by Shyla Colt
Pan nodded his head, tamping down the tiny bit of disappointment that rose up in response.
Clearly, lack of sleep had short-circuited his brain. He eased out of her and studied her face. “Are you okay?”
“So much more than that,” she purred.
He laughed. “Now that I got you dirty, let’s clean you back up, except here.” He patted her pussy. “I like the thought of me being inside you.”
“Hartley,” she drawled.
“Little bird, if you’re trying to dissuade me, saying my name is the last thing you should do.”
She smirked and her eyes sparkled with knowledge. “Maybe I like having power over you.”
All of a sudden, her face crumbled.
He knew the reality had just sucker punched her.
“Oh, my God, Robin is—gone.” Her voice cracked.
The pure torment in her words took him back in time to the loss of his parents. He knew this hurt. Curbing the need to put distance between him, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body to his. The connection they had was one he wanted to expand on. He was man enough to admit it to himself. He reached around her, grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it in his hands. Washing her with care, he allowed her to purge herself of tears and pain. There were no words he could say to ease the ache. But he could be present and make sure she wasn’t alone.
He relearned her curves as he cleaned her body, removed her from the bath and dried her off.
Poor little bird has a wounded wing.
An emotionless robot, she brushed her teeth, dressed and began to make funeral
arrangements.
Pan left her alone in his room and went to call Demon.
“Good to see you’re alive, Pan.”
“Yeah, it was a late night at the hospital. There were no questions, given her history. They declared it an accidental death via overdose. Lark is making the arrangements for her funeral now.”
“So, what do you plan on doing with your stowaway?”
“Honestly, I’m thinking of keeping her for a bit. Seeing how this thing plays out.”
“Damn, never thought I’d see the day old Pan found his Wendy.”
“Aww, come on man, don’t raze me.”
“Part of my duty, brother. You think she’s trustworthy? You know we got secrets to keep.”
“After what I saw her do for her sister. One-hundred-percent sure.”
“I’ll caution you, this life ain't for everyone. Make sure you find out if she can handle it. I don’t like fixing leaks,” Demon drawled.
“I hear you loud and clear P,” Pan replied. Their life required a certain level of dedication.
Not everyone was up for the commitment.
“Good. Once her shit is settled, I want to meet her.”
“I’ll bring her around later today. Where are you?”
“Got some business to take care of, so I’ll be at the club all day.”
“Alright. Later, Demon.”
“Later, brother.”
Their vacation from real life was over. He worried about what it meant for them as they attempted to merge their everyday existence. There was a lot he didn’t know about her.
Chapter Six
It’s done. Robin’s body took its final ride to the funeral home. Lark had decided to cremate her. Robin always despised the thought of rotting away in a pine box. The flowers would be a mix of roses and lilies and their pastor from years ago would speak. An hour of sobbing and typing on Pan’s laptop had produced a letter she would have printed off to use as an obituary she had set to go in the paper tomorrow with the funeral information. Neither of them had many friends and most of their family was estranged or gone to the great hereafter.
Spent, she wiped away the fresh tears and took a deep breath. She pushed the chair away from the desk and stood. Vertigo stuck and she swayed before she regained her balance. I need to get my shit together. Now, isn’t the time to fall to pieces. She took the pep talk to heart as she marched into the small guest room and office combination.
Pan glanced up from his spot on the couch in the living room. “You all squared away?”
“Yes, it’s all set for Thursday at six o’clock. There will be no viewing. I’m having her cremated.”
“Okay, we need to pick up your car and then head over to the clubhouse. My president
wants to meet you.”
“President?” She arched an eyebrow.
“The club President of the Dueling Devils, aka…The man in charge of everything.”
“I understand. Am I in some sort of trouble?”
“No, but he did stick his neck out for you, as a favor to me. He’s wondering why.”
She frowned. “I don’t follow you.”
“I’m not going to lie to you little bird. I’ve never been a one-woman man. The way I am with you is unusual for me. You’re different. This thing between us has me altering my behavioral patterns. You get me?”
“Is this your gentle way of letting me know you were a manwhore?”
“More than that. Let’s call me a commitment phob. I never cared enough to want to stick around, or get too serious.”
“And I changed that how?” She glared. “I won’t be anyone’s charity case.”
A sneer twisted his lips and anger turned his eyes a stormy blue. “You were in the room last night and the shower this morning. You think what I feel for you is charitable?”
“I don’t know what to think about anything right now.”
His face softened. “I get that. I’m not trying to lay everything on you, but there’s shit you need to know. When I claimed you, it was a serious thing. It’s not something we take lightly and now, that shit is starting to settle, I don’t want to let you go.”
His words penetrated her haze of grief. Her tongue just tied itself up tighter than a knot.
“I’m not expecting you to make a decision about that now. But you do need to decide what you want.”
“Y-you would let me go?” She could never be sure if she as a prisoner or a willing captive.
The line blurred days ago and she’d been too rocked by life to slow down and examine it closely.
“Fuck no babe. I don’t give up easily. But I’d never force you to stay here. I’m more into the art of persuasion.”
Her skin heated as she thought of how he made her beg the night before. “Yeah, I can see that,” she mumbled. “So I can go home when I want?”
“After a time. I’m still concerned about Manuel. Matter of fact, after we see, Demon, we need to hit up your place for more clothes. You got a job you need to report to?”
“I took a few weeks off.”
“Perfect. Where do you work?”
“I work at the Naughty Emporium.”
He frowned. “What the hell is that?”
“A lingerie store.”
A wolfish grin lined his lips. “Fuck, you’re a diamond in the rough.”
She laughed, despite her sadness. If there was one thing, he as good at, it was making her laugh. “What about my car?”
“I had a prospect pick it up. It’s in the driveway.”
“Prospect?”
“Think of them as Dueling Devils on a trial membership for a probationary period. If they pass, they get voted in as full-fledged members after a time. If they don’t, we let them go.”
“Ah, so you mean your bitches.”
Pan threw back his head and laughed.
This carefree man might just be contagious. That made him dangerous. Her stomach ached.
If she weren't careful, her addiction to him could lead her to downfall. It seemed to be the family mode of operation.
“I don’t like cages, but we’ll take yours since we’ll be gathering enough things for you to stay here for a month.”
“You think Manuel would come after me?”
“There was something too easy about that whole exchange. If I let it go and something
happened…” He sh
ook his head. “…This is the best way to go.”
Part of her wanted to rebel. She’d never been a kept woman. The larger part of her needed him to keep her sane and distracted.
The car ride was short and all too soon, Pan was pulling up to the gated area. Her heart hammered as the Prospect pulled the gate open and they drove inside. This world was a lot to take in. Prospects, Members, a president named Demon. She wasn’t sure she fit in here. Danger clung to them. She knew enough about Motorcycle Clubs to understand that. Pan’s ease in maneuvering around the cartel told her he was used to dealing with powerful men who did unspeakable things. It should’ve warned her off him, but it didn’t and that scared her.
Pan parked and turned to her. “Were a hell of a lot more lax than the Hell’s Minions. Don’t’
be disrespectful and you’ll be fine. No one is going to bother you and you don’t have to keep your eyes on the ground because some crazy ass fucker might take it as some kind of challenge or interest.”
A weight lifted from her shoulders. “Thank God!”
He laughed. “I’m all about fun. You know I could never belong to a club like them.”
“If what I’ve been seeing is the real you,” she mused.
“Trust me little bird, you see more than most.”
She chewed on his words as they exited the car and walked up to the clubhouse. The door opened and they stepped inside a smoke scented, dimly lit building full of people and loud rock music. She moved closer to Pan as she took in the large men ranging in age. Vests adorned their backs boasting the Dueling Devils and each looked at them with a different level of interest.
Pan steered them through the bodies to a hallway. They paused at the end and he knocked.
“Yeah,” a voice boomed.
“It’s me Demon.”
“Come on in.”
He opened the door and she followed close behind him.
A lean man with an angular face, a shock of black hair and a stern mouth pushed back from the desk and placed his feet on the counter. “Who might this be?”
“This is Lark Rosario. Lark, this is my President, Demon.”
“Hi,” she said, smoothing her hands down her jeans.
“Have a seat.” Demon nodded toward the chairs.
She sank down into one and clutched the arms.
“Tell your girlfriend I’m not about to spray her brains all over the wall, she can relax.”
She gulped.
“Yeah, that made her more comfortable,” Pan mumbled. “Lark, I told you. We’re not Hell’s minions.”
She nodded her head. Her interaction with bikers had been all negative…Sans Pan.
“I want to look you in the eye when I ask you three questions. I want you answer each one honestly. If you lie, I’m going to know and we’ll have a problem. Trust me when I say…you don’t want that,” Demon instructed. “Can you keep your mouth shut?”
“Yes.” She nodded her head.
“Good. Is there anything about your past I need to know?”
She paused, searching her memory. “I’m not the one with the checkered past.” Her heart
dropped and she bowed her head. “It was my sister, Robin.”
“One last thing. You plan on being loyal to my boy here? He’s putting a lot on the line for you. You going to hold him down?”
It was a legit question. “Yes.” The answer was flying out of her mouth before she could think about it. The man had earned himself a place on her tiny list of people she’d go to bat for.
She turned to him and found the shock she felt—mirrored in his blue eyes.
“Alright then. You got my blessing, Pan. You know the rules. Make sure she knows them
too, and we’re square. You know I like my ship to sail smoothly and I don’t like leaks or taking on water.”
“Yeah, I know.” Pan nodded.
“Glad we could have this talk. I expect your ass back in the shop, bright and early on
Monday morning.”
“I’ll be there.” Pan stood.
Lark did the same. “Wait—that’s it?”
Demon laughed. “What? You expected a torture session?”
“No, I—I don’t know what I thought,” she admitted.
“I like her, she’s honest,” Demon stated.
“Yeah, me too,” Pan replied.
His words resonated in her soul. He cared. This was about more than sex for him too.
Whether they liked it or not, they were in over their heads and sinking deeper by the second.
The knock made Pan frown. I’m not expecting anyone. He glanced down at the woman who’d just fallen asleep and quickly slipped from the bed. The funeral had done a real number on her. She’d spent the past week, sleeping off and on when she wasn’t crying, or silently going through memories in her head. He grabbed his gun from the nightstand, strode across the room and closed the door to the room quietly.
As he walked down the hall, the knock came again. He picked up the pace and turned off his safety. He peered out the peephole and rolled his eyes. Monster. He opened the door and scowled. “What the hell are you doing, just showing up? I almost shot your ass.”
“You’ve been M.I.A. I was worried.”
“Didn’t Demon tell you I was off, taking care of some business?”
“Maybe I wanted to see for myself.”
“I’m not your responsibility, Monster. I’m a grown ass adult.”
“I know that,” Monster snapped.
“Really? Because it seemed like you’ve forgotten over the past few months.”
“If you weren’t acting like a child. Maybe I wouldn’t have to.”
“Listen new Daddy, you can take you parental emo shit and give it all to Tate.”
“Don’t bring him into this.”
“Why not? When Symone and Tate showed up, you changed.”
“No. I started to live.”
“Bullshit. Ragging on me is not living.”
“Not wanting you to drink yourself to death has nothing to do with how our lives differ.”
“Really? Then why is what I do suddenly not okay? You never had a problem with it before when you were right beside me.”
“It got worse, we both know that.”
“So, I went off on a bender or two and got a little wild. I just lost my partner in crime.”
“Every damn night. I don’t even know how you manage to come into work most days. This
is the healthiest I’ve seen you look and I’m sure that has everything to do with you being away on a mission for Demon.”
“Fuck, when did you become so judgmental?” Pan spat.
“I’m concerned, you stupid son of a bitch. There’s a difference.”
“Oh now, I’m stupid? I guess I’m not good enough anymore. Or maybe you’re just sick of
looking at me, now that you know the fire was my fault. Is this how you plan on getting back at me? Tearing me down and making me feel as if I’m less than nothing?
“Is that how you feel?” Monster looked hurt.
“You start in on me and you don’t stop. God, it’s like being back with Dad all over again.”
Pan raked a hand through his hair.
“Hartley, you have to know that’s not my intent. I just don’t want you to end up like Dad.
Your drinking has never been this out of control. If I don’t say anything and you keep on the path, you’re traveling what then, huh?”
His words were salt in Pan’s open wounds. There was truth there, but he wouldn’t admit it.
“Funny I’ve been doing just fine. Great actually, until you showed up.”
“What, now you don’t want to see me?”
“I want you to just be my brother.”
“I am, you stupid fuck!” Monster roared.
“Hartley?” A voice cried.
“Fuck, look at what you did,” Pan hissed.
“Who is that?” Monster asked.
He wanted to be juvenile and
tell him none of your business. “That’s Lark, someone I met during my run for Demon.”
“And she’s here with you, why?” Monster asked.
“Pan?”
He turned and found Lark at the end of the hall. His shirt hung around her knees.
She looked from him to Monster and back. “Am I dreaming? Is this some David Lynch style musing?”
Monster snickered and Pan followed. “No babe, this is my twin brother, Monster.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “I—I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Are you okay?” Pan asked.
“Yeah, just a—bad dream. I’ll let you get back to it.” She turned and walked back to the room.
“What the fuck was that?”
Pan turned back to him. “You think you’re the only one allowed to find happiness?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve never seen you like that with a female.
“You didn’t have to,” Pan said.
“Nothing I do or say is okay with you. I’m not the one with the problem…you are. I told you I didn’t’ hold anything against you. You need to hash that shit out with yourself.”
He opened his mouth to deliver a sharp come back and stopped. How could he sit here and bicker with his blood when she’d lost hers. “I hear you Hayes. I’m working on it, okay? My life’s been flipped upside down. It’s always been you and me and now it’s not. I held that secret in a long damn time. It’s an ugly puss-filled gash in my soul I need to air out. You have to let me do that. You found your happiness and I don’t fault you for that. But I need to learn to feel worthy of my own joy.”
“Hartley. That’s not you talking. That’s our old man. He was a mean fuck toward the end who put a lot of shit in our heads. If what I saw is correct. You might be sitting on your own gold mine, don’t fuck that up. I came by to see you were okay and I see that now. I’m going back home and I’ll see you Monday?”
“Yeah,” Pan muttered. He walked him out, turning his brother’s words over in his mind. The thought of being anything like his father frightened him.
Could I do to Lark, what he did to Mom?
His stomach soured. A headache threatened. He rubbed his temples. The thought of fucking up what could potentially be the best thing he’d ever stumbled upon. The burden rested heavily on his shoulders. He locked the door behind Monster and walked into the kitchen to deal the best way he knew how. Opening the fridge, he pulled out the familiar brown bottle and popped the top. The liquid ran down his throat. He closed his eyes and savored the flavor. Before he knew it, one turned to three and he was buzzing. This was the first time he’d gone to beer for escape in almost a month. Humiliation stung his pride. He was more like his father than he cared to admit.