by Bella Rose
“They’re taking you like a slave!” He gaped at her. “Is that what you want?”
“No.” Lena’s mind was spinning. “But if I can make Rocko like me or something, maybe I can get the debt forgiven.”
Her father looked thoughtful. “You mean you might be able to get us off totally? That’s a thought.”
She did not add that it was her thought. In fact, she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
She walked toward the shop’s back door and left the building. The silver trailer shone dusty and dented in the sun. She trudged toward the door with a sense of disappointment. Once inside, she stood in the tiny living area and tried to sort out her feelings.
What had she wanted? Had she really believed that her father would protest when she offered to find a way to wipe out his debts? If she hadn’t wanted to do it, she shouldn’t have said anything. But there was still that niggling part of her brain that desperately wanted her father to act like one. She wanted her daddy back. The man who had wiped the blood off her skinned knees and read her stories at bedtime.
“That Chester went away a long time ago,” Lena whispered to the trailer’s silent interior. “And I think by now I know he’s not coming back.”
With a sad sigh, she walked to the far end of the trailer where she had a tiny bed tucked into one wall. This had been home since her mother’s death. Everything had changed the summer she was eight years old. The trailer was home, and what little she owned sat right here in this small chest of drawers built into the side of an RV.
***
“What the hell was that?”
Rocko didn’t answer right away. He had been expecting Stone to disagree with his decision, but he had anticipated that the man who had been his right hand for more than five years would wait until the appropriate time to argue about it. Apparently Rocko had been mistaken. Stone had only waited for the engine noise to die down enough to be heard.
“Hey!” Stone snarled. “I’m talking to you.”
The other men looked between Stone and Rocko as if they were waiting to see a good old fashioned throw down. Their bikes were spread out between the five mobile homes that served as base of operations and bunkhouses for all the men. Road Rashers lived and worked together. It was their creed. Grievances between gang members and their leader were strictly private. This public outburst was something that Rocko could not let slide.
He flung his leg over his bike and stood up. Moving his head side to side, he heard the satisfying pop of his joints. Then he leveled a hard stare at Stone. “You got a problem with the decision I made?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” Stone still sat on his bike. The arrogant tilt of his blond head suggested he thought more of himself than was healthy. “That asshole Chester owes us money—Road Rasher money—that means we should all get a share. You made a deal for the woman instead of the cash. So what...” Stone glanced around at his fellow gang members. “Does that mean we all get a turn between her legs until we feel like the debt has been paid?”
Rocko’s rage was instant and uncontainable. One second there was a good ten feet between them. The next second, Rocko was looming over Stone with his hand on the man’s throat. He shoved Stone over backwards. Stone’s bike toppled over and pinned him beneath its heavy weight. Then to add an extra dose of hurt, Rocko put his knee on the Harley and gradually added his weight to Stone’s chest.
“You got something to say,” Rocko began in a deadly quiet voice. “You do it in private. You think you want to face me down? You think you want to be the boss around here? Then you challenge me like a man.”
“I—I—I—can’t breathe,” Stone gasped. His face was slowly turning red.
“I don’t fucking care if you can breathe,” Rocko snapped. “I know what your real problem is, you little prick. You wanted Lena Kramer for yourself. Fuck! Everybody knew that! But she turned you down flat. Three times. So get over it. The woman doesn’t want you. Hell. Maybe she doesn’t want either of us. She’s only coming here to help her daddy.” Rocko leaned over and flicked the tip of Stone’s nose. “But so help me, if you lay one finger on Lena Kramer, I will rip your dick off and feed it to my dogs. You got it?”
Rocko stood abruptly.
Stone sucked in a huge gasp of air. It sounded as though he’d just filled his lungs and more. “I challenge you!”
Rocko laughed. Spinning a slow circle, he waved his arms at the other gang members. “You heard the cunt! Get the bike off his chest so he can at least challenge me while he’s standing on his feet.”
A few men jumped to Stone’s aid. Most just stood around and smirked. Rocko had never worried about the loyalty of his men. He had been the only leader of the Road Rashers to focus on making money. They respected that. It lined their pockets and gave them a way to go drinking on the weekends. They were simple creatures with long memories and a healthy respect for survival. A man like Stone had nothing to offer them but uncertainty.
There were grunts and groans as the guys lifted the bike off of Stone’s body. Stone crawled to his feet, clawing his way up off the ground. He stood unsteadily, and Rocko almost felt bad for what was going to happen next.
“So?” Rocko raised one eyebrow. “Go ahead. Challenge me.”
“Let me catch my breath first.”
Rocko snorted and gazed around at the men. “Is this what you want? A leader who needs a water break during a fight for dominance?”
There was a round of laughter. Stone staggered a little circle, shoving at some of the guys and snarling at others. He was fighting hard for respect. Rocko got that. But Stone still hadn’t figured out how to get it.
“Come on!” Rocko shouted. “Come get some, Stone!”
Stone charged without warning, but Rocko was ready. He caught the other man’s shoulder in his gut. Wrapping his arms around Stone’s midsection, he used one foot to swipe Stone’s legs out from underneath him. Rocko gathered every ounce of his strength and lifted Stone into the air. He let gravity aid with the next move as Stone’s body slammed into the ground with a decided thud. Dust flew, and the crack and pop of joints filled the air.
Rocko straddled Stone’s prone body and smashed his fist into the other man’s face. Rocko felt his knuckles split as he punched again and again until Stone’s cheek was ripped open, his lips were raw, and his nose was askew. When Rocko felt the fight leave Stone’s body, he got up.
Rocko pointed to two of the other Road Rashers. “Get him out of my sight.”
A whoop of excitement and victorious cheers went up around Rocko as the other men punched the air with their fists and howled like animals. Rocko wished he could share their enthusiasm. Putting Stone in his place had become absolutely necessary after the man’s public outburst. But Rocko was too savvy not to understand that this was going to cost him later on. If nothing else, the friendship he had with Stone had just taken a major hit.
Chapter Three
Lena had no idea why she was standing out in front of Chester’s with her duffel bag over her shoulder at precisely the appointed time. Wasn’t it the definition of stupid to expect a criminal to be on time? Rocko Trapp was a thug. Thugs did not wear watches and worry about showing up for appointments. They did their own thing and expected the world to just deal with it.
She briefly entertained the notion that Rocko wouldn’t show up at all. Maybe it had been a bluff. He wouldn’t really want her around while he was doing—whatever it was that motorcycle gang leaders did—and he would just let the debt go and give them another chance to pay next month’s rent on time. Yes. That would be the best solution.
Except then nothing would change.
Everything would stay the same, and her father would still gamble away the rent money every month. At least this way there was a snowball’s chance in hell that the seriousness of their situation would finally sink in.
A rumble coming down the road drew her attention away from her negative thoughts. A strange lump appeared in her stomach. She couldn’t
decide if it was nerves or straight up fear. If she was nervous, why was she feeling that? What was this strange sensation of wanting so badly to please Rocko and prove she wasn’t worthless?
But it wasn’t a big black motorcycle that pulled up to the curb. It was a black and red truck. The grill was custom with an aggressive look, and the tires were huge. The thing purred like any piece of well kept machinery would and pulled up to the curb in front of Lena.
Rock got out of the driver’s side and strode around the vehicle.
“Is that all you’ve got?” His towering frown made her belly jump with nervous anticipation. Was he angry, or was this how he always looked?
“Yes. This is everything.” She knew it was pathetic, but she just wasn’t the kind of person who needed a bunch of stuff to live.
Rocko grabbed the passenger door. He opened it and pointed to the interior. “Get in. I’ll take you back to my place.”
There wasn’t anything left to say. Her father was still inside the shop sitting at his desk and staring forlornly at the destruction left inside that he would have to clean up all by himself. Part of her, the part that was used to taking care of everything for her father, felt guilty for leaving the mess for him to deal with.
Then she remembered where she was, who she was leaving with, what she had promised. To save her father.
It was time her father started cleaning up at least some of the messes he was responsible for causing, starting with the destruction inside his shop.
Rocko closed the door once she was inside, and Lena put her bag beneath her feet. Reaching for the seatbelt with shaking hands, she secured herself inside the vehicle then waited. She wasn’t sure what would happen next. Would he really take her to some weird place to act as a servant to him? Would she be chained to a bed and forced to have sex with him?
Whatever she was about to face, at least it would only be with Rocko and not his entire gang.
She was about to become Rocko’s woman in whatever way he saw fit.
A crazy thrill of excitement wound its way through her system. Sex. She had very little experience with that, and none of it had been particularly good. Still, a guy like Rocko who had plenty of experience and the body of a god could probably show a girl a good time. Right?
What am I thinking?
She cleared her throat uncomfortably as he jumped inside the vehicle. The space inside the truck seemed to instantly shrink. His presence took up so much room. His shoulders were incredibly broad beneath his long, dark, curly hair, which he’d shoved behind his ears. He looked at her, and she froze.
The way his gray eyes looked through her gave her chills. She wondered if he was always like this or if he had a softer side he sometimes showed to friends and family. Then she wondered why she cared.
“You’re staring,” he rumbled. “Why?”
“You’re good looking,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“I don’t mind that you said it.” A smile stretched over his lips. The expression changed everything about him from hard to sensual. It was disconcerting. “I just wonder why you seem so surprised. Did you think I was going to be a troll?”
“Sometimes the stuff people say about you around town makes you sound like a troll,” she mused. “Don’t you ever hear that stuff?”
He snorted. “I think this town needs something better to do than gossip.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “You mean like go hang out in your casino and spend their rent money?”
“Gambling is a choice that some people make.” He gave a careless shrug. “That doesn’t mean I condone addiction. And not everyone who gambles is an addict.”
“And when they are?” she asked with a bitter tone. “Do you just give them more credit?”
“No.” His expression turned hard. “I throw them out of my casino, and I don’t let them back inside.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do whatever I damn well please.”
She snorted. “Like take a woman for payment.”
“You’re the one who offered.” He shrugged, glancing over at her. “If you didn’t want to do it, you shouldn’t have convinced me to give you your way.”
Lena sat up straight, outraged, until she realized that he was right. “You’re disgusting.”
***
Her words burned him. Not because they rang of truth—which they did—but because he wanted her to like him and wasn’t even sure why.
Rocko exhaled long and slow. “You have the right not to like me. But just remember, this was your idea. Don’t hate me just because I took you up on your offer.”
“A decent man wouldn’t have.”
“You’re right. A ‘decent’ man would have probably just kicked you and your father out to the curb, then taken you to court for everything you own instead.”
He loved the way her expressions played across her face. Everything she felt was on display with absolutely no guile. She was an honest woman, and in his world that was a rare and valuable commodity.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked. “Do you guys have a hideout or something?”
Rocko chuckled. “This isn’t the old west. We’re not holed up in some canyon cave or something.”
“Mr. Jensen at the General Store in town says you guys have a trailer park you use as a base.”
“Mr. Jensen is well informed,” Rocko murmured. He would have to look into that. Why did old man Jensen care where the Road Rashers hung out? “We have a group of mobile homes out south of town.”
“In the desert.”
“Yes.” They headed straight down the main drag through town. Nobody paid much attention to his truck. With the windows tinted dark and no motorcycles riding behind, he was pretty much incognito. “We own land out there.”
“Own land?” She seemed to be tasting the words. “Like legally?”
He shot her a dry look of amusement. “Is there another way to own something?”
“I guess I would have thought a bunch of criminals would just squat somewhere.”
“We’re not criminals.” He snorted. “Not in the traditional sense anyway.”
“What does that mean?” The defiant gleam in her green eyes was a turn on. What was wrong with him? “Either you break the law or you don’t.”
“Not true.” He shook his head and tried to focus on his topic. “Sometimes a group decides that they have an anti-establishment agenda. That doesn’t mean they rob banks or commit murder. Maybe they just don’t think paying taxes is fair, so they take pains not to.”
She seemed to consider this. “Okay. So you don’t pay taxes.”
“We have a variety of ways to get around that. But no, not really.”
“Nobody wants to pay taxes!” she argued. “But you do it because you don’t want to have the IRS breathing down your back.”
“And if you could find a way around all of that?” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. It was obvious that she was really thinking this through. He liked the fact that she never seemed to be afraid to rethink her judgments. It showed strength of character he almost never found in the people around him.
“I guess if I could find a way to do it without getting fined even more money, then I would do it.” She seemed reluctant to admit it. “Which I suppose you’re going to say makes me a criminal.”
“No. Because I don’t think that’s criminal behavior. It’s just smart thinking.” He grinned at her. “You’re a smart woman, Lena. It’s no secret around town. You’ve been running that shop basically on your own for years. Honestly, I’m impressed as hell that you’ve kept it up as long as you have.”
“What do you know about it?”
“I’m your landlord,” he reminded her. “I know when the rent is paid and when it’s not. And I can generally tell that when it’s not paid, it isn’t because you didn’t make the money that month.”
“Gambling sucks,” she muttered.
“Yea
h. I get that.”
She whipped around to stare at him. “What do you know about it?”
“My dad was a gambling addict.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud. Rocko did not talk about his father. Ever. But it was like his lips were loose and he couldn’t get them to shut up. “He used to get drunk when he was on a losing streak. Then he’d come home and beat the shit out of my mom.”
The way she was staring at him... Rocko didn’t like it. He growled at her. “Keep your pity to yourself.”
“I’m not pitying you,” she said quickly. “I’m just thinking about all of the things that could have happened to a kid that grew up like that.”
“And your assessment?” he demanded sarcastically.
She was actually smirking. There was a smug little expression on her face, and her lips were pressed together. “You didn’t turn out half bad, all things considered.”
Her words shocked him enough to make him laugh. The sound echoed around the interior of the truck and made him feel somehow lighter than he had in ages. How strange. All of the dark thoughts about Stone circling his brain were gone. The only thing that seemed to matter right now was this tiny little woman with the cinnamon hair and bright green eyes.
Lena stared at him as though he had grown a second head. “You look like you’ve never laughed before.”
“I definitely don’t do it that often.”
“Really?” She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you guys ever have fun?”
“Do you?”
She pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side. A long lock of soft hair fell over her shoulder. It lay against the curve of her breast, and Rocko had a hard time looking away. She was so soft and warm and different from anyone else in his life. It was intriguing in ways he had never experienced.
“I guess I laughed a lot when my mom was still alive,” she told him. “After that, it was a lot less.”
“And lately?”
“Not at all.” Now she looked grim.
Rocko found he very much wanted to put a smile back on her face. “Then maybe it’s time you got out a little and found something else to smile about.”