by Shari Slade
And then it hits me. All those nights closing with Harry. Those long rides home. I might know some of the players. At least I could point them out. “I think I can help with that, Noah.”
I tell him my plan and his face hardens into a stone mask. Even his soft lips are forbidding. “No.”
“Take me back to the diner, Noah. I can point out the people Harry used to meet out back. I don’t have to talk to them. Or we can ride the back roads and I can show you where he stopped to drop things off or pick things up. It’s probably the picking up spots you’re most interested in, but I’m not sure how I’d have known the difference.”
“What am I supposed to do with you if we find trouble?”
“This is recon, Noah. I thought that’s what you did, gathered all the information first, right down to the color of the panties we were supposed to wear under our uniforms.”
“Don’t tell me how to do my job.” There’s a warning in his voice I haven’t heard before. I’ve skirted too close to a boundary I shouldn’t cross. I pull back.
“Fine. Maybe there’s more information here. Check under her bed. I’ll look at the mess on her dresser.” I feel horrible trying to put off my trip to the safe house, because it means putting off Noah’s efforts to find his sister, but I can’t help it.
I don’t really think I’ll find anything important amidst the love notes and gum wrappers. I brush my hands over the sleek mahogany wood and flick the glass drawer pulls. The furniture is beautiful. Like something out of a doll’s house come to life. The narrow top drawer glides open, revealing a froth of lacy underwear and a beautiful leather diary. Unlocked.
I shouldn’t peek. I should not. But jealousy and curiosity overwhelm me. I flip through the pages edged in gold leaf. I can’t help it.
I shouldn’t.
My own words echoed back in looping cursive jolt me.
He came to my window again. I shouldn’t have let him in, but I did.
“Noah.” My pulse pounds and my finger flies over the page, tracing her secret confessions. “Noah, I don’t think she was taken. Well, not for leverage.”
I hand him the diary and watch his stony face crack as he catches up on all the players. Jules has found herself one dangerous Romeo.
Chapter Five
Zig tosses the diary across the bar to Noah’s dad. “It’s a punk move, but it’s still a move on the club. If he only wanted to get his dick wet, he wouldn’t have left a calling card in her bed.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from talking about wet dicks and my daughter’s bed in the same sentence.”
Zig exhales a cloud of sweet smoke and holds the joint out. “That ship has sailed, old man.”
Pop’s lip curls but he doesn’t follow through with any harsh words. Instead, his shoulders droop and he sighs heavily as he accepts the smoke. “So what’s our play now that we know who has her? Diplomacy? Go in guns blazing?”
Zig looks to Noah. “What do you think?”
“There’s nothing more dangerous than teenagers in love.” Noah drains his beer in two long pulls and slams the bottle. “We can’t underestimate them and we can’t let the Jokers think we’ll let any of this stand. They need to pay.”
I’ve been practicing my inconspicuous look at the end of the bar. So far they’ve forgotten I’m here, and I don’t want to remind them. I’ll get sent to bed. Or worse, get shipped off to the safe house on the back of someone’s bike. But I have to say something. Pay doesn’t mean writing a check. “I know this kid. He used to wash dishes at Jimmy’s. He was a hothead, but he was never violent.”
Noah cups the back of my neck, teasing at the fine hair along my nape. I lean into the warmth of his touch. “He probably wasn’t hooked up with the Jokers when you knew him. An MC can take a man with a short fuse and turn him into a precision weapon.”
All the men look away at that admission. Zig scrubs a hand over his face and rakes at his beard. “He’s probably making his bones with this shit. Stealing the daughter of a former club president, the sister of a current club enforcer, takes some enormous balls. Hugely stupid giant balls. Even if she’s willing to go. Ten bucks says this kid is holed up somewhere with Jules, pissing his pants now that he’s had a chance to think about what he’s done.”
I can imagine that easily—young lovers taking things too far, losing their heads, making a mess they don’t know how to fix. “There’s an abandoned trailer out on county road twenty that the kitchen staff sometimes used for partying. I don’t know if it’s still there, but it’d be my first stop.
Zig looks at me for the first time since we settled at the bar. “Can you show me on the map, honey?”
“Yeah. But it’d be easier to take you.”
Noah’s hand stills and my muscles tense. I’m no longer being petted for meaningful contributions to the conversation. “What part of ‘you are not fucking coming’ is so hard to understand, Star?”
I sit very still, jaw tight. “I’m sorry wanting to help pisses you off so much.”
“Baby, either you’re stupid and you think this is all some kind of game or you want to get yourself killed. I’m pretty sure you’re not stupid.”
“Fuck you.”
Noah’s father whistles through his teeth. “You better get your girl in line, son.”
Your girl. Noah doesn’t correct him, or argue with him. I’m his girl.
I shouldn’t like that right now, but I do. It fills my chest up with something warm and sweet. I hold it there with one deep breath and it lifts me higher than a hit off the joint Noah’s dad and Zig have been passing back and forth. Then Noah’s hand twists into my hair. He’s not quite pulling, just gathering it up enough to tug at my scalp. A reminder of what he can do to me and how I respond. My whole body goes hot—with shame, with embarrassment, and with arousal.
“Fucking me is on the list of acceptable activities.” From the corner of my eye I see Zig studying us both. His bloodshot eyes are narrowed, but there’s a wicked glint in them. Beneath his beard, I’m pretty sure he’s smiling. My cheeks heat even more wondering if it’s my mouth amusing him or Noah’s rough correction. “Along with bringing me food, folding my underwear, and doing what I god damn tell you.”
That stings. Then I remember him bringing me breakfast this morning, carrying the steaming plate from the kitchen and feeding me eggs. What had changed? Only Stone was sitting at the bar with us then. Somehow realizing that this is about saving face pisses me off even more.
“Showing off for your friends?” I hiss. “Don’t worry, your knuckles still drag when you walk.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. God, maybe I have gone stupid. Maybe it’s a contact buzz. His position with the club is in jeopardy and Zig is one of the ones who will be deciding his fate. Have I made him look weak?
Before I can decide if I need to apologize, he pulls me toward him, forcing me to slide off my bar stool and stand awkwardly beside him. Pissing me off all over again.
His mask—cold menace and control—slams firmly back in place. “We’re going to finish this conversation in private.”
Chapter Six
Noah hustles me down the hallway, his hand never leaving my hair. I can feel my own fuse shortening, anger bubbling up to drown out some of the lust. The club is almost empty. Most of the men are moving their loved ones to safety in case of a turf war. They’re unaware that what we’d thought was a kidnapping is a little more ambiguous.
Because his sister is wild and irresponsible. Because she wanted to play on the dark side. And yet I’m the one he’s mad at? No.
He kicks the door shut behind us and releases me. I stumble and land on my knees beside the bed.
“Say what you want in private, but you should know there’s a price to pay for mouthing off to me in public like that.” His belt is off with a whoosh and then his pants are open.
“Gonna shut me up with your cock?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Quit screwing around.”
“You’re a bastard.”
He nods, tucking himself back into his pants. “Not gonna argue that.”
Of course not. How could he? It’s the truth. He grabs me by my shoulders and pulls me up onto the bed. “And I’m not going to apologize for wanting to protect you. You need to learn a few things.”
“Oh yeah? Well you need to learn some things too. You need to learn that I’m a person. A smart person. With ideas and—and—” His stubble grazes the delicate skin of my neck and I draw in a shuddering breath. “That’s not fighting fair.”
“Bastards don’t follow rules.”
“Liar.”
“I follow the rules that suit me. The club suits me. I understand it better than any follow-the-speed-limit closed-after-sunset bullshit. Brotherhood. Loyalty to people who’ve earned it by blood or by deed.” He nips my shoulder—marking me—and forces me to look at him. He’s all dark smile and hooded eyes. “Everyone else can go to hell.”
“Because you’ll send them there?” My voice quivers because I’m thinking about Harry. I can’t help it. And the kid I used to work with who’s obviously stupid and dangerous but possibly in love with Jules.
Noah moves so fast I barely have time to gasp before I’m on my back. He’s hovering over me, hands planted on either side of my body, face inches from mine.
“They find their own way. Drugs, gambling—you think we picked Harry up on his way to teach Sunday school? Shit. None of them are innocent.” His breath fans hot against my cheek and then he brings his mouth to my ear, stubble and velvet skin tickling me as he whispers. “And if a little lost kitten lands in my path, do you know what I do?”
I lick my lips and squirm beneath him. He’s talking about me now and I think I know the answer he wants. The one that paints him a monster. You eat it. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue. But it’s a lie.
“You snarl. And you growl.” I buck my hips up, grinding against the knee he’s got planted between my legs. “And you tell them to run.”
“But you didn’t.” He collapses on top of me, crushing me with his body. Every inch of him is a burden I will gladly bear.
“Kittens rarely do what you tell them to do.” I push until he lifts up enough that I can see his face. “I’m not a kitten, Noah. I’m not innocent. I’ve done things…” I squeeze my eyes shut, unwilling to face my own darkness. “My mother’s boyfriends. Sometimes I let them—it was easier than explaining a bloody lip or—or—worse. When I left, I stole her rent money from a coffee can under the sink. Just like the one I have now. And Officer Wade—”
“Baby. Stop.”
My stomach, already churning with fear and disgust at my confessions, drops. Even he doesn’t want to hear what I’ve done. I turn my face into the pillow. “Loyalty, family. Those are what you believe in and I didn’t have a drop of loyalty for mine.”
“Family may get loyalty by default, but they sure as hell can lose it. You should’ve been protected.” He grips my chin and pulls me back to face him. His lips are so soft against mine. It’s barely a kiss.
“I’m not innocent. I’m not loyal. And I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut. How can you possibly still want me?”
“You’re a survivor, Star. You’re brave and strong. Wild and sweet. You’re sexy as hell and you’re mine. How could I not want you?”
This rhythm is even easier. The one where he caresses my face. The one where he rolls us over until I’m sprawled on top of him. The one where he pins me tight to his chest and our hearts thump against each other.
I slip my hand under his shirt and slide my fingers over the ridges of his abdomen, up the hard planes of his pecs. I want to touch that crazy thunder and feel the heat of him without any barrier between us. He covers my hand with his own, holding me there.
I know we can’t stay like this much longer.
Outside of Noah’s room, chaos waits to claim us. But for a moment we have stillness. We have peace. Together.
There’s a buzzing against my hip, and just like that the moment is over. Noah jostles me to the side so he can pull the phone from his pocket. “Your ride to the safe house is here.”
“I don’t want to leave you—” He tenses beneath me. “Not because I think I can help. I know I can’t do anything. It’s just…I’m afraid I won’t see you again.”
“Maybe you won’t, but I promise I’ll be trying my damnedest to get back to you.”
Chapter Seven
A big black truck with a wrecked bike on the flatbed idles in front of the club. The hood is covered in stylized flames surrounding a silver logo. DH Towing.
The wind shifts and—along with the twangy country music rolling out of the open windows—I’m struck with the scent of exhaust and stale body odor. Before I take two more steps toward it, my skin crawls. I know who’s behind the wheel. Dale, with his filthy beard and portable spittoon.
I can’t get in the cab with him. I cannot.
Noah squeezes my hand. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t send you alone with Dale. Stone’s going with you too. They’ll drop you off and head back to catch up with us. Pick up any wrecks we leave in our wake.”
“Is that Stone’s bike?” I try not to think about Noah, battered and broken, clinging to a hunk of twisted metal on the side of the road. “This doesn’t feel right.”
“It isn’t supposed to.”
Noah kisses my forehead. Warmth suffuses me, chasing away some of the dread roiling in my belly.
The passenger door pops open and Stone waves me up. “See what a good guy I am? I’m sitting bitch so you don’t have to snuggle this dirty bastard.”
“Thank you, I guess.”
One last kiss, one last touch, and Noah boosts me up. I grab the handle by the seat and hoist myself the rest of the way. Noah swats my ass and slaps the side of the truck. “Remember. Keep ’em to yourself, motherfucker, or I’ll take my boot to your clutch hand.”
Stone laughs. “I know the drill.”
Dale grunts and I refuse to look at him. Noah and Stone may not have a problem with him, but after what he said in the meeting this morning I certainly do. Never mind the fact that he creeps me out.
The cab of the truck is too warm, even with both windows rolled down. Two big men crowding the enclosed space, both smokers and drinkers, one of them looking very much like a shower isn’t part of his daily routine.
I lean as close to the open passenger side window as I can without hanging my head outside like a pet. It’s hard to resist.
Stone stays true to his word and keeps his hands planted firmly on his own thighs.
“Where are we going?”
Dale snorts. “Wouldn’t be very safe if we told anyone who asked, would it?”
“It’s not like you’ve got a bag over my head. I’m going to see when we get there.”
Stone elbows me in the ribs. “Don’t give him ideas.”
We ride along the familiar stretch of highway in silence. When Dale takes the exit that leads to Jimmy’s Diner, I shift in my seat. Stone’s body goes rigid beside me. “What’s going on, brother?”
“Gotta take a leak.”
“You can’t wait another fifteen minutes?”
“Wouldn’t be stopping if I could, now would I?”
I scrunch down in my seat. It’s surreal to be heading back to Jimmy’s now. Has the anger over me not showing up for work turned into fear for my wellbeing yet? It usually takes a few days around here. One or two days could too easily be a bender. I suppose I could call this a bender, except instead of booze I’ve been drunk on lust. Only all that lust has turned into something more. Not quite love, but it feels like it
could be someday.
Dale parks us on the side of the restaurant and leaves the truck running when he hops out. “Stay put. I’ll drain the snake and grab some pie.”
Neither of us respond to him. I guess he’s beneath contempt for both of us.
Sitting outside Jimmy’s reminds me of how abruptly I’d left.
I didn’t say goodbye to a soul. I didn’t have anyone I was really close to, but I’d gone out with the girls more than a few times. We chatted about our lives and our troubles in between customers. Sometimes we gossiped about each other. We bickered and fought like siblings. They were kind of a family for me too.
I could say goodbye now. Or at least see if anyone has missed me. But I doubt a trip down memory lane is a good excuse for leaving the car when I’m technically on lock down.
I turn to Stone, whose eyes are fixed on the road that runs parallel to the diner. “Would it be all right if I ran in to see if they’re holding my paycheck? Real fast. While Dale’s still inside.”
It isn’t an outright lie. They very well might be holding my paycheck. Not that I’d make a special trip for my below-minimum-wage earnings. My checks usually run between twenty and eighty dollars for well over full time, thanks to tips and the inhumane wage the state lets businesses pay servers. I hold my breath.
Stone doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Yeah. But be quick about it.”
I’m out of the cab like a shot before he can change his mind and before Dale can come back out.
I’ll just say hi to the girls and let them know I’m still alive in case they were wondering. No big deal.
The bells tinkle over the front door, announcing my entrance.
The restaurant is eerily quiet. Only one customer in the whole place. A sad old man with his sad old pot roast special. Dale is nowhere to be seen.