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Ignite Page 14

by Holly S. Roberts


  That’s the thing with bikers. They fight, they shake it off, and they’re still friends when the dust settles. But if I kill the guy who just touched Beth, I doubt the club will kiss me and make up after his blood drains out on the floor.

  “You don’t want to tangle with Gar,” Dax says from behind me.

  My eyes scrape across the bar and focus on Beth again. She smiles and laughs at something one of the guys says. “Burning off steam and bloodying my knuckles seems like a good time right now.” I don’t mention murder, which is what I’m actually contemplating.

  “I have no doubt the evening will end exactly how you want it to. But no one will ruin my woman’s party in the first two hours,” he says with a deadly look that speaks volumes. “I assigned Vampire to watch over Beth for the evening. He won’t let anyone cross the line.”

  I’ve kept half an eye on Beth but now give Dax my full attention. The burn of his words turns my anger up ten notches. “You knew I’d be here. Why the fuck would you assign another man to watch my woman?” I grind my teeth to keep myself from exploding. The corners of Dax’s lips tip to the slightest degree. If he smiles right now, he’ll be the first person I deck.

  “Interesting,” he says lightly. “You’ve been missing in action for two weeks. Your. Woman,” he cocks an eyebrow, “is barely holding it together. She takes care of her baby around the clock and rarely allows anyone’s help. From my perspective it’s hard to judge whether you’re a blind fool or just an idiot.” Dax steps closer so his face is inches from mine. “Plenty of guys here are sick of your shitty attitude. They’ll be happy to take off a little steam with you as a punching bag. But you will give my woman two hours before blood spills or I’ll kick your ass myself.”

  I’m sucking air into my lungs and having little success holding back the red hot rage.

  “No,” Sofia growls from a few feet away. “This is my party and the two of you will not ruin it.”

  Dax backs off, but I don’t take my eyes away from his.

  Sofia gives me a small shove. “Don’t be looking at my man that way. I’ll just shoot your ass.” Her hand goes to her hip and sure enough, she has a handgun holstered in the belt at her waist.

  The clouds clear from my head and I slide my eyes from Dax to Sofia. “Did you give her the damn shirt she’s spilling out of?”

  Sofia has the audacity to laugh. “You’ll also take the fight you’ll be having in two hours outside or you’ll be replacing what you break.” She loops her arm around her husband’s waist and all but drags him away from me. Dax gives me a hard gaze before reluctantly walking off. I’m aware I’ve pissed off the wrong person, and a large part of me just doesn’t give two shits.

  I take up position across the room so I have a clear line of sight to Beth. If my crossed arms, clenched jaw, and stalker-like gaze don’t keep the guys away from her, I’ll happily do it with my fists. In two hours. Fuck.

  One of the club women brings me a beer. “I’m Dina. You want company?” she asks after sitting the beer down on the table.

  Her mistake is blocking my vision of Beth. “No, get the fuck away.”

  Her hands go to her hips. “How about I crash that bottle over your fat head.”

  I look up and give her the famous Street stare I learned from my father. “How about you try.”

  “Dick,” she huffs and walks off.

  God, now I’m threatening women. It’s a new low. I drag my hand across my face. What in the fuck is wrong with me? Thank God she left the beer. I drain it hoping it’ll help calm my ass.

  The minutes tick by. Beth stays behind the bar. Red’s not here, so I’m guessing she has Carson and the twins. Sofia gives me death eyes every fifteen minutes or so, which I ignore. Beth hasn’t looked at me once and does everything in her power to avoid gazing anywhere in my direction. She also doesn’t chat too long with any one guy, so I slowly start to unwind. I’m not lucky enough to have another beer delivered to my table, so I decide to approach the bar.

  I ignore when the noise level in the room drops as I approach. Vampire tips his beer at me and gives the guy on the stool beside him a direct look. The guy leaves quickly. Vampire kicks out the stool another few inches and I take it.

  Beth’s pouring a tequila shot and the bottle starts shaking. She doesn’t look up. I take the bottle from her and finish pouring the shot. She finally glances up. Keeping my eyes on hers, I down the shot.

  Bad idea, I say silently. I shouldn’t drink more than another beer. And I really don’t give a fuck and pour another. This close, her breasts are much more visible than they were across the room. Through the white top I can see the outline of her nipples and all I want to do is kill every motherfucker who’s had an eyeful.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Beth

  THE CLOTHES I’M WEARING were Sofia’s idea. She’s tired of me sulking and she thinks I need to push Rack on his ass. The fact that my breasts are ready to erupt with the need to feed my son only makes the display I’m putting on worse. I don’t look down to see if my nipples are leaking. That would only put a cap on a non-perfect night. To say I’ve always dressed conservatively is an understatement. I’m far from a prude at least where other women are concerned but for myself, I prefer large sweaters and jeans. Not that you can wear sweaters in the desert in the summer. I have good legs, but living in Montana means there’s limited time to display them. Even when I could, I would go for longer shorts and not the ones I’m currently wearing that barely cover my post-baby ass cheeks.

  I’m an idiot. It’s killed me not to look at Rack over the past hour. There’s no doubt he’s been looking at me. I feel the burn of his gaze from across the room. Now he’s directly in front of me and when I look up, I’m captured by a heat too hot to touch.

  He’s avoided me for two weeks and now every unsaid word is in his dark eyes. I can’t do this. I have absolutely no backbone. “I need to feed Carson.” I turn and charge from behind the bar and head through the kitchen to the back door.

  I feel him behind me. His hand around my arm makes me turn and it doesn’t matter that I’m running, I’m also ready to fight. “No,” I say with venom. I disregard the beautiful lines of his face, his lips that make me yearn, his bulging arms that promise safety, his thick neck that I want to sink my teeth into. I shake off the butterflies that fill my stomach just from looking at him. “I’m heading to feed Carson and you need to do whatever it is you do now and stay away from me.”

  His eyes blaze. He lets me go. I back up and turn. I feel him watching from the back door when I go inside Red’s trailer. Carson is fussing and the ache in my breasts increases.

  “He’s been hanging in there until just a few minutes ago,” Red says when she turns. She’s walking with Carson against her shoulder. The twins are passed out on the couch. I’ve grown close to them these past two weeks. Masey is the exact replica of her mother in image and temperament. I saw Sofia’s temper in full bloom when one of the club members swore in front of Masey and Masey immediately repeated it. The man is lucky he walked away with only a bruised jaw. The funny part was the calm before the storm. Sofia took Masey’s hand and said very sweetly before escorting her out of the room, “Loki, stay right there, I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Loki was on a ladder replacing a lightbulb in the ceiling of the kitchen. A few minutes later Sofia walked back in as Loki was coming off the ladder. She cold-cocked him and he went to his ass with his legs splayed in front of him and a stunned expression on his face as he rubbed his jaw.

  “I’ve made the rules very clear. I keep the twins out of the front room as much as possible and if they overhear your language it’s on me. The kitchen and upstairs are off limits for your filthy mouth. Find some place to eat until next week or I’ll put a vice grip around your balls and pop them.” Her voice was low and precise, leaving no room for argument.

  “Sorry, it won’t happen again,” he said before standing, folding the ladder, and carrying it
out of the kitchen.

  Sofia turned to me after he was gone. “It will take me weeks to break that little heathen of saying that word.”

  I smiled. Sofia smiled. And we both busted out laughing. Sure enough “ass wipe” became Masey’s new favorite word. Then there’s Jonathan. Where his sister is a little pistol, he’s a mamma’s boy. He enjoys being around his father and the men but he’s always finding his mommy for cuddle time. He loves Carson and even sings lullabies to him when he’s fussing.

  “Hold babwe,” he says whenever he wants to hold Carson. It’s the cutest thing and I prop him on the couch with Carson in his arms.

  I envy Sofia and her family. Their life has shown me what it means to be happy and loved. It’s also changed my opinion on the members of the club and the lives they lead. The respect they give Sofia, the teasing, and their willingness do whatever she asks is undeniable proof that hard men can be gentle too. She takes care of them, feeds them, listens to them complain about their problems, and kicks their asses when they need it.

  Then there’s Dax. Sofia told me the story about his first wife’s death and his prison sentence. Dax and his men might be outlaws but their hearts are good and their sense of loyalty unwavering.

  I take Carson from Red’s arms and carefully sit beside Masey and Jonathan so I don’t wake them.

  “Don’t worry, they’re passed out for the night. I’ll move them to the spare room after you return to the party. There’s a playpen set up in there and you can put Carson down in it so you can let loose.”

  Red has been incredibly nice to me. She understood from the start that I don’t want Carson out of my sight and she never pushes. Sofia insisted I allow Red to babysit so I can knock some sense into Rack. Too bad I failed miserably.

  I smile at Red. “I’m not going back. If you want to go and join Curly at the party, I’ll watch the kids. I can fall asleep here on your couch if you’ll wake me when you come back.”

  Red’s mouth twitches and she shakes her head. “Every person in this club knows that you and that man should be together. Sofia put this party on for one reason and I’ll be damned if I crash her plans.”

  “You don’t understand,” I say wearily.

  “I understand perfectly.” She pushes a wisp of red hair out of her face. “Men let you down and put you down. I’ve been there, bought the T-shirt, and mopped up their blood with it when I kicked them to the curb. There’s no shame as long as you learn from your mistakes. I have no doubt you’ll protect that little guy with your life. Your man is your life too and you need to protect him the same way. That means plucking up the courage and taking the first step.”

  She makes it sound so simple. She’s right, though. I was never like this before Kevin and Angelo. My brother would hate the half-woman I’ve become. “I can’t have sex yet,” I blurt out before thinking. Heat rises up my neck.

  Red’s loud laugh startles Carson, but the twins don’t move. I switch Carson to my other breast. “I haven’t had to give the sex talk in…well never,” she says and laughs again. “You got a set of lips on you and there isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t want them wrapped around his dick.” She rolls her eyes. “Okay, maybe Curly only wants my lips and Dagger only wants Sofia’s but damn girl, a man will follow you anywhere for a blow job.”

  Even though I’m embarrassed, I go for broke. “He already turned down a blow job. He got me off and when I offered to return the favor, he said no.”

  This doesn’t shake Red at all. “You get down on those knees of yours and bat those long lashes and he won’t stop you. Lick your lips, unzip his pants, and give one stroke with your tongue. He’ll be a goner.”

  I can’t believe it’s come to this and I’m taking advice on forcing Rack to accept a blow job. Red walks down the hallway and returns with a tube of lipstick. She pops the top off and shows me. “This will do the trick.”

  It’s deep cherry red.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rack

  I LEAN AGAINST THE doorjamb and wait for Beth to leave Red and Curly’s trailer. The minutes tick by while I mentally slam myself for being such an ass. Beth will be living a very different life shortly and making her own decisions. I won’t be around to make sure a man doesn’t touch her or say something inappropriate. She’ll find another man. One who will be a father to Carson.

  Anger and hopelessness twist inside me. Two cartel members directly responsible for my brother’s death are still breathing. I didn’t expect it to take this long. I have pictures of them but not names. Killing these last two men has gone far beyond vengeance. I’ve taken risks and should be dead. On my last trip into Mexico I came so close to getting their names. Gomez and I have put the pressure on rival cartels and it will pay off, eventually. It must.

  I carry their pictures in my wallet on the opposite side where I’ve kept Beth’s. I remove them and with the kitchen light shining over my shoulder, I study the two men. Their eyes are what separate them from the people in my world. They would kill their mothers for a step up in their criminal world. They decapitated my brother. I’ve never found a video but his imagined screams ring in my head. This nightmare haunts my sleep and keeps me on this path. No one’s family should suffer like mine has.

  I’m well aware Afghanistan changed me. Nothing of the young man who went to war with red, white, and blue dreams of heroism still exists. War does that to you. I remember coming back from two weeks in the desert and finally making it safely behind the walls surrounding the U.S.-built Gardez Hospital. United States diplomats and high-ranking officers have all the luxuries of home while enlisted men, even Special Forces, had tents and dirt floors. We were hot, filthy, and completely exhausted. We hadn’t slept in days. For safety reasons, we had to leave our vehicles outside the walls in a covered garage and enter through the gate on foot. Our tents were set up on the east end of the grounds, about half a mile from where we came in. A Humvee driver pulled over and offered the six of us a lift. The vehicles usually transported “important” personnel. We were thankful for the ride and climbed into the vehicle. Before we could pull away, a diplomat flagged the driver. His wife was with him. We squeezed together to make room, practically sitting on each other’s laps.

  “I can’t handle the smell, honey,” Mrs. Diplomat whined to her husband. The man told us to get out and walk. I’ll never forget how it felt. Hell, they had a fucking spa at their disposal. We’d lost two of our men keeping their asses safe.

  Then there was the oil train. The American-built Gardez Hospital has no gas pipeline coming in to keep the electricity running. The oil supply train, which my unit protected many times, is their only source of oil. Car bombs, IEDs, and snipers make the trip long and dangerous. We all knew as soon as the U.S. pulled out, the billions spent on the hospital would be wasted because the Afghan people had no way to keep the electricity running.

  Money. Everything has a price tag and that’s all they cared about. American lives mean little. I don’t care if it’s Republicans or Democrats in control of the U.S. government—money fucking rules. The lesson came home even harder when Moon rescued me in Mexico minutes before I got my ass shot. Moon had money and power. He also had a sense of decency. I rarely saw it among the Afghan power brokers, and the drug cartels lack even minor decency.

  Add my three tours in Afghanistan, my brother’s death followed by Nick’s, and all that’s left is a black hole that not even Beth can close. I touch the three crosses on my neck. I’m the man who says no to salvation.

  I place the two well-worn pictures in my wallet and shove it into my back pocket. I need to focus on the goal. To do that I need the paperwork Gomez promised and I need to send Beth away.

  My attention turns to the squeak of the trailer door opening. I stay where I am. I haven’t kept Beth up to speed on the plans and she needs to know. I don’t care how angry she is. She’ll stop and listen to what I have to say. I place my hand out and she shoves me hard against the doorjamb. I laugh at her display of aggressi
on. The laugh dies when she seals her lips to mine. It’s everything our last kiss was…and more. Beth’s a tiger and she sinks her claws through my shirt into my skin.

  Her knee lifts and presses against my hardening cock, causing me to groan into her mouth. I start to pull her closer but she releases me and backs into the kitchen. “I have another hour behind the bar. It won’t matter if you run and hide. I’ll find you. Whatever shit’s been going through your head for the past two weeks is over. If not, leave and don’t look back. Dax and the club will protect me.”

  Before I can answer, she saunters away in shorts that barely cover her ass. Me and my stone-hard cock follow. I take up residence at the table I vacated earlier. I forgo alcohol. Nothing will happen when her bar shift is over, but to keep that reality in check, I need a clear head. Even if I decided sex with Beth was in our best interests, Dr. Santos’s words fill my head. “Four to six weeks,” he told me. We still have seven days until the four week mark.

  “Hell,” I mutter. No alcohol. No Beth. No making this entire situation worse than it is.

  Vampire nods at me from across the room and points to the hallway to the left. I take this to mean he needs to piss. I nod, keep my eyes on Beth, and think about the kiss she gave me. Movement from the corner of my eye makes me glance away from the bar. Gar, the club member from earlier, is making his way back to Beth.

  I sit up straighter.

  I can’t hear what he says, but Beth’s expression changes instantly. I’m out of the chair and five feet closer when she tosses a drink in his face. I have no idea if I’m clear of the two-hour mark, but I no longer give a fuck. I grab Gar by the arms and fling him away from the bar. His entire focus turns to me. He lifts his massive arm and roars. I block the fist he throws at my head and drive upward with a fist to his gut.

 

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