Colt: Demons of Destruction

by Jacqueline M. Sinclair

  He couldn’t imagine Maci living through losing them both. Her father’s death couldn’t have been easy, but watching them both fade away over time? He didn’t want to think about the struggle. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  She blinked, and the woman he’d met was back, a little harder, and a little more guarded than before. “What about you? I did some research before I drove out. Did you not think you could have revenge and a football career, too?”

  Colt’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure don’t go ‘round sugar coating questions, huh?”

  Maci could have smacked herself for asking that. She barely knew this man, had just met him, when she’d been ordered off to solitude with him. She felt somewhat entitled to ask questions, but the last one may have been pushing it, though.

  Colt grew quiet. He didn’t have a problem watching her. It was unnerving how he just stared. Not accusing, not questioning, just…studying.

  “That’s kind of creepy,” she finally said.

  “What?” he asked, like he had no clue what she was talking about.

  “You. Just looking at me and not saying anything.”

  Colt shrugged and laid one arm across the back of the booth, the other toying with his coffee while the waitress set their plates in front of them. “I was just wondering.”

  “About what?”

  “What you saw at the clubhouse that turned you on so much.”

  Maci could feel the heat rushing to her face. In a heartbeat, it was as red as the vinyl covering the booth they were sitting in. She wished she could just melt into it and disappear. The waitress’ snort didn’t help. Maci shot her a warning look, refusing to be shamed. The woman shrugged, unable to hide her amusement. She sat the last plate on the table and walked away. “That escalated quickly,” Maci stammered.

  Concentrating on her coffee didn’t erase the image of his grin. It was etched into her mind. He found her amusing. Here she was, literally running for her life, and he was relaxed enough to call her out. “I’ve just never been around so much…free love,” she said, struggling to find the words to sum up the scene at the clubhouse.

  She’d never considered herself a prude, but years of caring for her mother, and then straight into an unbearable workload with the diner and school, hadn’t left her much time for boys or experience. Maybe the curiosity is what attracted her attention. What kind of person has sex right out in the open, not to mention all the other stuff going on?

  “You don’t have to be an exhibitionist to enjoy some good loving,” Colt explained, his voice etched with humor.

  “You’d have to have been a blind nun not to get turned on by all that.” Maci could feel the blush deepen and knew her inexperience was written all over her face. She risked a look at Colt.

  His handsome face had squared up and gone serious. He cleared his throat and reached for his fork. “Let’s eat and get back on the road.”

  She wasn’t very hungry, but she had a strong urge to fill the silence. She kept her eyes down, studying Colt from beneath her lashes, watching how the muscles in his arms rippled and flexed beneath his skin when he moved. She watched the meticulous way he ate all his grits before moving on to his toast, and then his eggs.

  Had he ever done that? Had sex with a girl in front of everyone like those other bikers were doing? Hell, one girl was just sitting in a guy’s lap, without a shirt, playing with her breasts while he just watched. Right there, out in the open. She’d never have the nerve, but she couldn’t deny she’d been excited by it.

  “Anything you don’t eat?”

  Maci abandoned her thoughts and drug her eyes back to Colt. “Sorry?”

  “I’ll get up later and run to the store for a few things while you rest. Anything you don’t eat?”

  She shook her head, distracted by the visuals still consuming her thoughts. She needed to get her mind off that and back to the present. She knew she was safe with Colt. Hank had said so, and despite their reputation and terrifying presence, she trusted them.

  Hank said they’d be staying at the cabin for a few days. Maci was glad. She needed the escape from reality, even if it was only a couple of days. She might as well enjoy the breather while she could. “Not really. I’m fine with sandwiches and stuff.”

  Colt was studying her, his green eyes searching hers. “You want to tell me what happened?”

  Maci sank into herself. Yes. She felt like it was a wall between them. No. She didn’t want this man to blame her for the death of his father. She wanted to tell him everything and get it off her chest. Maybe it would bring her some peace in a way that telling Hank hadn’t. “When the time comes.”

  Toying with his fork, Colt gave her a slow nod.

  She shook her head, his patience with her, forced as it was, just made her feel worse. He looked different from the pictures she’d found at the library. She didn’t even recognize him at first. His dark hair had grown out and curled at the ends. He was still huge, like in the pictures, but his leather vest hid much of his bulk. Cut. Hank had called it a cut, not a vest. Still, Maci couldn’t help but notice how his short sleeves stretched tight over his muscles.

  He was also much friendlier, and down to earth, than she’d expected. He was confident, and had a great sense of humor. In fact, he didn’t act any different than all the other men she knew who had given up a promising football career to join a biker club. Maci smiled at the thought, but Colt’s voice cut through to her happy place.

  “You done?”

  The almost frustrated tone of Colt’s voice snapped her back. “Yeah, I’m good to go, if you’re ready.”

  Colt didn’t seem fazed by her shaky response. He was already standing, mumbling, “Been ready,” as he threw some bills on the table. Taking Maci by the elbow, he led her outside and didn’t let her go until they were standing at his bike.

  Maci waited for him to climb on. She could still feel the sting of his sudden change in personality and she was at a loss for what to say. What’d you expect? The man had been ordered into exile with a woman he didn’t know, for reasons he was unsure of. And you want him to make nice?

  Climbing on behind him, Maci rested her hands at the waist of his low-slung jeans, grateful she’d gotten comfortable, confident, riding with him. She didn’t feel the need to hold on for dear life anymore, which should please Colt.

  The engine roared to life, drowning out the sounds of the early morning. At least they were almost there. Once at the cabin, she ought to be able to make herself small and stay out of his way.

  This chick was trouble in more ways than he could count. He felt protective of her, not just because of the information she was apparently holding on to, but because her tough demeanor was tamed by a very real vulnerability that stirred something deep inside him.

  Bringing up the clubhouse had been a mistake. He didn’t know why he did, except her demure little smile had brought several images of Maci to mind, none of them appropriate to be dwelling on in public.

  Her flushed skin, her body language, told him everything before she even opened her mouth, and it was sexy as hell, but he needed to keep his head in the game. He needed to treat this like any other responsibility Hank had given to him. There were still his unanswered questions about the Rebels, but he knew enough in his gut that whatever her involvement was with them, it put them all on a fine line.

  By the time they turned off the black top, onto the narrow dirt path that led to the cabin, Colt had talked himself into treating her just like any other club chore. No reason he shouldn’t, but he was almost regretting he hadn’t taken Jess up on one last fuck before he had to take off. Spending the next few days holed up with Maci was going to test his restraint.

  Pulling around the back side of the cabin, Colt shut off the bike and waited for Maci to climb off. He stretched, grabbed her bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

  The sun was barely up, but gave plenty of light for them to see their way around the side and to the front door. So why did he fee
l the need to put his hand on the small of her back and guide her over the uneven brickwork? “Watch your step,” he warned, as if to explain his unnecessary touch.

  Letting them in, Colt flipped a switch, shedding light on the dim, one room cabin. He pointed to a door across the large space. “That’s the bathroom.”

  He watched, waiting, while Maci surveyed the room, her eyes lingering on the queen size bed that dominated the far left corner. “The old ladies come up every month or so to clean and replace some stuff. Coffee, can goods. We’ll be fine a few days with just a few things.”

  Her chin lifted slightly, acknowledging him. “I wouldn’t mind a shower before bed.”

  Colt slid her bag off and passed it to her, watching as she took it and disappeared into the only private space around. Fuck. This was bad news.

  Feeling too edgy to sleep, Colt searched the cabinets, found a fresh can of coffee, and put a pot on. He opened the backdoor that led to a screened porch overlooking the lake, trying not to think of the woman in the other room, the missing link to his father’s death. She was the key to months of inquiries, empty Intel, and innuendo.

  No, there was more to her than that. He needed to get his mind off her perfect fucking body, and that demure, innocent smile of hers, and concentrate on the task at hand.

  Her arrival would bring an end to this. Or the beginning of war with the Rebels. Either way, he knew in his blood that the next life taken would bring more. That’s the way their world worked.

  Stepping back inside, Colt poured a cup of strong, black coffee, and brought it back out on the porch. The sun was just breaching the trees and it looked like the water was on fire.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Colt stiffened, but kept his attention on the sunrise.

  “I didn’t expect all this.”

  He didn’t bother asking what she had expected. He could imagine, given the free love flowing at the clubhouse. “It’s a getaway. Brothers get to use it when they need it.” He nodded to the left. “The land turns back to the water just past that bit of trees. It’s a high bank, not accessible.” He waved the cup he was holding in the other direction. “The dam is over there. No access to the water between here and there unless you want to carry a boat over fifty yards of rock. You’re safe.”

  Maci stepped onto the porch and leaned her elbows on the railing beside him. “I never doubted that.”

  He looked at her, surprised to see her dressed, her wet hair dropping rivets of water onto her shirt, leaving trails down the front of the thin tank top she wore. Even in the early morning light, he could see the tented outline of her nipples through the fabric. “I thought you were going to bed,” he said, his eyes raking over the rest of her clothes.

  “I didn’t think about pajamas. I’ll sleep in this.”

  Colt pulled his eyes back over her long legs, spilling out from the shorts she wore. They weren’t slutty, by any stretch of the imagination, but with all that skin to cover, they sure as hell weren’t long enough for him. He sat his coffee on the ledge, tugged off his cut, and pulled the t-shirt he was wearing over his head. He shook it out and handed it to her. “Can’t promise it’s clean, but it’ll cover more of you up than what you have on. And be more comfortable.”

  Maci took the shirt and held it up to her. It almost came down to her knees, proving him right. “Thanks.”

  Her soft voice was tired. Drained. For the first time since she’d walked up to him at the clubhouse, she almost sounded defeated.

  “Get some rest. Shit won’t be much better in the morning.”

  She glanced back out at the water, but lowered her face to the planked floor when the tears gathered and streaked down her face. Colt knew better, but he pulled her into his arms anyway, holding her until her body stopped shaking. She grew quiet, then he swept her up, and carried her to the bed.

  Setting her feet on the floor, he pulled the covers down, pulled his shirt from her hands, and tugged it over her head, holding it out so she could put her arms through the holes. “You can do the rest.” He kissed the top of her head and turned away, leaving her to climb in and settle down.

  Maci woke to the sound of a boat speeding by on the lake and the smell of Colt’s cologne. She stretched, pushing off the covers, and searched the room. He was nowhere to be found.

  Climbing out of bed, she took in the fresh loaf of bread on the counter, some fruit, and other items. She hadn’t even heard him leave, let alone come back.

  The door to the screened porch was open and Maci eased closer, finding Colt’s body dominating the wicker couch, facing a TV bolted to the wall in the corner, protected by the roof. The volume was turned down and a sports channel played on the screen.

  She was tempted to sit in the matching swivel chair and just watch him sleep, but judging from the sun, it was pushing noon, and her belly was ready for a meal. Besides, how creepy would that be?

  Leaving him to rest, she pushed the door closed to muffle the sounds of her moving, and checked the refrigerator. Maci didn’t know what was normally there, but she couldn’t imagine that Colt hadn’t gotten the half gallons of milk and orange juice. There were eggs and a fresh pound of bacon.

  She pulled them out and laid them on the counter, checking the freezer out of curiosity. There was plenty of frozen meat in there. Steaks, hamburger. The Demons sure knew how to plan ahead.

  Maci set to making breakfast, cooking enough for Colt to eat when he got up. She ate alone, cleaned up the dishes, and straightened the bed. At a loss for what else to do, she eased out on the porch, and pretended to enjoy the day while she checked out Colt.

  How did a man like him get mixed up with a club like the Demons? It didn’t fit, but then again, what did she know about bikers, let alone men?

  His hands were tucked behind his head, his face turned slightly in her direction. He was shirtless, though he would have had to get dressed to go to the store, but he still had on the same snug jeans, and his clunky, black boots. Her gaze traveled back up to his zipper and the bulge of denim. Could that even be real? Proportionate wasn’t even applicable, here.

  “You done?”

  Maci jumped, startled at Colt’s deep voice cutting through the silence. “I-um-I was just waiting for you to wake up.” Her heart was racing in her chest, the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears.

  Colt swung around, sitting up. “Who said morning wood was just for mornings?” He gave her a wink and stood, completely unashamed. “I smell food.”

  She was still trying to convince herself to breathe again. Embarrassing. How long had he laid there watching her inspect his crotch? Ugh. Spinning the chair around to face the lake, Maci made up her mind not to go inside. She couldn’t face him.

  The sounds of him heating up the plate she’d left covered on the counter quieted, and she imagined him standing at the counter, wolfing it down. Minutes later, the toilet flushed and the sound of his boots grew louder as he made his way back to her.

  He took a seat back on the couch, but Maci still couldn’t face him. “Thanks for the food,” she mumbled.

  Colt kicked his feet up onto a chair that sat across from the couch. He didn’t answer her.

  “This is awkward.” Her words were low, whispered under her breath, but Colt heard them just the same, and his laughter echoed around them.

  “I’m the one that woke up having my junk inspected.”

  Even with her back to him, Maci turned a fresh shade of red, but she was unable to stop the giggle. “Sorry.” She straightened her face and turned her chair to face Colt, who was watching her, waiting. Despite the banter and sexual tension, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. She was deceiving him, in a way.

  “Just know, I’m so sorry.” Maci took a deep breath. How do you tell someone their father was dead because of you?

  She felt exposed as Colt studied her, but she endured it, realizing she deserved so much more. How was he going to act once he learned the truth?

  He stood and went inside with
out a word. Not knowing what else to do, Maci let him go.

  “I’m not wearing that.”

  Colt rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “For fucks sake, why not?”

  Maci’s mouth dropped open, her fists on her hips. Despite his frustration, Colt had to bite back the grin at this girl defying him. But she wasn’t playing. “Do you have any idea how many women have worn that bathing suit?” Her nose scrunched up, emphasizing her disgust.

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m sure it’s clean,” he argued, but when she snapped her mouth shut and cocked her head, Colt gave up. “Fine.”

  “Would you wear somebody else’s underwear?” she pressed.

  Going down to the water should not be this difficult. They’d spent almost thirty minutes trying to find Maci something to wear. “I’d just go without,” Colt snapped.

  “I’d rather go without than risk somebody else’s crotch rot.” She crossed her arms, refusing to budge, but Colt was floored. This woman. Christ, he didn’t know whether to gag her or worship her.

  “Fine by me.” He took her by the hand and dragged her out onto the screened porch. He flipped the hook from the latch on the door, and led her down the stairs. “Crotch rot,” he grunted. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

  “TV,” she snapped. “Maybe I read it, I don’t know, but I don’t want it.” She pulled away and Colt let her go. He’d taken chairs and towels down to the shore an hour ago, but it was getting too late to lounge in the sun. It was low in the sky, but it was still hot enough to enjoy a swim.

  He stopped at the water’s edge, and crossed his arms.

  “What?”

  Colt smirked at the squeak in her voice, knowing he was pushing her limits, but she deserved this. Besides, he was dying to see what she looked like beneath her clothes, and he wasn’t going to pass this up. Maci had disappeared earlier to put some shorts on, but he was pleased that she hadn’t changed out of his shirt.