Wicked Kind of Love

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Wicked Kind of Love Page 8

by Nicole Snow

“Good morning to you too, Saffron.” I smiled. “Looking for the usual today. A great big shot of Jack. Then you just stick around and keep it coming.”

  She stared at me, her lips twisted. The girl was a damned good bartender. She hadn't abused her place since Blaze claimed her as old lady neither. She did her job, kept her head down, and understood where club business ended and the fiery shit she had with Blaze began.

  “Okay, big guy, but I'm giving you a huge glass of water too. Drink up before you ask for any refills. I'm no nurse. But I know damned well when somebody needs it.” She started to walk to get my order, and recognition filled her eyes.

  Nurse. Fuck. She really said it.

  She mumbled an apology and continued to walk off.

  Saffron was the only one here who understood what went down with me and Emma. I'd staked my position damned clear to her over and over.

  Emma and I were finished. I knew Saffron didn't like it one bit, but what the hell did it matter? Her opinion about it mattered as much as everybody else's – it was fucking worthless.

  Shit, she was living proof what kinda toll this life took. Just a couple weeks ago, before Blaze proposed to her, I inked his name on the one good thigh she still had left. The assholes in the rogues had done a number on her before Blaze got her home, burning the shit out of her other side, destroying all the old ink she had going up her hip. They would've done a lot worse if Blaze had been ten minutes too late.

  The drinks landed in front of me. When I reached out, one hand was shaking, and I snapped it back 'til I was sure she wouldn't see.

  Fuck me. Damned good thing neither Saffron nor anybody else asked me for a tattoo lately. I doubted I'd be able to fucking do it in the fried state that was quickly becoming the norm for my sorry ass.

  I banged back those two shots like lightning. Each splash of venom burned deep, ripping through the dull darkness inside me, if only for a few seconds. I needed hot amber light like I needed a hole between the eyes, but there was one thing to say about it: the shit did its job and it never talked back.

  The warm, soupy buzz it layered around my brain never judged. It never piled on new responsibilities or split my skull open with painful fucking questions about right and wrong, life and death, love and hate.

  I didn't need Emma's cures anymore. I just needed Doctor Jack. Long as I followed his orders and took my daily dose, I was gonna be all right. No more worries about –

  Her.

  I had to set my second empty shot glass down and rub my eyes. Christ, no, I wasn't just seeing things.

  Emma was really standing right there in the doorway, out by the garages, talking to Moose. Some brother had left the door open. I watched through the hole, eyeing her up and down, loving the way she moved. Even when she just tore a little slip off a paper bag and pressed it up to Moose's chubby face, carefully running her fingernails across it, she looked absolutely fucking fine, blonde locks shining in the sun like golden threads spun to perfection.

  Next thing I knew, I was hard as nails, every fucking inch of me. Staring at her sweet ass was like looking at the sun. She turned my blood to kerosene and lit me on fire from the inside-fucking-out, hotter and hornier than hell itself.

  That babe looked so damned good she blinded me, and I still couldn't look away, eyes anchored to her curves. She was a bonafide fucking Medusa, and every inch of me turned a little more to stone the longer I stared and gawked and marveled at her fine, ripe shape.

  My cock jerked, pure need throttling its veins, pounding in my head with one brute command.

  Forget your mission, you drunken bastard. Forget it and go claim her. Work all this bullshit between you out with sweat and skin and screams.

  “No,” I muttered to myself, reaching for the water. Practically had to reach out and steady my fucking hand to keep it from shaking again.

  Saffron was on the other side of the bar, tidying things up. When she saw me take a drink, she smiled, and gave me a tiny nod.

  Whatever. I wasn't drinking for her. I was sending that ice cold fluid through my guts because it was the only goddamned thing I could take to keep from going up like a wicker chair on fire.

  Glass drained, I reached for my wallet. I laid the crisp bills on the counter with a stupidly generous tip and moved toward the door.

  It looked like she was finishing up with Moose. After a nod, a smile, and a loud thanks, my bearded brother marched away, heading for his bike while he stuffed the medicine bag in his pocket.

  Emma must've had a sixth sense. The girl turned her pretty face right toward me. Naturally, I locked up, turned to pure granite by her fiery stare.

  There was no love for my greedy, lying ass in her eyes. Not like before. It was gone, all gone, all because I pissed it away.

  And fuck, why would it be any other way?

  A shock ran through her. I saw her tremble slightly, and then cold hatred lined her face. She turned, stomping off to her car as fast as her little feet would carry her.

  Shit! I waited. It was all I could do to keep from embarrassing myself. Jack hammered at my head, mixed with anger and confusion, desire and nauseating want.

  You asked for this, asshole, a gruff voice screamed in my head. Let her go. You can't keep teasing her when you're too dazed and confused to shit or get off the pot.

  That vicious little weenie on my shoulder was right. My conscience grabbed me by the balls and put a muzzle on my dick. My boots began to move, and I sulked back to the bar for another round from Saffron, more fiery rockets to blast away any crazy thoughts about chasing her tail for the umpteenth time.

  We both knew how this story ended. There wasn't any reason – not one – for repeating it.

  Damn, if only I believed that. Because if it was true, then why was it so fucking hard to keep this brutal song off shuffle?

  By nightfall, I couldn't fucking stand it. I'd downed so much Jack I saw stars before the blackness took me on the hard floor.

  When I woke up, my head was pounding something fierce. I ran to the bathroom and gulped big handfuls of water. For the first time in days, I'd downed so much poison I didn't dream.

  It was a clear, dead, dreamless sleep. Would've been comforting any other time, but not today. Not when I'd been so damned close to Emma, when she was still the last thing I saw in my head before I crashed out and the first thing in it when I woke up in a fever.

  I've got to see Emma. One more time. Even if it's from a damned distance.

  Yeah, I knew what I was getting into. I was about to go full on stalker, pining after her like a lovesick little boy. Well, fuck it.

  Nobody would ever call me little. They'd never tell me to keep my ass away either.

  If Emma caught me dropping by her place, she'd get pissed and tell Blaze or Stinger. I could handle hell from my brothers. Taking one more second of feeling like a brain dead rock, forever ripped away from her...

  No. No goddamned way. I was doing this, and nothing was gonna stop me, not even my bitchy conscience I'd drunk into a coma.

  As soon as I was good to drive, I stepped outside and got on my bike. She purred to life in my hands, cool and comforting, the one reliable lover I still had.

  Summer was over. Missoula was turning to autumn. The cut was starting to be more than just a uniform. It kept me warm on the ride through town, dampening the chill gusts on the open road.

  I slowed way down when I blew into Emma's neighborhood. It was a nice neighborhood. Blaze ordered us to play nice with the locals, and I was gonna respect that instead of letting my fucking engine rattle their squeaky clean windows.

  Leaving my bike parked along the side, I walked the last block, stopping to scope out her house, watching at the end of the street.

  Never expected to hear her voice. But there it was, high and angry, as if she was having a heated debate over the phone. My curiosity went wild.

  I came closer, closer, and hit a dead stop when I saw she wasn't alone.

  Emma's curvy silhouette was on the porch,
just a few inches from another tall man. Anger exploded in my blood. My guts tightened.

  What the fuck? Had she decided to tear me out of her head with a new boyfriend?

  Obviously not a very good one if they were fighting. The man mumbled more calmly. I picked up my pace, trying to make out their words. The damned neighbors had a radio going loudly in their garage, and it drowned out any hope of figuring out what they were saying without being right fucking there.

  Just when I crossed the sidewalk in front of her house, the man walked right past me, heading for a sleek black car beneath the tree. The dude was only a couple inches shorter than me, but he had almost no muscle, lanky as a frigging skeleton.

  “I don't care what you want, asshole!” Emma yelled after him. “Don't come near me again. I'll come to you.”

  The tall man smiled and nodded. He was starting to stoop down to climb into his vehicle when he saw me.

  His eyes flashed recognition. He didn't stop, didn't smile – just nodded like a fucking idiot before he was in and the door clicked shut.

  I wondered if all the bullshit coursing through my system was making me hallucinate. He looked like he knew exactly who I was, and his eyes had the sick kinda glint I'd seen on a dozen different predators before, jackals ready to take a big steaming bite outta your skin when they know you're cornered.

  No, it wasn't my fucked up brain deceiving me. Emma's red, puffy face didn't lie. I was on fire now, and I rushed up her steps, closing the small gap between us.

  Shock and anger exploded through her, the same evil reaction I'd seen earlier. “Tank? Go away! You're the last person I want to see right now...”

  In a huff, she slapped her thighs, and quickly walked toward the door. I caught up just in time. Nearly tore the damned thing off its hinges when I swooped in to keep it open.

  “What the fuck's going on here, Em? Who is he?” I got her attention, locking a long, close stare for the first time in a small eternity. “Don't look so surprised. You think I'm gonna walk away when some asshole's left you on your own doorstep bawling your eyes out?”

  Confusion boiled in her gorgeous bright eyes. So did pain. Whatever the mystery man had done, I was the asshole who'd put ninety-percent of it there, a special kinda wildfire for burning my selfish ass.

  I reached for her shoulder. Soon as I touched her, the spell broke, but not the way I hoped.

  She jerked violently, retreating further into the house, shaking from head to toe. I seriously thought about following her in, too damned crazy to do anything else. Then she opened her mouth and spat daggers.

  “Don't touch me, you fucking asshole! Leave now or I call the cops.” She took a step forward, bowed up like a pissed off cat spying an intruder. “Better, I'll call Blaze! I don't need your help. I don't need the club's. This is all personal. And you, Mister, haven't got any right to step inside my life and blow it all to pieces for the hundredth time.”

  “Emma...”

  Speechless. Totally fucking speechless. Where the hell was the nurse with the sweet laugh I'd been in knots over? Who the hell was this in front of me?

  “No, you listen! I want you out. Don't ever set foot on my property again. I'm telling Blaze to drag your ass to the hospital if you ever get hurt. I can't do it. I can't be anywhere near you. You don't understand.”

  “What?” My fist tightened on the door's handle, ready to tear the fucker off. “What the fuck are you hiding?”

  “Everything that's none of your fucking business!” She jerked her head, more like she spat at my feet than a proper nod. “We're through, Tank. No, we never got started, and I'm glad.”

  She stepped up to the screen. Her whole face was beet red now, eyes blinking like they were trying to drop more tears, but didn't have the fluid to do it.

  “You want to know where you stand? Let me clear up any confusion.” Emma sucked in a rattly breath. “I am not your girlfriend. I'm not your co-worker. I'm not even your friend. And I'll sure as hell never be your old lady.”

  I couldn't listen to a second more. Two choices pounded on my skull, howling to break out: suck it up and walk away, or break down the fucking door and spank her ass raw for all the things she said.

  My cock knew exactly what he wanted. My asshole conscience did too, returning after a long vacation, drowned in whiskey and mean as all hell, pissed that I'd been so stupid to come here.

  I slammed the fucking door in her face and turned around. Em gave it back to me just as good as she got. I heard the big wooden door behind the screen pound into its frame like a fucking gunshot.

  On the way to my bike, demon energy seethed in my veins. I was wrecked because I lost her and pissed because I couldn't make sense of it. I knew why she hated my ass, and despised it with a vengeance. She'd made that crystal fucking clear.

  What I couldn't figure out was whether or not she was in some kinda danger. And now, like a jackass, I'd made the one irreversible fucked up mistake that would stop me from protecting her ever again.

  “Fuck!” I slammed both fists on my handlebars before I took off, not giving a shit if my coarse pain and the savage beat of my engine woke up everybody in the whole damned city.

  VI: Drowning (Emma)

  Hours Earlier

  As soon as Moose called for his prescription, my heart sped up. Every visit to the clubhouse since the day Tank broke my heart meant a chance of seeing him¸ like an unwelcome ghost I'd tried so hard to forget.

  It was a miracle I hadn't run into him during all the craziness that went down. Checking up on Saffron's burns meant daily visits to the club for a time. As always, everyone expected miracles and didn't want to listen to real medical advice.

  Saffron shouldn't have been back at the bar so soon after what she'd suffered. She definitely shouldn't have gotten the new ink. When she told me Tank was the one who'd done the tats, I quietly fumed, hoping the art had at least hit him where it counted.

  The womanizing, string pulling bastard had done a number on me. I couldn't believe I'd been stupid enough to nearly invite him into my life as a lover. Never thought for one minute he was just after a casual fuck.

  But casual, meaningless trysts were the norm in this life, weren't they? Maybe men like Blaze and Maverick were the exceptions, claiming their old ladies like proper wives. Or else they'd just grown up a lot faster than all their rougher, rowdier brothers.

  I couldn't ignore the whoring. I never saw Tank do it in front of me, but how could he possibly keep it in his pants at those crazy parties I only caught the very beginnings of?

  Shit, the two whores who came to me for STD checks every couple weeks lived in the clubhouse. Then there were other girls, local floozies and travelers who looked like they'd lick the dirty ground for one chance at wrapping their mouths around a biker's cock.

  I'd gone completely cold and clinical around that whore Marianne. She was the one Tank said he'd fucked. It hurt even worse because she looked like an older, sluttier version of me. Whenever she came to me, I ran her tests and slipped the results under her door, never stopping for any idle chit-chat.

  If I started to talk to her, then asking the question that still ripped me to pieces would be inevitable. Tank was an asshole for spilling the awful truth, but one thing I couldn't stand was hearing it from her overpainted lips, imaging all the filthy things this creature had done to him.

  I was lost in my thoughts as usual on the pharmacy run. With Moose's antacids in hand, I was returning to my car, head starting to throb at the painful whirlwind in my brain.

  I never saw the black sedan roll up to me until it was perfectly parallel, cruising at my exact walking speed. When the window started to go down, I turned my head. A strange balding man in his thirties smiled at me from the driver's side, weird recognition in his eyes.

  What's going on? Do I know you?

  The unwanted escort continued for a few more steps. I was about to pick up the pace and high tail it away in case this man was a creep when he shouted.

 
“Hey! Is that really you, cousin Emma? It's Mark. Mark Ward!”

  I stopped and stared. Running into my distant cousin here in town was the last thing I expected. I hadn't seen him for years, not since the old family reunions as a kid when his parents drove over from Washington.

  “Sorry for dropping in on you like this. I should've called first.” His face lit up with a long smile. “Listen, I'm hanging out in town for a little while and I thought we could get together and catch up. What do you say?”

  “What brings you to Missoula?” I stared dumbly, feeling surreal that this long lost minor piece of my life had suddenly come tumbling through like a blowing leaf.

  “Got a little business here.” He stopped, reached low, and struggled to pull something out of his hands. “Come here. I want to let you in on my little secret. Did you ever hear about me joining the force from Aunt Mavis?”

  I shook my head. My mother barely mentioned him after we lost touch, though I suppose a long estrangement with her sister over my grandmother's inheritance had something to do with that. I stepped up to the car as he moved his hands around something thick, grinning like a kid who'd snuck an extra cookie.

  Mark's smile broke wider as he flipped open a wallet-like leather square.

  Time stopped. Hot blood began to roar in my ears, and I had to grip the flimsy paper bag in my hands tight to restore some balance.

  Jesus. Is this some kind of sick punishment? I wondered.

  I was looking right at Mark's clean photo, and above it, a big golden eagle surrounded by the words Department of Justice: ATF. US Special Agent sat in the middle, razzing me like the speechless idiot I was.

  ATF. Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, I repeated from memory. Holy shit.

  “Shit, Emma. Nobody's taken a good long look like that since graduation. Pretty awesome, isn't it?”

  “How long...” I cleared my throat, dry and scratchy as hell. “How long have you been in this line of work?”

  “Just passed my one year anniversary. The pay's not bad and the benefits are fucking great. Took me years to work my way in from the Seattle PD. Nothing beats the travel, though. The ATF is fucking great with sending me all over the country. Interesting places, interesting people. Now, I'm right back here with you.”

 

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