I was just up to the part where the hottie showed up at her sister’s wedding when there was a hammering at the door. My popcorn had a near miss with the couch as I scowled at the door over my shoulder and felt around in the flickering light of the television for the remote to mute it. The little screen in the corner told me it was almost midnight.
Pushing myself up, I tiptoed to the door and peeked through the blinds, my shoulders sagging with relief as I noted the uniform on the other side. It wasn’t half as scary when you knew half of the people in town, and this was someone everyone knew. Unlocking the three sets of deadbolts and pulling it open, I smiled at Chief Sutton. He wasn’t bad looking for his age, and I seemed to be the only one he didn’t feel the need to hold his gun when speaking to. Most people in town didn’t take offense on account that they were used to it.
“Evening, Chief.”
“Miss Hanagan. I’m sorry I’m disturbing you so late. The MC is out in full force this evening and I know you work late most nights. Sloane was worried about you and Tate. She asked me to check in on you.”
I shifted from one leg to the other, suddenly feeling a kernel of popcorn dislodge from my shirt and drop down into my bra. I had to fight the inclination to grab for it as I smiled at the chief, completely confused as to why he or Sloane would be worried.
“Oh, that’s a lovely thought, Chief, and I appreciate your concern, but Tate’s in bed, and I’m in for the night. To be honest, neither Tate nor I have interacted with the MC outside of serving them coffee at work. We stay out of their way and they do whatever it is they do.”
“Whatever it is they do is exactly what I’m worried about. The boys are having a celebration tonight. I have a couple of them in holding cells for trying to ride loaded and I’ve given warnings to the rest. They’re generally not too bad in town these days. They don’t like to crap where they eat, but tonight appears to be an exception.”
“Well, like I said, we’re both in for the night, but I appreciate your concern, sir. It was really kind of you to come by and check on us. Thank Sloane for me, too, won’t you?”
“I will. Lock up and have a good night, Miss Hanagan.”
“You too, Chief. Be safe out there.”
He turned away, his hand on his gun as he took off down the porch steps. The only signal that he’d heard me at all was a wave over his shoulder before he climbed into his cruiser. I waved him off, waiting for him to be out of sight before pulling the popcorn from my bra, throwing it in the grass and shutting the door behind me.
“You just had to date the chief of police’s daughter didn’t you?” I mumbled, heading back toward Tate’s room, half laughing and half shaking my head in frustration. I stopped outside his door and took a deep breath before pushing it out of my way and staring at the disaster zone.
“Hey, bright spark, your girl just got her dad to check on–”
The words got stuck in my throat as nothing but the mess met me. His bedside light was on, and the sea of clothes littering the ground cast deep shadows over the cheap rug that was curling at the edges. I could see a piece of paper on his pillow but I was dubious about entering, unsure of what lay beneath the material. If I hadn’t been so worried, I wouldn’t have gone in at all, but that paper taunted me from its place.
I turned to check the bathroom, but the door was open and the light was off. The little shit had climbed out of the window. As I turned to look, it only confirmed what I already knew. It was wedged open an inch so he could let himself back in. He’d left the house, but for what?
“You’re so fucking grounded,” I mumbled, kicking the football jersey to the side before venturing toward the bed, cautiously. I almost twisted my ankle on the empty bourbon bottle by the side of it, my breath hissing out of me as my concern grew. He wasn’t a drinker and it had been half full, which meant he’d been loaded when he left. I was just grateful he only had his learner’s permit, or I’d probably end up bailing him out of jail, or worse, the hospital.
Planting my ass on his bed after inspecting it for God knew what, I pushed the note under the light and started to read.
Ayda
I know you said you’ve got this under control, but I can’t let you keep doing this. I’m going to make this better. I’m the man of the house and it’s time I started acting like it. If you find this, please don’t worry. I will be back soon.
Love you
T.
Man of the house? Where the hell had he even heard that before? I’d made sure he hadn’t had some misplaced misogynistic view of the world after our parents died.
Locking his window so he had no choice but to come to the front door, I hopped and skipped over the shit on his floor, before heading back to the living room and settling myself on the couch with a blanket to watch the television on quiet.
Dread was circling my heart like a vulture, my blood chilled as my eyes locked on the door and stayed there. Even if I did fall asleep, it would be the first thing I would see when I opened them. The chain would be more than enough to disturb me.
Time dragged. Every minute felt like ten, and every hour like four. I eventually went for a bath in an attempt to calm myself down, keeping the door sitting wide open so I could hear my kid brother’s endeavor to get into the house.
It was only when I woke with a start that I realized I’d been dozing. The flash of light that lit up the room as someone turned into our drive sent me to my feet. My body propelled toward the door with more impetus than I intended when I tripped over the blanket that was twisted around my legs. It was only when I fumbled with the lock that perturbation gripped me and I froze, my forehead slamming against the door.
What if it wasn’t Tate at all? What if it was Sutton coming to tell me that there had been an accident? What if it was our social worker coming to tell me what a shitty job I was doing and that my baby brother was going to stay in their custody? Just… What if?
Even with those thoughts, I had to know. I had to face what was on the other side of the door and deal with it. But first, I had to find my breath. Placing my hand on the cold steel, I gulped in as much oxygen as I could manage, my jaw tightening to stop the quivering of my bottom lip. I had to get a grip and pull myself together.
“Come on, Ayda. Stop putting off the inevitable.”
It was after the next breath that I did just that and pulled the last barriers between me and the truth out of the way, blinking into the bright beam of headlights, forcing my forearm to rise and cover my eyes.
“Tate?” I asked, stepping forward onto our small porch, the screen door slapping closed behind me.
“I’m sorry, sis.”
The relief from hearing his voice made my shoulders sag, but it lasted only a second as I heard a voice that didn’t belong to him demanding his silence. It was about that time I realized I was half naked and barefoot. I backed toward the door, torn between running to my kid brother and retreating to the safety of my home. It was fight or flight. Having my vision taken by the blinding high beams did nothing to ease the consternation of the situation, but the maternal instinct that rose inside of me demanded I move toward the problem.
“What’s going on, T?”
I stumbled to the side, my arm coming up to meet the other as I attempted to escape the light pointed directly at me. Stubbing my toe on a pebble as I tripped from the porch, I cursed, pulling my foot up to my waist, only aware of how little I was wearing when I heard a shuffle.
The moment I was out of the beams, the scene unfolded from the tangle of dots that the residue of the lights had caused. Tate hadn’t come to me for a reason. Stood with him was a guy, one hand closed around the top of his arm with almost brutal force. The shadows were so deep around him, I couldn’t see much more than the fact he was tall and really fucking broad. He made Tate look small.
“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck are you doing with my brother?”
As he drew closer, his face came into focus more, the dots disappearing with every bl
ink I took until I saw the narrowing of his eyes and the anger creased across his face. “Returning him to where he belongs, sweetheart. I think you misplaced him. I don’t take in strays. Especially ones who are trying to steal my fucking money.”
His voice was deep, gravelly and full of danger. Any other time, I’m pretty sure I would have backed down and walked away, but I couldn’t do either. He had his hands on my fifteen-year-old brother, and that maternal instinct that had been so strong hours earlier was now raging inside of me, clawing to get control and march over there.
As we circled slowly, I found myself delved into the shadows, which forced Tate, and the man with him, into the illumination of the headlights. There was no denying he was gorgeous in some rough and rugged way. The swelling on his face screamed trouble, even if his eyes were narrowed enough to give them the appearance of being closed. The leather vest he wore gave away his identity. He was part of the MC, and from the scowl he was now wearing, he was pissed.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded, my hands gripping the thin material on my waist, my discomfort shifting me from one leg to another. I knew I sounded less than intelligent, but the longer we stood there staring at one another, the angrier I became. This was my problem. Not his. “Just let him go. He’s a kid. I’m pretty sure you’re capable of having a conversation without manhandling someone. He’s home now. He’s not going anywhere.”
It was hard to miss the way the guy’s lips twitched to one side before he pushed the top of Tate’s back even harder, forcing his body to stumble forward and for my brother to lose his balance in front of the two of us. And it was obvious he found this whole thing amusing, even though his face was set like stone and his murderous eyes were aimed directly at me. “Manhandling him? This isn't manhandling him, blondie. Do you have any idea what I would normally do to someone I found crawling under my bed like a fucking rat?” The stranger took a step closer, his chin lowering further to his chest as his voice dropped to a growl and all the humor fell from his face. “You’re lucky he’s able to feel his legs, let alone use them.”
My eyes flickered between the man and Tate. None of this made sense to me at all. What the hell would Tate have been doing under this guy’s bed?
There was no denying the threat this man issued was anything but an empty one. The leather, the tattoos and the scars told me he wasn’t someone I wanted to piss off, yet, it didn’t stop me from running my mouth. After the day I’d had, I was sick to death of dealing with bullies, and I’d had enough of the bad luck that continued to plague us. The shit was no longer going to hit our fan. I was going to keep the thing polished and out of sight.
“Tate, explain so we can say goodbye to this…” I looked him up and down, the pool of words dwindling with each one that filtered through my mind. In the end I stayed polite. “Gentleman.”
Tate’s eyes widened, and for a moment, pride swelled in my chest as he looked between the stranger and me, seemingly unsure who was more pissed off with him. I would have hazarded a guess it was me, but the respect that flashed in his eyes as he turned to the guy next to him made me mad enough to spit.
“Listen, man, please, just let me explain.”
“What? I don’t exist now?” I asked, my hip dropping to the side. “Tate Michael Hanagan, just you remember who the adult is here, and I would be very fucking careful how you respond to that.”
The laughter from Mr. YMCA had me turning on him. “Oh, you think this is funny?”
He closed his eyes while he took his time to scratch his damn eyebrow, acting like there was no rush to answer mine or anybody else’s questions. When his eyes opened again and his arm dropped down by his side, I felt his gaze fall to the tips of my toes before it crawled slowly up my legs, over my chest, eventually landing back on my face. “And what if I do?”
Of all the arrogant, ignorant, and… Sucking in a calming breath and stopping the moment I felt his eyes on my breasts through my thin shirt, I let my eyes meet his.
“Look, I realize that this little asshole, who, for the record, is drunk off his ass, broke into your treehouse and perved your porno mags. Believe me, he will be punished for that. But could you please explain the part where you said he tried to steal money?”
I looked between him and Tate again. Tate looked like a dog with his tail between his legs, and as much as the cooling anger demanded that I go and give him a hug, I resisted, folding my arms over my chest and reinforcing my glare. The sooner I got rid of this asshole, the better.
“Ayda–”
“Don’t you dare, Tate. I don’t want to hear anything from you yet.”
The biker boy’s hand flew out to the side, but he never once broke his stare as his blue green eyes burned into mine, studying me like I was some kind of science project. Before I even realized what was happening, he clicked his fingers at my brother then pointed to the ground in front of him, effectively calling him over like he would call a dog to heel at his feet. “I think I'll leave him to do story time. My patience is wearing thin with all this shit already and I’m not here to explain the actions of your piss ant brother… doll. You should be thanking me that he’s still alive. That’s all I can say. The rest…” He paused to smirk, giving my chest one last flicker of interest before he straightened his spine and towered over me. “Well, I’ll leave it up to Tate Michael Hanagan to fill you in.”
“Oh, thank you. How very generous of you.” I stumbled closer, cursing the damnable pebbles on my front drive. They were sharp and bit into the soles of my feet as I got closer, the chill of the evening air making my arms cross tighter over my chest, hiding the effects of the bitterness on my body. The last thing I needed was this jackass thinking he was turning me on.
Mirroring the guy’s grip on Tate, I grabbed his arm and tugged him toward me. What I was thinking, I wasn’t sure. It had the same effect as if I’d tried to lift my car one-handed. The kid was all muscle and to me, might as well have been immovable.
“In the house, Tate.”
Tate’s eyes widened, but rather than doing as he was told, he shook his head, his eyes moving to Mr. Motorcycle Man and deferring to the ground. “Not leaving you.”
“I’m old enough to look after myself…” My words trailed off as I watched the guy laugh, shake his head and begin to wander away. The laugh wasn’t entirely filled with humor. I was pretty certain there was disgust, too. I was stunned by the arrogance of the man. He wore club colors and thought he ruled the damn world.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Ayda!” Tate whispered.
“Shut up, Tate. Hey, we’re not finished here, dude.”
“Yeah, we are, sweetheart.” He snorted with derision, his hands digging keys from his pocket, his body listing to the side as he came up with nothing.
“Do not walk away from me!”
He froze, mid-step, lifting his head before glancing over his shoulder at me. The look of death he flashed had me swallowing with difficulty. At this angle, I could see him much more clearly and the dark stubble was made even darker by the bruise that marred his skin. How the hell had I missed that?
“You have no idea who I am, do you?”
Before I could respond with some smart assed comment, Tate leaned in close, his eyes catching mine with a silent warning. “That’s Drew Tucker, Ayda. Shut the fuck up.”
The buzzing in my ears was immediate. That name. I grew up with it. I heard it whispered by the girls in school, the barely-dressed women these men called the Hound Whores. It was a name spoken with reverence, awe, but most of all, it was a name that carried with it fear.
What the fuck had I just done?
CHAPTER SIX
Drew
I could sense Harry’s silent judgment pouring out of him as we drove back to the hut in silence. I didn’t need for that fucker to say shit to me to know that he was doing what he usually did for all of us. He was worrying again.
In terms of long days, this one felt
never-ending. As I let my body sink further into the passenger seat and widened my legs further apart, I dropped my head back against the leather and groaned quietly. I don’t know what purpose it was meant to serve, other than to fill this weird awkwardness with some noise and to try and stop me from saying something to Harry that I would regret. It was obvious what he was thinking. A part of me was thinking it, too.
Before too long, I threw my hands up to cover my face and ran them up and down my cheeks in frustration. The haze of the alcohol was starting to wear off and the thickness of my head was multiplying by seventeen thousand units.
“Get it over with,” I groaned against the palms of my hands.
“Got nothing to say,” he answered flatly, the way he said it letting me know that actually, he had about a million things to say but just couldn’t find the energy or the balls to crack the hell on with it.
“Sure you don’t,” I sighed, dropping my hands down onto my thighs with a slap. “Sure you don’t.”
“You need to sleep.”
My eyes remained closed as I huffed out a small laugh and let the back of my neck roll on the headrest. “No shit.”
“Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“They’re all big days for me from now on. I get it. There’s no respite for the freed man.”
“Is that what you want, Drew? A break?” he asked quietly, as though he’d been waiting to ask that exact question since the second he saw me outside the prison gates. “Five years not enough for you?”
That’s all it took for my eyes to snap open and my jaw to tense again. I stared up at the roof of the car with such an immediate sense of intensity, it was a wonder I didn’t burn two big, fat fucking holes through the fabric and the metal. “Not tonight, Harry. I’m not doing this now. Not after what’s just happened. So save your shit for another day.”
Without Consequence Page 5