by London Casey
“Who hurt you?” he asked.
“What?”
“You have more makeup on your right side than the left. I bet if I held you down and wiped all that away, there’d be a mark there. Right?”
Heather’s eyes went wide with shock. “I…”
“What? You fell? You tripped over your own two feet? You were carrying a laundry basket and missed a step? Try me, sweetheart. I heard it all before. Who the fuck did this to you?”
“Why does it matter?”
“It does.”
“Trust me, it doesn’t,” Heather said. “You wouldn’t want to mess with him anyway. He’s…”
“Did you use the fucking patch on my back? Realize who I am. Nobody is going to fuck with me without eating a bullet. And the same for you.”
Heather blinked fast again. Tears filled her eyes and they spilled down her cheeks. Just as Brody figured, the tears collected makeup, making a mess of her face. She was still pretty though.
“Are you going to hold me down and ask me questions?” Heather asked.
“Are you going to pull that trigger and kill me?” Brody asked right back.
“No,” Heather whispered.
“You think it’s not my business, but to me it is. You’re taking care of one of my brothers. And you fear for your life. That’s no way to live, sweetheart.”
Heather jabbed the gun into Brody’s gun. He stepped back. She spun it around in her hand and offered the gun back.
“But it’s my life,” she said. “Thanks for giving a shit. But you don’t want to know.”
Heather took a step and Brody grabbed her. She spun around and slapped him in the face. The slap echoed and the sting did too.
“Feel better?” Brody asked.
“Fuck you,” Heather said.
“Wipe that shit off your face then. Show who you really are. Letting him do that…”
“I will shoot you,” Heather said. “I don’t care.”
“Yeah? Then come get my gun, sweetheart. Come on. Come slap me again.”
Heather started to cry again and ran away.
Brody was pissed off now. He understood what Heather was doing. She was protecting all those around her. She didn’t want anyone to sample her world of hell. But what she didn’t know was that Brody’s feet were still scarred from walking in that hell.
And for some reason, for Heather, he’d walk through hell again.
seven.
Heather just ran. She cut to the left at the end of one hall, cut to the right at the end of the next. Nobody thought it out of the ordinary. She could have gotten a call for help. Nurses were always charging through the hospital. In fact, that was the easiest way to look busy if you weren’t. But Heather was busy. Busy trying to get away from the asshole.
That asshole in the leather cut that thought he was so sexy and smooth. He wasn’t that. Okay, fine, he was sexy, but not smooth. He was rough. Dirty. Grungy. He didn’t smell of expensive cologne or anything like that. He smelled of smoke, booze, and had the appeal of a rattlesnake about to strike.
And Heather kind of liked it.
He put his gun in her hand and gave her a minute of power. That was more trust in that moment than Lyle showed her in years. Heather knew a long time ago she didn’t love Lyle. She wasn’t even sure if she ever loved him. It was more or less the love of the life they had together. That suit and tie, smell good, good looks kind of life. Feeling like other people were jealous of her. Now she was jealous of everyone else who didn’t have to deal drugs and get smacked around for no reason.
And yet some biker wanted to jump in the mix and help her?
Why? Because he wanted to fuck her or something?
Is that such a bad thing? A strong, sexy man who wants to touch you?
Heather stopped running, leaned against a wall, and squeezed her eyes shut.
She couldn't be having these thoughts. No fucking way in hell.
Right on cue, ready to strip her of more freedom and life, her cell rang. And it was Lyle calling. Heather considered ignoring the call, but she knew better. Each ignored call would be paid back to her later. Plus, Lyle would just keep calling and calling and calling until she answered.
When Heather did answer, it was a pissed off Lyle. He was in the parking lot of the hospital, and he demanded to see Heather right now. She tried to say she was working, but her voice cracked in a little lie (since she was technically not working as she hid in a hallway from the sexy biker) and Lyle made it clear he’d come into the hospital with his guys and drag her out by the hair.
That was pretty scary to Heather. She hung up the call and went to the first set of steps she could find. She took them two at a time, all the way down to the ground floor. Her one solace in life was her ability to run. It was the one thing she did to get away from it all. Even though Lyle kept tabs on her while she exercised and had one of his goonies follow her to make sure she didn’t run and leave for good.
Heather exited the hospital barely out of breath. Her legs burned a little, her mind and heart a lot. She couldn’t help but wonder if her legs would burn like this if she were with that biker. How he’d touch her. Hold her. Pull at her.
Lyle stood outside his car, arms crossed.
Heather gave a small wave and ran to him. “Hey… what’s…”
Lyle grabbed Heather by the arms and spun her around. He slammed her against the car so hard, she lost her breath.
“You fucking whore,” he growled.
Did he see me? With that biker? I didn’t do anything… well, in my mind…
“You dumb bitch,” Lyle said.
“What?” Heather managed to find her breath.
“Peter was picked up yesterday,” Lyle said. “Because of you.”
“Me? What did I…”
Lyle slid a hand up over Heather’s mouth. He squeezed tight. She could barely breathe through her nose.
“You fucking gave him the wrong cup of coffee,” Lyle said.
Heather shook her head.
“You wasted time. Precious fucking time. They were looking for him. They were on to him. If he got the right cup and it was all perfect, like I had said it would be, he would have been out of town before anything happened. But he had to rush. And he got caught. Because of you, you fucking idiot.”
Lyle moved his hand and Heather let out a gasp for air. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Lyle.”
“That’s not good enough,” Lyle said. “You fucked me.”
“I’m not a drug dealer,” Heather said. “That’s not what I signed up for.”
Lyle grabbed Heather again. He slammed her against the car. She cried out. He pulled her to do it again.
“I fucking dare you,” a voice said.
Heather looked and saw the biker standing behind Lyle, a gun to Lyle’s head.
“Holy shit,” Heather whispered.
“Do it, pussy,” the biker said. “Hurt her again. I dare you.”
“Who the fuck is this?” Lyle asked. He let Heather go and slowly turned.
“Stop it,” Heather said. “Put the gun down and leave.”
“Listen to her,” Lyle said. “You don’t know who I am. I don’t travel alone.”
“Neither do I,” the biker said. “Bring them out!”
Bring them out?
Heather looked left, right, and left again. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There were two more bikers and they were dragging two of Lyle’s men. Their faces bloody, feet barely able to move.
“Drop them,” the biker said. He looked at Lyle. “Those are your men. Take good care of them. Because she’s coming with me. You’re not going to hurt her anymore.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Lyle spit fire.
“I’m Brody. I’m Back Down Devil. I’m going to kill you if you step into this town again.”
Heather was shaking. She didn’t know what to do or where to turn.
Lyle made a move though. He spun, hand ready to smash into Heather’s face. She braced herself
but wasn’t prepared for what happened.
The biker - Brody - was faster than Lyle.
He made a fist and punched Lyle right in the nose. Heather had never seen someone stand up to Lyle, let alone actually hit him.
Lyle stumbled back, grabbing at his face.
Brody put his hand out. “Come on, sweetheart. This is over. You’re not going to get hurt anymore. Not with me.”
“You’ll fucking pay for this!” Lyle screamed. “You’ll fucking die for this!”
“Ignore him,” Brody said.
Heather couldn’t believe what was happening right now. She was following a biker. Before she knew what she was doing, she was on the back of his motorcycle. He turned his head and yelled to her, “Tell me where he lives. We’ll go get you some clothes and shit. You’re done with that asshole, sweetheart. Trust me. You’re not going to end up dead when I’m looking after you.”
Then stop looking after me.
But Heather didn’t say that. Because it would have been a complete lie. In fact, she wanted Brody to keep looking after her. And more.
eight.
Brody throttled his ride and clenched his teeth. Behind him the prospects were following. It was dumb luck that Lane and Jack ended up staying in the hospital to flirt with a few of the girls at the check-in desk. It was even dumber luck that Brody saw Lyle’s asshole guys standing around, smoking, talking about drugs. It damn near set itself up for Brody to save her.
But drugs? What the fuck…
Brody had heard enough of the conversation between Lyle and Heather to know that this beautiful nurse on the back of his motorcycle wasn’t the most innocent woman in the world. He could deal with that later though. First, he needed to get her to safety. Then he could pick her apart and figure out what the hell was going on behind the scenes here in Frelen.
Heather yelled directions into his ear. Her hands were tight around his waist. Her small hands hung on for dear life as he made sharp lefts, sharper rights, and sped as fast as he could.
The house was far out on the edge of Frelen. Actually, Brody couldn’t be sure that the house wasn’t a couple hundred yards outside Frelen. That made Lyle and whatever operation he was running a little trickier.
Brody stopped his ride and made Lane and Jack survey the scene. There was nobody waiting for Heather right now. After shooting out the door, Brody told Heather she had literally two minutes to pack up some shit. In that two minutes, Heather managed to pack up two large bags. She couldn’t even lift them off the floor. Brody grabbed them and gave one to each prospect to strap on their backs.
Again, all of this told Brody that Heather was living a wild life of hell. She had packed bags fast before. She had dealt with drugs and guns before. The question was… just how innocent - or guilty - was this beautiful woman?
With Heather on the motorcycle again, Brody took off. The prospects were right behind him. A few minutes into their ride, there were cars flying up the road. Brody drew his weapon and lifted it, making sure the prospects knew to do the same. The cars swerved head on toward Brody but the second he started shooting, they cut their wheels and all three cars spun off the side of the road into the dirt, kicking up clouds of dust.
Brody and the prospects sped through the clouds and were off and free. Back into Frelen, sights set on the Back Down Devil clubhouse.
There was no more trouble and once Brody turned into the compound he felt a small wave of relief come over him. He helped Heather off her motorcycle and then went to the prospects.
“Put the bags in my room,” he said. “Then get yourself a beer, a shot, and a reliever. Just one though. You’ll have to share. You’re fucking prospects and nothing more.” Jack and Lane nodded. Brody grabbed them each by their blank leather cuts. “Thank you though. That showed balls. That showed loyalty.”
The prospects walked away and Brody turned and went to Heather. He touched her arms and smiled. “You okay, sweetheart?”
Without responding, Heather jumped at him, kissing him. Brody wasn’t expecting the gesture and he wasn’t going to turn it down.
His hands settled at the small of her back, pulling tight and lifting her up. Their lips were tight together, Heather breathing wildly. She then started to part her sweet, thin lips, and that was all Brody could take. He commanded the kiss from there, his tongue tasting her lips and then moving into her mouth. Heather kissed right back with the same desperate fury, wanting more.
The kiss lasted only a few more seconds before Heather pulled back and shook her head.
“No, sorry. I… sorry.”
“It’s good. Why don’t you come inside?”
“Brody, wait.”
“What, sweetheart?”
“Lyle is a bad man,” Heather said. “He’s a…”
“Drugs?”
“Yeah. You heard?”
“I heard enough.”
“He’s got people. Contacts. They’ll come looking for me.”
Brody opened his arms and pointed to all the motorcycles. “Let them come. This is our town, sweetheart. This is Back Down Devil. Come inside and take a fucking breath.”
“What if… I say no?”
Brody gritted his teeth. He moved toward Heather, knowing he needed to try and approach with care. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. But, fuck, sometimes everyone needed to be scared. To understand. To realize. To know the fucking truth of life.
Brody touched Heather’s face. He stared deep into her eyes. “Don’t confuse what I did for you as anything more than what it is.”
“What is it?”
“I heard what you said. I heard what he said. I wasn’t going to let some asshole hurt a beautiful woman. But you’re not so innocent yourself, Heather. And I’m not offering you a chance to stay here. I’m telling you you’re staying here. You’ll be in care and have my protection. You’re not leaving until I tell you to. Do you fucking understand that?”
Tears filled Heather’s eyes. She nodded.
Brody stepped back and made fists. He wasn’t like Lyle. He wasn’t like his father either. There was a difference between hurting and protecting, even if on the surface they seemed similar.
“I understand,” Heather said.
“Just be fucking honest with me,” Brody said. “That’s all I can ask for right now.”
Heather stepped forward. She grabbed at Brody’s leather cut and tugged. “If you want honesty, fine. Right now I can’t stop thinking about a hot shower to wash… everything away.”
Holy fucking hell…
“I can make that happen,” Brody said.
He led the way to the clubhouse. Once inside, he kept Heather close. All eyes were upon them. He spotted Lane and Jack coming back from the room. They looked beat to hell and tired.
“Lane,” Brody said. “Take Heather to my room.” He put his lips to Heather’s ear. “I’ll be there in a few.”
Heather went with Lane, Jack following.
Brody turned and was met with Blaine and Gaige.
“Whoa,” Blaine said. “I smelled that fresh pussy from a mile away. When do I get to taste it?”
“Fuck off,” Brody said.
“Care to tell us what that’s about?” Gaige asked.
“She’s a nurse,” Brody said.
“I’m hard,” Blaine said. “Rock hard. A nurse? Damn. I’ve got this massive growth between my legs… if she rubs it…”
“He doesn’t stop, does he?” Brody asked.
“Never,” Gaige said. “Better to ignore him.”
“… and after she rubs it for a few minutes, it’ll get harder and thicker… but that’s okay…”
Brody gritted his teeth. “She was one of Erik’s nurses. She’s got herself into some deep shit. Involved with a guy.”
“Boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. Not like I’m going to go and fuck her.”
But I’d like to. Oh, fuck, man, I want to.
“Then I will,” Blaine said. “Christ
. You can’t bring that in here and not let it be taken care of.”
“Listen to me,” Brody said. “The shit that went down with the drugs. Chief called Miller about it. I think she knows something about it.”
“Fuck,” Gaige said. “Bring her ass out here right now then. We’ll strap her to a table and…”
“Oh, don’t do that to me,” Blaine said. “Don’t talk about strapping a chick to a table. You know what that does to my mind? The shit that runs through my head? My whole fucking day is lost now. All I’ll be thinking about is that little nurse strapped to a pool table. Me holding a pool stick… a ball… holy fuck…”
“Blaine, out of here,” Gaige said. “Go fantasize in a corner.”
“He’ll probably jerk off,” Brody said.
“Good thinking,” Blaine said. Blaine winked and gave a thumbs up.
“Gaige, give me a break here,” Brody said. “The guy beats on her, okay? She’s fucking scared to death.”
“What did you do to him? To her?”
“Don’t worry about it right now,” Brody said. “I took care of business. She’s protected here and she has information. I hate to say this, but she knows what’ll happen if she doesn’t share with us. The point is that her… whatever… will be snooping around, I’m sure. I can get everything from Heather and we can plan a quick attack.”
“Christ,” Gaige said. “This is the last thing we need right now. We’re trying to figure out Eight Under, Coast Road…”
“I know,” Brody said. “I know. And I know Miller is taking heat from Chief Jerry over this drug thing.”
“It was a coffee cup filled with shit,” Gaige said. “That’s what Miller told me. Nobody else knows. Don’t say I told you, okay?”
“A coffee cup…”
“Yeah. It wasn’t just some asshole with smack on him. This was a deal. This was movement. This signals something bigger. Maybe. But Miller wants it squashed.”
Brody put a hand to Gaige’s shoulder. “Then let me squash it, brother. Let me take care of this. I may not sit at the table, Gaige, but fuck, I have a patch for a reason.”
“I know, bro,” Gaige said. “Go to it then. I’ll talk to Miller when he gets back. Then we’ll have a meeting.”