Bruiser's Caress (Warpath MC Book 2)

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Bruiser's Caress (Warpath MC Book 2) Page 2

by Raven Scott


  Parker and I pulled up against the side of the little store. Well, it was more a large booth than a small store. The only door was in the back, and the front had a drawer under bulletproof glass. Chips, cigarettes, water, and other odds and ends crowded inside the booth, but the dude sitting inside had just enough space for a small laptop.

  Not that there was internet out here; he probably had to download shit before heading to work. I pulled out my wallet and asked for a pack of cigarettes and matches. Parker sidled up next to me to browse the snacks.

  “I said no, Tom, and that’s final!” Pulling off my helmet, I glanced behind me as the sharp hiss drew my attention. The woman was pissed, red tinging her sour expression as she and a man argued at the car nearest to us. “This is my sister’s wedding, and you’re not ruining it, do you understand? I’ll break up with you if you dare try anything to take the spotlight off her.”

  “You bought a thousand-dollar dress for this, Nicole. I just want you to get your money’s worth. The hair and makeup, the dress and jewelry . . . you’re only gonna wear all this stuff once. I don’t see your problem.” That was the wrong thing to say. The woman, Nicole, was dumbfounded by the response, and her cheeks puffed out from how hard she frowned. “If you didn’t go snooping.”

  “Oh, shut up, Tom.” The snipe cut the air like a knife, and she threw up her hands in exasperation. A glint of metal caught my attention briefly, and I slapped a twenty-dollar bill into the little drawer to pull out my smokes and matches. Shuffling to the side, I watched the scene draw on and tried to be discreet about it. “I didn’t snoop. Who hides an engagement ring box in their car’s center console? That’s not the point, either. Just because it’s convenient doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. I’ve told you, I’m not ready to get married.”

  “Who says we have to get married right away? My parents were engaged for six years before they got married.” She shot him a wild look, and I couldn’t help but snicker a little too loud. Vivid, green eyes met mine to widen, and she turned a brilliant shade of red before shooting who I now assumed was her boyfriend a scalding glare.

  “Go back to the car.” Grinding out the demand, Nicole didn’t back down as Tom held up his hands in surrender, but a cocky smirk stretched his lips. Like he thought her getting mad was cute. He shuffled off, and she huffed disgruntledly before remembering I was staring at her. “What are you looking at?”

  “Trying to figure out why’d you even bring him.” Pulling a cigarette to my lips, I struck the match as Nicole’s expression flickered with disdain. She didn’t answer, rocking back on her heels to cross her arms under her bust. Who was I to talk? I’d never been to a wedding.

  “Didn’t you have a call to make, Bruiser?” Oh, right. I held my toxic lungful and my cigarette between my lips to fish into my pocket, turning to saunter back to my bike. Parker’s shit-eating smirk rolled up my back, and I sat my helmet on my saddle as I navigated to Spyder’s contact. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck bristled under Nicole’s intent gaze, but it didn’t last long.

  Which was a shame, ‘cause she was pretty hot. Feisty. And those eyes . . .

  “What? Did you run into trouble or something?” Taking my cigarette from my mouth as Spyder’s gruff tone drew my attention, I leaned against the side of the shack to exhale heavily.

  “No. My uncle said he had something to ask of us, but he didn’t say what. Just kinda grumbled about his son and hung up before I could say no. I wanted to give you a heads up.” Alright, so I might’ve lied a bit about my uncle doing any sort of asking, but it would’ve been better if I added that in there. Despite hating each other, Spyder and my uncle had a co-dependent relationship of sorts, and he grunted lowly over the line. “He never asks for anything, but I got a feeling we’re not gonna like this.”

  “Okay. Let him know I’ll make a decision when he starts talkin’. Call me back when you know more.” Spyder and I hung up on that agreement, and I turned to scan the line of cars. There had to be at least twenty of them. It was for a wedding, but damn, was this inopportune timing. Taking a deep drag of my cigarette, I drummed my fingertips against the case of my phone absently.

  “This is a huge shitshow, ain’t it?”

  Chapter Three

  Bruiser

  The woods were dark, quiet, bitterly cold, and I pulled up on a clearing in the middle of fucking nowhere. My uncle was already here, truck headlights flooding the grove, and I pushed up my vizor. Illuminated ominously, Uncle Minter sauntered over to me as I kicked down my stand and climbed off my bike. We shook hands, and a knot of nostalgia clogged my throat when we broke palms.

  “It’s good to see you, Bruiser. You look good.” Smiling tightly, I only nodded before my uncle gestured me to follow him. Glancing over my shoulder, I was kinda surprised Parker stayed on his bike and kept his mouth shut. I could tell by the set of his shoulders that my uncle intimidated Parker. It was quite a way to make an entrance, for sure, but Minter kept himself in the shadows and his ‘guests’ in the light for a reason.

  “Who’s the kid?” Rounding the passenger side of his truck, my uncle turned to me to frown. “Where’s that asshole you like so much?”

  “He couldn’t make it. He’s handling some shit with another group in Vegas,” I answered vaguely, not exactly wanting to let my uncle know of the turmoil that was slowly simmering. He cast me a curious look, and I shrugged lightly. “It’s not a big deal yet. You know Spyder doesn’t do well with others.”

  “I heard he killed a man.” The hairs on the back of my neck bristled at that, and I clenched my jaw hard as Uncle Minter’s eyes narrowed on me. “So, he did kill someone.”

  “Not the first time.” Snorting roughly, my uncle swung his head back and forth, and I frowned darkly. “What’d you hear?”

  “I heard he killed a man. Some sicko who was stalkin’ his ol’ lady. That’s it. I was hopin’ he’d show up, so I could decide if it earned him some respect.” Grunting lowly, I didn’t have anything to say to that. My uncle’s response was pretty much what I expected. Uncle Minster pulled down the tailgate of his truck, grabbed a couple of bags, and the pills inside rattled slightly. He paused, casting me a look through the gloom as distaste deepened the shadows under his eyes. “Rook fucked up and needs to go, Bruiser. He won’t tell me what he did. I can’t jeopardize everything because he’s a blank piece on the board.”

  “Did you name him that specifically to make chess references? You don’t even play chess, Uncle Minter.” But my joke fell flat, and I inhaled deeply in preparation before gesturing my uncle to go on. “What do you propose?”

  “You take my son, and I’ll take one of yours? Show him the ropes.” A sharp bark of surprise burst from my throat, but my uncle didn’t flinch. Throwing his thumb over his shoulder, he leaned against the trap with a grunt. “What about that one?”

  “Fuck no, not that one. I can’t make that decision, Uncle Minter. I gotta call Spyder. You gotta give him more than that.” I hated how that sounded, but this was business, and my uncle jerked his head in a nod. Patting his bicep roughly, I walked back around the car to pull my cell phone out of my jeans’ pocket. Spyder answered immediately, his silence expectant as I rubbed my mouth with my palm. “So, Minter wants to negotiate a trade. His son, Rook, for something or someone. What do you want me to do?”

  “Whoa. Hold up. I thought you said he was askin’ us to do shit for him. What the fuck is goin’ on here, Bruiser?” Spyder’s tone told me he was anything but happy with me, so what if I told a little white lie. I was only trying to make shit easier between the group of us.

  “I might’ve fluffed up shit a bit, but things are going sour up here,” I kept my voice low, so my uncle didn’t hear me.

  “It’s that bad, huh? Did he tell you what happened?” He sounded tired, but the time zone hadn’t changed, and I sniffed as I glanced back at my uncle.

  “Something bad if he’s sending Rook to the States. Won’t tell me what. I have a feeling it’s n
ot anything in the grand scheme of things, but . . .” I trailed off, unsure of what was going on. I knew my uncle, and he wouldn’t abandon his own son unless it were serious. “What’re you thinkin’?”

  “How long?” Rocking back on my heels, I shot my uncle a questioning look, and Minter gestured broadly. I licked my lips heavily, a gnarly ache attacking the backs of my eyes.

  “He doesn’t know, but not a short stint. Even if you don’t wanna take him officially, I will on my own. Rook’s not a terrible kid. Whatever he got into probably wouldn’t follow him to the States,” Spyder grunted lowly at my admission, and a knot formed in my chest as I rolled my shoulders free of the anxiety that slithered between them. “Even though he said Rook didn’t tell him, I’m sure my uncle knows why, and that’s why he’s asking us.”

  “Yeah, there’s no way that bastard doesn’t know. Okay, I’ll take the kid on if your uncle gives me a free load or four. I’ll leave the negotiating up to you, Bruiser, but make sure you get us a damn good deal.” Nodding as Spyder and I hung up, I turned to my uncle to relay the message. My proposal seemed exactly what Minter was expecting, and he dug out a piece of paper from his pocket. Walking past me to bang on the door of his truck, he slapped the slip of paper into my palm wordlessly.

  “Let’s go, kid.” A bit of sadness threaded Uncle Minter’s tone, and I frowned darkly as I glanced down at the paper. Surprise rose my brows, my uncle’s chicken-scratch barely legible in the darkness.

  Free ship / 6 mo

  “The fuck?” Muttering to myself, I fished out my matches to strike one and incinerate the scrap of paper. The drugs we bought from my uncle weren’t a large part of his business, but free wasn’t in Minter’s vocabulary. Rook must be in some serious shit.

  Inhaling the cold air, I shook my head viciously as Rook slid out of the car. He was young, nineteen or twenty, maybe, and he looked it. His shaggy hair framed a softer face, and he seemed slight compared to my uncle. Dull, brown eyes shimmered, red-rimmed even in the dark, and his cheeks sunk in as Uncle Minter held them in both his palms.

  I looked away, not wanting to intrude on what was very obviously a tough decision for both of them. I wasn’t close to Rook; he was over a decade younger than me, but we were raised by the same man. Walking to the back of the truck, I grabbed two expertly packaged bricks and took them the long way around back to my bike.

  “What’d he want?” Parker’s question shocked me. The asshole was so quiet I almost forgot he was there. Handing him a brick as I manhandled mine, I shook my head mutely. “We’re bringin’ the kid back?”

  “Yeah. Got a great deal. Not sure if that’s a good thing, though.” I ignored Parker’s intent eyes on me as I walked back to the truck, and Rook was gathering up two bricks of his own. Despite the cold, he wore a cut-off shirt that showed his muscles. The dude must go to the gym a few times a week at least. “I remember when you were this tall, kid.”

  Rook didn’t even look at me, hauling his armful around the truck with a grunt, and I watched him go through narrowed eyes. I bet he stuck his dick in a crazy bitch. It was the only thing I could think of that every dumb man did at least once. My little cousin grew up a smuggler, and I reached to rub the back of my head roughly.

  “I’ll find out eventually what the fuck he did. Grabbing the last four bricks, I ignored the gnawing curiosity in my gut as I walked to my bike. My cruiser was specifically built for these long hauls, with an eleven-gallon monster tank and all black and chrome. I liked my speedster better, though—my beautiful siren. I sucked in a sharp breath to stop my chest from collapsing in on itself as the image of my bike taunted the dark edges of my vision.

  “He’s literally just a kid—look at him!” Parker blurted out the revelation loudly, his shock striking like lightning through the clearing. I almost winced at the near immediate crack that followed, rippling across my cheek and down my neck palpably. My cousin nearly knocked Parker right out of his saddle, his fists trembling with rage by his sides.

  “Fuck off. I’ll fucking beat your face into the dirt.” Rook’s voice was deep, hoarse, the stress he was under making it thrum almost visibly in the darkness. Packing up my bricks, I sniffled lightly and scowled when Parker glanced at me in alarm. If he expected me to ruffle my feathers, he was in for a shock.

  Rook was a scrapper, always ready for a fight. He was a great kid to have on our side. Parker’s eyes flashed with shadows when I said nothing, but I ignored him to secure my saddlebags and swing my leg over my bike. I’d told him to keep his mouth shut, and this was why.

  “I’ll call you when we get to Utah, Uncle Minter. C’mon, Rook. We’ve got one hell of a ride ahead of us.” My cousin glared hotly at Parker for a long moment before turning around with a scoff. Stomping over to me, he took a few deep breaths, and I held up a palm to stop him. “Be careful with my bike. It’s worth more than you are.”

  “Sure.” Grumbling as he forcibly shirked his anger off slender shoulders, my cousin gulped down his aggression and unhooked his nails from his palms. “I won’t hurt your bike.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’m likely to kill you if you ever put a scratch on her.” I lowered my hand, and Rook carefully swung his leg over the back of my bike to sit behind me. Handing him my helmet, I couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that stretched my lips when he grumbled under his breath. Rook’s head was too small, but protection was protection. Gesturing Parker to roll out, I kicked up the stand and jerked the clutch, and my bike roared to life.

  It was gonna be a long, silent ride back to Utah.

  Chapter Four

  Nicole

  Why’d you even bring him? That stranger’s words clung to the backs of my eyes far too long, and I gnawed on my inner cheek absently. Staring into the pristine, white tablecloth, I twiddled my thumbs in my lap under the table. God, I hated how I was thinking about this crap while at my sister’s rehearsal dinner. I should’ve been focused on her and her impending nuptials, but instead, I’d been too focused on Tom. Our fight at that remote gas station rang in my ears, and I still had trouble coming to grips with the fact that it happened.

  Firstly, Tom and I had only been dating for ten months. Who proposes at ten months? And we weren’t even that serious! I huffed as these past months flashed across the tablecloth as if it was a movie screen. I liked Tom, but I was starting to get disenchanted with him after inviting him as my plus one to this wedding.

  I should’ve broken up with him when I found the ring box. I picked under my nails in agitation. None of this would be happening if I had a spine.

  Tearing my eyes off the smooth tablecloth, I scanned the room for Tom, and annoyance simmered in my veins. He chatted up my parents, his handsome face a perfect mask of pleasantness. And that’s the problem. He’s pleasant to be around, but that’s it. I stopped being excited to be around him right around the time he got comfortable enough to pee on the toilet seat.

  “You look like you wanna kick him in the shin.” I jumped, my thoughts stalling as my sister sat next to me with a knowing, small smile. Nervousness gnawed at my gut, and I licked my lips heavily as I turned to Jackie. “What’d you fight about all the ride up here?”

  “Tom plans to propose to me at your reception.” Jackie’s beautiful, long face froze in surprise, her eyes narrowing into slits as they slid across the room. Mortification tightened my throat, and I clenched my hands into tight fists under the table. “I told him if he did it, I’d break up with him, but he just ignored all my reasons why that’s a terrible idea. The least of which is because it’s your wedding. I shouldn’t have brought him. I’m so sorry, Jackie.”

  “You want me to beat him up for you?” My chest tightened, squeezing my heart, and I shook my head dully at my sister’s offer. “I can tell him he’s uninvited, you know, Nicole. It’s not too late. Also, you’re right—it’s my wedding. I can do whatever the fuck I want on my wedding day.”

  “No, I can handle it.” Quipping up fast, I shook my hands in denial as my sister fro
wned at me. Guilt clawed at the back of my throat, but I gulped it down hastily. “I’m not trying to make drama on your day, Jackie. I already made it very clear to Tom not to do anything stupid and reminded him that he’s five hundred miles away from home, and I’m the one that drove us here. It’ll be fine. I hope.”

  “I’m gonna go threaten him, too.” Opening my mouth, I barely got out a sound before Jackie stood up and stormed off. Sinking deep into my chair, I covered my flaming face with clammy palms. “Hey, Tom!”

  Oh, God, I could’ve died. I wanted to shrivel up and get ground into dust. Why did I tell Jackie? She was always so straightforward and abrasive. Blood drummed in my ears, drowning out Jackie’s shouting across the event hall. Tears of horror prickled my eyes, and I stiffened as shivers threatened to tear my spine apart, vertebra by vertebra.

  “I can’t believe this was happening.” I couldn’t hear myself talk over the embarrassment blaring in my skull, and I peeked out between my fingers. Jackie had always been really good at strongarming people, but my sister somehow managed not to be mean about it. She spoke very forcefully at Tom, but I couldn’t hear what she said. Waggling her finger in his face, she forced him to step back a few times, her four-inch heels serving her well.

  Tom held up his hands, but his expression was the same as before. He smirked, not taking the situation seriously. He thought it was funny that everyone was so worked up over him. It was something about him I didn’t like, and I didn’t see it until after I’d invited him to the wedding. Maybe, inviting him as my plus one was somehow confirming our relationship?

  Ugh. I propped my forearms on the table to hide my face as my mistake emblazoned on the backs of my eyelids. That’s where I messed up.

  When I peeked over my arm, my sister was strutting back toward me, looking feisty and outrageous in her long, red cocktail dress. She was bold in everything she did, and if I only had just one ounce of Jackie’s courage. Hiding my frown in the crook of my elbow, I tore my eyes off her as she sat next to me again, and Jackie leaned to rub my back soothingly. My chest ached almost painfully, the tension gripping my heart, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes.

 

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