Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4)

by Cat Porter

  One of Finger’s thick eyebrows lifted a few degrees. “This is unfortunate.”

  “Unfortunate?” Jump shot a grimace at Butler, a you-hearing-this-shit look.

  “I need to see him.” Finger’s gaze landed on Butler. “Take me to him.”

  Butler glanced at Jump, and then he gestured in the direction of the kitchen, which led to the dreaded cellar. Jump narrowed his eyes at the pair of them as they strode out of the lounge, their heavy boots banging on the floor.

  Within fifteen long and silent minutes, Butler and Finger returned.

  Finger’s eyes settled on Jump. “Catch ruin your party?”

  “We were having a family celebration,” Jump said, his face relaxed.

  Shit, he was enjoying this.

  Finger’s cheeks pulled in, making the deep scars engraved in them more severe. “I was on the road, heading home when I found out. Came straight here.”

  “Course, you and your men will stay. We’ve got plenty of food and drink and room for you all to spend the night,” said Butler.

  Finger slightly slanted his head. An acknowledgment or an appreciation of the bullshit? “Will do.”

  “A bottle of Jack.” Butler motioned to one of the girls.

  She scurried off behind the bar. Mary Lynn, Dee, and Alicia darted to the kitchen. They reappeared with plates piled with food and placed them along with cutlery on the center table.

  Finger settled in an armchair. The Don had arrived.

  His men sat on a sofa and tucked into the roast pork and scalloped potatoes. Finger ignored the food and only drank a swig of Jack from a glass the girl had poured for him, his eyes on me and Grace. The music got louder again. Voices rose.

  How things had changed in all these years. Finger was no longer the foot soldier, the ragged prisoner of war, the dreaded messenger, the knife behind the threats.

  Now, he is the threat.

  He was the architect, the great commander, the respected leader, the sovereign.

  Lock, Boner, and Kicker shook Finger’s hand and talked with him and Butler.

  Why was Butler here, entertaining the VIP houseguest? Why wasn’t he with Nina? Had he meted out his punishment already and maybe had locked her in a room while he came out here to hang with his bros and enjoy the rest of his evening?

  Butler glanced at me, his lips pressed together. I only averted my gaze.

  Lock gestured at me and Grace to come forward.

  Grace and I exchanged a brief tight glance as we moved toward Finger.

  “This here your old lady?” asked Finger, his eyes taking in Grace.

  “Yes, this is Grace,” said Lock, his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

  “We met once. Long time ago.”

  “Yes, we did,” Grace said as they shook hands. “Dig always spoke very highly of you.”

  Finger raised his glass. “He was a good man.”

  “He was.”

  “A man of his word.”

  “Yes.”

  “You and Tania are good friends?”

  “Since forever.”

  “She’s a good friend to have.” He rolled the amber liquor in his glass, his eyes darting to me and back to Grace. “Congratulations on the baby.” He aimed his gaze at Lock. “I apologize for Catch ruining your night.”

  “Thank you.” Lock pressed Grace to his side.

  Jump signaled to a couple of the young hanger-on women who hovered in the distance. They sauntered toward Finger.

  “Anything you need, Finger, you let me know,” Jump said, his forehead creasing.

  One girl draped herself on the arm of Finger’s chair, the other stood at his other side.

  Finger’s steady gaze found mine as he drained his glass. “Pour me another, would you, Tania?” he asked, his eyes sliding back to Jump.

  “Uh…of course.” The bottle on the table was empty. I turned quickly and bumped into Butler. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I brushed past.

  Another club girl appeared in front of me, as if by magic, and wordlessly shoved a fresh bottle of Jack into my hands, her eyes wide. I went back to Finger, twisted the cap open, and filled his glass. Lock and Grace had sat down on another sofa by his side.

  Finger swallowed the liquor and licked his lips as he rested the glass on his thigh. His eyes found Jump’s. “I don’t like misunderstandings.”

  “Neither do I,” added Jump. “This is done with, as far as the Jacks are concerned. I can’t speak for Butler, of course.”

  “I’m here to make sure shit doesn’t get out of hand. Totally understandable what’s gone on so far, but it ends here and now,” Finger said.

  I put the bottle of booze down on the coffee table. “Finger, can I see my brother?”

  “He’s breathing, Tania. You don’t have to worry. Curled up with a bottle. You can see him in the morning over a cup of coffee before we leave.”

  “Okay,” I murmured.

  No point in pushing. I was in Bikerland now, and I was simply someone’s sister, an outsider.

  Jump shifted his weight, a smirk on his face. “Catch is no longer allowed on our club property. I know Meager is his hometown. He’s got his mother here, his kid, his sister”—he jerked his chin in my direction—“but he won’t be welcome here.”

  “Fair,” said Finger.

  Finger took ahold of my arm and steered me to sit on his outstretched long thigh. My breath caught in my chest. There was a hush in the room as I settled on his lap, his arm resting on my hip. Alicia pulled the club girl off his chair, and she grunted, shuffling off with the other girl in tow.

  Oh, shitters, what the hell is he doing, and how do I get myself out of this now?

  The heat of Grace’s eyes scorched my side, but I didn’t dare look at her. At anyone. Especially at Butler, who muttered something under his breath.

  “Butler, your old lady is Reich’s sister-in-law?” Finger handed me his drink, and I took a much-needed sip of the liquor.

  “That’s right,” Butler replied, his hard gaze darting to me, then back to Finger.

  “Reich is the VP of my club’s national.” He leaned back in his chair, a large hand easing down my side. “If he asks me how this night went down, I’ll be letting him know.”

  “So will I,” replied Butler, “if he asks.”

  Finger eyed Butler, his gaze sliding back to Jump. “I’ve been riding all day. Could use a shower and that bed.”

  Oh, good, powwow over.

  My cue to get out of here fast.

  I shot up from Finger’s lap, and he rose from his chair, towering over me. I put his glass on the table, and he gripped my upper arm, keeping me close. Grace stared at me, and Butler winced, the corners of his eyes creasing.

  Finger’s hand wrapped around my neck, and a prickle shot up my spine.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  His hold on my neck tightened, and he brought me closer to his body, our faces barely inches apart. I took in a breath, my hand clamping onto his wrist.

  His dark eyes pierced mine. “I won’t have them fucking with you, Tania. You hear? They need to know you’re under my protection.”

  “Am I?”

  “Always have been. From the very beginning.” His thumb rubbed the back of my neck. “Now that you’re back in Meager, I want Jump and the rest of them to respect you, not take any shit about your brother or me out on you after tonight. I won’t have that fucker Jump or any of them playing with you.”

  “But—”

  “I’m glad you got Grace, but that ain’t enough,” he replied to my protest without my even having to spit it out.

  “I know them, Finger. It isn’t like that.”

  “You’re talking nostalgia. I’m talking here and now. Cold, hard reality.”

  My teeth dragged across my lip. I knew what he was telling me. The vicious surprise of that biker in the restaurant in Sioux Falls with Butler flashed before my eyes. Jump’s sneering gaze this evening and on plenty of other occasions. The knowledge th
at every Jack here probably had a go at my brother tonight. No, there was nothing left to do but to acquiesce and be grateful.

  Oh, shit.

  Might as well make it good.

  I slid my free arm around Finger’s taut middle and pressed into his body. He stayed perfectly still, his eyes on me, as I reached up and touched my lips to his. His hand tightened around my neck as his mouth firmly pressed onto mine.

  Our tongues met in a rough argument, a meeting of the minds, a tango performance, a signing of the declaration. I clamped my eyes shut as dizzying cold shudders of pleasure snaked through me with slivers of dread.

  Whatdoyathink of me now, Butler?

  Finger released me, a hand at my face. “Good girl,” he breathed, his warm lips brushing my forehead.

  His arm wound over my shoulders, and I leaned into his body. He turned us to face the group, and my mouth dried up.

  Grace, Lock, Jump, Alicia, Boner, Dready, Tricky, Dawes, Kicker, Mary Lynn, Dee, Judge, Suzi, Bear, and even the club girls stared at us with a mixture of surprise, veiled suspicion, and alarm.

  “Alicia, baby, why don’t you show Finger his room?” Jump said, his eyes gleaming at me.

  “Of course.” A smile blazed over Alicia’s face. The perfect hostess.

  Butler was a block of stone. Motionless, arms folded, his blue eyes glinting like ice in winter sunshine.

  Finger planted a quick kiss on the side of my face. His warm lips might as well have left a burn mark behind on my cool skin.

  I glanced at Grace in a farewell gesture, and Finger and I followed Alicia down the hallway.

  At the end of the hall, she opened a door for us. “Here you go. You need anything, there’ll be prospects in the lounge,” she said before leaving us alone.

  Finger closed the door behind her. We were alone in the confines of this small room.

  “Is this really necessary?” I whispered, suddenly feeling like a day-old picked wildflower struggling to stay upright in a vase.

  He locked the door. The click snapped loudly, making my back stiffen, my belly flip.

  “Come here.”

  I went over to him. He slid his hands around my neck and slowly kissed me, his lips nudging mine open. My hands dug into his sides.

  “Finger…”

  “You wanna fuck?” he said against my lips. His raspy voice growled in that way, the way I’d always liked, the way that had always stabbed at my insides with a flare of heat.

  So long ago.

  His eyes glinted at me. Finger was good at knocking down the elephant in the room, getting it out of the way.

  I let out a laugh, my shoulders falling, and his dry laughter rumbled in his chest against mine. He planted a kiss on my forehead, pulling me deeper into his embrace, and I squeezed him back. He released me and went to the bed where he kicked off his boots. I fell back against the mattress, and he stretched out on the bed beside me.

  “I guess I’m spending the night, huh?” I said.

  “You guessed right.” He folded his arms under his head. “Nice to see Maddie again,” he said, referring to the fake name Grace had used when we went to Finger’s clubhouse many months ago.

  “You saw right through that, didn’t you?”

  “Last thing I expected was to see you along with Dig’s old lady walking through my door.”

  “You recognized her from way back then?”

  “You’d mentioned her to me when we first met.” Finger removed his bandana and tossed it to the night table. “And I’d noticed her the times Dig and I hung out. He’d introduced us once. I don’t forget a face.”

  “When we came to your club with my niece, Grace figured it was a complication, not needed in the ugly situation with Catch and Jill.”

  “She figured right.”

  He stretched his long body on the bed. The springs squeaked, and the pine headboard rattled against the wall. His eyes darted to mine, the edge of his long mouth curling up. I rocked hard into the mattress, and the squeaking intensified, the headboard knocking harder against the wall. I laughed, and it felt good to laugh. Manic laughter, but what the hell? I almost wasn’t sure what was so damn funny, but it still felt good.

  A low chuckle scraped from his throat as he propped himself up on an arm, his free hand resting on my torso. “How are you really doing?”

  “Right now, confused and anxious about my brother and the new shitstorm he’s brewed up. I had to call you in. You were going to find out anyway, but I couldn’t take the chance that they’d—”

  “You did right. Better I handle this now, as it’s happening, rather than later when shit blows up and gets out of control, according to every dumb fuck’s perception of events.”

  His hand roamed over my abdomen and slid under my shirt, heating my skin. I squeezed my legs together.

  “Well, after tonight, everyone will think differently of me.”

  “That was the point.”

  “I imagine the men will keep at least a five-mile distance from me from now on.”

  “You sound disappointed. Were you after Jack cock tonight?”

  I laughed. “Well, that aspiration is shot to shit now, isn’t it?”

  Actually, that was shot to shit when I first laid eyes on Nina and heard the words, That’s Butler’s old lady. A gong had struck, and I got the message.

  Butler’s bleak face as he’d watched Jump drag Nina around by the hair earlier flashed before me. He was in pain.

  What the hell is he going to do about Nina now? Will they break up? Will he forgive her?

  Finger’s hand cupped a breast, and my breath caught as he stroked over the material of my bra. For such a fierce lone wolf, he could be gentle.

  “Who’s the lucky asshole?”

  He squeezed my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I gasped at the sudden bite of pain.

  Gentle sometimes.

  “Forget it. I’m trying to.” I took in a breath, enjoying the zings of arousal tripping through me, my eyes glued to his.

  The slow rip of the zipper on the side of my skirt made my lungs bunch together.

  “Finger,” I whispered.

  “Tania.” His voice was gruff, hoarse.

  “You could have had one of those women in there, if not two or three, no problem, to service your needs. I cut into your action tonight.”

  “Yeah, what a fucking shame. Make it up to me.”

  He slid my silky tunic top up my torso and pulled a breast from a bra cup, kneading it, his jaw tightening. My breath stuttered at the harsh look on his face. He lowered his head, taking the nipple in his mouth.

  I gasped, my back arching. “Have I ever said no to you before?” I whispered.

  “Never.” He glanced at me—his face passive, stoic—as he licked, sucked. “Have I ever forced you?”

  “Never.”

  “After you got hitched and I didn’t hear from you again, I didn’t call you no more, did I?” His voice was even as he stroked me into oblivion.

  Tight coils of pleasure wound through me, and heat wrapped around me like warm velvet as my hands fisted the thin quilt. All the pressure of the evening that had built into a tight knot inside my body, my head, now unraveled and built into something else, something that beckoned me to be a part of my destruction.

  One ticket. One-way only.

  “I missed you,” I murmured, squirming on the bed. “Missed this.”

  His hand slid over my panties, cupping me. “You been faithful to your husband all these years?”

  My eyes held his iron gaze. “Yes.”

  “Still married?”

  “Getting a divorce.”

  His face darkened. “Fuck him.”

  His hand slid under my panty, his fingers hitting flesh, dragging through me. The silky fabric on my skin flew down my legs and off my feet. The mattress dipped and shook, and I blinked. Finger stood over me at the edge of the bed, snapping off his dirty leathers, a thick eyebrow raised, his intense eyes glimmering.

 
“All these years later, Tania, and you still fucking do it for me.”

  A lazy grin curled my lips. “Hallelujah.”

  His clothes fell to the floor. My eyes took in his naked body, and my face heated.

  Finger was several years older than me, which put him in his mid to late forties, and he was still in amazing shape, like I’d remembered. Contoured thick muscles marred by ugly, jagged scars and so many dramatic tattoos were all over his suntanned chest, arms, and torso, hardly a spot of bare flesh left. His body was virile, powerful. A body that screamed experience, strength, capability, threat.

  His fingers stroked his cock that stood at rigid attention against his abs.

  Yes, I could have that cock right now.

  I’d missed that cock. Badly.

  Fuck logic, screw sense, damn goodgirlitis.

  I sat up on my elbows, my mouth dry. “Finger,” I breathed.

  His hand pumped his cock. “You want it?”

  Heat pulsed through my veins. My pulse screamed at me as it zoomed past.

  We were picking up where we’d left off eleven years ago.

  For years, Finger and I would meet in diners and truck stops and motel rooms down highways all over the Midwest. Once, as far away as New Mexico, when I had been on vacation with a girlfriend, and another time in Nashville, where I’d been on business.

  Quick, intense.

  We had stayed in touch since the very first time we had met by fateful chance in a gas station outside of Tripp, South Dakota, almost two decades ago after I’d left Meager behind. A moment that had changed my life. But it was years later when it had turned into hook-ups between us.

  Frequent hook-ups.

  We would hook up to fuck away our disappointments, our missed connections. We’d fuck to reconnect to the trust and sorrow that bound us. We would meet to drop the wizard’s curtain for a spot of relief, for however long it would be, either one whole night or only an hour or two. Maybe twenty minutes even, like that time in a restaurant restroom in Indiana.

  We’d converse little at each of these encounters. Pleasantries were unnecessary with Finger, and I’d realized it would only serve to make things awkward. We would exchange basic information here and there, always ignore each other’s usual moodiness, and let our bodies do what they did, what they needed.