Warped (Dueling Devils Book 4)

by Colt, Shyla

  “You’re doing great. I wouldn’t have left you here solo if I didn’t think you could handle it, so relax. The boys are rarely this well-behaved for anyone. But it seems our living, breathing, colossus has opted to take you under his wing.”

  Heat flooded her face. The image of the imperfect and extremely masculine man filled her brain. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

  “The hell you don’t,” Chase retorted. “I’d call it adorable if I did that sort of thing.”

  She toyed with the papers, uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken.

  “Look, he’s not going to push the issue. I just thought you might want to be aware of the person that has your back. You never know when you’ll need him.”

  “Are you on my team?”

  “You wouldn’t be here if I wasn't.”

  Symone nodded. She wanted to take her at her word, but every person she’d gotten close to left.

  Chase took a few sips of her coffee “Alright, I better get in there and get started before they ride my ass for the rest of the day, and not the way I like.” She winked and left the area as swiftly as she’d appeared. The woman came off like a storm, irrevocably changing things as she went, without breaking a sweat.

  A trait she admired. She lived life on her terms. What did it feel like? So many unanswered questions swirled in her mind. Learning to live for herself with no direction was more of a challenge then it should’ve been. Just shopping for herself had been a first-time experience.

  The door opened and Demon walked in with Lefty by his side. “How are things working out here? Taffy?” Demon asked. He spoke softly, but there was a hefty weight behind the words.

  His dark gaze swept over her leaving her feeling exposed. The man didn’t miss a thing. “It’s going well.”

  “The others going to agree with that statement?” Lefty all but spat at her.

  “What would be the point of lying when you’re just going to ask them?” She rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know why the fuck you do the things you do, Taffy.”

  “Symone. It’s Symone now.”

  Lefty narrowed his eyes.

  The aggression made her hackles rise. She’d hurt his woman and now, he was out for blood.

  “If she says she’s square, I believe her. Lying wouldn’t get her anywhere,” Demon interjected.

  Lefty snarled.

  “Look all I want is to make my own way. You put me up. Chase found me this job. I don’t owe you anything and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  “Bullshit. You owe Gia everything.”

  “Well, you aren’t her, are you?” she countered.

  “Keep pushing me. You won’t like what happens next.”

  “You’re meddling in something that’s not your business. Whatever I have going on with Gia is between us.”

  “Everything to do with her is my business.” His jaw ticked.

  “We got a problem here?”

  A man’s voice had never sounded like music to her ears before.

  “I don’t know, is there?” Lefty asked.

  “No, no problem. They were just seeing how I fit in,” Symone said quickly. The last thing she wanted was this man, who for some reason saw something in her to be protected, to get into trouble.

  “She’s doing a great job.” Monster placed his hand on the back of her chair.

  Her stomach clenched. She wanted to scoot her chair away and lean against his large frame at the same time.

  “Must be. It’s not like you to speak up about shit,” Demon said, obviously amused.

  “I just call it like I see it,” he replied.

  “Alright then.” Demon nodded. “I heard all I need to hear.” He turned and headed for the bay, leaving a stunned Lefty behind.

  He closed his mouth and spun to follow Demon.

  She released a sigh and slumped in her seat.

  “I get the feeling there’s never going to be a dull moment with you around.”

  “Not by choice.”

  “Hmmm.”

  She glanced up at him. I should say thank you. The words stuck in her throat.

  “I came up here to take a look at the schedule to see what job we need to concentrate on next.”

  “Yeah. I’ll just go grab some coffee.” She pushed away from the desk, stood and half stumbled away from the desk and the man who felt larger than life.

  * * * *

  Monster took a long draw from his beer and watched the women flock to his brother. Another party at the clubhouse. Since he had shit else to do, he’d opted to tag along.

  The veteran biker bunnies stayed away from him and the new girls stood in a corner plotting. They all seemed to think if he got a taste of pussy, they could drag him around by his dick like a dog on a leash.

  A petite blonde with big brown eyes sidled up to him. “Hi.”

  He glanced around. “You talking to me?”

  “Um, yes.” She leaned closer slightly, focusing on his patch. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see it in the dim lighting.

  He shifted his weight on the stool.

  She jumped back.

  Monster chuckled. “Boo.”

  The blood left her face. “I—I thought you might like some company?”

  “Really? Is that why you look you’re about to pee your pants?”

  Running her fingers through her hair, she glanced away. “You know, I was just trying to be nice.”

  “Oh, and offer me a mere moment of your time? This ain’t high school and I’m not some nerd you can get to do your homework. I eat little girls like you for breakfast.”

  She scowled. “Whatever, Freddy Krueger. I was trying to throw you a bone.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  Sliding off the stool, she flounced away.

  He raised his bottle to her.

  “I see you’re using your charm again.”

  Monster glanced up at Pan and shook his head. “Don’t you have a girl to be banging about now?”

  “I find I’m not interested.”

  Monster frowned. I don’t like this. “Why not?’

  “Because we have an intriguing mystery right under our nose and I find myself thinking about her more often than not.”

  “Who are we talking about?” Monster sat up straight and slammed his empty bottle on the bar.

  “I think you know.”

  “Not her.”

  “Why? You plan on doing something more than make eyes at her?”

  “Because she’s not one of your vapid biker bunnies you can nail and toss aside. One look and you can tell you she’s been through enough.”

  “Who said I want to toss her aside?”

  He balled his fists. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “Really? What’s that?” Pan leaned against the bar and smirked.

  His lackadaisical attitude grated on Monster’s nerves.

  Pan swirled his drink and arched a brow.

  Monster’s jaw ticked. It’d been awhile since he wanted to take his brothers head off so badly. “Trying to get under my skin and push me to the edge.”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “Good question, Pan. Don’t you have enough?”

  Pan narrowed his eyes. His brow furrowed and his eyes dulled. “Enough what?”

  “Of everything.” Monster slapped his palm on the bar. “Give me another one.” He barked. “You have the pretty face, the charm, the better luck of the draw. So, why the fuck do you care about someone like Symone?”

  “Someone like Symone, are you listening to yourself? You don’t know anything about her.”

  “I know she’s like me,” Monster whispered.

  “Like you, what are you talking about?”

  “Scarred, ignored and reminded daily how different she is. Even Frankenstein got a wife. What use would you have for her?”

  “I can’t believe this!” Pan shook his head. “You’re really this hung up o
n her? She turns you into someone I haven’t seen in a long time. You think I’m going to leave you to the wolves?” Pan asked.

  “Thanks for the concern, baby brother. I take care of myself just fine.” Monster shook his head.

  “Younger by three fucking minutes!” Pan exclaimed.

  The brunette bar bitch for the night was one he’d only seen briefly. She slid a fresh bottle across the counter and took away the old.

  He nodded his thanks.

  “She’s not like anyone we know. I’m intrigued. You need me, or this shit will never get off the ground.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “It’s been so long, you’ve got shit all twisted.”

  Monster rolled his eyes. They were an unhealthy pair of assholes. Of course, being the product of near death experiences that wiped out your entire family would do shit like that to you. Any girl he was with had to accept the pain in the ass that was Pan. “And tell me, how do you plan for this to all go down?”

  “Now you’re talking.” Pan clapped him on the shoulder. “She might be wary of me, but she likes you. A blind man could see that.”

  Monster shrugged. He wanted to believe him, but hope came with pain. He’d felt enough of that emotion to last him for the rest of his life. “I think you’re reading too much into things.”

  “I know I’m not and this is why I can’t leave you alone to do this.” Pan shook his head. “We need to do this together. It feels right to me.”

  Monster toyed with the label on his beer. He wasn’t sure he wanted to share something with his twin brother. “We’ll see, Pan.”

  “Better than a no.”

  Monster sneered but remained silent. Anything he said would be giving him more fodder. He downed his beer. “I’m not feeling it tonight. I’m going to hit it early.”

  “Uh huh.” Pan did nothing to hide his skepticism, but he remained silent, so that was something.

  He walked away from the bar taking in the scene. Loud rock music filled the smoky air and bodies moved together on the dance floor, against walls and over a pool table. He envied the freedom they had. It was part of the lure of the club. They did what they wanted, when they wanted and only answered to one another. He’d lost the ability to live by that code when the fire ruined him. Revealing his scars was more than a sore point—it’d been a joy killer.

  There was nothing worse than knowing something about you sucked the happiness out of everyone else. The life could be more than hard and it left plenty of scars and ruined lives in its wake. If you didn’t keep up, you ended up road kill underneath the tires, because the machine never stopped for anyone. He moved around the couple fucking up against the wall and escaped into the quiet of his room in the middle of the hallway. The door shut with a definitive click and he leaned against it.

  Symone had him off his game and he couldn’t even pinpoint why. Infuriated by his involuntary infatuation, he plopped down on the bed. Expectations were a dangerous thing to have, because they could lead to horrible disappointment. He tucked his hands behind his head and thought back to the time when he was Hayes instead of Monster and Pan was Hartley.

  To the night that changed everything…

  * * * *

  “Great, he’s drunk again,” Hayes said. He plopped back on his bed and tossed a baseball into the air, catching it over and over as he tried to block out the yelling coming through the paper thin walls.

  “When isn’t he?” Hartley asked. “Let’s face it, he’s getting worse, not better.”

  “Yeah, Pres ain’t going to like it.”

  “Only reason he gives a shit is because Dad’s been fucking up. He’s letting the bottle get the best of him. If you can’t be accountable, Pres is going to step in and make you be,” Hartley said.

  “Good, then maybe we could get some sleep.” Hayes glanced over at his brother and exchanged a look full of understanding. If he laid into their mom again, they were stepping in.

  Their mother was a soft-spoken, brunette with a wide smile, easy-going manner, and gentle spirit. Her petite frame and mild temperament made her an easy target.

  Arthritis had set -in and the constant pain turned their father, Freebird, to drinking. The worse the rheumatoid arthritis grew, the more he self-medicated. Without the ability to ride as he once had, their light- hearted father had slowly morphed into their worst nightmare. Glass shattered.

  “Stop it, you’ll wake the boys.”

  “You think they’re stupid or deaf?” The wall shook under the impact of what Hayes assumed was his father’s fist against the wall. “I’m sick of being stuck inside these four walls with you. It’s not the life I wanted. You make me sick.”

  “What do you want me to do, Freebird? Just tell me.”

  “You can’t give me what I need, Regina. You can’t be the open road or the lady I’ve always loved most.”

  Hayes looked at Hartley. He was referring to his bike. His stomach cramped. His father sounded less angry and more broken.

  The brokenhearted sobs that left their mother ripped at his heart. She didn’t deserve this. For their entire lives, she’d been the one consistent thing. Freebird was in and out on the wind, living the life of an outlaw while they were left behind. It seemed cool from a distance. He used to aspire to be just like him. Then this happened, and he was forced to see the ravaging effects the club could have. The sounds of their father’s boots leaving the kitchen relaxed him. It was over for tonight.

  Hayes rolled onto this side to keep Hartley from striking up a conversation. There were no words to make this situation better. Their mother wasn’t going to leave, and their father couldn’t overcome the disease that’d crept in and stole the use of his hands. As the time continued to pass, he’d get worse and worse. Anger swelled in his chest. Being young made you useless. I can’t get a job, speak my mind, or keep the one person I love most safe. Eventually, exhaustion set in and he drifted off to sleep.

  He woke up coughing. His throat protested and his body shook as he expelled air. Nausea made him groan. He peeled open his eyelids and blinked. A gray haze clouded the air. His eyes watered. He wiped at them with the back of his hands, blinking. He rolled onto his side, ignoring the fatigue that made his limbs feel like lead.

  Hartley’s bed was empty.

  He rolled from the bed. His body protested the rough landing. I have to find Hartley. He low-crawled across the floor while his burning throat and aching lungs thanked him for the cleaner air. Time all but slowed to a halt as he continued to pull his dead weight out into the hallway. Intense heat permeated the house. Sweat slicked his back, sticking his shirt to his skin. Sweat beads ran down his face and into his eyes. He could hear the crackling of burning material. “Har—?” He coughed again, unable to force the words out. His throat refused to cooperate.

  The smoke seemed the worst toward the front of the house. That must be where the fire began. His eyes darted back and forth as he searched for his brother and mother. If his old man was too drunk to vacate the premises, that’d be on him. Hell, he’d probably prefer that. Brushing the wall, he kept to his left. He ended up at the end of the hallway. He glanced to the left and squinted to make out shapes in the murky grayness. A pair of bare feet stuck out from the end of the couch. He pulled himself along, realizing he’d been trying to save their mother, who lay on the couch.

  Her stillness set a slow panic off inside him. “Hartley,” he croaked. His brother didn’t respond.

  Hartley’s body rose slightly.

  He’s alive. He gripped Hartley’s shirt with clumsy fingers and tugged. “Wake up.” Nothing happened. I have to get him out of here. He peered at his mother on the couch. Her arm hung limply over the side. If she was breathing, he couldn’t tell. Torn between his mother and his twin, he hesitated. A fresh round of coughing shook him into action. It might be too late for his mother. But he knew he could save Hartley. I’ll come back for you, Mom.

  The heat had grown more intense as the fire spread up the hallway, seekin
g to engulf them in its fiery embrace. He forced himself up onto his knees, gripped the black t-shirt with both hands, and pulled Hartley with all his strength. His muscles screamed in protest. Sweat stung his eyes. His vision faded in and out. Despite it all, he continued to inch his way to the door. He dropped Hartley and he groaned.

  The sound gave birth to hope. He reached up to the handle. “Shit.” The metal burned his hand. He waved it in a pitiful attempt to cool it down. Desperate, he lifted the end of his shirt up and wrapped it around the knob then turned. He pulled. The door held tight. Tears of frustration and exhaustion distorted his vision. He slapped the wood and gave a hoarse cry. His attention refocused on the window. Time was ticking down. If he didn’t get them out now, they’d all perish. He grabbed his father’s steel-toe boot and flung it at the window with all his strength. The glass gave. The air rushed through and the place went up like dry kindling. A wave of fire spilled across the ceiling and knocked him on his ass. Dazed, he lost valuable moments. He sat up to see the fire less than four feet away from him. The smell of burning flesh turned his stomach. I can’t lose anyone else. He grabbed Hartley and slid them across the floor to the window.

  The sound of sirens in the distance, told him help was on the way. He slapped Hartley’s face.

  His brother groaned as he stirred slightly.

  He took some of his own weight as Hayes hefted him up and shoved him out the window frame. Heat exploded onto his side.

  The material of his shirt melted to his flesh and he began to scream.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “So, what’s the story between you and the V.P.’s old lady anyway?”

  Symone choked on her beer.

  Chase rushed forward and thumped her back a few times.

  “Holy, shit, Chase,” Symone croaked.

  “I didn’t know you’d forget you were a human and try to breathe through liquid.”

  Symone snickered. “Most people would’ve asked about my scars.”

  “You know me, I always have to be different.”

  “I noticed.”

  “So, no story?” Chase tilted her head.