HONEY FOR NOTHIN'

by Cathryn Cade

  She was not leaving until she had Keys’ books as up-to-date as she could get them. Maybe when he used the program he wouldn’t be so angry with her.

  Finally, though, she started to feel dizzy, so she headed downstairs. She drank a cup of lukewarm coffee, choked down a banana, and went into the bathroom.

  Her phone rang as she was drying her hands and avoiding her gaze in the mirror, because she looked like shit, red-eyed, her hair a wild mass around her pale face, and no makeup.

  It was Deni. “Hi, baby girl. Listen, we got here faster than we thought. Can you walk down and meet us on the road? Don’t really want that Keys to see us, you know? Him and Lindi’s man Jack are tight, and Jack wasn’t very nice about me taking you out of there.”

  “I’ll walk down and meet you,” Kit said dully. “I just need time to grab my things. Um, what kind of car does Velvet drive?”

  “It’s a red Camaro with black flames on the hood. It’s real pretty.”

  Kit would’ve rolled her eyes had her head not ached so badly. “Great. I’m headed down the mountain now.”

  She sniffled, then glared at herself in the mirror. God, she was such a big cry-baby. This was just another goodbye, and not like she hadn’t said plenty of those in her life.

  She tossed her hair back, and turned to open the bathroom door. Then she stopped short, her heart sinking.

  Both Remi and Keys stood outside the bathroom, waiting for her.

  Keys was once again sunburned, tanned and shirtless, a baseball cap on backwards over his hair, bundled in the man bun with silver strands pasted to his throat. He stood like an angry sentinel, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his chin lowered and a look of disgust on his face, aimed straight at her.

  Remi stood beside him. He still wore his BeeHive apron over his clothing. He didn’t look angry, he looked stoic, which was in a way worse. “We were just coming in to have lunch with you,” he told her.

  Kit clutched her phone and bit her lip, which was quivering again. “Right. I’m ... not hungry.”

  “Y’know, a man wouldn’t think to look at you, Red, that you’re fuckin’ stupid,” Keys said in a flat, cold voice. “But you just keep proving’ over and over again that appearances lie. Gettin’ all set to step out there and put yourself in the cross-hairs again?”

  He stepped back, and swept one arm out toward the door of the shop, which stood open to the sunlight. “Go on ahead. Don’t let us stop you. You wanna go, go on.”

  Remi moved sharply as if to protest, but Keys cut him off with a glare.

  “But you leave,” Keys went on, “You’re leavin’ a trail of shit right through the middle of everyone--from Lindi and her café, to Jack and me, and all the brothers in the club. You don’t wanna be with me, that’s fine. Won’t take me long to forget you, not at all. But you walk out on Remi, you’re just pissin’ me off. And that I will not forget, or forgive.’

  ‘So you leave now, don’t try to come back here, ‘cause the door won’t be open to you—it’ll be shut and locked.”

  And with that, he turned on his heel and walked out. The shop door slammed behind him with a hollow thud that echoed through her aching head.

  She had to get out of here fast, before she broke down completely.

  Kit headed for the stairs, but blinded by tears, she ran into the kitchen table and struck her hip. It hurt—although not as badly as Keys’ words, or the cold, final way in which he’d said them. She planted a hand on the table and stood there, trembling, fighting for enough composure to move.

  She was bewildered when a pair of warm, strong arms folded around her, and pulled her into an embrace—one that smelled of man, sun and café foods. Remi. He pulled her close, and stroked a hand down her back, even as her breath hitched on a new round of tears. He felt so sweet, so safe, a cruel illusion when she was the one trying to keep him safe.

  “What’s going on, Kit?” he asked, his voice imploring. “C’mon, you gotta talk to me.”

  “I c-can’t stay here,” she tried to explain, her wet face against his tee, her hands clutching his apron.

  “But Kit, don’t you wanna stay?” Remi asked her, lifting her face with a hand under her chin. Oh, God, his dark eyes were wounded as if she’d kicked him in the gut.

  “Of course I do,” she wailed. “You’re the best guy I’ve ever met, and Keys is ... well, Keys. But—”

  He shook his head adamantly. “No buts, woman. You either want to be with us, or you don’t.”

  That hurt, like he didn’t believe her. “I do.”

  “You sure? ‘Cause that’s not what I’m seeing when you try to run every chance you get.”

  “But that’s why I have to go, don’t you see?” She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and held on. “Because what do my feelings matter if they get you hurt?”

  “A lot, that’s what. If you want to be here, then we’ll figure this out,” he said, leaning in, his dark eyes going stern. “You can’t just keep running, woman. You gotta stand—and we’ll stand with you--in front of you if need be. Bouncer is not winning this one.”

  Kit shook her head vehemently. “No, Remi. No—you don’t get it. He’s not giving up, he’s ex-ex—he’s getting worse.”

  His brows shot together. “He’s escalating? How do you mean? What’s happened, Kit?”

  Easier to show him, than try to explain. She handed him her phone. Remi viewed the text string, his face growing steadily grimmer.

  To Kit’s dismay, he headed for the shop door, her phone in his hand.

  “No,” Kit called, hurrying after him. “Remi, no.”

  He ignored her, opened the door, stuck his head out and yelled. “Keys! Need you in here—now!”

  Kit grabbed his arm, reaching for her phone. “You can’t tell him. Bouncer is drunk or high--I don’t know which, but if he comes over here like that, I don’t know what he’ll do. And I can’t let you and Keys get in the middle of a fight with him and whoever he drags along. Someone could get hurt—or dead.”

  Remi held the phone out of her reach. “Kit,” he said, furious now, “You gotta stop trying to handle this yourself. Keys is a patched member of the Flyers—you can’t keep secrets about club business. He’ll know how to handle this.”

  “But what if he can’t?” she demanded, her voice rising. “How am I supposed to live with myself if something happens to him, huh? He might be a biker warrior sensei, but last time I looked, that doesn’t stop bullets!”

  Remi looked like he didn’t know what the hell she meant, much less what to do with that. It didn’t matter, because Kit was beyond stopping now. She was letting it all out, at the top of her voice, and waving her arms.

  “And you’re here too, and you know very well you’ll take his back if anything bad happens. So you could get hurt too. I couldn’t stand that! Y-you and Keys, you deserve to—to be happy together. All I’m gonna do is bring you both trouble like a b-big, fat magnet. But if I leave here, and let Bouncer know I’m not here, he won’t come here, he’ll chase me. But he won’t find me, because I’ll hide. Then you’ll be safe, and I’ll ... I’ll be ...”

  “You’ll be what?” Remi asked, his gaze soft.

  She’d be alone, and scared out of her mind, that’s what. Kit swallowed hard. “I’ll be o-okay. So give me my phone. I need to go p-pack.”

  But another hand reached past her, and Remi placed her phone in it—a tanned, powerful hand with a black, leather bracelet on the wrist. Keys. Oh, no. This was not supposed to happen.

  Kit whirled, in a panic, her heart pounding. “Give me that,” she called, reaching for the phone, her hand open, palm up. “Give it to me. Don’t read that.”

  Keys gave her a dangerous look that stopped her in her tracks. He had not forgiven her, that was clear.

  “You don’t need to read it,” she repeated, desperation sharpening her voice. “It’s just—garbage. Give it to me, and I’ll take it and go.”

  “Hush, baby.” Remi moved in behind her. He held her as Keys�
� silently thumbed through the screens on her phone, his expression darkening steadily.

  It seemed to Kit to take forever until he finished. Then his gaze flicked back to her. He examined her for another long moment, and the wait just brought Kit’s emotions boiling up to the surface, anger on top.

  “You don’t need to look at me like that,” she said. “I said I’d go—what else do you want me to do?”

  He didn’t bother to answer that. “This is why you were gonna run.” He lifted her phone.

  He wasn’t the only one who could keep quiet. She raised her brows back at him.

  “You think you can ever learn to share shit?” he asked her, his mild tone belying the flame burning behind his gaze. “Or are you always gonna stuff it inside that pretty head and let it fester till it’s so bad you can’t hold on anymore? Huh?”

  Kit snorted. “Right, like trying to save you guys from his craziness is just so wrong.”

  At this, a strange expression washed over his face. “You think you’re gonna save us from Bouncer,” he repeated, as if unsure of the translation of words in a foreign language. “Is that what I’m hearin’?”

  “That’s pretty much what I got from her,” Remi said. “She was gonna ride off like the Lone Ranger, into the sunset. Only one problem with that, Kit.”

  “What?” she asked, turning to frown suspiciously at him. Was he making fun of her at a time like this?

  He winked at her solemnly. “The Lone Ranger would never leave his faithful Indian sidekick behind. Knows he’s needed to survive the wilderness.”

  Kit huffed in disgust. “You are so full of it, Remington. You’re about as much like Tonto as I am Little Orphan Annie.”

  “Right,” he agreed, pouncing so swiftly she realized he’d baited his trap and let her walk into it. “Stereotypes, babe. Old assumptions that we gotta learn aren’t right. And guess what? You can have ‘em about yourself too. You seem to think you’re not worth Keys or my time and trouble. You need to learn to depend on someone besides yourself.”

  “That’s all I’ve ever done, is depend on other people,” she protested. “Living on whatever guy my mom was with, and the clubs—taking handouts from the old ladies who were nice, and shit from the ones who weren’t. Now here I am with you ... and I just can’t keep doing this. I’m not my mom. I’m not. And I don’t wanna be her.”

  “Fuck me,” Keys said. “That’s what this is all about. You weren’t bein’ stupid, you were bein’ fuckin’ noble and stupid.”

  “I’m not stupid,” she hissed. “And if Tonto here would let go of me, I’d get my ‘fucking noble’ self out of your hair.”

  Keys closed his eyes, turned his head to the side, then incredibly, he started laughing. And Remi joined him. Oh, shit, she’d used air quotes again. Well, too freaking bad.

  For one crazy instant she contemplated using some more of her self-defense moves. Whip her head back, crunching someone’s annoying face, then while he was busy letting her go, stomp on the other incredibly irritating someone’s foot, and then while he was recoiling, get loose and run.

  Except that Keys was already moving in, hemming her between him and Remi—he seemed to really like doing that. Most of the time she loved it, but now it just made the pain inside her worse, because she knew she couldn’t keep this.

  “You gotta stop doin’ that if you don’t wanna make me laugh, Red,” he told her. “‘Cause that’s gonna do it for me every damn time. Even when I’m pissed as hell at you.”

  Since he reached up to cup her face in his warm, calloused hands with a rueful smile replacing his scowl, Kit did not tell him where he could shove this. Instead she listened as he went on.

  “Now you gotta hear me, and this time take my words to heart, Red. Bouncer is not gonna get to you—not if you play it smart and let us protect you. And nobody’s gonna think less of you for doin’ that.’

  ‘Bouncer is a Flyer, so am I, so’s Jack. We know him, how he rolls, and how to make him back the fuck off. And Remington’s here too, so you got Tonto and a biker, if not the Lone Ranger. And nobody needs that asshole anyway, when we’ve got brothers.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “Just tell me how you’re gonna do that without you getting hurt?”

  “Got a couple ideas. Without tellin’ you club business, which I’m not gonna do, I can call for a sit-down with Bounce, Joystick and the other club officers. Or, I bring you to the first barbecue of summer, which is due to happen soon, and I put my marker on you. Either way, I claim you as mine. That’s the only sure way to make a brother back down, is if another one gets in there first.”

  Kit gaped at him. She knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t seem to gather enough brain cells to close it. “Uh ...” She tried again. “But ... you don’t even know me. Not really.”

  He tipped his head, and the look in his eyes made her catch her breath.

  “Seriously? I know a lot more than you might think, Red. You got spunk, but you’re also soft and sweet. You like making me and Remington happy, you want us together but you’re afraid your trouble might split us up.’

  ‘You’re sharp, you’re funny as hell, and you’re not afraid to dig in and work. You don’t give two shits about collecting a lot of clothes, jewelry and shoes the way some women do, but you like to look pretty.”

  His face softened even more. “How am I doin’ so far? Yeah, I’m dead on target, and I see by that blush that you know it. Here’s more—you care about your mom, but you’re done letting her run your life. Your girls care about you like sisters, which says you give back to them.’

  ‘So, actions speaking louder than words and all that, Red–Remi and I both know a lot about you. And we like what we know. We wanna keep it close for a while.”

  Kit couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She stared at him, unable to find words for all the goodness spilling over inside her.

  Remi gave her a squeeze, and leaned his chin on her shoulder, peering into her face. “But you’re not exactly the best waitress I ever worked with,” he said regretfully. “So, if it’s okay with you, I think Lindi should hire someone else at the café.”

  Kit gave a half-laugh, half-sob. “That’s okay with me,” she agreed, turning her face against his. “It was fun working with you, but I hate other people’s sloppy dishes ... and my hair smelled like grease all the time.”

  She looked to Keys, no longer caring her expression was no doubt revealing just how deeply his words had affected her. “So you’re saying, I’m the perfect biker chick, right? Fun and low-maintenance.”

  He grinned at her. “Pretty much. And fuckin’ hot, so there’s that too.”

  He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “So if I claim you in the eyes of the Flyers, you willing to back that play?”

  Kit took a shaky breath, looked to Remi, and back to Keys. “ Okay, sure. Wait—depending on what you mean by putting your marker on me.”

  Remi laughed, and Keys gave her a wicked look. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out. You in or not?”

  “I … I’m in.” She was so in, he was going to have trouble getting loose later when he told her they didn’t need to pretend anymore. Except not really, because she was not her mom, hanging onto guys when they wanted to let go.

  Anyway, Keys wouldn’t do anything too outrageous … she didn’t think. And he sure didn’t have time to custom-order a cut for her, so she wouldn’t have to give that back later.

  “Good. Now, I’m thinking I may call for the sit-down anyway, because sending those two losers up here to my place to grab you? Not fuckin’ cool, no matter who did it. And I will not be letting that slide without payback.”

  “And I’m with you on that,” Remi put in, his voice hard.

  Keys lifted his chin to the other man, his gaze warming in a special way. “I know, Rem. Absolutely.”

  Kit loved that look ... she just wished he’d send it her way too. But he’d just given her a whole bunch of compliments, and that wou
ld have to be enough for now. “Okay, so you guys can let me go now. I need to, um ... go put some makeup on.”

  Both men let her go, but watched her closely as she stepped away, tugging at her dress. She avoided their gazes, letting her hair fall forward. She knew she looked like shit, they didn’t have to stare.

  Then Remi shocked her nearly out of her shoes. “You’re way prettier without it, axa’ashe.”

  “True.” Keys nodded. “Those big, beautiful green eyes don’t need all that shit on ‘em.”

  Kit opened her mouth, then closed it. They looked sincere.

  Keys chuckled. “We finally found the way to make her speechless, Rem. Just give her a compliment or two, knocks the voice right out of her.”

  Remi nodded, his eyes dancing. “Have to start doing a lot more of that, then. I like her quiet.”

  “Oh, you are both so full of it,” she said, tossing her hair back. It was, predictably, drying in a wild cloud.

  “Stick around, Red, you’ll be full of us,” Keys promised.

  Remi groaned. “Oh, man, don’t talk about that now. You’re giving me wood, and I gotta get back to the café.”

  Keys laughed. “Just keep your apron on, lover. No one will know.”

  “I’ll know. Kit,” Remi called, crooking his finger at her. “Need a kiss goodbye.”

  She rolled her eyes, but went to him anyway. He pulled her close, and gave her a warm, soft kiss, one that melted the last of Kit’s resistance.

  But of course, being a man, he ruined it the minute he lifted his head.

  He patted her ass, let her go with a grin. “Now, why don’t you tell Keys what you told me. About how you can’t live without him.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kit gasped in sheer horror. “I never said that!”

  Remi was already on his way out the door. “That’s what I heard,” he called back.

  The door thudded behind him, and the hair on the back of Kit’s neck stood up. From the corner of her eye, she saw Keys prowling toward her.