Hotstreak: A Bad Boy New Adult Romance (Chaos, Nevada Book 2)

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Hotstreak: A Bad Boy New Adult Romance (Chaos, Nevada Book 2) Page 50

by Liz K. Lorde

Damien was wet and unimpressed, his jaw clenched tight and a seething set of lines to his now sticky face. He shook his head as I tossed the cup to the floor, and he swept a hand over his face several times – the anger vibrating off of his person.

  The man was a coward. Always had been. He didn’t have the guts to look like he would do something to me in front of witnesses. As I stepped back, flipping him off, he said: “Fuckin’ walk home then, you moody bitch.”

  Opting not to say anything, I gave him a second middle finger and then turned on my heel, leaving as quickly as my feet would carry me. I’d done something very stupid, and I was already scolding myself mentally for having done so. But the need to tell him off was deeply ingrained into my person, it was constantly at battle with the thought and ever-fleeting feeling, that I deserved this heartless thug.

  I deserved it for not saving her. Josie was right about me. I was just lonely, and selfish, and jealous – I was never protecting anyone but myself; and it burned me bad.

  So I stormed my way out of Christopher’s place, high on my own anger and frustration. Million stabbed by my own regrets, the past and the present of them all swirling together inside of me – adding to the tempestuous maelstrom that was me. Had only the vastness of the stars and the judging, pale moon above to guide my way back home. Was way too stubborn to go and ask anyone for a ride, let alone muster the courage to try and trust some stranger.

  Trekking my boots against the pebbles of Christopher’s driveway, I slipped through the ajar, black, masterfully ornate gate. I huffed and rubbed my hands along my body, trying to fight off the cold as I moved down the dark of the sidewalk. When I felt a pair of eyes digging into my back, my nose flared and I craned my head to look behind myself.

  Nothing.

  Continuing onwards, the thought of that deliciously handsome stranger formed in my mind. That biker dude, built like he was made to kill. Felt a twinge of heat shoot right between my legs and I was glad that nobody was around, to hear my whisper-soft whimper. Some soft, scraping noise graced the night behind me – but it only barely registered. What I’d give to ride those bones…Satan himself would have an easy contract to write up, no doubt.

  Cutting glass shot through my veins.

  Once the initial panic set in, and I felt the constricting grip of some man’s arms, I quickly came to understand what was happening. The hands were white. That much I could make out in the dark. His sleeves were dark and thick, and when I craned my head to try and get a look at my attacker, I yelled: “Hey! What the fuc—“I slammed my elbow into the side of the dude’s face, recognizing him as that creep from before at the pool.

  The Creep grunted in pain and wrestled with me, forcibly pushing me up against the large wooden fence of some neighboring residence. “Shut your whore mouth,” he threatened. What little of his pale face I could make out was distorted in anger, the green of his eyes glinting with a dark lust. He continued to keep me pressed against the fence with his one arm, digging into one of the pockets of his hoodie with the other.

  I slipped from his grasp and gave him a hard shove, managing to push him back a couple of steps. I twisted on my heel and started to dart away.

  His hand came back to my wrist and I yelled for someone, anyone, to help me. He yanked me back into his clutch, bringing a knife to my throat as I squirmed for my life.

  Shit.

  The Creep pushed me back up against the fence and craned his head nervously around his shoulder, whispering in a growl to me: “You make another noise and you’ll never walk again,” the knife pressed against the crux of my back.

  Every nerve in my body was on fire, and my heart hammered against my chest. Fuck, I guess this is it. Sick little knots twisted in my stomach as I felt his hand snake around to the front of my pants.

  2

  Gabriel

  “Yeah, brother, I’m on my way out now,” Luke had called me a couple of minutes ago, but my mind was still in the clouds from before. It’d been a good long while since my cock had gotten stiff from the sight of a woman; couldn’t quite place my finger on it, but there was something else that swam in my chest – some good, curious feeling after having met eyes with that bad-ass bitch.

  Pushing out a breath through my nose, I swung open the front door of this snobby rich kid’s place. “Yeah,” I said into my burner, looking behind my person and then closing the door, padding down the pathway of rocks and pebbles. Made sure to keep my voice to a private whisper, “They’re just kids, Luke,” typically one would use more respectful titles for your club President, but me and him? We had history.

  More history than any man should have. Lifetimes worth of loss conducted in twenty something years.

  Continuing to make my way through the front, I noted the fancy, rich kid cars and a couple of ugly looking Hummers. “I’ve made it clear to them,” I informed the President, “if they want to sell, even at their level – and trust me bro, it ain’t much. Then they have to pay. They cut us ten percent, and if we catch word they’re doing anything stupid, we’ll break their legs, give your girl Jasmine some work to do or something.” Warmth bloomed in my chest at the thought of seeing my man so happy, that damn girl really knew how to get him to smile. “Alright,” I said, “alright I’ll be a half hour or something. Peace.”

  Taking long strides, I pocketed the burner into my leather cut. Luke had taken the time to hire out some professionals and get our stitch work done right; giving each bona-fide member of our club a white, emblazoned sword on the back of our jackets. Couple more weeks down the line, once we get everything squared away, they’ll have New Knights branded on there as well.

  It wasn’t the most original name, but Luke and the boys, myself included, felt indebted to the Steel Knights. Like we had to right a wrong by carrying on the torch.

  When I finally made my way to my bike, I turned my head – picking up some noise in the distance. Wasn’t sure if it was a cat, or just some man-made wailing. It wasn’t unlike some assholes to play their TV or music loud, having it blast out through the night. I swung a long leg over my bike and sank into the plush, old leather seating and smiled. To be fair, I was that kind of guy most nights – laying the music on thick and not giving a fuck. Guess some old asshole habits die hard.

  I sat there for a moment, with my hands gripped on the handles of the steel beast. Listening. Waiting to see if that noise would come back, but it never did. Kicking the stand of my bike with my heel, I shot it back into place and mounted up; craning my head around dutifully, and then revving up the engine, loving the roar and vibrations of my oldest companion.

  The fires of my imagination consumed me as I pulled off the curb and turned my baby around, heading down the road where I heard the noise previous. Pictures of those light blue lips swam through me, of that Girl who I glimpsed on the stairs. She’d looked pissed off, and the thought of her flipping me the bird made me smirk. If I hadn’t been there to snuff out the locals, I would have taken the time to put her in her place.

  Driving down the suspiciously long road, which was pretty much bathed in black at this point, save for the yellow of my headlight, I felt the familiar stabs of guilt all over me. Felt my jaw tighten and the lines of my face stiffen up, a small ball of anger building in my chest. Even after all this time, the demons just kept haunting me – piling on more and more shit.

  I was ready to explode. And it frightened me. All my life I’d been the dangerous fuck-up, and calm-before-the-storm loose cannon. I was getting tired of all these rough edges, tired of wondering what life would dish out for me next; cause even with fighting like hell, it just never seemed to be enough. Maybe some greater part of me knew something huge was about to happen, some cosmic thread that tugged on me as my eyes crawled over this scene as I approached.

  Bringing my motorcycle to a crawl, I could already feel my heart beginning to pick up it’s pace – slamming the first fires of adrenaline into my system. Some hoodie wrapped scum-sucker was holding down that Girl from before. I swa
llowed hard and felt my muscles tighten with the need to protect this woman; it wasn’t usually my place to step into other people’s business, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was about to let someone fuck with this girl. I’d stomp his head in before I let that happen.

  The Attacker looked over at me, and I could see the fear in his eyes as I dismounted from my bike. He had a knife pressed to that girl’s throat. Before I could move any further, he situated himself where the Girl was pinioned against him, and being used as a shield.

  The girl sucked in a nervous breath, her eyes bugging out and pleading to me to have caution.

  I returned the young woman’s glance with a reassuring look, sliding my eyes towards her attacker.

  The man tried to give out his most threatening growl, “Back up, man.”

  It just made me smile. “No,” I replied, my voice smooth as smoke; all gravel compared to his playing-hard tones.

  “The fuck did you say?” His brows, what little of them I could manage to discern, knitted together, and he pressed the blade harder against the girl’s neck. The smallest inkling of red appeared, and a single line trickled down the valley of her gorgeous neck. “D-don’t make me say it again,” the weasel continued, probably high as a kite now that I caught his pupils. He looked over to his right and then back to me, taking small, retreating steps.

  “Put it down,” I warned, the hard edge of my unspoken threat lacing my tone. Each step of my boots that I took punctuated the air, and only further clarified my plainly malicious intent. The smile never left my face, and the fire only churned in my chest. This? This was what I lived for; I got off on bringing the fiends and ‘oh Daddy can bail me out’s of this world down a notch.

  The frightened girl swallowed hard, and her nose flared as she writhed against the pervert’s touch. “Just stay back,” she pleaded, but her eyes told me a different tale. It was strange to be mesmerized by an otherworldly beauty that was her voice, especially in trying times as these. Life was overall a long, off affair. I was just in it for the ride. “Please,” she parroted, sucking in a hard breath. Those sapphire beauties for eyes kept trying to communicate something subtle.

  Her attacker raised his chin, “Yeah,” he said, “listen to the bitch. I’ll snatch her life f’you try anything, just you watch.”

  I took several more calm steps towards the two, bringing my hands up in front of me gesturing for the man to take things easy. “You talk big,” I openly mused, “but I know people like you. Don’t think you’re harder than you are,” I kept my eyes steady on the man, watching his knife carefully. In my gut, I felt certain that he wouldn’t try it.

  The man slithered with the girl to his immediate right, pushing out a hard breath through his nose. He had to be considering running for it – or the worst case scenario, cutting and running.

  Either way he’s signed his life away.

  When I moved in close enough that the two were only a couple of feet away, I was getting ready to spring into action.

  Both of them looked toward me, and the son of a bitch kept warning me that he’d do it. Fuckin’ coward. That girl though, she huffed out a curse and managed to ball her fist, bringing it down hard against her attacker’s crotch.

  The man reeled in pain, the knife getting pulled away from the girl’s body. It no doubt took every ounce of drugged up strength in his body to keep from falling to his knees. The girl broke free from the man’s grasp just as I crashed into the asshole’s body; flinging him with the full force of my person into the fence. Felt unreal, how good it felt to smash him up against it. To feel his bones thud and send out a vibration into me.

  He winced in pain and the knife clattered against the sidewalk. I could see the fear of God that I’d put into him, his weak little body trembling beneath my touch. “Wait—“he started.

  That was when I reared my fist back and launched it at his ugly face, loving the feel of his bones crunching against my knuckles. Pain shot out from my hand, but it was nothing that I wasn’t used to – so in half a heartbeat, I wound my fist up again and struck him a second time.

  Shitstain here bellowed like the blitzed out bitch that he was, and blood leaked from his nose, getting slathered around his face with each new punch. I felt some of the life go out of him between his begging, and when I was satisfied with the hospital bill I’d racked up for the ingrate, I let him fold in on himself and sink to the floor. He groaned out loud and pawed at his wounds, tears running down his face.

  I spit down at the man and brought my hand to his chin as that girl watched. She was like a deer in the headlights, witnessing a spectacle of carnage. Growled at the man: “Look at me,” I forced him to gaze up at me, “I know you’re high.” Higher than a Jamaican vacation with Marley and Hendrix as your guides, “but if you ever pull this shit again…I’ll find you. Don’t let there be a next time. Now nod,” I commanded.

  The man wearily nodded to the best of his ability, and then slumped back into his curled up position.

  I turned to face that girl and asked with sincerity, “You good?”

  3

  Madeline

  Everything just didn’t seem all that real in the moment, what with bleeding asshole over there and smoldering good looks asshole over here. My heart was still beating quick in my chest, tapping hard against my breastbone. “I’m fine,” I clipped, making sure to keep distance from the both of them.

  “You’re shakin’,” the Biker pointed out, giving the man he’d just beat within to an inch of his life another quick look.

  I hadn’t even noticed, but with him pointing it out – I did find my hands trembling a bit. “Just the adrenaline is all,” I countered, shrugging my shoulders and trying to look away from him. “Thanks for helping, I guess,” the words just rolled from my tongue, and immediately I wanted to take them back, but I kept on going, “I could have taken him.”

  The handsome, muscular, God of a man stepped a heavy boot closer towards me. His eyebrows raised with disbelief, “You guess?” He pressed, “that asshole could have killed you, lady. He would have, if I hadn’t stepped in, so count yourself lucky.”

  I snorted, “Lucky? I wouldn’t call near rape, or mugging, or whatever the hell lucky,” I hated this physical pull that I was feeling. Not liking that one bit, I turned from the Biker and kept on the same way I was going – trying to push back the embarrassment and hurt in my chest.

  “Where are you going?” The man pursued, and I could hear his boots kissing the sidewalk behind me. Some lights on the other side of the street went up, and it seemed like our commotion had brought some no longer needed attention.

  “Home?” I replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, craning my head to look back at my demon of a rescuer. There was this squeezing sensation on my heart; just couldn’t bring myself to act normal for two damn minutes. “What’s it matter to you?” I brought my head back, hoping that he didn’t see the water I knew was in my eyes.

  “I saved your life,” he said gruffly, “it matters. You’re not going home alone,” the dude insisted. Really? “Further…why the hell are you clothes wet?”

  Stopping in my tracks, I turned my whole body to face him now, my eyes flicking to the side and noticing a concerned, older couple exiting their front door to survey what was happening. “None of your business, badass,” I decided that was a good name for him, then. I said it with a tone of mockery. Looking at him again, I took in the hard, handsome lines of his face – the powerful concern in his soulful, soil colored drops for eyes. He had a cool looking stud that ran through his lower lip, and my neurotic ass, for one fleeting moment, wondered what it’d be like to feel that rubbing up against my clit.

  Shit, why am I getting so turned on just being near this guy? Boys never had that strong of an effect on me. I nervously cleared my throat and put my hands on my hips, “I’ve handled myself fine before tonight. Before you, so back up, bub.”

  The biker crossed his arms over one another, “Stop acting tough,” he
argued, and I knew that he knew we were being watched. “Seriously,” he continued, “just let me take you home? How far is it from here?” He clicked his teeth and let out an exasperated breath, “I have somewhere I have to be, but whatever. If you want, I’ll do it,” he offered, “nobody should have to deal with shit like that alone.”

  I chewed on his offer. I’d never ridden a motorcycle before, and even with my best efforts, the cold still easily clung to my clothes. Adjusting myself, I locked eyes with the man. “Just go do what you have to,” I tried to push him away, it was easier that way. Pushing people away. Simpler. “I’ll be okay, really.”

  That was when he smiled, and I felt my breath leave me, “Darling, I’m my own man. I don’t take ‘no’ so easily,” he closed the distance between us, seemingly taken a cautious, respectful approach – worried that he’ll scare me away no doubt. I wondered briefly what Damien would think, with a guy like this talking to me, let alone helping me.

  Standing and not saying anything didn’t feel like the brightest option, but I found my whole body was basically wrapped around this man’s proverbial finger. Learning how to breathe all over again, I took in a sharp breath through my nose – it was like sucking in fire around him.

  He looked down at me and cocked his head at an angle, giving me an excellent view of his brown facial scruff. “You’d have said no again by now,” he growled in that sexy gravel tone, “or given me the finger like your ass did earlier, at least.”

  Automatically I broke into a small smile at that, the lightest of laughter rolling from my chest.

  As if that was all the invitation the man needed; he grunted as he scooped me up and over his shoulder caveman style.

  “Whoa!” I responded, “let me down!” I swatted my hand at the biker’s strong, muscle-corded back. This sense of nervousness, excitement and euphoria pushed itself through my system.

  “Relax,” he quipped, “I’ll let you down in a sec,” he promised, carrying me and placing me down on the seat of his motorcycle.

 

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