Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  Isabella smiled. “So you’re going to be sticking around?”

  “For a while,” said Heath. “Like I said, I have business.”

  Eli grimaced. “How wonderful.”

  And then there was more awkward silence.

  Cathy smiled at him. “I’m not going to believe it tomorrow. I’m going to think it was all a dream.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a shame,” said Eli.

  She stirred her daiquiri, which was mostly melted by now. And nearly empty.

  Heath pushed his toward her. “Would you like mine? It looks like you’re almost out. And I’m going to be driving, so it’s probably not smart for me to have too much to drink.”

  “Oh… I…”

  “She can’t drink that,” said Eli.

  “She can’t?” Heath looked at Eli, mild amusement on his face. “I’d think she’d be able to decide for herself, wouldn’t she? Or do you give her permission for everything these days? For instance, if I asked her if she wanted to go on a drive with me—”

  “She can’t drink alcohol.” Eli smiled at Heath—a smug, self-satisfied smile. “Because of the baby.”

  Heath stiffened.

  “My baby,” said Eli.

  Heath glanced at her, and she saw that his calm demeanor had melted away. He looked completely shaken. At least for that instant. Then he looked away from her, and he was calm again. “Really.”

  “Tell him, Cathy,” said Eli.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said dully.

  Heath looked down at his hands. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  More silence.

  Cathy cleared her throat. “I would go on a drive with you, though. I’m sure Eli would understand that you’re a very dear, old friend, and that we have a lot to catch up on.”

  Heath curled his lips into something like a sneer. “Well, maybe it would be too much excitement for you. In your delicate condition.”

  She was stunned. He didn’t want to see her anymore? She looked up at him, hurt.

  He met her gaze fiercely, angrily.

  She had to look away. She realized what the hard thing was that was hidden in his black eyes. It was hate. He hated her. And it was like something inside her had broken.

  Heath stood up. “I’ve imposed on you too much. I’ll be going.”

  “Oh, too bad,” said Eli, grinning.

  Heath turned and walked away. On the other side of the pool, he turned back around. “I might come by tomorrow. If you wouldn’t mind my company.”

  Eli clenched his jaw.

  Cathy’s heart leapt. Maybe he didn’t hate her after all.

  “That would be great,” said Isabella.

  Heath smiled. “Have a lovely afternoon.”

  *

  Cathy shrugged her nightgown over her head. She was standing inside the closet in the room she shared with Eli.

  “You’ve been quiet all afternoon.” Eli was lying on the bed wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.

  She looked at his bare chest, and she thought of Heath, and how virile and powerful he had seemed—hulking under his civilized clothes, like a beast dressed in silk. Eli was beautiful, she’d always thought so, but he was lean and sinewy, not burly. “Sorry,” she said.

  “You’re thinking about him.”

  She shrugged. “I’m happy to see him. We were very close friends.”

  Eli snorted. “Friends. You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

  She lay down next to him on the bed. “Of course not. I don’t think anything like that about you.” She put a hand on his chest. He was smooth and hairless, and she ran her fingers over his satin skin.

  He caught her hand, stopping its movement. “When he left, you weren’t yourself for months. Maybe you thought I didn’t notice, but I did. You were a shell. You barely ate, you barely smiled. I had to force you to go back to school.”

  She rolled onto her back, extricating herself from his grasp. She hardly remembered that period of time in her life. She thought perhaps that her mind had wiped it away because the trauma was too much for her. “And that’s when I knew how much I needed you. You were so good to me, and I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

  “He wasn’t just a friend, Cathy. We both know that.” He sighed. “I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t know him the way I do.”

  “I think I know him well enough. I think you don’t see him clearly. I think he left you to punish you for choosing me. He’s got a cruel streak, and I don’t think he cares about you. Not the way I do.”

  “He’s only a friend, Eli. It doesn’t matter who cares more about me. I’m your girlfriend. We’re having a baby together. You don’t have to be insecure.”

  “I’m not insecure.” Eli was defensive. He rolled over on his side and gathered her into his arms. “Well, okay, it’s nice to hear you say that. I have to admit that I thought he’d snap his fingers for you, and you’d run to him.”

  She snuggled into him, breathing in his mix of soap and deodorant. He always smelled so clean and fresh. “I didn’t. I’m here.”

  But Heath hadn’t wanted her, either. She’d seen that look in his eyes. Eli was right. There was a cruel, vicious part of Heath. She’d seen him throw her own father down the steps. Admittedly, Heath had done it to protect her, but he’d never shown even the slightest bit of regret for his actions.

  Eli’s hand stroked her skin, bringing her back to the present and away from thoughts of Heath. He kissed her, and she felt delight wash through her. Eli made her feel grounded and safe. He tethered her to the world. She was in love with him.

  She opened her mouth to him and deepened their kiss.

  His fingers traveled over her body to the hem of her nightgown. He gathered the fabric into a fist and eased it up over her thighs and hips, baring her stomach. He put his hand over the small swell of her belly.

  She sighed. She loved it when he touched her like that.

  He lowered his mouth, kissing her stomach. “Go to sleep, little one. Mommy and Daddy have things to do that you shouldn’t see.”

  She giggled, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You’re so silly, Eli.”

  He kissed her, his hands traveling inside her nightgown to find her breasts. “You love how silly I am.”

  She gasped. “I do. I love it.”

  His fingers found her nipples, stroking and teasing them stiff with the expertise that only came from the fact that he knew her body so well.

  She gasped again, her breath getting labored. Since getting pregnant, her breasts had been so sensitive and tender, and even the slightest touch was magnified. What he was doing felt very nice.

  She helped him pull her nightgown over her head. He put his mouth on her breasts, his tongue nudging her wetly, making pleasure run through her, making her feel tight and warm between her legs.

  She ran her fingers over his bare skin, over his wiry muscles, slick and sinuous under her touch.

  His mouth traveled down her body. He peeled away her underwear and planted a kiss on the skin he’d bared.

  She shuddered.

  There were different kinds of love, she mused as his mouth moved between the lips of her sex. There were loves that came on you fast and fierce, like raging fire. They burned everything in their wake and left you empty and dead afterwards. Then there were slower loves, loves that required tending, like a tiny campfire. They built slowly, and you had to watch them, feed them kindling and blow on them. But eventually, they burned bright and bold as well. And they gave off a warmth that sustained life rather than destroying it.

  Her love for Eli was a slow growing fire. It had started weakly, but it was real now, and it made her happy. She didn’t want to lose it.

  He dragged his tongue over her, and she cried out. “I love you, Eli,” she gasped. “So, so much.”

  *

  “I’ll raise,” said Heath, eyeing Matt over his cards. They were in the tenant house, and the game of poker they were pla
ying was down to the two of them.

  Matt was drunk. He reached for his beer and nearly knocked it over. One of the other men who’d dropped out of the game handed it to him.

  There were at least four other guys there, watching the two of them.

  “How much?” said Matt.

  Heath put down two chips. He insisted on using the chips when he played poker these days. They were an important part of the experience. Playing with real money made it too real. Using the chips removed reality by a step. It was easier to bet a chip than a wad of cash.

  Matt looked down at his own stack of chips, which were woefully depleted. But he had enough.

  Heath had made sure not to bet more that Matt had. Not yet, anyway. He smiled.

  Matt belched and wavered a little bit where he was sitting. Then, with lurching movements, he shoved forward his chips. “I’ll see that.”

  Heath was dealing. He took a card off the deck and put it face up in front of Matt, and then put one face up in front of himself.

  Matt’s was the King of Diamonds.

  Heath’s was the seven of spades.

  Matt crowed. “See that, gypsy? You’re at home now, and I can still put you in your place.”

  Heath chuckled. He doubted that. He studied his fingernails. “I am back at home, Matt. And we both know the only reason you’re letting me play cards with you is because you like my money. And because you’re a crazy drunk, just like your father.”

  Matt sniffed. “Don’t insult me.”

  “Sorry. That was rude of me, wasn’t it?” Heath took a drink of his beer. “Say, Matt, do you remember my truck?”

  “Truck.” Matt furrowed his brow.

  “Yeah,” said Heath. “The one your father gave me. The one that you took from me after he died. That one.”

  Matt grinned at him. “Sure, I remember that truck. It’s still parked in the garage.”

  “Really,” said Heath. “You want to make this final bet a little more interesting? How ‘bout, if I win, I leave your money, and I take the truck back.”

  “What if I win?” said Matt.

  Heath slid the rest of his chips into the pot.

  Matt looked down at the King of Diamonds. He giggled. “You’re a stupid fuck, Heath. Always were.”

  “Oh, undoubtedly,” said Heath. “I’m just a stupid gypsy.” He took another drink of his beer.

  “You’re on,” said Matt.

  And they uncovered their cards.

  Matt’s smile faded.

  Heath sat back. “I’ll take the keys to my truck, Matt.”

  Matt shrugged. “Sure, fine. It’s an old piece of junk anyway.”

  “It’s a start,” said Heath. “Just so you understand, Matt, I’m going to get back everything you stole from me. And then I’m going to steal everything else from you. And there’s not going to be a damned thing you can do about it.”

  Matt laughed. “Big talk, gypsy trash. But right now, all you got is a beat-up truck.”

  Heath just smiled. That wasn’t all he had. He also had Matt Earnshaw exactly where he wanted him.

  ***

  2013

  Eli banged on the door of the farmhouse. “Give me back my daughter, you son of a bitch!”

  The door opened, and Eli found himself face to face with Linton Galloway. Eli took a step backwards. The boy was a Linton from his head to his toe. It was incredible how little he looked like Heath.

  “Linton,” sputtered Eli. “It’s you.”

  Linton smiled, and then Eli saw his father in him. That was Heath’s cruel, empty smile. “Hello, Uncle. My father says he doesn’t want you to come inside. You understand, I’m sure, after you falsely accused him of kidnapping?”

  “Falsely…” Eli could hardly speak, he was so frustrated. “He’s got her here, and we both know it.”

  “Who?” said Linton, still grinning.

  Then Eli noticed the faint outline of a bruise on Linton’s face. Heath’s handiwork, no doubt. “Listen, Linton, I know he’s got you twisted around his little finger. I know you must be afraid of him. But if you help me get my Thera out of here, I swear I will take you far away from him. You’ll never have to see him again.”

  Linton leaned up against the doorjamb. “You’d save me then? Help me get away from him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Too late now, Uncle. Maybe if you’d kept me from him after my mother died, like you tried to do. I was young then.” He shrugged. “Father says he wonders if someone like you could have made a good boy out of me.”

  Eli swallowed. He was realizing that there was something… off about Linton. It made his skin crawl.

  Linton smiled, but his eyes just gazed out hollowly. “But you didn’t save me, did you? No, you’ve never been able to stand up to my father. You’re really pathetic, aren’t you?”

  Eli clenched his hands into fists. “Just tell me where she is.”

  “She’s tucked away,” said Linton. “Father says I can do things to her if I want. He says I can do anything—”

  “I never said that,” said Heath, knocking the boy away from the doorway. “I think you have sick dreams, Linton. You imagine what you want to hear coming out of my mouth. I don’t want Catherine hurt.”

  “Heath,” said Eli.

  “Lovely to see you, Eli. As always.” Heath raised sardonic eyebrows.

  “Give her back, Heath. You’ve made your point.”

  “I don’t think I have,” said Heath. “How long have I had her here? Days?”

  “Give her back.”

  “How long did you have Cathy?” said Heath. “Years, wasn’t it? I think you’re only beginning to feel a fraction of the pain I felt.”

  Eli dragged a hand over his face. “We both lost Cathy, Heath. She’s dead. You can’t blame me for that.”

  “Well, it was your baby that killed her.”

  “She wasn’t supposed to be out of bed,” said Eli. “You had her out in that storm. If anyone’s to blame—”

  “Don’t,” said Heath. “I don’t think it would be wise to make me angry right now. After all, I do have your daughter. And Linton has some very… interesting ideas about ways he’d like to get to know her.”

  Eli felt powerless. Goddamn Heath. He always made Eli feel powerless. He wished he had the strength, the courage…

  Eli advanced on Heath. “So help me, if you hurt her, I will kill you.”

  Heath laughed. “Oh, that’s more like it, Eli. I do love the way you get when you’re angry. It’s really adorable.”

  Eli grabbed Heath by the collar.

  Heath’s hands wrapped around Eli’s. They were so strong, Eli felt like Heath might crush the bones in his fingers. It was all he could do to keep from crying out in pain.

  Heath’s voice was soft. “How does it feel? How does it feel knowing that I’ve got her, and you can’t get to her? Tell me it makes you miserable. Tell me it makes you half-mad with frustration. Tell me it hurts.”

  “Yes,” choked Eli. Heath was still squeezing his hands.

  “Good.” Heath released him. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. “Oh, hello, there. I want to report an intruder on my property. He’s making wild accusations, and I’d like him arrested.”

  *

  Thera struggled in Gage’s grasp, as she watched the police escort her father away from the farmhouse. Gage had let her see him in the window after she’d begged and begged. But then he’d clamped his hand over her mouth when she’d tried to yell at him.

  She was exhausted from trying to break free of Gage. She felt hot tears leak out of her eyes. She was amazed she still had any left in her. She’d cried so often since she got here.

  She went limp against Gage.

  The police car drove away.

  He let her go.

  She pushed at him. “You know, if you’re going to grab onto me like that all the time, you could think about taking a bath every once and a while, because you stink.”

  Gage shoved his h
ands into his pockets. “If you’d calm down and stop fighting so much, it wouldn’t be so bad for you, you know?”

  She laughed in disbelief. “Oh, sure. I’ll just get comfortable here with my kidnappers. You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Gage told her through clenched teeth. He headed for the door. “You’re exactly like Linton.”

  “I’m nothing like him. He’s horrible. He hurts people for fun, and I…”

  “Only insult me in retaliation?” said Gage. “Well, then you’re like Heath. He’s always got to get his revenge.”

  “I’m not trying to get revenge. I’m trying to get away,” she said.

  “Oh, okay,” said Gage. “So, how does calling me names help you get away again?”

  “Shut up and leave me alone.”

  Gage readjusted the brim of his baseball cap and went to the door to her room. Hand on the knob, he stopped. “You haven’t been hurt in any way, have you?”

  She glared at them. “What?”

  “Neither of them has hit you or cut you or anything like that.”

  She drew back in horror. “Are they going to?”

  “Never mind.” He yanked open the door. Then he looked at her. “If they try, you can yell for me, you know?”

  And then he shut the door in her face.

  ***

  1995

  Heath opened the door of the tenant house and found Cathy outside, flushed and nervous. It was late at night, and he’d been in bed. He was only wearing a pair of boxers. The only air conditioner in the tenant house was barely working these days, and it was too hot for any more clothes.

  Her gaze flitted over his body, all his bare skin. She moistened her lips.

  “Let me put something on,” said Heath. He walked away from the open door.

  When he came back downstairs, she was standing in the middle of the living room, looking at the empty beer cans that had been left behind after the poker game.