His Young Queen: (Steel Jackals MC #1)

by Tiff P. Raine

  “Take these off of him,” she wheezed, trying to get some oxygen into her lungs as she swiped at the tears blurring her vision. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Tish—”

  “You didn’t, though,” she insisted, even though she had no clue what this was about. She just knew they couldn’t take her happiness away from her. “Please take these off,” she begged the cop as she tried to stop the metal of the cuffs from digging into Josh’s thick wrists. “Please! They’re hurting him!”

  “Don’t be long, man,” the officer muttered with a sympathetic look before walking over to stand a few feet away.

  “No! Two min— No! I can’t— What? Josh!”

  “Hey. Hey! Look at me. Right here.” He bobbed his head to get in her line of vision. Feeling a panic unlike anything she’d ever felt, she looked up into those golden eyes she so loved. “This is happening,” he said calmly. “You need to take a breath and relax before this goes from bad to worse. If one of these cops thinks to pull you away from me, shit’s gonna get critical real fast. Got it?”

  She shook her head and looked around for someone she could talk to. Someone who would listen to her, help her.

  “Tish-Tosh.”

  His nickname for her—one he thought she hated, but really, secretly loved—had her focus coming right back to him.

  “You’re gonna be okay, honey. I won’t be in long. Nick will take—”

  “No! You’re not going anywhere!” she wailed. “You can’t! You’re mine, and I need you here!”

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, looking pained. He tipped his head back and glared up at the sky. “Two fuckin’ minutes? You couldn’t have given me two fuckin’ minutes to save her from this?” When he brought his head to rights, he looked into her eyes, and then his expression closed up in that way she hated. “Get her out of here. This isn’t good for her.”

  “What?” Her head whipped around, and she saw her Uncle Nick and the club’s VP right behind her. A large group of the others, all wearing their cuts, weren’t far behind. Silent support. Always. “No! I’m not going anywhere! You have to do something, Uncle Nick,” she implored as she clamped her arms around Josh’s waist and held on for her life. “This can’t be happening. Please tell me this isn’t happening,” she whispered fiercely.

  The next few minutes were a blur of pain and misery that Tish still wasn’t sure how she survived. It took both Nick and Chase to peel her off Josh, and once they were separated the cop rushed to open the back door to the squad car. He put his hand on Josh’s head and tucked that huge body into the backseat. When he shut the door, Tish went wild and started screaming.

  Only, in reality, she had stilled, and not a sound was coming from her. The screams were deafening, but they were buried deep in her head. In her heart. Tearing apart her soul.

  “He’ll be out before you know it, Tish,” Nick whispered, his voice rough with something that sounded like guilt.

  She shook her head and disengaged herself from his arms. Taking one step toward her sun, she absorbed the intense, regretful look in his gold eyes, and for the first time in her life whispered the words, “I love you.”

  Only once. She didn’t shout them. She didn’t repeat them. She said them once. Then calmly stood there and watched until her life disappeared down the street.

  A few hours later, she was sitting on one of the puffy couches next to the pool table in the clubhouse, frozen to the bone. Nick had gone to the bathroom, leaving her alone for the first time since they’d taken Josh away. What did he think she was going to do? Kill herself? She made a soft sound. No. That would be silly. She couldn’t be with Josh if she were dead. She couldn’t visit him. Couldn’t wait for him. Be here for him when he came home. Right now she simply needed her questions answered. Why wouldn’t anyone tell her why he’d been arrested?

  She looked over when she saw what she thought was Chase’s dog rushing to her. But it wasn’t Nom, it was Rachel, hunched over, as though trying to hide in plain view. There was no one left to hide from. Everyone had gone home except for her, Nick, Chase, and two of the other guys.

  When Rachel landed on her knees at Tish’s feet, she jumped, startled.

  “I’m sorry,” her mom whispered, eyes wild because she was high. “I’m sorry.” The repeated whisper was eerie, and it raised the hair on Tish’s nape, but she nodded anyway, accepting her mother’s idea of condolences even though they didn’t mean much right then.

  “I didn’t mean to take him away from you. I know how close you are. Sorrysorrysorry…”

  The bottom fell out of Tish’s stomach. “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t mean it. It was an accident!” her mom hissed. “I grabbed his jacket and put it on to go down the street to make a buy. I thought it was my brother’s!” She glanced behind her, as though afraid someone might catch her tattling. “When I came in, I tossed the jacket but forgot my shit in the pocket because I took a bump outside. When the cops landed with the warrant and pushed us all to the side, I was too scared to grab my stash ’cause I bought a double load this time and I wouldn’t have made it to the door without them seein’ me, right?”

  Tish sat there, her eyes wide, her heart barely beating as she listened to this selfish, horrible person try to excuse her appalling behavior.

  “When the cops waved the jacket around, and Josh put his hand up to claim it, I almost fuckin’ died. Then they took my stash out of the pocket, well, I couldn’t say anything then! You wouldn’t have either! And…and he didn’t even seem to care!” She was talking fast and no longer whispering now because she’d spotted Nick and Chase crossing over to them from the back hallway. Both men looked livid. “Ask anyone! You know what he said? You know what that asshole said?” She deepened her voice to imitate Josh. “‘Better me than you. Go home and take care of Tish.’ Like I need him to tell me how to take care of my kid.”

  As her uncle and his VP descended and all but dragged Rachel away, it was at that moment, after everything they’d been through, that Tish’s love for her mother finally died.

  ~ Chapter One ~

  Three Years Later

  Tish waved to her co-worker as he took off down the street with a chirp of his tires. Couldn’t get away fast enough. Seemed Brian’s girlfriend had just texted him to hurry home because she “needed him”. Tish, who’d known them both since seventh grade, would have been totally insulted had he not told her why he was dropping her on the corner rather than in front of her driveway the way he normally did. Instead, she was amused. Sex ruled. Or so she’d heard.

  She didn’t allow herself to dwell on why, at nearly twenty, she didn’t know personally. She couldn’t go there tonight. She felt weepy. Maybe her period was coming.

  She took in a useless lungful of hot air and cursed her uniform. It wasn’t the synthetic McDonald’s nightmare she used to wear, but the butt-hugging shorts and small black T-shirt with “Bubba’s” emblazoned across the front were fabric, and that fabric was already sticking to her because it was Arizona in August. Blowing her hair off her forehead, she aimed for home.

  She looked up at the stars as she walked, her boot heels clicking. She hated August. But wouldn’t always. In two years, it would be her favorite month. She looked forward to that particular August the same way she used to look forward to Sundays. She hated Sundays now, too. But wouldn’t always. When he came home, they might become her favorite day.

  As a truck drove past, and she neared the house her uncle had moved her into, rent-free, shortly after Josh had gone away, the cold anger that now lived within her bubbled up to make her eyes sting and her throat ache. She missed him. God, how she missed him. She wanted him to come home so badly it was a constant physical pain in her chest. She wanted him never to have left her. She wanted her mother to change places with him. It was Rachel who should be behind bars, serving a five-year sentence for illegal possession of a controlled substance, not Josh. But, no. Rachel was roaming free, shooting up and hopping fro
m one dealer’s bed to the next, happily feeding her addictions. While Josh remained locked away, alone, his freedom gone for something he’d had nothing to do with.

  She pursed her lips as she reached her house and stood looking up at the darkened residence. He wouldn’t be alone every single day if he would change his stubborn-ass mind and allow her to come to the prison. But he wouldn’t, and she didn’t know why. The only person who might know was her uncle, and he was too loyal to say shit. Nick was grumpy lately. Maybe his new responsibilities were piling up—he’d been honored with a VP patch eighteen months ago when, Chase, the previous VP was patched President.

  Yawning, she got her ass in gear and dragged her feet up the walkway. She might sleep in tomorrow. Time passed when she was asleep. She didn’t work until seven, which was unusual. Her normal shift on Saturdays was four until close. It was a long day, but she could always use the tips, which was why, if it wouldn’t interfere with school, she took any hours offered. She’d just started back for her final semester at the local community college and didn’t want anything to get in the way of her finishing.

  Taking her keys out of her purse, she glared up at the light that was once again out on the porch. She banged her fist to the right of the mailbox and squinted at the brightness that slammed into her eyeballs, blinding her for a minute. She stood there, blinking while her vision came back to her, then unlocked and entered the house.

  As she closed herself in, she smiled a little. With any luck, by the time Josh came home, the graphic arts business she planned on starting up after graduation would be thriving. She’d be able to brag about—

  Tish was screaming before she even thought to scream. She stumbled back and slammed into the door as a chair scraped and the dark shape of a man flew through the shadows at her. Terror was an electric buzz that raised the hair on her arms and legs when a strong arm snaked around her waist at the same time as a wide palm covered her mouth. As she belatedly thought to struggle, she heard the most amazing sound.

  “Easy, Tish-Tosh,” a familiar voice rumbled into her ear. “It’s just me. We don’t want to wake the neighbors with your enthusiastic greeting, do we?”

  With her body pressed against heat and steel, and her heart trying to beat its way out through her mouth, she managed to shut down the shrill sound coming from her throat.

  She pulled in some much-needed air, and with every inhalation that scent she’d know anywhere burrowed in and memories came. Josh dragging himself up from their sofa in the mornings to make her lunch and walk her to school. Josh occasionally picking her up at the end of the day and her proudly getting onto the back of his bike while her friends ooh’d and ahh’d because he was so intimidating and beautiful. Josh and Uncle Nick standing at the back of the auditorium, scaring all the other parents because they were proudly wearing their cuts as they clapped and whistled their approval as she took a bow after collecting her first place ribbon at a local spelling bee. And that last tender hug he’d given her when he’d told her not to come back to the prison to see him anymore.

  Emotion rose in her so strong she wasn’t sure how to process it. “Josh?” she tried to say but was hampered by that warm palm covering half her face.

  “Unless you gave someone else permission to use that nickname you hate, yeah, honey, it’s me.”

  He released her and went to step back, but she was having none of that. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could. She tried like hell not to cry by swallowing repeatedly, but it didn’t help.

  “Whoa,” he chuckled, wrapping her up again.

  She closed her eyes and savored the sound as her tears overflowed. Her breathing slowed then, and the world paused as everything inside her aligned once more. All she was reconnected, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Tish came to life. Body and mind she felt herself bloom. For this man. The desolation she’d felt without him, the resentment and confusion she’d felt since he’d shut her out disappeared, and the sigh that came from her was the slowest, happiest sound she’d ever made.

  ~ Chapter Two ~

  “Josh,” she whispered. “You’re home. Oh, my God, you’re really here.” She pushed her face into his neck and tried to compose herself. She was shaking like a leaf. “I missed you so much.

  “I got that.” He pressed a kiss to her hair and ran his hand over it as he held her tightly enough to let her know he’d missed her, too.

  “Why wouldn’t you see me anymore? You know what? Never mind,” she tacked on right away. Who cared about that now? “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re here.”

  “I told you back then that shithole was no place for innocent and soft. A girl like you should never have stepped foot in there.”

  The protective note laced through his voice really shouldn’t have sent heat sizzling down her spine, but it did. It zipped through her and settled low in her belly.

  “Okay. Enough with the strangle.”

  When she didn’t budge, he reached up, untangled her arms, and pulled them from around his neck. He walked away, and a second later, light flooded the room. “What the fuck are you doing out so—?”

  He’d come around to face her, and because she was gawking through another squint, she didn’t miss how his big body slowly seized up, his face darkening into that typical don’t-fuck-with-the-biker look he’d always effortlessly worn. He stared. She stared. He was just the same but appeared…grim. As if he hadn’t smiled in ages. His normally warm gold eyes were now dull, his tattooed skin paler than she’d ever seen it. He still wore his dirty blond hair in a faux-hawk that was tousled and long enough to flop on his forehead. So damn sexy, he was well over six feet and solid as stone.

  “You look fuckin’ different.” His voice was a low growl. Angry sounding. “This what you wear to work every night?”

  Her knees continued to knock, and she was beginning to think her heart would never slow. Swiping at her damp cheeks, she looked down at her uniform and hurriedly kicked off her black and gray cowboy boots because they looked out of place in the house. They weren’t so conspicuous when four other servers were wearing them as they traipsed around the wooden floors covered in peanut shells, but here they looked as though Tish was playing dress-up.

  “Yeah. They make us.” She slipped her socks off and stuffed them into the tops of the boots before padding over to stand closer to him. If she didn’t think it would send him running, she’d have hopped up and sat on his shoulder, cradling his head like those monkeys who over-love their owners. Not that Josh owned her. Which was too bad.

  “How are you? Are you okay? How are you even here right now?” she belatedly asked, shakily sighing her pleasure at this spectacular turn of events.

  When he didn’t reply, but stood staring down at her with narrowed eyes, she inched even closer and reached for one of his tattooed hands to bring it to her cheek for an affectionate rub. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered in wonder.

  His brows slammed down, and he patted her shoulder in an uncharacteristically awkward move before extracting his hand and going over to push the chair in at the table. How long had he been sitting there in the dark? What had he been thinking about? His time in prison? What would he do now that he was out? Return to running the salvage yard he and Nick owned together, she guessed.

  How the hell was he out? Did he hate her mom for putting him away? And, in effect, hate Tish, too? She’d been too afraid to ask him while he’d been inside, but that would explain why he’d stopped seeing her, and the get-it-away-from-me look in his eyes now.

  She didn’t voice any of her many questions but stood silent. Waiting.

  “Good behavior has its perks,” he finally said. “So does knowing the right people.” He swiped a finger across the counter as if doing a white glove test. “They call it early release. Why the fuck are you out on your own this time of night? Doesn’t the bar have a day shift you can work? And who the hell has been cleaning this place? It looks as i
f no one lives here, yet I can smell you all the fuck over it.”

  Oh, shit. Did that simple animalistic observation have to tickle every erogenous zone she had?

  “I, uh…” She cleared her throat and tried to pull her head out from under the sheets. “Um, I clean up every little while, but since it’s usually only me, I’m pretty tight. I don’t spread myself all over the house and make messes in every room. And I go to school during the day, which means I have to work at night. You know that. Unless you didn’t read my letters. Then you wouldn’t have known.” Why was his face flushing like that? “Are you hot? I can turn down the thermostat if you’d like. I don’t keep it very low because my uncle insists the bills are included in the rent.” She smiled, thinking of Nick. “But he won’t let me pay rent. When I push about it, he tells me to give it a rest and enjoy my good fortune. So I am. That’s another reason I like to take good care of the house. It’s the first place I’ve lived that feels like a real home to me. That’s pretty special.”

  How had she forgotten the square cut of his goateed jaw? And had her subconscious seriously neglected to add the thickness of his inked neck to her many dreams, and that gorgeous tattoo of the Grim Reaper holding up a royal flush? It stretched from below his left ear to disappear under his shirt. She knew the Reaper’s billowing cloak covered his shoulder and reached almost to his elbow.

  He took a couple of steps toward her. An odd light had entered his eyes, but it was gone in a blink and he stopped in the middle of the room. “This is your home, Tish,” he said gruffly. “It always will be.”

  She was too busy trying to understand his odd behavior to do much more than nod.