn’t mean we live together I don’t know what does, Icy.” – Rider
The season was drawing ever closer to Thanksgiving, the days were relatively sedate, some bipolar crap was happening with the weather because of instead of the snow she wanted, Zara was wearing a pair of khaki shorts with a simple tank top, it was all she could stand to wear with the weather in the high eighties.
Pretty-Boy had dropped her off at the house after work that night while Rider was busy working on a customer’s bike, she was tired, hot and hungry and wanted the aircon on full blast. She’d been dreaming of that cold air all day stuck behind a desk sifting through unpaid bills and invoices. “Thanks, Mace.” she’d told him, waving him goodbye at the door, he waited until she was stepping through before he pulled off away from the curb. He’d going to look at cars with her tomorrow if Rider couldn’t, she really wanted her own vehicle again and since her renewed license had come through she was itching to get behind the wheel. She’d seen the one she wanted. Who could resist a yellow car? Those bikers could shut up with their teasing, they obviously didn’t know style.
After a shower, tying her hair into a high ponytail up off her nape, and wearing another pair of shorts, pink this time, she went about fixing dinner.
Zara had never been much of a cook, it had always been her mom’s domain and then she had been on first-name terms with the cafeteria staff within the college campus so it was a surprise to discover she liked looking through recipes online. Rider had an old Samsung tablet she’d found in an office drawer, using it now, propped on the counter against a jar of jalapenos, she pulled the fixings for tagliatelle with bacon and chorizo from out of the fridge.
Not suitable for the hot as hell weather, but as any woman knew sometimes only pasta would do. She was a slave to the carb monster and didn’t mind a bit answering its craving call. And to pacify Rider’s meat fanatic-self she’d put together some beef patties, left them chilling in the fridge for him to grill later.
A while later she heard the familiar pipes of his bike roar up the street and pull into the small port out front. Her heart as always sped up like a hurricane. She was smiling in anticipation of that first fix of him, she only wished she looked better. It was still so hot and she was sweaty at her temple, nothing she could do now about that, or her makeup-free face.
Not as though she was trying to play his old lady.
Not like they lived together or anything.
Officially, anyway. Even if he spent every night with her.
Not that she didn’t love being with Rider and she found she could be independent as she liked with him right there naked in her bed.
Or naked on the couch.
Naked in the shower.
She smiled to herself. She liked him around. Period. And also naked.
When he stepped through the door, shoulders wide as the door frame, in his custom Renegade Souls leather jacket and his hair escaping from the bun, Sia was playing quietly on the radio perched on the top of the fridge, she cast a look over her shoulder, ready to smile at him. Only his tense face had her pausing.
“I didn’t expect you so soon, did you finish up on the bike? Jed said you were waiting on a part for it.”
“Yep.” Across the floor, he tossed his jacket over the back of a kitchen chair and dropped a kiss to Zara’s forehead before grabbing a beer from the fridge, cracking it open he’d drank half in a long gulp, his throat working momentarily distracted Zara. Long-muscled neck and his guns on show, it was a wonder she remembered to take an inhaled breath.
“I have burgers ready to go with pasta if you’re hungry.”
“Sure,” he answered, leaving his beer bottle on the counter he washed his hands, Zara’s brows folded down. On any given day, Rider wasn’t much of a talker, didn’t discuss his feelings or thoughts, didn't bullshit a conversation just to fill in the gap of silence but this was different.
“Has something happened, Rider?” Hades came to mind immediately, her pulse sped up. Rider continued to run the soap through his fingers, globs of oily suds dropped into the sink. He didn’t reply. “Rider? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Zara, drop it.”
Her pale eyes narrowed. That told her it was something. She fidgeted with the dish towel she was holding ready to hand it to him. “Drop what? I don’t even know what’s up.”
“Leave it alone.”
“Rider...please tell me if something bad is happening.”
“Zara…” his warning clear. It dripped cold as ice. Her breathing increased because now she really did think something bad was happening with Hades and he just wasn’t sharing with her.
“Excuse the fuck out of me for wanting to know what’s wrong with you. You look like you’ve been chewing on wasps all day. Forget I asked. None of my business what has your panties in a twist.” and with that, she gave him her back, she needed food, he could be in his pissy mood the rest of the night for all she cared. Her hand pressed shakily to her belly giving away her true feelings.
She heard his sigh clear across the kitchen.
“I've had a lousy long day, I want a goddamn beer and a fuckin' burger, not an inquisition but I’d like a shower first so check the attitude, Icy, before I check it for you.” He threw the towel into the sink, those blue eyes of his she loved to stare into was devoid of any humor.
“You did not just threaten me!” Eyes round as flying saucers glared at Rider.
“Yeah, baby. I did.“ He was already tearing the shirt off over his head, tossing it onto the same chair with his jacket. His snapping shrewd blueness glancing her way before sliding away.
Who said that it was only women who were emotional? Because she recognized Rider’s easy-going temperament now she knew it was something he wasn’t letting her in on. She could only think the worse, her belly churning.
Do not ogle. Do not ogle. Zara ogled just a little bit, skimming her gaze down the long span of his tanned chest, his waist tapered in at the sides with deep V-grooves.
As good, as sexy, as he looked it didn’t excuse his shitty behavior.
“Look in the mirror, baby,” she stressed the endearment mockingly. “That’s the only attitude you’ll find here. Now if you’ll stop getting naked and get out of the kitchen I can make dinner finally. I’m hungry even if you’re not.”
“Zara.” she heard his exhalation again but ignored the desire to look over at him, instead she busied herself getting out too many pans she didn’t need. The poor salt shaker, it did nothing to deserve the death grip as she reached into the cabinet wrenching out spices.
Stupid bad biker man had her in an annoyed state now and she didn’t even know why!
“Zara … baby...” along with the hoarse sound of her name she felt his hands span her hips, pulling her back into him, she resisted sinking into his body, though that was difficult, she loved being cradled by Rider.
“Don’t you have a shower to get to.” she informed snappily.
Rider rested his chin on top of her head, reaching around he took the salt and pepper pots out of her hands, just as well, they were being strangled.
“I’ve had a shitty day, baby. And I’m an asshole. Tell me how many fuckin’ orgasms I gotta give you to get you sweet again? Gimme a number.”
Tingles crawled up Zara’s back, like a spider’s web of instant pounding lust. She was human. His voice alone affected her deep in that pulsing place in her vagina, that place he tormented with his fingers and cock as often as he could, but with an offer like that, it was a wonder she wasn’t panting and shouting out one hundred and ninety. Her thighs clenched, the hood of her clit tingling.
“Sex doesn’t fix everything.” her body disagreed heating up like a giant magnet that was only pulled in Rider’s direction. She tried to jostle him away with her butt, he only held her hips tighter, his face in her hair. “Just tell me it’s nothing to do with Hades? I can’t. I need to know if it is, Rider, please understand, don't keep me in the dark with this, you not saying what is it only makes my brain going crazy thinking the worst.”
“Nothing will happen to you.” deep growled assurance in his tone and while she believed him it didn’t stop the terror that lived in her twenty-four seven. No one could understand it and now Hades had shown his hand once more not giving any fucks by killing Tiny, it was only a matter of time before--- “You think I can’t protect what’s mine? You still don’t get it yet? You’re all mine, Zara. Your pussy, your beautiful fuckin’ mouth, that crazy mind that jumps half-cocked. All of it belongs to me and you should grasp by now I take care of what is mine.”
An itchy warm feeling crawled through her body. “You sound like a caveman who doesn’t want to share his carefully crafted shovel. Careful I don’t beat you over the head with it.” He allowed her to slip out from under his hands when she faced Rider his eyes were slits. “And that’s not a damn answer to what I asked. I don’t need protection, only not to be kept in the dark.”
Deadly quiet he asked. “Who you wantin’ me to share you with exactly, Zara? Far as I see it there’s only me takin’ care of your pussy. Am I wrong? You got your pale eyes on someone else?” His words were like a boulder to the chest, emptying her lungs of air.
Silence. Though she did open her mouth and closed it right back up. That wasn’t good enough for Rider she could see from the stubborn tilt of his chin as if he were saying she’d set this train on its track she better fucking take it all the way goddamn home now. Jesus. When he was wrong he was sooo wrong.
“Waitin’ for an answer.”
Her own chin went up. “Just because you say you’re waiting doesn't mean I must jump, Rider. I’m not one of your boys. You’re being stupid, that’s not what I said at all, you twisted my words into something ugly and hearing what you want to hear. Only that you have outdated notions on what you see as yours.”
She felt the air stir like trying to walk through thick sludge in nothing but flip flops, this conversation was escalating fast.
She should have just left him to his shitty mood and beer.
Zara had her own annoyances today that had nothing to do with a six-foot moody biker who seemed to have climbed off his Harley the wrong way.
She was sleeping very little. It might have something to do with the psycho who was still terrifying her from the shadows. But that was just a stab in the dark guess.
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After her visit with Angela had gone well a few days back, it got Zara to thinking of her own family back in Boston who to this day thought she was still backpacking around the world.
Seriously, backpacking.
She’d never slept outdoors once in her life.
It was the lamest excuse she’d given on the biannual phone calls Hades had allowed her to send her family so as not to arouse suspicion of her sudden disappearance. Call him a psycho but he had tied up all those loose ends, unfortunately. Of course, her parents hadn’t been pleased, far from it, they believed she was on drugs or worse, for dropping out of the internship position her father had set up for her with his law firm.
She’d be on the trajectory to being a junior partner had it all panned out as her father had wanted.
Things happened for a reason, a season or to learn a lesson. Zara still couldn’t quite figure what role Hades and co played in her life, other than monsters exist. Until he was found she was always going to fear the shadows. She’d never have peace.
“You didn’t answer. Is your bad day to do with him? I have a right to know.”
“I said I’d tell you if we knew anything.” it didn’t directly answer her question but it dialled back on some of her rising anxiety. “You’re not mine, Zara?”
Oh, sweet hell.
She inhaled, held that one single breath in her lungs before letting it go calmly. She’d seen this man throw his head back in the hardest belly laughs, she’d seen him joke around in the bike shop with his brothers, not to mention when he was feeling romantic slash wanting to get into her pants. She’d even seen him in his rare dark moment that night of his raid when he’d resembled an avenging devil, but it was the first time she’d seen his eyes flat cold and on her. Snakes crawled through her belly.
She frowned looking him dead in the eye. “I didn’t say that.”
“Far as I can see that’s exactly what you said. Unless you sayin’ I’m goin’ deaf now.” strange how a pretty large kitchen can shrink considerably under the scrutiny stare of a bad biker man leaning against the cabinets, arms folded over his naked chest. “You’re in my bed every night.”