Torched: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Paula Cox

  My eyes slowly open as I come up for air gasping. We’ve traveled the length of the office back to my desk. I’m sitting in a chair and she’s sitting on my lap, cradled in my arms. How did we get here? It doesn’t matter. All that I can see is her face stained with tears and those small, delicate hands trembling in fear. I want to make this go away. I have to. It doesn’t matter what has happened over the past few weeks, what she has told me or kept hidden. All that matters is keeping Anna alive and finding the bastard that has broken her.

  CHAPTER 8

  Did we just…? But back at the house, we…? After everything…?

  My mind can’t make any sense of it. I’m so lost in the afterglow of that kiss that I can barely process the seconds that led up to this. One minute, I’m nearly sobbing over how I betrayed the one guy trying to protect me, and then the next, he is on me with those lips… oh those lips! They are as soft and as tender as I had imagined them. The taste of him, wood and smoke, still lingers on my tongue as I stand myself up.

  “Mack…” I start. I always feel like I need to fill the empty silence with something, but right now, I can’t muster up a word.

  He swivels back towards the front of the room. Adjusting his shirt, he says with quiet firmness, “Don’t say another word about it, Anna. I understand. This Riley guy is a piece of shit. I believe you when you say you have nothing to do with it and had no clue that it was him behind the mark tattoo. But we have bigger things to take care of besides you and me, got it?” I nod as he orders, “Let Zeke back in. We have to figure out a plan now.”

  I too adjust my shirt and run my fingers through my tangled hair. I slid a hand across my soaking wet lips and even out the remainder of my eyeliner. Though, I guess it wouldn’t be too bad if Zeke thought I was in here taking an emotional beating from Mack. I peek my head out the door to find Zeke standing just a few feet away, his back leaned up against the wall. He uses his hand to call for me.

  Shutting Mack’s office door behind me, I walk towards him, my head hung in embarrassment. “I’m sorry about him, kid. He can be real jackass when he’s upset. But don’t worry about it. We’ve got your back. I have the guys on call for a meeting in just a few hours, if he wants it. I know they’ll vote to take your dick of an ex-boyfriend out. The guys like having you around as much as he does, even if he won’t admit it.”

  All I can reply is a quick, “Thanks.” I’m not sure what else I could respond with that wouldn’t give away what just happened back in the office. “Mack wants to see you now, and me too, I think.” He didn’t really say if I should still be a part of this or not. Though, now it feels as if I am permanently entwined in this whether I want to be or not.

  I follow Zeke back in and take my seat right where I was. Mack looks more composed and adjusted. He places his hands on the desk as he says, “Now we know the whole story here, we need to come up with a plan. We can’t let her… or us be sitting ducks. If his phone call to the lawyer means anything, it’s that he knows exactly where to find her and that we’re behind her new life.”

  “I agree with you, Mack,” Zeke says, smiling. “That’s why I have the guys on standby for a meeting. I didn’t say what it was for or anything… just to be ready to head down to headquarters on twenty minutes’ notice. You want me to send the signal out?”

  “No, not yet. We three have to think of something—some way to trap Riley and take him out.” He looks at me with piercing, fierce eyes as he asks me directly, “Are you okay with that? Do you understand what I am saying?”

  It’s hard to misunderstand the term “take him out,” especially when you’re talking to someone who regularly refers to “hits” and “wars.” Obviously, none of these men have clean hands when it comes to violence. I just didn’t know, until this point, how far they were willing to go to keep their territory and people safe. But I also understood that Mack needed my permission too. I was the one who would be most affected by Riley’s death. I was the one who had to say go.

  I swallow back the fear, the anger, the sadness that has built up in me as I look back and forth between Zeke and Mack. “Yes, I understand what you mean. Do what you need to do. I won’t stop you.”

  “Good, Anna,” Zeke replies, still smiling like this was me giving him permission to finish off filing my taxes. “We need to know everything about this guy. What’s his personality like? What makes him tick? Any secrets?”

  My two-year relationship with him flashes back to me. There were happy moments—lots of them actually. I wander off in thought as I think out loud. “He was a great guy, at first. He treated me like royalty, even though I secretly think that he just liked having this tattooed bad girl around as a trophy. But we spent a lot of time at his mom’s house.” My mind pauses here as I look towards Mack with a firm, “Do not hurt her. I wouldn’t want to get my mom involved, we are not using his mom either. My rules go there.”

  “Fine, fine. I wouldn’t touch an innocent civilian anyways.” Mack lifts his hands in defense, a coy smile breaking that steely glare.

  “Anyways, when he started getting into motorcycles, he went to this body shop all the time… I think it was Tony’s or Tommy’s. I can’t remember. I really didn’t pay much attention to it, except that there were always guys around who wore patches like yours on their jackets. Not the same ones, just similar in design.”

  Mack interrupts me to ask, “Zeke, you think that’s Totoli’s Auto and Cycle, the place where the Devil’s Furry hang out and get their repairs done?”

  “I would bet my life on it. The Devil’s club is where all the newbs go at first. They would let anyone in that could give them some money and pledge loyalty. Do you think he joined up with them, Anna?”

  I try to remember the few nights he came home angry, despondent. Those were moments and memories I would prefer not to think back on too heavily. So I answer quickly, “No. I don’t think so. After a few months, he stopped going there. At least, he stopped taking me with. He started dressing different, talking different. He went out late at night to Hickory’s Bar on South Street and didn’t come back for hours. That’s when I started to leave. I couldn’t stand being around him anymore.”

  “Hickory’s is old Knight’s territory. I wonder if he was recruiting there, trying to round up the old guys like your boy said, Zeke. Anna, what about tattoos? What could be the connection there besides it being a Knight tradition?”

  “That’s the thing, Mack,” I say, completely confused. “He absolutely hated that I worked giving tattoos. It was one of his control things. He thought that girl artists were skanks or low class. He thought I would sleep around with the guys even though he knew I wasn’t attracted to the whole motorcycle club or street gang thing.” At least until now…

  “I don’t want to lure him in with you as bait, but what can we do to get him to come to us?” Mack asks, getting to the point.

  “We have to use her,” Zeke says, sitting a bit higher in his chair. He looks back to me quickly as he spells out a plan. “He hates that you’re doing tattoos, and so he is using that against you, still. He knows that we’re using you for the tattoo business and protecting you in return. So we have to get you out there, doing tattoos in the open where he can make a move.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, Zeke.” Mack stands and rounds the front of the desk again. “I am not putting her or our men at risk and doing it in broad daylight. Plus, how the fuck is she supposed to do tattoos outside the shop? He won’t set foot in there knowing that we’re around the block and always watching.”

  Zeke points to the newspaper sitting on Mack’s desk. “We get him to the tattoo convention. We spend the next few days advertising the hell out of her booth, billing it up to be the best thing in Portland so he won’t miss the notices. He won’t be able to resist crashing on her big debut.”

  “That’s stupid. He won’t take the risk to take a shot at her with a crowd around her. He’ll just wait till she leaves the show when we can’t protect her.”

 
My mind spins as I exclaim, “That’s why we need all of his guys there. We have to make it so that the Knights are invested in more than just killing off their president’s ex-girlfriend. You said it yourself that the new Knights were inexperienced, so that means they’d be drawn into a battle if they were pushed to it, right? Well, what’s the one thing we can do to offend them so badly that they will have to come?” I look back and forth at their blank faces before shouting, “We give everyone that mark!”

  “What? You want to give people that mark? The circle with the three lines?”

  “Yes. We give it to everyone we can—probably our club guys. I’ll do up different versions of it, but it will be largely the same. We advertise that this is my ‘specialty’ tattoo and that I’ll be tattooing it on anyone willing for fifty percent off the regular price so we draw even more in…”

  Mack adds, “So the Knights will see it, be pissed off we took their symbol, and want to start a war with us in the convention hall. But we’ll be ready, just like the first time we defeated them.”

  Zeke looks at me mystified, as if I have come up with the solution to curing cancer or finding world peace. “They won’t know what hit them, and they’ll be vastly outnumbered. It’s brilliant, Anna.”

  “It’s still suicide. If shit goes down and we can’t take out Riley in time, you’re screwed. There won’t be anything I—or any of the guys—can do to protect you.” Mack is close to pleading with me to see reason, but I can’t. This is the only plan we have that will guarantee a total end to Riley and the Knights for once and for all. And giving that tattoo will be my way of seeking revenge for all the men who gave the tattoo before me—a punishment for taking their force out on innocent artists.

  “We have to do this, Mack,” I reply calmly. “There is no other option.” I soften my gaze as I peer into his darkened features. That locked-in jaw juts out just slightly, as if he’s taking a hit for me already.

  With a snap of his fingers, he sends Zeke out to get word to the club about their meeting. They were going to have to figure out a way to convince a lot of men to get a tattoo that symbolized death and assassins, but if anyone can do it, it’s Mack.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Are you ready to go, Mack?” Anna calls from the back of her shop. “I told Ian we would be there a half hour ago.” I look over at the clock hanging in the waiting area. She’s right. I hate being late. It’s a sign of disrespect in my circle, evidence that you can’t even manage your own time correctly.

  “Yeah. I’m waiting on you, Anna. I can’t go anywhere without you telling me what to pick up.” Even a month later of practically manning this tattoo shop with Anna, I still don’t understand or even know the names of the majority of the equipment. Needles, okay. Ink, okay. The rest of it? Yeah, not so much. I never was a big techie kind of guy.

  Zeke’s actually been the one doing all the big advertising online. He thought it would be the biggest bang for our buck if we could micro-target potential members of the Knights online. He put ads up for Anna’s “Circle of the Night” tattoo on porn sites, motorcycle information pages, and travel guides. They even figured out how to make it so that people in the same zip code as Knight Territory would see it when they logged in to their social media accounts. I was, and still am, pretty impressed by all of that. The old dog in me would have just stuck with the newspaper like my original ad for Anna’s Crazy 9’s.

  Their hard work and ingenuity have been paying off. The last I checked, Anna had managed to sign up around forty people to get a version of the Circle of the Night tattoo done at her convention booth. Fifteen of them were our guys, but we had more signed up in case those other twenty-five decided to flake and back out on the security deposit. Hell, the entire club practically volunteered to get the tattoo done if it meant protecting Anna and stomping out the Knights for once and for all.

  “Okay. I’m ready.” Anna steps out of one of the booths carrying her mop pail. She wipes her bangs away with the back of her yellow-gloved hand. Even sweaty and worked up from sanitizing, she still manages to look unbelievably sexy. She sets down the pail, giving me a glance of the tops of her full, peach-colored tits, perky and beautiful as all get out. Her cutout back shows the line of tattooed moons that trace down her spine.

  We haven’t touched since that kiss in my office. I’m not sure why. I could have taken her then and there, or the next day and the day after that, but we just sort of fell back into Mack the bodyguard and his tattoo artist employee. The only thing that’s been different is that I haven’t left her side since. We haven’t returned to the safe house other than to grab some fresh clothes, and each night, she’s laid beside me, wrapped in my blankets with her chin pressed against my shoulders and her long, thick thighs draped over my legs.

  It’s been agony to keep my hands off her, especially when she’s throwing me bones like this, but I can feel that the distance between us is all Riley related. Since she opened up about him, she’s been more distant but more focused. It’s almost as if she’s concentrating on exacting revenge on him more than any of our guys are. Whatever he did to her, whatever he put her through, he certainly did a number on her. That kind of control is something I could never want for a free soul like Anna Fox.

  Anna pulls a piece of paper from the pockets of her cut-off shorts. “I made a list with descriptions in case it’s easier for you to help Ian grab the big things and me to just sort through the ink. I don’t want to spend too much time there. We have to be back here by eight p.m. for your sister’s restaurant opening.”

  I hate to admit it, but I completely forgot about Kimmy’s restaurant. It’s not like it’s been low-key or under the radar. Kimmy has been in and out of my apartment for days now finalizing details and making sure my guys were going to work the front door as security for the VIPs she was bringing in for the showcase. We even stopped operations today so as not to draw potential press attention to her landlords and the bikers occupying the back of the restaurant space.

  “Yeah,” I reply to Anna. “How could I forget? The moon revolves around my little sister and her big restaurant success.”

  “Someone sounds jealous,” Anna teases. “You wanna talk about that or save it for counseling?”

  I grit my teeth and reply, “No, I’ll pass. Let’s get the hell out of here so I can get back home to clean up and put on some damn monkey suit she picked out for me.”

  “Mack in a suit. I can’t wait to see that.” She winks at me before striding past. I parked the van just outside the door. No cycle for today. While we’ve been keeping an eye out on Ian’s place since Anna opened the shop here, I’d still rather keep a lower profile and not draw anyone’s attention before we even have a chance to enact our tattoo convention plan.

  I toss Anna the keys to her car before heading to the driver’s side of the van. She’s been complaining lately about not having driven anywhere. I don’t blame her. There’s freedom in the roads, even if it’s just taking the route to the grocery store once a week. I couldn’t imagine life without an escape on the back of my bike, or in her case, in that old beater she calls a car.

  Just as I expected, she’s a speed demon behind the wheel without worrying about following behind me or me taking the wheel. The more I get to know about this girl, the more I realize how I alike we are in the most unusual and unexpected ways. It’s irritating and frustrating, but it’s like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.

  When we park outside the back of the old shop, she shouts, “I am so excited to see Ian! It’s been the longest I’ve been without seeing him in years. He’s going to lose his shit when—”

  Anna’s voice trails off as she stops in her place, just outside the van’s open door. Her mouth is agape, her voice stuck in her throat. I run straight to her side, my hand planted on my pants’ pocket where I keep my gun. It takes me a moment to register what has stunned her in place, but then I see it—the shadow of a body on the ground, boots facing us. A trail of blood covers the metal door th
at’s been flung open. Feet from where we stand, a stained baseball bat rests in the gravel.

  Anna’s hands grab at my jacket, finding a handful of my collar. Her voice quivers as she looks up at me to ask, “Is he—Is that—?” I scan the parking lot. We’re the only ones here. The back of the lot faces a bank that’s empty as well, but cycles are as easily hid as they are seen. I have no other choice but to bring her in to see the body on the ground.

  I take the gun out of my pocket, holding it out at my neck-level. Anna spins around my arm, clinging to my back, as we begin to step closer to the broken door. I hear her whisper his name, louder with each step, but I press my finger to my lips. The worst thing we could do now is give ourselves away.

  The shop is dark, but even in the few, spotty lights, I can make out the wine-red trails of thick, fresh blood. It bounces from the door to the lounge, to a piece on the leather sofa. Whatever happened in here wasn’t clean. The man on the ground had to have put up one hell of a fight. I do my best to not draw attention to it, but Anna gasps when she sees the hand smear against the white hallway walls.