by Rie Warren
I rushed to the bathroom and retched into the toilet. The contents of my stomach emptied, but I couldn’t stop heaving.
Brodie leaned against the stall. “You see? If that’s your first reaction, how the hell do you think Cat could’ve told you?”
I stumbled to the sink. I ran cold water and splashed it on my face. I looked in the mirror at him. “And then what?”
“What do you think? She hit rock bottom farther than anyone could ever expect to fall, that’s what. We all did. She hated herself.” He swallowed hard. “I seriously don’t know how she did it, how she managed to put herself back together. She didn’t start using again. There’s some kind of strength in her, you know? She did the rehab, sobered up. Got her head on straight. Snapped out of the free fall.”
“Did she get a chance to mourn them?”
“Yeah, man. She does it every damn day. Do you honestly think she’d ever hit the smack again? After all that?” He prodded my back and I turned around. “Listen, you don’t corner the market on misery. You’re not the only one terrified of feeling again.”
Jesus Christ. He was so right. “I need some air.”
“Yeah, you stunk this place up but good.”
We huddled on the bench that rested along the front of the garage.
“Me and Boom got our sleeves done to show our support for her. She thinks we’re just waiting for her to fall apart again, but that ain’t true. We’re her only family, all she has left. You know how you got all those fans raving for you?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s pretty rad, man. Boomer and I are Cat’s biggest supporters. At least we were until you came along. I think she finally saw the truth with you. Believed she could be the person she always wanted to be without holding herself back.”
Planting my elbows on my knees, I wrenched my hair in two fists. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”
“Don’t know. She might-could forgive you.”
“When did you become Cupid?”
“When you turned into a stupid schmuck.” He slid a sly grin toward me.
Fair enough.
“You gonna fix this shit or what?” Brodie asked.
“Right now.”
“’Cause I still got a grave with your name on it if . . .”
His plans for a Nicky Love funeral were interrupted when a cop cruised into the parking lot on a gold and white Mount Pleasant PD motorcycle, the rear tire walloping against the pavement.
The officer hit the kickstand and took off the helmet, revealing thick blonde hair in a tight ponytail. Josh came out the door with Ray trailing right behind.
“Fuck me.” Brodie muttered beside me.
Officer Ashe Kingston stopped in front of us. “Nick, nice to see you again.”
“You’ve got a good memory.” I tipped my head and offered my hand.
“You’ve got a memorable face,” she said. Brodie shifted next me, huffing under his breath. “Just part of the job, anyway.” She smiled at me.
Her warm clasp met mine, but her voice was cool and crisp when she turned to Brodie, no handshake offered. “Broderick.”
Broderick? I almost goddamn chuckled.
“How do?” Broderick pulled off the pleasantry with a sneer.
When she joined Josh at the door, Brodie narrowed his eyes on me. “You know her?”
“I met her briefly with Cat. Is that another problem?”
“What’s she still doing sniffing around my sis?” He moved around on the bench, glaring through the windows of Stone’s. “Mt. Pleasant’s finest.” His harsh tone made the comment an insult rather than a compliment.
“To hear Cat tell it, she helped turn her life around.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a difference of opinion about Officer Kingston.”
I didn’t need to get in the middle of another family affair. I pushed off the bench and made my way to my bike. I shook Brodie’s hand. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“I appreciate that. Go talk to my sis. Please. Her hissy-fittin’ is way better than this lost soul act she’s got going on about you.” He clenched my hand and drew me in. “Don’t be a stupid fuck this time.”
****
With one brother in my corner, I had another big bastard to contend with. As I pulled up on my Chief outside the Chrome and Steele compound that also housed the Presidents of Retribution MC, Boomer was waiting out front. Huge and hulking, he blocked the doors to the offices.
Brodie must’ve tipped him off. Having my back or throwing me under the bus? The jury was still out.
When Boomer crossed arms the size of steel girders over his chest, his black leather jacket creaked and the seams groaned. He braced his feet wide. “You gave us your word you’d take care of her.”
I got off the bike and took off my helmet. Pushing my gloves into my back pocket, I met his stance. “I did.”
“What’ve you got to say for yourself?”
“I fucked up. I mean to make it right with Cat, at least apologize to her. I owe her that much.”
He spit to the side of me. “Seems to me you owe her a lot more than that.”
While he talked, a line of rough looking outlaw dudes exited the MC side of the building. They assembled beside Boomer. Wearing their cuts, sporting an assortment of goatees and mustaches, at least half the men inhaled from half-smoked cigarettes while the others polished chunky rings on their leather vests.
One of the older guys crushed his unfiltered smoke beneath the sole of his boot. “This here’s Catarina’s guy?”
“Yeah,” Boomer said.
“Are you sure he’s good enough for her?” The handlebars of his graying mustache curled into long commas beside his mouth.
“Depends on whether she throws him out on his ass.”
“Hmm.” He stroked one wiry comma to a sharp point.
The door tinkled behind Boomer. Cat edged next to him. My first sight of her after nearly a week was another slap to the face. She was all tidy and tucked in, but her eyes were puffy and red-ringed. The cold wind had to slice through her thin black blouse, but she stood tall, not shivering, not meeting my gaze.
“Cut the crap, y’all.” Her chilling stare swept up and down the line of biker guys. They grumbled before swaggering back in the direction they’d come.
Everyone except Boomer, whose glare never deviated from me.
She got in his face. “Back off, Boom.”
“I’m not gonna let Nick here dick you around again, sis.”
“I am twenty-six years old. It’s about time you and Brodie started giving me some credit for knowing how to take care of myself. Or maybe you don’t trust me either? Now. Back. Off,” she hissed.
“Fuck.” Boomer stepped out of our way, scowling hard.
I held the door open for Cat to pass through. The cold of the air clung to her like frosty armor. I followed her into an open front room where a receptionist sat at a desk, filing her nails while she talked loudly on the phone. Cat swished through to the back with a curt nod at the heavily made-up blonde. She entered a door at the end of the hall and was already sitting behind her desk when I entered.
I made a quick inventory of her office. Furnished in chrome and steel, of course. Parts books were alphabetized on a tall shelf. The desk was cleared of all clutter, except for two photographs. When I stepped around the corner of her desk, I took in the framed picture of her parents on one side and across from it her and me, dancing at Josh’s wedding.
She slapped the frame down face first.
“Here to accuse me of more lies? Or maybe you just want to see my heart break some more.” That proud chin lifted. “Too late, I won’t let you hurt me again. I knew you weren’t worth the risk. You coward.”
I finished rounding her desk and sat on the corner.
Her chair screeched back. “I don’t know why you’re here. And that photo of us means nothing. I just haven’t had a chance to set it on fire yet.”
“I came to apologize.”
&nbs
p; Jumping to her feet, Cat blazed, “Apologize? I told you everything about me, the most disgraceful parts of me, and you threw me out! You think an apology is going to cut it?”
“I’m sorry, Cat. I . . .” I touched one finger to her neck where the pulse jumped. “I didn’t want to fall in love—not with you, not with anyone—because people frigging die. Why do you think I threw myself into my books for so long and kept with the one-night stands? But, woman, you hit me hard.”
Her lips curled into a distant half smile.
“Daniel’s death did a number on me. I know you know what I’m talking about.” I reached for her hands, tucking both inside of mine and bringing them to my chest. “It was my gut reaction because I do not want to lose someone else I love. You’re right, I am a coward. I cut my losses before I could get hurt again. Except I hurt even worse for it, for not listening to you and understanding you or making you feel safe and loved and cherished. Goddammit, Wildcat, you are the best thing that ever happened to me, and instead of showing you that, I was an absolute asshole.”
“You really hurt me. That’s why I don’t . . . I don’t open up easily.” She took a step closer.
“Me either, darlin’, but we work.” Drawing her that last pace to me, I exhaled when she relaxed in my arms. I breathed in deeply when her hands clasped my back. “I don’t want to lose you. I’m so sorry, Cat.”
Her voice muffled by my jacket, she murmured, “I’m sorry, too.”
I stroked her back in long motions. “Brodie told me about your mom and dad.”
“Oh God.” She crumpled from my arms into the chair. “You hate me even more now? Is that it? Did you come to rub it in?”
“Jesus Christ, no! That’s not it at all. Didn’t you hear me? Will you look at me? Just look at me, Cat.” I dropped to my knees by her side and tugged her hands from her face. “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m ashamed of myself for the way I treated you. You are the strongest woman, the strongest person I’ve ever met. That’s what I should’ve said to you other night.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I killed my parents, Nick.”
I dragged her against me and held tight. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.” I murmured against her hair, “But you didn’t kill them.”
“They wouldn’t have died if it wasn’t for me.”
“I don’t believe that. It’s horrible. But you can’t blame yourself. You weren’t driving the car that hit them.”
Cat shuddered against me until the sobs slowed. She kept her fingers curled against my chest. With a last hiccup, she drew back. I was there with tissues and the tips of my fingers caressing her face. We huddled behind her desk, sitting on the floor, arms around each other. After a few moments of silence, she sat back and unbuttoned her shirtsleeves. She rolled the black material to her elbows.
Her fingers trailed across the mesmerizing designs, following one of the Dias de los muertos skulls. “These are called catrinas.” Her huge damp eyes, more ice than blue, peered at me. “For the Day of the Dead, to remember those we’ve lost. I thought it was fitting for my mom and dad. I wanted them—wherever they are—to know I changed. It was too late, but I did it.”
“And Remember?”
“For them. Always for them, and what I did wrong. To remember to be strong.”
Pressing my forehead to hers, I stroked her arms. I kissed down her cheeks to her lips. The soft pull of her mouth drew me closer.
My own ghost still hovered over me. Abruptly, I rose to my feet and put the desk between us.
“What?”
I grabbed the hair at the back of my neck. “I never forgave Daniel. I grieved and I went to fucking counseling, but I never forgave him. He left me! He died in front of me and left me.”
“You couldn’t save him. Trust me. No one could’ve saved me when I was shooting up. You have to let him go.” She kissed me. “Let him go, Nick. And forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
“If I have to forgive you for acting like a dipshit, then yeah, you do. I lied to you.” She leaned back, her lips growing into a slow smile. “I want my pardon, too.”
“Done deal, darlin’. I still think I need to do penance or something. I was a complete and utter bastard to you.”
She sniffed and nodded.
I let out a laugh. “You’re supposed to disagree.”
“I know the truth when I hear it.” Both her hands rose to cup my face. “I’m not saying it’s going be easy.”
“Well, you never were that.” When she started to turn from me, I pulled her back. My lips slid from her temple to her mouth. The kiss was sweet and soft. “But worth it. So worth it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely, if you’ll have me.”
“I will.”
Absolution came just like that, with quiet words and small touches so unlike the fireball of attraction that had slammed us together from the first moment we met. Soon, the fire built between us though. Our lips collided, our bodies, our breath, too.
I pulled back with a groan. “Wait. Wait.”
Car’s face was flushed from the rasp of my stubble. Taking a step back, she smoothed her sleek ponytail. “You’re right. Not here. Not in my office.”
Yeah, since Boomer was just waiting for an excuse to bust my chops.
“Take me home?” she asked.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”
“Because I really missed Viper.” Cat grinned at me.
I came up behind her, helping her on with her jacket. “You are incorrigible.”
“Get used to it.” She pulled on her sexy biker gloves.
“I don’t ever want to get used to you.” I touched her hips to pull her against me, savoring the feel of her in my arms.
“If all else fails, we can always work it out inside the boxing ring.” Cat wriggled closer with a sigh.
I nuzzled the nape of her neck. “Or we could just work it out in bed.”
Chapter Eighteen
Untamed By Love
A WEEK LATER, CAT revved beside me on her shining chrome hog, speeding so fast I thought those angel wing emblems might take flight. I howled right beside her on my Chief as we tore along the Trail of the Ancients. We’d headed out from Durango, Colorado, on U.S. 550 winding into upper northwest New Mexico at dawn. Chaco Canyon was our end destination.
I was awestruck by the rugged mountains, the deep jewel-toned lakes, the endless red horizon of the badlands.
Cat captivated me, even more so than the burnt orange scenery we raced through.
I’d planned on heading west in the spring, just my bike and me. That was before Cat streaked into my life and shook it up from top to bottom. We’d planned on a family Christmas with her brothers and my mimi, but those Christmas plans were postponed and my road trip moved forward, with a plus-one. Viper was happily housed at Gigi’s for the duration because Mews the calico cat ruled the roost at Josh’s—after Leelee.
We were, for the first time, carefree.
We rode side-by-side through the deep valleys and high mountains. Cat’s black hair, loose beneath her helmet, whipped back in long tendrils, shimmering with red, sun-drenched highlights. Her laugh drifted to me as we took a sudden dip and curve that opened to a breathtaking vista of Angel Peak. The gray-blue cliffs in the foreground only served to frame the farther mountain whose sandstone terrain turned rosy in the sunlight.
We rolled to a stop for a few minutes. Cat snapped some photos on her camera before smiling at me. Of one mind, we started up again. The tarmac baked under the late afternoon sun. Cat wore torn jeans, her bitchin’ boots, and a thin, long-sleeved black T-shirt. The collar was hacked open, baring the top slopes of her breasts. When the shirt billowed against her body, I could see the glint of metal from her nipple piercings flashing beneath the fabric.
After years of cover-up, Cat no longer concealed her inked arms. At another stop, she rolled up the sleeves, tossed her windblown hair, and laughed as she set off. She clenche
d the grips and throttled down, her kaleidoscope tattoos breathing with life. We flew toward the future on our bikes through the southwestern landscape that changed on a dime as we descended to a low-lying, verdant valley.
Watching Cat handle her Harley the same way she handled me—in complete control, with total power—made me hotter than the scorched road we soared across.
When we stopped at a deserted intersection, I jerked my head and thumbed down a dusty road to nowhere. I needed her now. Screw the rest of our ride for the day. She nodded and gave me a quick thumbs up. Her engine purred behind me, and it only amped me up more. Destination Nowhere turned out to be an off-the-road, off-the-beaten track bluff.
I rolled up to a shady tree. A little stream burbled at the bottom of a small knoll. Grassy outcroppings and wildflowers popped up around the watering hole.
Perfect.
Because I was thirsty. For Cat.
She hopped off her ride and left her helmet hooked over the handlebar. “This isn’t our stop. I checked the route on your iPad thingamajiggy that keeps bleeping at us.” She pulled the mini-tablet from my backpack and started pressing buttons.
I unrolled a blanket from my kit on the soft grass. Reaching behind me, I pulled off my shirt. Sweat drizzling between the deep grooves of my muscles, trailing down to the waist of my jeans.
Turning her attention from the iPad to my chest, Cat licked her lips. “I seriously checked this thing. And by the way, Marjorie says not to worry, she’s got your writing life under control.”
“I couldn’t wait.” I took the iPad from her hands and tossed it on top of my backpack. “This is where we’re stopping, unless you want to ride on?” I started backing her up to a giant cottonwood tree.
“I wanna ride on something.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, fleshy, juicy, ripe.
I thumbed open the button fly of my jeans. I shoved them to my thighs. My cock slapped up to my stomach, shiny, hard, ready. “I’ve got that something for you right here.”
I reached behind Cat as I walked her back, saving her skin from the rough tree bark. Her head bent when I lowered to suck the dip in her collarbone. Short work was made of her shirt and then her tits, piercings and all, filled my palms. My mouth followed. Sucking one taut nub, I ran a wet thumb around and around the other. Cat’s hips grinded against me. Her unending moan when my palm slid down her tummy and my fingers dipped inside her jeans made my brain fry. I popped the button and attacked the zipper.