Burned by Abi (Devil Savages MC Book 2)

by Harley McRide

  Tonka’s eyes narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Mmm,” he groaned. Abi widened her eyes, wincing when the pain shot through to her brain from the lumps that were the size of mountains now.

  “What’s that look for?” she watched, waiting for some asshole remark. Instead, he got up and walked around the bar. The tequila too strong for him now? What the hell was that look for? It was almost…flirtatious? Fuck no. It’s the alcohol, that’s all. I need to go home. When he returned with a glass of what looked to be whiskey on ice, she settled with her hand on her chin, chastising herself. How the hell was she still attracted to him? After all these years? No way. It was because she hadn’t been laid in awhile, and chalked it up to high hormones. Not one to ever be one of those chicks who fawned on any guy who showed her attention, she had to build her guards back up good and tight before she said something stupid. Fuckin’ booze. He was a familiar, friendly face. That was all. Hell, Sledge hadn’t even seen her since she’d been back, except in passing to ‘tell’ her she was going to live with their sister as soon as she got a job and on her feet. Which, she had no intention of doing. Their sister moved a state away after marrying at eighteen, only reason Sledge didn't kill her husband-to-be back then was because he'd been the son of one of their mom's closest friends. And their brother, he joined the service after high school and never returned, they got phone calls and letters from him. Neither wanted to stay in the area, they hadn't felt the pull to stay like she and Sledge. Even though he spent most of his time trying to get her away, the pull always brought her back.

  Tonka picked up a cube of ice and pressed it under her eye, scolding her when she jerked away. “Hold still dammit.” When she pulled back again, he slid his other hand behind her head and held her still, tugging her hair when she tried to move. When she opened her mouth to unleash the gates of hell, he quirked an eyebrow. “I said hold the fuck still. You don’t wanna end up looking like fuckin’ Ironman do you?”

  Abi snorted, shaking her head. “You guys need to lay off him. He’s good lookin’ under all the scars and shit.” She turned her head, spotting him across the room. All of the guys made comments about him being an ugly motherfucker, but he wasn’t at all. He’d seen his share of fights, blades, and gunshot wounds, but it made him look tougher in her opinion, not disfigured. He was a total asshole, but who wouldn’t be after the shit he caught from everyone? She felt the sharp sting of Tonka pulling her hair, bringing her head back around. “What the fuck!” she growled.

  “I said hold still.” He moved the ice to the next lumpy bump and slicked the ice over her skin. She sucked in a breath through her teeth when the water hit the open cut but gritted her teeth, turning the pain inwards. “So, care to share what this is about?”

  Tonka? Was that concern? No way in hell. Only because he knew Sledge was gonna ask him later… Well, she wasn’t in the sharing mood. Her brother could suck a dick.

  “Nope.” She pulled away hard enough he released her, tossing the ice into the bar sink while she took another pull off the bottle.

  At the rate she was going, her pounding hangover would drown out the soreness come morning. But he didn’t push. He’d been in worse shape more times than he could count. There was nothing worse than having to admit you’d had your ass handed to you after getting the fuck kicked out of you. If she needed to save the last shred of her pride, so be it. At the rate she was chugging down the bottle that was now well below the top of the label, sooner or later she’d need help—at least to get home.

  “So, glad to be done with college?” His question was more of a test to see how drunk she was getting, but aside from that, he still grasped at the big brother/little sister idea to keep his dick in check. Fuck if she wasn’t the hottest woman in the room. His ideas of a kinky night with a willing bitch went out the window. How was he supposed to keep going on like this? It was as if the forces of the universe were against him blowing his load. He groaned inwardly in self-pity, hating the idea of rubbing one out yet again. Then again, it was pretty slim pickings again tonight. The new tail had been claimed before he’d even arrived. Sure, he could veto their claim and just take one, but who wanted half ass sloppy seconds? Or, by this time of night, third or fourths…and he more than likely would be driving Ms. Daisy home tonight. Apple juice looked a lot like Jack, so chances of her catching on to his sudden change of beverage were slim.

  Abi’s expression went blank momentarily before she caught herself and her usual stone cold expression returned. “Yeah. I’m not the college type. Keg parties, dumbasses doing stupid shit to get a buzz…snobby clicks…no thanks. But, I got what I went for.” So what if that wasn’t the education they all thought she’d finished? She tried her brother’s idea of how she should live her life. It didn’t work. So she found her own way…in the octagon. There wasn’t anything else she’d rather do, and come hell or high water, she’d end up fighting the best of the best and earn the championship title. If they didn’t like it, fuck them.

  “I didn’t figure you would.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he took a drink from his glass. She drank relentlessly, putting away more and faster than most of the guys in the room could without falling flat on the floor. Damn she was something.

  “So, don’t you have a whore to bag? Why are you hanging with me? Did Sledge put you on diaper duty since he obviously isn’t here?”

  “Nope. Haven’t talked to him. I’m somewhat surprised he hasn’t showed up tonight.”

  “I’m not. He’s been seeing the neighbor chick. He sneaks out at night after he thinks I’m asleep…like I’m thirteen again. I guess I’m still supposed to think my brother doesn’t have sex.”

  “Cut him some slack. He has to adjust to you being the grownup, independent, sexy woman you’ve become.” Yeah, he went there. But he didn’t elaborate how painfully hard his cock had been since he’d watched her walk in, so that was a plus right? Fuck, she was mind—fucking him too. He didn’t drool over women, they fell over themselves for a chance at riding the bull. Then again, Abi wasn’t an ordinary club rat or bitch either… And she definitely wasn’t a stuffy vanilla waitress or random hot ass off the street. She knew what he was—who he was—so it should’ve made him stay away that much more. Maybe Yo Neg’s sorry ass was rubbing off on him.

  Abi’s head was starting to fuzz delightfully, but she could have sworn Tonka had called her sexy. Not a hot piece of ass, or fuckable tail, but sexy. What the fuck was up with that? She didn’t want to think anymore. It’d been a long day, and nothing was going to ruin her night. The fight had set her free once again, giving her the calmness nothing else could provide. She was damn sure going to enjoy it while it lasted. With two weeks until her next card, it was best to pace herself. Emotions were sneaky little bastards, and she had no time for them. Who the hell wanted to? Feelings and shit were stupid, and she had better things to do than worry and overanalyze every aspect of her life. Just because she wanted to lick every inch of the man didn't mean she was going to do it. If she let him know she wanted him, well, the big brother shit would crush her so she would lay low and all would be fine. It had to be. She knew what she wanted and it wasn't to be tied down by a man. At least that is what she was sticking to. With a subtle shake of her head at her own inner dialect, she drank some more. If she was still able to form coherent thoughts and rationalize bullshit, she hadn’t drank enough.

  Tonka fought the urge to take the damn bottle away. It was a given that she’d end up spewing everywhere any time now or wind up with alcohol poison—whichever came first. He knew Abi, and strongholding her into doing something wasn’t the way to go. So, when she swayed on her stool a few times, he reached over and took it like he was going to take a drink. The brief moment their fingers brushed, Abi gasped. If she came on to him now, he might as well cut his cock off. There was no way he’d be able to resist her long. This time, she was drunk. Next time? What excuse could he make then? Not that he wasn’t guilty of pounding a few ov
erly inebriated women that may or may not have blacked out mid-stroke, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t let their intentions be known before the drinking began. He didn’t feel guilty for it. They were trashy whores who wanted to fuck, plain and simple. Abi on the other hand, may have put that off when she’d been with Yo Neg, but nobody would ever assume with her. She was as straightforward as they came and he’d kill anyone who put a hand on her without permission. Sledge wouldn’t have to worry, because there would be nothing left of the pieces. Why the fuck do I care? She’s a sister. I’m being a brother. That’s it. Son-of-a-bitch! So, am I Joe fuckin’ Dirt now? Jamie Presley as Jill’s voice echoed through his thoughts, ‘I’m your sister! I’m your sister!’ He groaned out loud, not giving a flying damn who heard or what Abi might have thought.

  “Come on.” He didn’t wait for her confused look to catch up to her brain as to what he wanted. Instead, he helped her off the stool and to her feet before leading her out the door. He turned left toward his truck, figuring his bike wasn’t a good idea given her inability to walk.

  “Where’re we going?” she slurred as he opened the door to help her in. In the past few minutes, the alcohol had slammed her system and hit like a ton of bricks. She went from slightly buzzed to drunk off her sexy little ass, quick.

  “I’m taking you home. Come on, get in.” Abi turned and wound her arms around his neck, leaning against him. He stiffened, unsure what the hell to do. This was Abi. Sledge’s sister. What the hell kind of fucked up shit was the universe throwing him?

  “Mmm. Back to your place?” She clumsily raised up on her toes to kiss him. The moment their lips touched he tried to peel her off but it was no use. If he pulled too hard she’d end up on her ass in the grass. While he was busy focused on untangling her arms she went in for the kill, laying one on him. At first he resisted, but it didn’t last. He was a man, and she was one hell of a woman. A woman he’d resisted for a long fuckin’ time. He dropped his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter against him abruptly, making her gasp. She seemed to like a little bit rougher touch, because the next thing he knew, she had her tongue working his mouth in ways he’d never imagined possible. Before he knew what was happening, he had one hand woven in her hair and the other planted on her ass, returning her drunken enthusiasm. Then it hit him. She was drunk. He yanked back, swooping her up in his arms while she was still stunned and put her in the truck. “Fuck, Abi. You’re smashed. Let’s get you home.” When she went to protest he shut the door and walked around the back to collect himself before getting in. What in damn hell was fate and all that shit doing to him?

  He shook it off, hating himself for the sudden ‘good guy’ she’d made him become. But fuck! It was Abi! With a grunt, he loaded himself into the driver’s seat and shut the door, remaining silent while he maneuvered out of the overfull parking lot. She tried speaking a few times in mumbles but he ignored her, praying she’d pass out—which eventually she did. By the time he pulled up at Sledge’s trailer she was snoring like a freight train. Sledge’s bike was nowhere in sight, and not at the neighbors thankfully. He hated to have to explain why the hell he was bringing in Sledge’s baby sister beat to shit, passed out, and reeking of booze. He snickered, glancing over at her. “What are you doing, girl.”

  Tonka pulled the door handle and stepped out, deciding it best to get her inside and the hell out of there before Sledge returned. It didn’t take long to carry her small frame into the shithole considering the door didn’t lock, and passed the crappy ratty couch. “Damn, Sledge needs to get his head out of his ass. You don’t need to be living like this. Hell, no one does.” With the toe of his boot he pushed open the back bedroom door and laid her on the bed. The sweet scent of violets caught his senses and he looked around, shocked at how much she’d changed the room. Still no mistaking it was the same dump as the rest of the house, but she’d done a good scrub job on it and used purple and black linens and curtains that gave it a clean feel. He tucked her in again, hesitant to leave. If the front door didn’t lock, and the damn wall could probably be kicked in, what stopped someone from entering? In the shape she was in, she'd be unable to defend herself, plus with the shit going on with the Diablos, none of them were safe. What the hell was Sledge thinking?

  Chapter Four

  Unable to leave her unprotected because of his conscience, Tonka reluctantly found a clean sheet and draped it over the couch, and took a spot, exhausted. He’d originally planned to find where Sledge’s ass was and head home, but the longer he rolled it over, the more he fought the urge to stay. His rationality was, if he saw her all banged up she’d need a buffer. His subconscious taunted him for being a pussy, but he tried to ignore it. With a beer in hand, he kicked off his boots and flipped on the television, contemplating sleep. His mind went a mile a minute, from the situation with the Diablos to the hot mess in the back bedroom and in some kind of trouble. What, he didn’t know. Given the way her face looked, it was pretty serious. Why did she have to come back now? Things were worse than they’d ever been. Dirty drugs were everywhere. Every day there were more reports of overdoses and deaths from the shit they were pumping in. Robbery was at an all time high, and rape cases were taking a new trend. It was sickening. And after the latest information Tonto passed to them after speaking to the Ops Warriors Prez, Creed, about the sick fuck who was running the Diablos in their area, made it worse. Dominic Reyes was one sick bastard, evidently hell bent on making his sister's life, one of the Bitches for the Ops, a living nightmare. He was going to regret his life choices when all was said and done, but until then Tonto wasn't willing to take the chance. The more he thought about it, the more he refused to leave her alone. But shit, he couldn’t stay by her side all the time. Maybe Tonto would agree to move her to the clubhouse? No, she wasn’t a member, and not a bitch, but she was family none the less. The hard part would be convincing her. Shit. As if that would go over good… Unless…

  Tonka flipped open his cell and punched in a text, tossing it on the milk crate coffee table. There was no way Tonto would get back to him tonight, not with the party in full swing. So, there wasn’t much else he could do tonight. After flipping through the channels a few more times he finally felt tired enough to pass out and leaned back, propping his feet up on the arm of the couch. Fuck if this wasn’t the most unideal place to have to sleep. Not only did the couch reek of beer, cigarettes, and God knew what, it was a good three feet too short and his shoulders barely fit on the cushions. For a half a second, he thought about taking Sledge’s bed, but remembered the hoards of women he’d filled to the brim on it and probably still had the same sheets and blankets on it. He’d take the lumpy ass couch over sticking to the bed like a fuckin’ flytrap any day.

  After tossing and turning for another hour and a half at least, he finally managed to doze off. After what seemed like only a few minutes his phone went off, waking him. “What the fuck!” he growled. With one eye barely open, his blood rushing in his ears, and his body protesting in every way, he grabbed the irritating hunk of metal and answered. “What!”

  “Hey, got your message. Meet me this afternoon.” Tonto. How the hell was he up at—Tonka checked the time on his phone—six-thirty in the fuckin’ morning?

  “Fine. See you then.” Without waiting for an answer he hung up, tossing it in the general direction he’d retrieved it from. It clunked to the floor but not really something he cared to give a shit about right now.

  *****

  Tonka woke up to a quiet house, searched for his discarded phone and looked at the time—almost eleven. There was no doubt Abi was still sleeping off the hangover coma from hell, but he wanted to peek in on her to make sure. When he cracked open her door, he hadn’t expected to see her out of the covers and wearing nothing but her panties and shirt. When she’d gotten up to undress, he didn’t know. Fuck if he didn’t stand there looking a little longer than he should have. Her legs went on for miles. As he admired each tanned, toned inch, his eyes spotted multiple dark
blue and black bruises. Shit. She was covered. Whoever did this, did a number on her. Before the gates of hell opened up and swallowed him hole for perving out while she slept, he quietly shut the door and went to shower. With any luck, the hot water would wash away some of the soreness from that fucking couch.

  *****

  Abi woke still half drunk and needing to pee. Bad. In a stumbling stupor hangover buzz, she felt her way through the hall to the bathroom door, opting to keep her eyes closed and the light out. The sunlight was one evil bastard, sent from the heavens as a punishment for those who spent the night chugging liquid sin. Add in her stiff muscles and sore tender flesh, she wanted to crawl into a coma and wait it out.

  As she opened the door, she heard the shower. Shit, Sledge. Not giving a damn she went on in, concentrating more on making it to the toilet before her bladder burst like a water balloon. Without thinking, she flushed when she was done and heard a sling of cuss words coming from the shower followed by the curtain slinging open and a very pissed off Tonka?

  “What the hell? You trying to scald my ass?” With his nakedness fully exposed and no regard for his junk hanging out, he glared at her.

  “Dammit, don’t yell, fucker.” Her hands flew up to her head, clutching it tightly. The pressure probably didn’t help, but putting up a physical barrier between her head and everything else seemed to ease the pounding enough she opened her eyes again and stared. Still standing in the wide open, his dick half erect, Tonka’s gaze didn’t falter.

  Even in pain she noticed his body was fine, and her clit suddenly reminded her she hadn't been laid in a while as it seemed to have its own pulse, which was weirdly keeping beat with the thumping in her head. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd pay money for someone to cut off her head about now but her bottom half of her body was loosening like it was preparing for the sight in front of them. Tonka's voice broke her out of her body's little conundrum.