by Debra Kayn
Her legs wobbled and she sank to the floor, the phone pressed to her ear. "Oh my God, Dad. Are you okay?"
"Where the hell are you?" her dad, David Haas, asked.
She rocked on her knees. "Pitnam, Washington. Where are you?"
"California, where the hell else would I be, honey?"
"Oh, God. Will you please leave Los Li and go back home?" she asked, fearing the worst.
"I can't. I need to make some money." Her dad lowered his voice. "I have a lot riding on this. Need to do right by you and work out a few things."
She stifled her anguish. He never listened. Half the time, she wondered if one of the past hits to his head hadn't given him brain damage. She couldn't understand his thirst to get into the predicaments he seemed to get into more frequently lately. However, the fact that he could discuss what he was doing was a good sign he'd listen to her. There'd been times when he'd shut her out completely and gotten himself in too deep.
"Dad, I need you to step back. This is important. Promise me you'll forget about everything, and not let anyone egg you into fighting," she said, knowing others were responsible for enabling his desires.
"Brandy, I need space," her dad said.
She pushed to her feet. "Can you describe where you are? Is it a room, a house, a hotel?"
"Hell, I don't know," he said.
Frustrated, she needed more information. "Be strong, Dad. Keep telling yourself that I love you. Brandy loves you. Keep saying it, and don't forget and go back home. I need you."
"I need—"
The phone disconnected. She screamed, "Dad."
She tossed the phone to the bed, and picked up the closet thing in reach, the lamp. She hurled it across the room, gasping on a sob. The base shattered, bringing her no relief. Her muscles spasmed, ached, clenched, screamed her uselessness to fix the situation. Her dad only had her to keep him safe. She couldn't fail again.
Chapter Eleven
A scream, followed by a low thud came from the cabin. Torque whirled around, jumped onto the porch, and opened Brandy's unlocked door. She was nowhere in sight.
"Brandy?" he called, walking straight to her room.
On her knees beside the bed, Brandy picked up pieces of broken glass. He strode across the room, picked her up, and sat her on the bed. "Do. Not. Move."
He walked out into the other room, grabbed the cardboard box he'd used to bring dinner to the cabin and found a broom leaning against the corner by the refrigerator. He returned to the room with both objects, looked at Brandy, dropped everything onto the floor, and kneeled down in front of her. Gone was the smile she wore earlier.
She stared at the floor, digging her nails into her palms. He pried her fingers away and held both of her hands to keep her from hurting herself.
"Hey...talk to me," he whispered.
She remained quiet, too quiet, and had no expression on her face. He glanced down to make sure she had shoes on, and then examined her hands, looking for any cuts. There were no marks or blood on her.
"Brandy?" He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them. "Did you fall and break the lamp?"
She brought her eyes over to him and shook her head. He breathed easier. She was unhurt physically.
He tilted his head to keep eye contact with her. "It's only a lamp, sunshine."
"Yeah." She pulled her hands away.
He moved back to give her space, and she used the extra room to stand. He straightened, studying the room. The lamp would've been on the nightstand, and it broke on the other side of the room. It didn't get up and walk over there.
"Did you throw the lamp?" He stepped in front of her and brushed the wild hair off her cheek.
"I'll pay Rain back." She swallowed hard enough her throat muscles spasmed. "O-or I can replace it with another one."
"I'm not worried about the lamp." He held her face between his hands. "What's got you upset?"
"Nothing," she said.
He kissed her forehead. "Don't bullshit me, sunshine."
She refused to say any more. Heaviness settled over him and he let his chin fall to his chest. Fuck.
He'd thought having dinner with her after having sex would make things right. She deserved better than a 'Thanks for the lay' and him hightailing it out the door the way he normally did. She wasn't a bitch, and he'd treated her like one again.
"Do you understand what happened between us?" He brought her head up to look at her. "Do you?"
She frowned. "We had sex."
"Yeah, sunshine, we had sex." He brought her against his chest, holding her tightly, and said, "I told you from the start, I'm an asshole."
"Assholes don't apologize," she said without moving away from him.
He stroked her back, glad to hear her attitude returning. More than willing to let her believe there was something good inside of him to like and soften the effects of what he'd done to her, he said, "Sorry, sunshine."
Several seconds ticked by, and her hands came up and held on to his belt. His chest tightened. The power of one of her hugs was capable of sending him to his knees.
No one that he could remember ever hugged him, just for comfort. They always wanted something. Brandy wanted nothing. She expected nothing. She asked for nothing in return.
Because she never forced him to give her anything, he hugged her back because he wanted to.
"It wasn't you," she mumbled against his vest.
He absorbed that bit of information. If he hadn't angered her, and she wasn't upset about having sex—claimed she loved the sex—then what or who bothered her enough, she threw a lamp across the room?
He replayed everything they'd talked about, surprised to find most of the conversation centered on him, and he knew little about her. Everything was fine up until he'd closed the door. He leaned back without letting her go.
"Was it the phone call?" he asked.
"Huh?" She rubbed her cheek against him.
"Did the call you received when I was leaving upset you?" he asked.
She backed away. Her hand went to her throat. He stepped toward her again, and she shook her head. Someone had upset her, and he wanted to know who that person was.
"What the fuck, sunshine?"
"Please." She inhaled loudly. "Just go."
"The hell I will. Tell me why you were happy when I left and not thirty seconds out the door, I hear you scream and find you shaking and upset." He hooked her neck with his hand, pulling her closer and not letting her retreat.
She pushed against him, but he refused to give her space. Her whole body quivered against him, pissing him off more. "Who did this?"
"You wanted me to believe you're an asshole, well you're being an asshole now."
He let her go, opened her dresser, and pulled out at stack of clothes. Then he walked into the bathroom, found her toothbrush, her makeup bag, and her hairbrush. He returned to the bedroom and tossed everything on the bed.
"What are you doing?" she said, grabbing her phone and shoving it in her pocket before he could grab it.
He found her suitcase against the wall and threw it on the bed. "Pack."
"W-why?" she asked.
He paused a beat and started throwing her things inside the luggage bag when she refused to move. "Because I'm not leaving you here when you're acting upset, and I can't stay in your cabin to make sure you get your happy back."
"My happy..." She grabbed for her clothes, but he yanked her shirt out of her hands. "I work here, Torque. You can't do this."
"I'll make sure you get to work tomorrow night." He shoved the last of her things in and zipped the bag. "Come on."
"Dammit. I'm not going with you." She held out her hand. "I'm pissed off, not upset. Now give me my stuff back."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the cabin. At the door, he stopped. "Do you have your keys?"
She pressed her lips together and stared at him. He waited her out. Her chin lifted and she gave him the attitude he had no problems giving back. He pulled her ou
t of the cabin, closed the door on a slam, and refused to back down. Stubbornness and thunder he could handle. Softness and tears left him useless.
At the backdoor of the bar, she threw herself against the door, stopping him from opening it. He growled his frustration. "You're not making this easier on yourself."
"Please, Torque. Let me have my bag and go back to the cabin. I'm fine." She held out her arms, raising his arm in the process, because he wasn't letting her go. "See?"
He grabbed the handle, kept the door open with the toe of his boot, picked up the suitcase, and hooked her waist with his other arm, carrying her inside the bar. In Rain's office, he set her down and closed the door, blocking her way.
She bore holes in him with a single look. Without taking his gaze off her, he spoke to Rain. "I've got my Harley outside. Can you take Brandy to my house in your truck?"
"Only have to ask once, brother." Rain came into view. "Everything okay?"
He kept looking at Brandy. "It will be."
Brandy snorted. "Rain, I'm not going to his house, and I seemed to have locked my cabin keys inside. Can I borrow an extra key?"
Torque moved around Brandy and put his hand on the doorknob. "I'll see you at the house in ten minutes."
"Give us twenty," Rain said.
He lifted his chin in acknowledgment and slipped out the door. Glad to put some distance between them to cool off, he headed straight for his motorcycle. He trusted Rain to make sure Brandy showed up on his doorstep. If she'd still been upset, he would never have left her, but since all she wanted to do is buck him every step of the way, Rain could probably get through to her better than he could.
Besides, Brandy wasn't his old lady, and he couldn't take her on the back of his bike. Club rules.
He pulled out of the parking lot, and headed home. Whatever made Brandy upset enough to throw a lamp—and he had good reason to believe that's what happened, he'd find out.
From what he'd assumed, she had no family around. He put more pressure on the throttle. Something about the way she'd fallen apart grabbed him and refused to let go. He never expected a woman as strong and independent to crumble, but he'd seen her face, he'd held her hands, he'd heard the fear in her breathing. He knew how it was to be scared. Nobody should go through that kind of hell alone.
Chapter Twelve
Brandy sat in Rain's truck next to a doll strapped into the middle of the bench seat. She looked at her boss to the doll to her boss. She was living a nightmare.
Rain put the key in the truck and glanced at her. "It's Lilly's toy. She'll only get in her car seat if her doll rides in the front."
"Strapped in?" She blinked in wonder at the big tough biker who would go to such a length to make his daughter happy. "Wow."
"Yeah...do anything for my girl." Rain's jaw relaxed and he let his hand drop from the steering wheel, letting the vehicle idle. "How much do you know about Torque?"
She looked out the front window and shrugged. "Enough."
Rain rolled down his window and leaned his arm out the door. "He's a loner. I guess every Bantorus member is to a point, but Torque...it goes deeper with him. I'd trust him with my life. That's why I have no problem delivering you to him."
She shook her head. "I'm your employee. I've told you I didn't want to go, and you escorted me to your truck, not even considering my wishes. You should have an employee handbook for all new employees. Because, really, kidnapping an employee should be on page one. Forcing an employee to do something she doesn't want to do will result in two weeks of vacation pay and two Friday nights off a month."
"Sweetheart, I'm not doing this for you." Rain shifted into first, eased off on the clutch, and drove out of the parking lot. "Torque wants you, and I'd do anything to make sure he has you. I also wouldn't be handing you over to him if I thought he was going to cause you any harm, physically or mentally."
She slouched in the seat. "Well, that's encouraging. Except this doll strapped beside me has more of a say in what she does than I do."
Rain drove several miles through town and onto a back road without another word out of him. She was thankful for the silence. Since she'd received the phone call and Torque going ape shit on her, she hadn't had time to wrap her head around anything.
Her dad was in danger.
She had no idea where he was or how to help him.
If she said screw it on her job and left to go back home, she'd only have the option of walking right back into Los Li's clutches. Radiant would make her pay for failing. He'd either kill her, or give her to the gang members. She shuddered. She had to succeed for her dad and herself.
Rain pulled into the driveway of a one-story ranch house. She scanned the area illuminated by the streetlights. There were several modest and clean houses around, but the one Rain parked in front of was the only one needing a paint job, the grass mowed, and the screen door lying in the overgrown shrubbery thrown away. She moistened her lips. Honestly, she wasn't sure Torque or anyone lived in the house. There was nothing on the outside that screamed occupied.
She turned to Rain. "Seriously? You're going to drop me off here and drive away even though I don't want to walk in there."
"Don't judge a man by the outside, sweetheart," he said.
Her mouth opened. Why were people always misunderstanding her? Bantorus members thought she was a bitch because of the way she dressed. She was twenty-four years old. Did they expect her to put on a sweater and long skirt?
"I'm not judging Torque or his house." She tapped down her anger. "I'm amazed that you of all people would make me do something I don't want to do. I don't want to spend the night with Torque."
"He was good enough that you had sex with him," he said.
"Oh, you did not just go there," She grabbed for the door handle, but Rain clamped his hand around her free wrist and stopped her. "What?"
"Don't hurt him," he said, softening his voice. "Give him time to understand you."
"I have no idea what you're talking about. This has nothing to do with him or me. He's just blowing this up into something it isn't. I broke a lamp." She stopped and inhaled deeply. "The lamp in my cabin, so I owe you for breaking it."
"Don't care about the lamp." Rain motioned with his chin toward the house. "Go to Torque. He needs you."
She glanced out the truck window at the front door of the house. Torque, hands in his pockets, stood in the opened doorway. She had thought Rain was lying to her about Torque needing her, but for some reason, just looking at him alone inside a house with no life, she wanted to go to him.
"I hate when other people are right," she muttered.
Rain chuckled. "I wouldn't expect Torque to pick a girl who wasn't smart."
She glared, but her anger diminished. "Don't let the looks fool you. I'm a badass behind the clothes and makeup."
He winked. "I'm sure you are."
She slid out of the truck, closed the door, opened the back door on the crew cab, grabbed her suitcase, and walked up the driveway. Torque remained at his spot in the house, and she stopped in front of him.
"One, it's never a good idea to order me to do anything. I'll fight with you even if I want to be with you tonight." She tossed her suitcase toward him. "Two, when I'm pissed off, you're only going to have to work harder at making me happy again, and I'm stubborn enough to make you pay for making me mad."
He glanced down, but not before she witnessed his lips curving.
"And three, babe...don't ever hand me over to Rain. If you've got a problem with me, then deal with me yourself." She stepped up to him, kissed his mouth. "You also need to mow your lawn so the neighbors stop talking about the badass biker dude down the road."
"How do you know they talk?" he said, moving over and letting her in the house.
She walked inside and turned around to face him. "Because I know people. You live in a nice, respectable neighborhood. You're a biker. That doesn't mean you have to let them continue believing you're not a good person when some of us know y
ou are."
He closed the door. The lines on his forehead more pronounced and his cheeks above his whiskered face twitched with tension. "Who says I'm a good person."
She rolled her eyes, because the man protested too much. "Rain, Bruce, me..."
He huffed, picked up her suitcase, and walked past her. "I didn't have you come here to discuss me."
She ignored his comment and followed him through the kitchen to the living room, because she didn't come here to talk about her either. She gazed around his living space. A leather couch sat in front of the window. On the opposite side of the room, a mega huge flat screen television filled the wall. It was a guy's room, down to the motorcycle magazines thrown haphazardly on the end table and a bandana hanging off a nail pounded directly into the wall next to the hallway.
Torque walked into the attached kitchen. She moved over to the brick fireplace hearth and ran her hand along the cool bare surface. A woman hadn't touched this room. There were no plants, no Cosmo magazines, and no pictures. Women always displayed pictures.
She blinked the moisture from her vision. Even after her dad financially lost the bar he'd owned, including their apartment above the establishment, she'd decorated their rundown duplex with pictures of their past. God, she missed being home.
Torque touched her arm. "Drink?"
She accepted the glass he handed her, took a sip, and blew out her breath. Warmth rolled through her. "Thanks."
With his own glass, he parked himself on the sofa and patted his thigh. She sat beside him, and not on his lap like he suggested. Getting cozy and having make-up sex was not why she came over to his house. Actually, she had no idea why she was here and not back in her cabin, trying to straighten her situation around, except Torque and Rain forced her here.
He hooked his hand under her calf, scooted farther away from her, and brought her foot onto his lap. She pulled her leg, but he tightened his grip.
"What are you doing?" she asked as he pulled off her sneaker.
His hand caressed the top of her foot and he added pressure to the sole with his thumb. Her back stiffened and she almost came up off the couch. Then pleasure curled around her middle and she sank back against the couch cushion.