We make our way back onto the highway. Instead of taking the long way home, like we were before, he heads south. When we pass through Dallas, I know it will only be a matter of hours before we make it to the clubhouse. I tap on his shoulder because I’m starving and could use the lady’s room. “I’m hungry and need to pee!” I scream out loud enough for him to hear me over the wind and noise of the open road.
He nods his head and continues on for another twenty minutes. Typical man. I mean, I suppose he might have good enough reason considering danger possibly does lurk. But, twenty minutes more of holding my bladder feels like an eternity. We are outside of the city limits now and pull into a small mom-and-pop style diner. Removing the strap on my helmet, I place it on the seat and rush into the building. I wasn’t joking about how bad I needed to relieve myself. I look out the window as I rush to the back and see him still straddling his bike, lighting up a cigarette. For as good of shape he’s in, it boggles the mind how he can maintain that physique yet eat wrong and have some bad habits. According to what I semi-consciously remember this morning he woke me up once grunting with his sit-ups and push-ups. Luckily for me, I was able to fall back asleep because I needed to catch up on as much as I could. Sleeping wasn’t important while I was in captivity.
I giggle out loud when I think about how I punched him when he woke me up. Never have been a morning person and I never will be. Although I do feel slightly bad, I’m the type of person who if awakened startled, will act first and think later. Guess that’s just the way growing up in an MC has groomed me to be. Several have learned that lesson the hard way. My uncle and the brothers in the MC know this and won’t touch or talk to me until I’ve been up and moving around and have consumed two cups of the dark richness that is my coffee. And, if I’m at the clubhouse I don’t even have to lift a finger to make a pot. It’s always made and ready for my consumption. Looks like I can add Mercenary to the list of those who’ve learned the lesson.
Walking into the bathroom I’m pleasantly surprised at the cleanliness of the place. I hope their food is good because I’m starved. Most small-town diners have some of the best food. But, since my stomach is eating itself with hunger, I’ll eat whatever they have. Last night’s pizza and this morning’s coffee just isn’t doing it for me.
I place wads of toilet paper over the seat and squat, still not comfortable with letting my skin touch even with the added protection. Call me paranoid. Call me ridiculous. Yes, I was raised with and by some of the roughest and toughest men who always have my best interest at heart...but they’re downright filthy most days. So, one can never be too certain when using public facilities when you question those of the ones you’re used to using daily. After I’m done, I wash my hands before drying them before I grab a paper towel to open the door with. No need to expose myself to any germs I don’t have to. Looking over my shoulder, I toss the wadded up paper into the trash bin. Walking into the main lobby of the diner, I notice he’s already found us a small booth near the rear exit. Hesitantly, I take a seat across from him, uncomfortable with the fact that my back is to the front doors. Knowing that there’s no room to argue with him on the subject, I decide to trust him with my safety. After all, he’s proven himself quite capable of taking care of my body, and of course, my life. I quiver at the mere thought of exactly how well he handled me last night.
“Are you cold?” he asks me, looking up and over the menu he’s holding in front of his face. The man doesn’t miss a thing. If he only knew I am crisscrossing my legs under the table due to where my thoughts have traveled.
“No, just tired and ready to be home,” I blurt out, lying. I swear my body is boiling from the inside out indicating I’m going to hell for this little white lie. It tastes terrible in my mouth. All I want to do is beg him to find us a room so I can forget this day and let him pleasure me until my body completely surrenders in every way before falling into a peaceful slumber. Crawling across this table doesn’t sound so bad either. I could ravish him and not give a damn about the audience, even though I’m certain voyeurism is still punishable by incarceration if done in public. Well, the civilian public anyway. Back at the clubhouse, anything goes, and it’s a part of my everyday life. But sometimes you have to bite the bullet to get what your heart desires most, and right now it’s set on him and his delicious muscles.
“Should be arriving at the clubhouse in a little over three hours,” he states stoically, looking back down at the menu. Fucking asshole. He’s either completely emotionless, or he’s awful at reading a woman.
“Thank you,” I mumble, looking down at the scuffed table as I begin shredding a napkin. Is it terrible of me that I want to spend some more alone time with him? Just us. I’m starting to really care about him which has the once caged butterflies in my stomach going wild. Maybe it’s just lust, but my heart pitter patters around him and that’s a first for me. In the beginning I just wanted to get away from him. His presence was annoying. Now I don’t want to let him go. I want to get to know him. Find out what makes him tick. He intrigues me and makes me think about the future, something I haven’t done in a very long time.
“No need to thank me, I was hired to do a job and always deliver.” He takes a sip of his water. I want to grab that glass from him and pour it over his head. Technically what he says is true, but it still pisses me off. “What’s that look for? You’re giving off this vibe that you want to beat my ass,” he asks, looking back up at me.
“Nothing,” I practically spit out with a sharp tone. “Where is that damn waitress? I’m starving. It’s making me agitated is all.”
“We just sat down. She brought us water while you were otherwise occupied. What’s your rush?” Is he serious? Or playing coy with me? Fuck, how can he stir something deep inside of me and then crash it all with a few simple words?
“Sorry. I’m so terribly sorry, we had a waitress call in today so I’m trying to get hers and my section served. Do you know what you’d like today, or do you need a few more minutes?” The tired-looking waitress finally states, approaching our table. She looks so frazzled I now feel bad that I was so bitchy about her not waiting on us sooner.
“No worries.” I brush her concerns away with a flip of my hand. “I’ll take the number four special with a cherry soda please.” I lay my menu down and wait for him to place his order.
“I’ll have the number six with a salad on the side. Could we get a pitcher of water for our table?” he asks, setting the menu down in front of him. I feel the heat of his glare and flick my eyes to him and notice he is intently staring me down. It’s as if he’s trying figure me out. Good luck, buster. Many have tried, and many have failed. Looking away, suddenly I find our outside surroundings fascinating. I’m a people watcher by nature, but this is the excuse I need not to have to look directly into those forget-me-not baby blues. Something inside of me doesn’t want him to figure me out so easily. I want him to stick around and peel each layer away. You know, earn that shit.
Personally, I’d like to spend some time with him away from all of this mess. Of course, admitting that to him would only leave me vulnerable and I can’t allow myself to fall for him. Because once I get back home, he’ll be hitting the road and moving on with his life...without me. “You wanna share with me what’s causing that look on your face? And all that fidgeting you’re trying to keep hidden underneath the table?”
“Politely I’m gonna decline.” Nope I refuse to share with him what I’m thinking. With all of his push and pull, I don’t want to put myself out there and deal with dismissal. I’m used to getting what I want, but something about him tells me that he’s not gonna let me in so easily either.
Mercenary
My gut is begging me not to let her go. Thoughts of ‘don’t take her back’ are screaming inside of me. Take her and run. Knowing that it isn’t a reality for either of us, I suppress those thoughts and don’t allow them to manifest.
Once our food is consumed, we hit the road. After being on th
e road for about an hour, my chest begins hurting. Slowing down, I begin to exit from the highway. I pull in front of a chain store.
“What’s going on?” she asks me, as we come to a complete stop and I’ve shut the roar of the bike off.
“Just need a minute.” I get off and begin pacing. Rubbing my chest with my tightly clenched fist, the ache is still very present and consistent. I can feel her presence approach me from behind before she begins to rub small and steady circles across my back. The pain slowly begins to subside with the ease of her simple touch. Is this what’s wrong? Maybe dismissing our connection this prematurely is causing me some anxiety? “Thank you,” I manage to say.
“Are you okay?” she questions, peeking her head around my shoulder. Her tone drips with concern and forces my protective instincts to make an appearance. I haven't ever felt anything in the realm of sincere emotion toward anyone outside of my mother.
“I’m good. Just needed a minute to stretch my legs.” Is this the truth, or am I lying? It seems the truth where she’s concerned has become a gray area in my mind. And, either this truth or lack thereof has left a bitter presence on my tongue. “We should hit the road.” I turn and force myself to walk away from her when all I want to do is pull her into my arms, and never let her go. Clearing my throat which has suddenly closed up, I straddle my bike and wait for her to come and sit behind me. She moves slowly at first, but then her shoulders square and she finally climbs back on. When her arms wrap around me again, my heartrate picks back up. The fuck is she doing to me? I shake my head and fire up my girl.
Fuck this. I need to get her back to her father and be done with all this feeling and shit.
When we pull up to the clubhouse some punk ass prospect is at the gate. Prospects are typically pricks considering they have the most to prove. When she flips him off, he smiles wide and opens the gate. I’ve never physically been here and am impressed with their security and set up. There are cameras set up in each corner of the building, snipers on top of the landing, and guards walking the yard. They have more security detail and members than I imagined and have dealt with in prior clubs. How the fuck she was able to be taken befuddles me and has me thinking that there is so much more to this story than meets the eye.
“Daddy!” she screams, jumping off, running into an older male version of herself. This must be the infamous Rogue I’ve dealt with in the past. We’ve done business, but I’ve never met the man in person. Although, I have done extensive homework on him and his club. From my research she’s an only child, so I know that this isn’t a much older brother. I see his eyes close and watch as the relief leaves his body when she collides with him. It takes every ounce of self-control not to walk over there and yank her out of his arms and throw her over my shoulder.
Instead of doing that, I place my helmet on the seat and walk over to formally introduce myself to the Twisted Iron brothers. Not many have met me in person. I try to keep what I look like to myself for my own protection, but for some reason unknown to me, I need to walk up to him, shake his hand and introduce myself. When she finally releases her death grip from him, he wraps his left arm around her, and I hold out my hand. “Mercenary,” I tell him, extending my hand. He sticks his hand out and we have a firm grip on each other.
“Rogue,” he replies back, looking at me skeptically. “Nice to put a face with the name finally. Thanks for bringing my girl home. I had to secure the club and our families, or we’d have headed out after her ourselves.”
I nod. “Understandable. It was no problem, that’s what I do. I’m happy to bring her home practically unscathed. You have raised an amazing woman.” When the word ‘unscathed’ leaves my mouth, he pulls her from the safety of his arm and looks her over. When he finally notices the bandage from the graze on her arm his eyes ignite in anger before flickering back to me.
“The fuck happened?” he hollers out, and I see a few of his guys begin to surround us to see what has their Pres so upset. “You were supposed to rescue her not get her shot! Is that in fact a bullet wound, Harmony?” He shifts his gaze back to her and I watch as her brow furrows at his question. Watching his expression and the vein in his neck as it begins to bulge, he looks like he’s gearing up to attack me. I see several of his men pull their guns and aim them in my direction. Fuck. No good deed goes unpunished. I drag my palm down my face.
“Wait!” she orders them before she runs and stands in front of me. She waves her hands up in the air. I have a feeling my little body guard won’t deter any of these men from coming after me. But the fact that she’s willing to place herself in front of the firing squad has my chest constricting again. I place my hands on her shoulders, ready to move her out of the way and notice Rogue’s eyes narrow in on their placement. I squeeze her shoulders in appreciation for the effort and try to move her, but she’s dug her heels in and is standing her ground. “Do not try to move me,” she says through angrily gritted teeth.
“What’s going on here? Why do you have your hands on my daughter? Remove them, now!” Hanging my head because of the protective vibes surrounding her, I realize I might’ve bitten off more than I can chew the day I caved and buried my dick in her. “Outlaw, I’m giving you five seconds to remove yourself from your guard duty.” He begins counting, and she places her hands on her hips. I can’t see the look she’s giving him, but I can only imagine that it’s the defiant one I’ve witnessed. I can see that he’s seething, and it only makes me want to give him what he’s after. Needing a good fight to release the pent-up aggression, I place my hands on her hips and lift her up and out of the way. By me doing this, I’ve just secured myself a fight.
“You looking for a fight? Make no mistake, I won’t back down. I return your daughter to you and this is the respect I receive in return?” Even though my eyes are laser-locked on Rogue, make no mistake that I’ve also got his brothers in the sights of my peripheral.
“Can we not have a who’s dick is bigger fight? A family reunion is what’s needed right now and an adult conversation! I’ve had to deal with some slimy ass motherfuckers these past few days and I’m in serious need of relaxing. A long soak in a bubble bath along with a stiff drink sounds amazing. Oh, and some soft, relaxing music.” I notice Outlaw stomp her foot before folding her arms across her chest from the corner of my eye.
My version of relaxing right now is a good old-fashioned fight or fuck. I’ve never been the type of guy that finds solace in relaxing music in hopes to relieve my stress. Nope, that’s not for me. Now I really feel the need for a brawl. “I’ll be your Huckleberry,” I voice, repeating a line from one of my favorite movies hoping to reignite Rogue’s need to throw some fist. I’ll be happy to beat my chest like a caveman and speak the old language any man would recognize.
“Don’t tempt me, motherfucker. I could put a bullet between those eyes and never lose an ounce of sleep from you placing your dirty hands on my baby. Get your ass inside so I can pay you and get you off my property. You really don’t want to continue this.” Now I really want to dig my feet in and stay a night or two, maybe taste his daughter one more time.
“He’s not going anywhere, Daddy. He’s been on the road for days rescuing me and it’s not his fault we ended up in a gun fight for our lives. He needs rest. Show some gratitude and respect. If he’s not welcome here, he can come and stay at my place with me.” Liking the latter idea better, I give Rogue a smirk, subtly letting him know my intentions.
“The fuck did you say?” Rogue bellows out his rage. “Over my dead motherfucking body is he going to stick around. There’s a nice hotel two towns over, he can be on his merry way. Besides, he’s not exactly known for sticking around where women are concerned. Now, get your ass inside the clubhouse, Harmony Aurora Price.” The sly look he shoots my way makes me want to bury him in the ground. For the first time in my miserable life, I want to stay. Never having been one for putting down roots, I wouldn’t mind doing so now, as long as it included her. I hope she’s ready, because I’m comi
ng after her—heart, body, and soul. Once my mind is made up, I don’t stop until I win. This is sudden and nothing I ever imagined, but I want her, and I will make her mine.
Outlaw
Swiftly, my eyes shift toward my father. “Um, no,” I respond to his ridiculous request. So much for a happy reunion. My daddy shakes his head before his hands cover his face and I watch as they slide downward in frustration at my defiance. Since when do I do what I’m told? He should know better than to give me an order. I’m not one of his men.
“This isn’t up for debate,” he continues, pushing me to my limit. I emphatically shake my head at him. Fighting with my dad wasn’t the sort of homecoming I was looking forward to, but I’m unwilling to stand down from this. I know what I want, and right now that’s Mercenary and the way he makes me feel safe again. A feeling that’s completely foreign to me. I’ve never needed anyone else to make me have that sense of security. I’ve always felt safe and protected on my own. Or maybe that was an illusion since I’ve always had uncles looking after me. I thought I had the means to keep myself safe. A lesson I plan on rectifying from this point on.
Grabbing Mercenary by the arm, I lead him past my father whose face is laced with shock at my boldness. Once in the clubhouse, I show him to the bar. Walking behind it, I grab two beers and pop the tops. I think we’ve both earned it and need it after what all we’ve been through. “Your dad is hot on our heels and so are his men. I’m not one to stay where I’m not welcome. Look, I appreciate the gesture. It was cute, but it’s time for me to be on my way.” He stands and I can feel myself begin to panic inside. I’m not ready for him to leave. Shit, maybe my father was right. I thought there was something beginning between us.
For a fleeting moment, I contemplate testing the waters before I just blurt it out, “Would you like to come back to my place? Only to rest and recover of course.” I’m not being honest with him or myself which is something I don’t usually do. I watch as he takes several long pulls from his beer before finishing the entire thing. Looking outside, I notice my daddy and uncles having a discussion and I know they’re only seconds away from storming in here and causing a scene.
Mercenary And His Outlaw: Twisted Iron MC Page 6