by Jordan Marie
“Wolf… I’m not… I mean I’m not…”
“And you don’t have to be, baby. Not now.”
He gives me one last squeeze and then leaves. I listen to his footsteps and once they fade away I sink to the floor. The view outside slowly blurs as the tears begin to fall.
Devil
“How is it fucking possible there’s not one woman at this damn thing?” I mutter to Diesel.
We’re all standing around a plot at the cemetery, waiting for the other bikers to file in. Diesel and I were at the back of the pack and we’re already here. The dude’s own men were in the front but they rode farther up the cemetery and are now piling in.
“Maybe they are back at the club waiting for the party?” Diesel answers, sounding like he could care less. Truth is he probably does. He hasn’t looked at a woman since the last chick he trusted fucked him over. Violet was a sweet enough chick, until it turned out that she was Diesel’s crazy ex’s sister. Too bad the fucker doesn’t like dick, because his taste in pussy sucks ass.
“If not, I’m ditching this damn thing early.”
“You can’t need laid that bad, asshole.”
“Sometimes a sweet piece can cure an ailing soul,” I tell him, grinning.
“I don’t think it’s your soul ailing. You might want to get your dick checked out if you’re feeling bad. It has a bigger chance of coming into contact with… germs.”
I flip him off and he laughs. It sounds rusty on him; Diesel definitely doesn’t spend his time laughing.
“Well hello there…” I say, ending in a long whistle as a customized Road King purrs by us. It’s a beautiful electric blue girl, a real classic with ape hangers that add to the beauty. Her pipes rack so beautifully my dick throbs, but that’s not what has my eye. No, what has it is the beauty on the back of the bike. She’s got a helmet on with a face guard so I can’t tell much about that. What I can see is the worn black leather riding outfit she’s wearing that’s clinging to her body so fucking perfectly I want to groan. She’s leaning back and you can tell she’s a natural on a bike.
She’s wearing a leather cut and it hugs those luscious tits so much I want to cry mama and latch onto them. As they pass there’s a patch on the back of her cut I read plainly and I hate it.
Property of Wolf.
“That’s the guy I had the meeting with. Wolf… he’s one lucky motherfucker,” Diesel murmurs.
“Can’t argue with that,” I answer, mostly to myself. I have no idea if Diesel hears me. I’m too busy hating the bastard on the bike.
I start walking, falling in step behind Diesel as we head toward the cemetery plot. I try to keep my gaze on his back, but instead I watch the bike park up and the girl slide off. Her ass is as fucking amazing as the rest of her. Wolf gets off and his arm goes gently around the girl’s back. Jealousy fires through me, which is a fucking alien emotion and I’m not sure I like it at all. The girl takes her helmet off and I curse the fact that she has her back to me. I want to see her face. She may never be mine, but I’d really like to know if it measures up to her body.
Wolf pulls the girl in closer, kissing her forehead gently and he leans down to whisper something in her ear. His movements show he values her, which is bad news for me, but proves the bastard knows what he’s got. Long brown hair tumbles down the girls back once she’s free of the helmet. It’s beautiful. There’s hints of dark blond and even copper shining through as the sun reflects on it. I’ve only see hair that beautiful one other time…
Torrent.
Fuck, now I am dreaming. That’s just proof I need to get laid. I thought I was getting better about leaving Torrent in my past. The very last place I’d ever see Torrent again is on the back of some man’s bike, encased in leather and attending a wake for a fallen member. I don’t know what it is about that girl that got her hooks into me so deeply—but it’s clear she still has a hold on me.
“Diesel. Good to see you here. I appreciate you coming out, man,” Wolf says clasping Diesel’s hand in welcome.
“We wanted to pay our respects. This is my Sergeant of Arms, Devil.”
“Devil, good of you to come,” Wolf says. I shake his hand, but my eyes go to the woman. Her back is still to me, but I heard a gasp when my name was mentioned. I’m even more fucked up than I thought, or…
“Do I know you?” I ask the woman’s back, ignoring Wolf, which is probably not the wisest move on my part. I can feel his tension as if it was a physical force.
“Devil,” Diesel says, and I know he’s warning me. Shit. I shouldn’t have addressed the woman—I know that—I just can’t help myself.
“Come here, baby,” Wolf says, taking the girl in his arms again and turning her around to face us. The placement of his arm and the look on his face give a signal of ownership. They’re meant to warn me away. But I don’t pay attention to that. Fuck, I barely glance at him. I’m too busy locking eyes with the woman who has haunted me. The woman with beautiful brown hair whose highlights sparkle in the sun. The woman whose whiskey eyes have haunted my dreams.
“Torrent,” I manage to say, confusion laced in every syllable of the word.
“Torrent?” Diesel repeats. “Your Torrent?”
Wolf’s growl is quiet, but definitely heard. He doesn’t like Diesel’s reference. I don’t bother saying anything. I couldn’t if I tried. I’m too busy trying to recover.
“Hi, Logan,” Torrent says and until I hear her sweet voice saying my name I honestly thought I was suffering some kind of psychotic break where my mind made all this shit up.
But I’m not.
This is her.
This is Torrent.
My Torrent.
And she’s wearing another man’s colors and another man’s cut.
“Ain’t this a kick in the balls,” I mutter, stepping back and feeling like I can’t catch my breath.
Fuck.
Torrent
Lord? Don’t you think I’ve received enough sucker punches?
I mutter that prayer in my head. I suppose instead of a prayer it’s more of a what-the-fuck moment. There’s a part of me that wonders if there is a God above, if he’s punishing me for pretending to be a nun. Or maybe he hates me in general—that’s completely possible.
As if today wasn’t going to be hard enough, I had to run into the one man I’ve wanted to see for way too long and the one man that I never want to see again.
“Hi, Logan,” I respond, wishing I could disappear. His blue eyes—the same ones that I used to dream about—feel like they are boring into me. Most of the bruises from my injuries have faded in the three weeks since my father’s death. What you can still see I’ve managed to cover with makeup. The worst of the bruises are under my nose and the side of my mouth. There was a cut that got infected and even now it’s still a bit puffy. It’s hardly noticeable, but because I know it’s there I act like I’m scratching the side of my nose and then turn a little to the side so Devil doesn’t get a direct view. Wolf thinks I’m turning into him for comfort and as horrible as it is to let him continue to think it—I do. It works to my advantage right now.
“You know these men, Tor?”
“I met Devil during my time in… hiding at the convent,” I answer Wolf, but I look at Devil from under my lashes. I see exactly when he understands, because his body visibly jerks.
“Convent? Is this the nun, man?” the man with Devil asks. I look at his cut and read his name. Diesel. I remember Devil talking about him during our lunches. My heart quickens at the thought he might have mentioned me to his president.
Devil looks at me. His blue eyes bore into me and I feel them as if they were a literal touch.
“I don’t know who she is,” his deep voice rumbles, his face completely closed off.
It feels like a slap in the face, but then it’s also totally fair. He didn’t know who I was—not really. In some ways he probably knew me better than anyone else in my life, but I doubt he would agree to that—especially now.
/>
My body trembles a little and I know Wolf feels it by the way his arm tightens on me. I get mad at myself. I shouldn’t give myself away so easily. The girl I was before…my father’s death seems to be hiding. I can’t find her.
I don’t know if I’ll ever find her again.
“It was nice of you to come to show your respects to my father,” I respond, but I direct my words to Diesel.
Devil makes a sound, close to a snort, his face not showing humor at all. I let it go. Diesel doesn’t respond. He just looks at me funny.
“We’ll talk back at the clubhouse. I’m going to take Torrent to the graveside,” Wolf says, giving my hand a squeeze.
Diesel responds to him, but for the life of me I couldn’t tell you one word of what he said. Then Wolf puts his arm at my back and turns me away from the other men.
I try not to feel shame because Devil will see me wearing the cut that Wolf had made for me. I can’t help but be self-conscious though. I didn’t specifically want to wear it. In the past three weeks since all of this happened, Wolf has been so attentive. He’s been worried about me and done his best to take care of me. I love him for that, but I definitely don’t love him. I’ve told him that. He keeps insisting that for my safety he needs to claim me, so that other clubs, and his own club—my dad’s own club—will see me as claimed and protected. I’m not blind to this world, so I can see his point on some levels, but I’ve told Wolf continuously that I’m not ready for a relationship.
Hell, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I think there’s something broken inside of me now. It’s so hugely broken that I’m not sure I’ll ever be whole again.
“Are you okay, Tor?” Wolf asks when we are a small distance away from Devil.
“I’m not sure I’m going to be okay this entire day, Wolf—or maybe ever again.”
“You’ll get through this, sweetheart. Dodger would be proud of how strong you are.”
“I don’t really feel strong.”
“How well do you know Devil?” he asks and I knew that question was coming. Dad knew I had seen Devil, but he took great pains in not telling Wolf. He always tried to protect me… and maybe Wolf. He truly believed I’d be happy with Wolf, that Wolf would make me happy. Maybe he was right. I don’t know. Having Wolf to lean on the last three weeks has helped me to at least function. I don’t want to lie to Wolf now… but I can’t make myself tell him the truth either.
“Not that well. Our paths crossed from time to time. Mostly in the park across from the convent or in the town when we would be volunteering. That’s why he thought I was a nun.”
“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense,” Wolf says and he seems to let it drop. I breathe a sigh of relief.
I let thoughts of Devil, our past, and how we met again, slide from my mind as my father’s grave comes into view. This is going to be hard enough without adding Devil into my thoughts. Besides… how I feel about him doesn’t matter anymore. That’s all behind me.
Nothing is the same anymore.
Nothing.
Devil
“You okay, man?” Diesel asks. I’ve lost track of exactly how many times he’s asked that shit. I down another drink of my beer in response. I could use something besides beer, but getting shit-faced here probably wouldn’t be the wisest move. Partly because I don’t entirely trust this club and I sure as hell won’t be able to watch Diesel’s back—or my own—and partly because if I get too drunk, I’ll probably go over to Torrent, drag her out of here and demand to know why she lied to me… or fuck her senseless… maybe both.
Neither one of those are an option. So instead, I’m sitting on the top of an old picnic table, my feet on the seat, drinking a beer that’s way too warm to drink, and staring over at the bonfire while Torrent talks with that fucker, Wolf and a few other men. There’s other women here, and I’ve had a few come on to me, but seeing Torrent again has caused my dick to go into hiding. It’s either seeing her again, or seeing her wear another man’s cut.
It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that I grieved over what I could never have with this woman… that I had to let her go because she would never belong in my world… and all the time…
“Earth to Devil,” Diesel says and I let out a loud sigh as I slam my beer down on the table. Diesel’s standing in front of me. The fucker is probably trying to block my view of Torrent, but it’s not working. I see her—even though I wish like fuck I didn’t.
“I’m fine. My damn beer is warm. How much longer we have to stay here?”
“You ready to leave?”
“Been fucking ready for hours,” I answer.
I’ve been ready since Torrent walked away from me at the cemetery.
“Don’t you want to try and talk to—”
“There’s no point. Nothing to be said really.” I shrug, cutting him off before he can say her name. I’m pretty fucking sure I’d be fine with never hearing her name mentioned again.
“You should talk to her. Find out what’s going on, what happened,” Diesel says, looking over his shoulder in Torrent’s direction.
“Don’t think your boy Wolf would agree with that assessment,” I smirk, wishing I could punch the fucker in the face. Then again, every damn time I see him hug Torrent, or whisper to her, I get that urge. He’d look much better with my fist imprinted on his damn face—with his nose bleeding.
“Fuck him.”
“That’s a different tune than you were singing,” I mention to Diesel—not really giving a fuck.
“Something about this whole club is rubbing me the wrong way. I’m not sure what, but it has my gut burning.”
I frown. When Diesel says that, he’s usually spot on about any situation. He’s saved our hide more than a few times with his sixth sense about things. I can’t say that I’m very fucking comfortable here either, but I thought my feelings about Torrent were clouding my judgment. Now, Diesel has me wondering.
“You think she’s in danger?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Danger? Nah, probably not. Trouble? I think that little girl might be in a whole heap of trouble though.”
“Wolf seems very protective over her,” I tell Diesel, my eyes going to the couple in question. I watch as he puts his hand on Torrent’s shoulder, his fingers tangling into her hair on her shoulder. I tighten my hand into a fist so fucking hard my arm goes numb, all in a hope to keep myself from going over there and choking the life out of the bastard.
I’ve never been jealous… right now I’m not sure what I’m feeling is jealousy. There’s a rage inside of me—the likes of which I’ve never felt before.
“He seems like he’s choking her to death to me.” Diesel shrugs.
“What?” I ask, my attention going to him immediately.
“He’s not letting her out of his sight. She gets more than a couple steps away and he pulls her back to him—literally. That’s not normal, man.”
“Maybe. Or maybe we’ve never been—”
“He’s controlling her. She couldn’t even reach for her own drink. He took over when she tried to reach out to the cooler.”
“Maybe he’s just being thoughtful. The Torrent I know wouldn’t let anyone control her.”
“The Torrent you know wasn’t kidnapped and beaten.”
His words are like a fucking knife… a punch of reality.
Until this moment, I had been so fucked up over seeing Torrent again—over seeing her wearing another man’s cut and finding out who she truly is to piece it all together.
Torrent was the daughter that was kidnapped. Torrent was in the clutches of a gang for weeks and lost her father.
“Beaten?” I ask Diesel, realizing that up until now I hadn’t asked for details about what had happened, mostly because I didn’t care.
“From what Wolf said she was fucked up bad. Besides, didn’t you notice the darkened area around her mouth? Bruises and puffiness that even makeup couldn’t completely hide after almost a month? Dude, that doesn’t scream go
od news to me,” Diesel says and my chest goes tight as I think over his words. Fuck, I never noticed the bruises. How is that possible? How could Diesel see it and I didn’t?
“There’s no way I can get her away from Wolf long enough to talk to her anyway.” I shrug, even while trying to figure out a way.
“There’s always a way. Wolf’s drinking pretty heavily. There will be an opening soon… I mean, if you want it,” Diesel says, but he’s looking at me and his face dares me to call him a liar. He knows me like the back of his hand.
“You going to help me keep the fucker distracted.”
“Oh yeah.”
“This might not end well,” I feel obliged to warn him.
“I figure it might not, but if that little girl over there is hurting as much as I think she is, ask me if I care.”
“What’s it to you?”
“How long we known each other, Devil?”
“Too fucking long,” I joke, my gaze drifting back to Torrent against my will.
“In all that time—you have never—and I mean never mentioned a girl to me. You’ve never even thought of claiming and settling down with one, and you have never—not once—been lost in your head for months over a chick. I figure I owe it to you to find out what’s going on. If she’s a bitch, then find out and move the fuck on.”
“And if she’s not?”
“Then you decide if she’s worth bringing the hammer down.”
“And if she is?”
“Then we prepare for hell, because God knows getting her away from that man won’t be easy.”
“I think it could be pretty easy. I could kill the motherfucker,” I mutter, liking the idea more and more.
“That girl is haunted, Devil. When you talk to her, look in her eyes, watch how she moves—put the anger aside and watch and listen. Whatever you do, buddy, you got to go gently where she’s involved—or she might not survive.”
I listen to Diesel’s words and they burn through me. Part of me was hoping Diesel was right and Torrent is being controlled by Wolf, that maybe there is a chance…