Shade's Lady

by Joanna Wylde

  Shitty to be me, because nobody seemed to have told him that.

  “Get inside,” he said, sounding angry. Really angry. His fingers dug into my arm and I wondered what the hell I’d ever done to him. If Rebel had blown us off, it wasn’t exactly my fault. I was just trying to do the two of them a favor.

  I stumbled up the steps behind Shade, surrounded by the other bikers who’d been riding with us. Several men on the porch shouted out a welcome, and I saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar frown at me, her expression thoughtful. Then we were through the door and in what would’ve been a greatroom, if this was a house.

  It wasn’t a house, though. Not even close.

  It didn’t have regular furniture, for one thing. Just lots of little tables, a few mismatched couches, two pool tables and a bar along one wall. Across the wall facing the door was a massive Reapers MC sign, complete with the skull and crossed scythes they all wore on the backs of their vests.

  Twin blondes wearing nothing but tiny jeans shorts stepped up to Shade. One blocked his path, rubbing her hand down his stomach toward the fly of his pants while the other glared at me.

  “You said you’d play with us tonight, Shade,” she huffed, boobs jiggling. I stared at them, mesmerized. I mean, they were right there, all naked and—

  “Change of plans,” he replied, and you’d never have guessed a gorgeous, half-naked chick was doing everything in her power to grab his cock. His indifference was chilling. She gave him a sexy little pout—a pout so hot that even I was turned on.

  Okay, not really, but you get the picture.

  I’d have been all over her if I swung that way.

  Instead of responding, Shade grabbed my wrist tighter and pulled me across the room, the crowd parting as more than one biker eyed me curiously. I recognized several more faces from the bar, and a few of the girls smiled at me knowingly.

  They definitely had the wrong idea about what was happening here, I realized. Shade hadn’t made a secret about his interest in me so I guess it was the logical conclusion, but still…

  “Where’s Rebel?” I demanded, but either Shade couldn’t hear me or he was ignoring me. I had a feeling it was the latter.

  Not good.

  We passed through the room and into a hallway with bathrooms on either side, then out the back door. There was a covered porch back here, too, full of people smoking. Broad steps led down to a courtyard. In the center was a bonfire. Along the right was a concrete block wall with a covered walkway running alongside. Cleverly hidden speakers played the same music as inside.

  I’d never really given much thought to what an MC clubhouse would look like, but this definitely didn’t match any of my stereotypes. Under normal circumstances, I’d be full of questions. Tonight, Shade hustled me toward the building on the far side of the courtyard so fast that I could hardly keep up.

  This one was long and low and it looked much older. Sort of like a bunkhouse, I decided, with regular windows along the wall. The kind of thing you’d see on a ranch or in a logging camp. The door opened and out stumbled an older man who was clearly drunk, along with a much younger woman who giggled and tugged at her skirt.

  Oh, hell no.

  This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. I didn’t know what was in there for sure, but I’d bet good money it wasn’t Rebel with a birthday cake and a bow around his neck.

  “I want to go home,” I said, jerking back against Shade, trying to stop him. He spun on me, his face dark and intense.

  “We’ll talk inside,” he snarled, then started forward again.

  Shit shit shit!

  My bunkhouse prediction was right—we passed through the building and turned left, heading down a long hallway with doors on either side at regular intervals. Some were open. I smelled pot in the air. As we walked past one door, I glanced in to find a man I’d seen at the Pit lying back on the bed, smoking a blunt while a blond head bobbed in his lap.

  I had no place in my head to store this.

  Shade opened a door and pushed me through roughly. I caught a glimpse of a bed before I stumbled. He caught me, kicking the door shut even as he slammed my body against it, covering it with his.

  His mouth slanted over mine in the most brutal kiss I’d ever experienced, hands reaching down to grab my thighs, hoisting them up to wrap my legs around his waist.

  Chapter Four

  My world exploded in a bizarre mix of outrage, fear, confusion and desire. Shade’s tongue demanded access to my mouth and I felt his dick between my legs, hard and ready to go. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to do something.

  Anything.

  My mouth opened to tell him to fuck off and Shade took advantage, thrusting his tongue deep inside. My hands flew up to his hair, my fingers digging deep as I jerked his head back as hard as I could. There was a secret, fucked-up part of me that was turned on by his raw sexuality but I was not down with this.

  Shade kissed me for a few seconds longer. He could take this as far as he wanted, I realized—no one in this building would lift a finger to stop him.

  Holy.

  Fucking.

  Shit.

  I exploded into action, bucking hard as I ripped at his hair. Shade didn’t even notice. For an instant, I thought he would go through with it. Then he dropped me, turning away and stalking across the room, punching the wall in sudden fury. Plaster cracked, and he gave a low groan—pain? Frustration? I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it didn’t bode well for Yours Truly. I scrambled to stand as he leaned forward against the shattered wall, then punched it again. Sweet baby Jesus. The situation was falling apart fast.

  I reached for the doorknob.

  “Do not open that door,” he snarled, and I jumped away like a kid caught trying to steal a cookie. Did the guy have eyes in the back of his head? Shade took a deep, slow breath, then turned back to me, his expression full of dark fire.

  “What the fuck’s your game?”

  “Excuse me?” I replied, astounded.

  “Excuse me?” he mocked, his lip curling. “Where the fuck do you think you are, Mandy? This isn’t the bar and you aren’t gonna get a better tip just ’cause you got a cute ass. You don’t fuckin’ tease a man like me, and you sure as fuck don’t do it in my own Goddamned clubhouse!”

  Shade’s voice rose as he stalked toward me, all lean strength and grace. Pure predator. I froze, trying to figure out my next move as his words slowly sunk in.

  “Wait,” I said, raising a hand. He glared at it, and I dropped it back down again, wringing my fingers together nervously. “What are you talking about?”

  “You came here of your own free will,” Shade snapped. “Don’t play stupid.”

  “I came here to drive Rebel’s truck back home for him,” I replied, more confused by the minute. “Then you brought me here and dragged me inside. How the hell is that teasing? You scare the shit out of me—I don’t even like serving you drinks at the Pit, let alone visiting your stupid clubhouse!”

  My voice had grown shrill, the last few words almost a scream.

  Shade stilled.

  “What did Rebel tell you?” he asked, his voice going so cold that it was almost scarier than when he’d been yelling. Oh my God, he was going to murder me and then my sister wouldn’t have anyone to help with the kids and they’d bury me in an unmarked grave and squirrels would eat my eyeballs and—

  Mandy! Pull your shit together!

  “He told me that he’s buying a motorcycle from you,” I said hesitantly. “He wanted to pick it up tonight. He said you were giving him a bargain, and that if he waited you might change your mind. I’m just here to drive the truck back after he gets the bike.”

  Shade stared at me, his expression unreadable.

  “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

  “It’s not stupid to help out my boyfriend!”

  “It is when your boyfriend sets you up. If you were just comin’ to pick up a bike, why didn’t you ride with him?” Shade asked, the words slow and stead
y. Like I was a particularly dim child.

  Jerkface.

  “Because he has a bunch of shit loaded in the truck cab. He didn’t come to the bar expecting to buy a bike tonight. He asked me to ride with you because there wasn’t room with him.”

  But as soon as the words were out, I could see his point. Rebel’s excuse to get me on Shade’s bike was weak. Really weak. But it wasn’t like I went around expecting my boyfriend to…do what? Something wrong, but I still had no clue what the hell was really going on here.

  “I’m gonna kill him,” Shade said slowly, running a hand through his hair. This gave it a sexy, tousled look that would’ve been very attractive if I hadn’t been so busy trying not to pee my pants. “Piece of shit needs to go down.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Rebel traded you to me.”

  The words were blunt.

  Harsh.

  Impossible to wrap my head around. I opened my mouth to ask a question, then snapped it shut again because I wasn’t even sure what question to ask. I mean, I’d heard what he said, but it didn’t make any sense.

  “He traded you to me,” Shade repeated without a hint of compassion in his eyes. “For the bike. He was short on cash and he knew that I wanted you, so that’s what he offered. I asked if you were okay with it and you said yes. So here we are.”

  “I…” My mouth wouldn’t work right. It was like the muscles had gone into shock or something. “H-he traded me?”

  “Like a baseball card.”

  Words failed me. Oh my God. This isn’t happening, is it? Thoughts swirled through my head, along with about a thousand different emotions, but one slowly won out.

  Anger.

  Raw, unadulterated fury.

  Shade wasn’t going to kill Rebel. Oh, no. If anyone slit that fucker’s throat, it’d be me. But first I’d amputate his balls with a very rusty spoon. Maybe make him eat them.

  “What the hell is wrong with you people?” I finally managed to ask. “You can’t trade a human being! Rebel’s my boyfriend, not my fucking owner! And who the hell accepts a person as a trade for a bike?”

  Shade gave me a twisted smile.

  “A Reaper.”

  That sent a chill down my spine because, crazy as it sounded, the man was dead serious.

  “In the MC world, you’re property,” he added bluntly. “How the hell did you spend so much time with his club and not pick up on that?”

  This was a good question.

  I’d seen the vests some women wore, saying property of and their boyfriend’s names… It’d always seemed kind of weird. Maybe even cute, in a very politically incorrect way. I hadn’t taken it literally, let alone given it serious thought.

  Truthfully, I hadn’t given much of anything about Rebel a lot of thought.

  That’d been one of the chief benefits of having him as a boyfriend, given the train wreck my marriage had been. I didn’t have to think about him or worry or plan for the future. We were just having fun together. No stress, no expectations. Just him and me hanging out, riding his bike and occasionally getting drunk and going down on each other. After all the shit I’d gone through with Trevor, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted a “real” relationship again.

  “Okay,” I said, my brain spinning. “Okay, we need to figure this out. Is Rebel coming here?”

  “No, he’ll pick you up tomorrow, assuming you still want to go with him. And don’t worry—he’ll show up. No bike until he brings the cash.”

  “Wait, I thought I was the payment.”

  Shade cocked a brow, a mocking smile twisting his mouth. “It’s a three thousand dollar bike. He was short five hundred. You didn’t actually think I’d give him a fucking motorcycle worth three grand just to bang his girlfriend, did you?”

  I blinked.

  What he’d said wasn’t exactly flattering, but it was hard to argue. Would I pay three thousand bucks to have sex with someone? Hell, no. Not even David Beckham, and I’d loved him fiercely ever since I’d learned there was a difference between girl parts and boy parts. I shot a glance at Shade, realizing he looked more than a little like Becks, come to think of it. There was just something about him…

  No. Just no.

  “I wouldn’t have thought you’d need to pay women to sleep with you,” I said, then gave myself a mental kick because that was way too revealing. Shade smiled and took another step toward me. I swallowed. “That came out wrong. I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can just forget this happened? I mean, obviously I’m going to kill Rebel, but that doesn’t really have anything to do with you…”

  Well, aside from the fact that he’d been the one on the other end of the trade. Five hundred bucks. I couldn’t tell if that was a flattering amount or not.

  “I’ll take care of Rebel,” Shade said, his voice casual but his eyes all business. “If you wanna leave, feel free.”

  I reached for the door, opening it to find two women making out in the hallway, complete with hands on each other’s asses and tongues down each other’s throats. A couple of very drunk-looking men watched, one with his hand down his pants. I slammed the door shut and turned to find Shade watching me closely.

  “Change your mind?” he asked, cocking a brow. “Not like you’re a prisoner here.”

  Yeah, right. Nobody but Rebel knew where I was. I didn’t even have a phone. Even if I made it back through the clubhouse safely, I’d still have to walk miles before I reached town.

  “Um, can I borrow your phone? Mine fell in the toilet this morning. I’m pretty sure it’s dead.”

  “No service out here,” Shade said, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Of course you could use the landline. Assuming you can find one of the officers and convince him your phone call is more important than whatever—whoever—he’s doing.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think.

  “Will you help me?” I finally asked. Shade shrugged.

  “Maybe later,” he said. “But right now I’m more interested in gettin’ my dick sucked. I was under the impression you had a happy ending for me.”

  I shivered, torn between disgust and a sick curiosity about what a happy ending with Shade would feel like. God knew I wouldn’t be having any happy endings with Rebel any time soon—whatever else came out of tonight, our relationship was over.

  Now what?

  “Tell you what,” Shade said slowly. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  I didn’t want to trust him, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of choices here. “I’m listening…”

  “We’ll compromise,” he continued. “Tonight didn’t go right for either of us. Let’s have a drink and relax for a while, then I’ll go find someone to suck my dick and you can crash here. You’ll be fine. Not a man in this building is stupid enough to fuck with my woman.”

  “I’m not your woman,” I insisted quickly, and he cocked that brow again.

  “You’re in my room and you’re gonna sleep in my bed tonight. You’re under my protection. Makes you my woman, at least in their eyes. That means nobody’ll touch you without my permission, and tomorrow I’ll take you home, safe and sound.”

  “And what do you get out of this?” I asked, suspicious. Shade turned away, walking over to a dresser I hadn’t noticed before. On the top was a bottle of what looked like whiskey, along with some plastic cups.

  “I’m not getting jack shit,” he said, opening the bottle and pouring a drink. “Which is why you should take me up on it before I change my mind. You wanna be pissed at someone, save it for your loser boyfriend.”

  He filled the second cup, then turned to me, holding it out. I considered, wondering if he was planning to drug me or something. God, how had I gotten into this?

  How many times do you have to get screwed over before you learn, Mandy?

  “What, you scared I’m gonna roofie you?” Shade asked. The words were ugly but he seemed more amused than anything. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but you aren’t worth a felony. I mean, you go
t a nice ass, but life is too fuckin’ short to spend it in jail. Not only that, unlike your boyfriend, I’m not a fuckin’ liar. I’m gonna do something to you, I’ll tell you because I’m not a little bitch.”

  While I wasn’t a huge fan of the “little bitch” reference, I had to admit it summed up my feelings toward Rebel pretty well. And a drink really would be good… I reached for the cup, knocking it back quickly. Its smooth burn startled me because it was good—really good. Whiskey wasn’t my favorite, but I’d served enough of it to know this wasn’t the cheap-ass shit Bone kept on the bottom shelf. Shade gave a low laugh, knocking back his own shot. I felt the alcohol warm me as he refilled the glasses. Drinking any more was probably a bad idea, but I could probably sip at it without getting wasted.

  There’s a time and a place for liquid courage.

  Shade turned and sat down on the bed, leaning against the backboard. He took another swallow of whiskey while I searched for a place to sit. My options were the bed or the floor, so I leaned back against the door instead.

  “So…” I said, wondering what the hell to talk about. Shade eyed me, and while there was still heat in his gaze, I wasn’t getting the same sense of threat from him. He’d relaxed, I realized. He really wasn’t coming after me.

  Disappointed? I asked myself. Don’t be a moron. This is a gift. Take it.

  Maybe Shade and I could become friends and he’d help me hide Rebel’s body. He probably knows all the best ways to kill someone without making a mess.

  This was the kind of information I needed.

  “What the hell are you doing with a piece of shit like Rebel?” Shade asked, raising one of his legs and resting the arm holding the glass across his knee. The fabric of his jeans pulled tight between his legs and—

  I looked away, suddenly fascinated by the hole where he’d punched the wall.

  “You gonna answer the question?” Shade asked, sounding amused. I glanced back toward him.

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe we’re soul mates,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. Damn, that was really smooth. Shade cocked a brow and laughed.

  “No, probably not. Seriously—why the hell are you with him? Rebel’s a piece of shit.”