by Sybil Bartel
“Great.” Not fucking great. “And?”
“He’s dead.”
“I ain’t stupid. I know what had means.”
“He left somethin’ behind.”
“Good for him.” Whatever it was, Talon could have at it. “I don’t give a single fuck ’bout it. Stone Hawkins and anythin’ connected to him is dead to me. I don’t have any family. I’m an island. Everythin’ in my past is just that, past. And if that makes me a bad person, then so be it. I ain’t apologizin’ for bein’ a survivalist. And trust me, nothin’ good ever came from bein’ associated with Stone Hawkins.”
Searching my eyes, studying me like he was wondering if he could trust me, Talon Talerco kept his gaze locked on me for a beat, then he focused back on the road. “I’m not lettin’ you stay in a motel.”
Terrific. “I’m no charity case. I’m not stayin’ with you.”
“Never said you were, and I got a place you can stay at by yourself.” He glanced at me. “You good with that?”
“As long as I’m not exchangin’ favors for that roof over my head.”
Talon had the sense to chuckle. “Darlin’, no offense, but you got nothin’ I want. You’re a pretty girl, I’ll give you that, and today was one for the record books, but I’m not lookin’, and even if I was, I’ve never been the kind of man you’re describin’. If I offer help, there’re no strings attached. Just payin’ it forward.”
I relaxed. Marginally. “Great. Don’t suppose you have a payin’ job for me as well.”
He smiled. Bright and full of mischief, it lit up his face. “I just might.”
If I wasn’t so damn hung up on another man with blond hair, I might’ve seen the appeal of the coconut-smelling, Southern-accented, badass troublemaker that was Talon Talerco. “The only experience I got is cashier.” Whore didn’t count. That life was dead, and I wasn’t ever going back.
“That’ll work.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” And I did. But I was also overwhelmed, tired, and I admit, I really wanted a fucking drink, not that I was gonna dare have one.
“Stick with me, kid.” Talon grinned. “You’ll go places.”
“The only place I want to go is where I don’t have to rely on no one and no favors for nothin’.”
His expression instantly sobered. “Understood.” He pulled the truck into a strip mall across the street from the beach and parked behind a store. “Come on.”
I read the name over the back entrance. “A surf shop?”
“Yep.” Cutting the engine, he got out of the truck, but he looked back and grinned at me. “We’re goin’ shoppin’.”
I came to with a start.
Disoriented, nauseous, fight or flight kicked in, and I rolled.
“Why the hell did you knock him out?” Kendall bitched.
Shade smirked. “Would you rather I shot him?”
Luna rattled something off in Spanish.
On my hands and knees, my equilibrium shot, I took two more breaths and pushed to my feet, then stumbled into the wall. Fucking vagus strike.
Crossing his arms, Shade gloated. “Never been knocked out before?”
“Shut up,” Kendall snapped at him as she reached for me. “You need to sit your ass down.”
Dizzy as fuck, I pushed her away.
His hand on his piece, Luna got in my face. “Touch her again and I won’t be as nice as Shade.”
Ignoring all of them, I aimed for my bedroom.
Kendall followed. “If you’d listened to me and—”
I slammed the door in her face and stumbled to the bathroom. Breathing deep, I held on to the counter a few seconds, then stuck my head under the faucet. Running a towel over my hair, I grabbed my 9mm and walked back out.
Shade blocked the front door, and Luna stood in front of him.
On Luna’s right, Kendall put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you’re going after her.”
Ignoring Kendall, I leveled Luna with a look. “Move.”
“You going after her?” Luna asked.
“What the fuck do you think?”
“I think a lot of things.” Luna crossed his arms.
“Fuck you.” I was over this bullshit. “Move.”
“She called Talerco to come get her for a reason,” Luna reminded me.
“That asshole had no goddamn right to interfere.” I was going to pound his fucking face in next time I saw him.
“Like it or not,” Kendall interrupted, “we’re all involved now.”
My glare cut to her. “I didn’t ask you to drive your ass up here.”
“Watch your tone with her,” Luna warned.
Shade, the fuck, casually checked his magazine.
“What the hell are you going to do?” I glared at Luna. “Stand here for the next week and fucking babysit me?” That was never going to happen.
“No,” Luna clipped, but then he didn’t say shit else.
I didn’t have time to deal with a fucking standoff, let alone Luna’s jarhead bitch, Shade. The clock was ticking, and Talerco’d had my woman long enough. “You know what the fault in your plan is?”
“Not my plan, and there’s nothing faulty about it. Your woman wanted to leave. We gave her that opportunity. With a head start,” he added, like I was too stupid to figure out what was going on.
I ignored his bullshit and answered my own question. “I know where Talerco lives. Both residences.” And my bet was on his Daytona house, because he wasn’t stupid enough to bring trouble back to his own woman at his new place down south.
Arms still crossed, expression impenetrable, Luna didn’t comment.
I waited. I was giving the fucker sixty seconds. Then I’d plough through all three of them if they didn’t get the fuck out of my way.
Kendall sighed dramatically. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She looked at her man, then at me. “You know you can’t be an asshole and get her back, right?”
“Not your business.” My jaw ticked.
She pointed at my face. “You can’t do that shit either. Calm the fuck down and be reasonable for once in your life. Then go apologize to her for whatever the hell you did.” She looked at Luna. “Does that cover it? Anything else you want to add?” She didn’t wait for a response. “No? Great. My work here is done. Let’s go.” She looked at Shade. “You too. Move your ass.”
Shade lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t budge.
“All right.” Luna uncrossed his arms. “Here’s how this is gonna go down. You’re not going to fuck with her for twenty-four hours, or I’m going to fuck with you.”
“Has the job gone to your head?” I tipped my chin at his company logo on his shirt, then I nodded at Kendall. “Or are you just a self-righteous asshole because you’re getting your dick sucked?” Fuck this bullshit.
Luna glared at me. “You’re lucky my woman likes you.”
Shade smirked.
Kendall snorted. “I didn’t say I liked him.”
“Go home, Luna.” I shoved past him and got in Shade’s face. “You get one warning. Step the fuck aside.”
Shade smiled. “Or?”
“You’ll find out what happens when I’m not distracted.”
His smile morphed into a grin. “I’d like to see that, Ranger.”
I palmed my knife.
“Cristo,” Luna muttered. “Stand down, Shade.”
Holding my gaze, taking his fucking time, the prick stepped aside.
I yanked my front door open. “Lock up after yourselves, and don’t come back.”
Not waiting for a response, I went for my bike.
I followed Talon into the surf shop.
“Tal-lonnn!” A carbon copy blond surfer-looking guy with a giant smile came out from behind the counter and fist bumped Talon. “What’s up, brah? You bring my ride back in one piece?”
Talon feigned offense. “Would I wreck your truck?”
The surfer looked at me. “Have you seen him drive?”
; “Experienced it firsthand.” And barely lived to tell about it.
The surfer nodded. “Then you feel me.”
“Completely.”
Talon scoffed. “Both y’all can fuck off. There’s nothin’ wrong with my drivin’ skills.”
The surfer looked at me conspiratorially and mock whispered, “He surfs like he drives.”
“Shockin’,” I deadpanned.
The surfer laughed and glanced at Talon. “I like her.” He looked back at me and smiled flirtatiously. “I’m Braige.”
“Shaila.”
Braige’s smile amped up. “Right on. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
“Unless you want Candle up your ass, keep it locked down,” Talon warned.
Braige’s eyes went wide. “No shit? You’re Candle’s woman?”
I said “No” at the same time Talon said “Yes.”
I glared at Talon as I addressed Braige. “He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”
Talon put his arm round me as he looked pointedly at Braige. “She’s in denial. Candle’s not.”
“Ahh.” Braige nodded like he understood. “Gotcha.”
Talon squeezed my shoulder. “Go pick some outfits out, darlin’. Whatever you want.”
I glanced at the racks of clothes. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been shopping in my life. “You’re not buyin’ me clothes.”
Braige laughed. “He’s not buying anything.”
Talon frowned. “Go.” He tipped his chin toward the racks.
I didn’t budge. “Braige ain’t buyin’ me clothes neither.”
Braige held his hands up as he smiled carelessly. “Not guilty. Talerco owns the shop, mamacita. Pick out whatever you want.”
I frowned at Talon. “You own this place?”
His hands went to his hips. “Darlin’, I’ve never met a woman I had to talk into shoppin’. You gonna be the first?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because I can be persuasive.”
Uncomfortable as shit, but not stupid enough to turn down the chance to have a change of clothes, I turned toward the racks. Sad truth, I didn’t even know my size.
“Dressin’ room’s in back,” Talon called out. “Take your time.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, completely overwhelmed.
Seven years as a whore, most of them naked, I didn’t know what the hell to pick out. If I was being honest, clothes didn’t even feel good anymore. They felt constricting and cumbersome. And the pants I was wearing rubbed against my stab wound and made it itch.
Forcing myself to look through the racks, I admittedly didn’t have much pride left, but I wasn’t so far gone that I didn’t want to at least blend in with whatever the hell I chose. And despite everything, I had to admit I was looking through the clothes wondering what Tarquin would approve of. More, I was wondering what he’d like to see me in—not that I thought he even paid much attention to or noticed that sort of thing.
He’d seemed to like my favorite jean skirt all those years ago, but there wasn’t nothing like that in Talon’s surf shop. No cowboy boots, no jeans, no fancy western shirts with snaps up the front. There wasn’t even anything in leather. There were just racks and racks of swimsuits so small they looked more like scraps of fabric than fashion.
There were also tons of tank tops, shorts, stretchy clothes and little dresses that looked like you were advertising your wares instead of covering your behind. Not that I was one to talk, but everything pretty much looked like something you’d wear if you were for sale. Or going to the beach, I guess, but I ain’t never spent a day at the beach in my life, my time at Tarquin’s beach house notwithstanding.
Getting tired of looking, I picked what looked comfortable in colors that didn’t clash with my pale skin and strawberry blonde hair, then I went to the dressing room—if you could call it that. It was more like a tiny closet with a curtain hanging where a door should’ve been, and not even the curtain closed you in all the way.
Feeling exposed, even though the little cube was more privacy than I’d had in seven years, I stripped down behind the curtain and put on the first outfit. A little pink top with spaghetti straps and tiny flowers all over it and a pair of fancy white shorts made to look like cutoffs. No bra, no underwear, I forced myself to look in the mirror.
Jesus.
Pale skin, veins showing, collarbones sticking out, cheeks sunken, no boobs, too-long, dull hair—no wonder Tarquin looked mad all the time. I looked like such shit, I wanted to cry.
Then I wanted to aim a gun at the murderer and the junkie who brought me into this world and pull the trigger, but that’d make me no better than them. Fighting tears, staring at the sickly-looking woman with ill-fitting clothes, I made a promise.
Never, ever again.
Not that I was ever going back to drugging and drinking, but I was making myself the promise, here and now, that I wasn’t no victim neither.
I’d take the help offered me, I’d take Talon’s clothes and whatever place he was dumping me at, but then I was getting a job, and I wasn’t gonna rely on no one ever again. I was never gonna be beholden, and I sure as hell wasn’t ever gonna be a junkie whore again.
I wasn’t my mother.
And I damn sure wasn’t my father.
I was Shaila Victoria Hawkins, and I was on my own.
“Darlin’?” Talon called. “You good?”
Startled, I jumped. “Comin’!” Grabbing all the clothes, not trying anything else on, I pulled the curtain back.
Talon smiled. “Find anythin’?”
“Yeah. These’ll work. I just need some boots.” I figured if he owned a whole store, he could afford to front me for some boots.
He glanced at my shorts and tank top. “Boots?”
“Biker boots.” I hadn’t had a pair in years. New attitude, new goals, new life—boots seemed fitting.
Talon winked. “I like your style.”
“I don’t have any style.” I just wanted some dang boots.
“Exactly.” Taking the clothes from me, he headed toward the front. “Come on, darlin’, we’ll get you some shitkickers.” He dumped the clothes on the front counter and nodded at Braige. “Bag these for me.”
“On it.” Braige set about folding each piece and carefully putting them in a bag.
More uncomfortable by the second, I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my new shorts. “I’m payin’ you back for all of this.”
Braige chuckled.
Talon nodded noncommittally. “Mm-hmm.” Taking a pair of flip-flops off a rack, he set them down in front of me. “Try these on for now.”
I slid my feet into them. “They fit.”
“All set.” Braige held the bag out to Talon.
“Thanks.” Talon tipped his chin toward the back of the store. “You still backed up on makin’ boards?”
“Always,” Braige admitted. “But I got it covered.”
Talon nodded in my direction. “How ’bout havin’ Shaila watch the front a few days a week? You can pick her up at my place on your way in.”
I straightened. “Work here?” I glanced at Braige then looked back at Talon. “With him?”
Braige smiled a winning smile. “I don’t bite.”
“Then it’s settled,” Talon confirmed. “Pick her up tomorrow on your way in.”
“Will I have my ride back by then?” Braige asked.
“Yeah, thanks for the loaner on short notice. I flew up here this mornin’, so I didn’t have my wheels, but my woman’s comin’ to get me later. I’ll have your truck back to you before closing.”
“No worries, but keep it intact, brah.” Braige fist bumped Talon then smiled at me. “Keep an eye on his driving, mamacita, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“My drivin’s fine,” Talon protested as he put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, darlin’. We got some boots to procure.”
I was a fucking pussy.
Sitting on my bike across the street from Talerco’s surf shop, I wat
ched him walk my woman to a truck, help her in and hand her a bag of what looked liked clothes.
I didn’t go after her or lay Talerco out.
I didn’t do a damn thing.
I sat on my bike and watched like a fucking voyeur, because for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. She’d had my safety held over her head for seven years.
Seven motherfucking years.
She wasn’t fucking Hangman bikers for sport. She was fucking them to keep me alive, or so she believed. I didn’t know what the fuck Hawkins would’ve done if she’d stopped being the Hangmans’ pound piece. Hawkins had pissed off every other MC in a three state radius by encroaching on their territories, but he’d somehow managed to keep his club from going to war with all of them while he was alive. I’d stupidly never questioned how.
Now I knew.
Making his own daughter a club whore, holding my life over her head for seven goddamn years—I didn’t know how to fucking reconcile that. So I sat on my Road King like a goddamn coward and waited till they pulled out before following them.
Ten minutes later, Talerco was turning in to the Harley dealership and I was losing my shit. The asshole had means. I knew he was loaded as fuck, but that didn’t give him any goddamn right to set my woman up with a ride.
Barely refraining from walking inside and ending Talerco, I did the next shit cowardly thing.
I dialed Kendall.
Sounding bored as fuck, she answered on the first ring. “That didn’t take long.”
“Why the fuck is Talerco taking Shaila to the goddamn Harley dealer?”
Kendall snorted. “Because he can?”
“What the fuck is he doing?”
“Why don’t you walk in and find out, seeing as you’re obviously already there. Or not. Be a loser stalker for all I care.”
“Don’t give me fucking attitude right now, D,” I warned.
“Or what? You’ll follow me too? Christ, Candle, when did you turn into such a pussy?”
Asking myself the same damn thing, I didn’t say shit.
Taking my silence as an invitation, Kendall kept going. “At this point, I hope Talon buys her a damn Harley, a really expensive one. That girl’s got nothing. She didn’t even have a pair of shoes as far as I could tell. And clothes? What the fuck were you doing all week with her? Feeding her a steady stream of your shitty used T-shirts? No wonder she called in the rescue squad.”