Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4)

by Cat Porter

  Finger would push me to try new things, and with him, I’d let go of my inhibitions and self-consciousness. I never felt judged with him, like I did with other men. He wouldn’t show off. He wouldn’t say stupid, superfluous things to compliment me or my body. He wouldn’t put on a performance. No bullshit. Ever. Sometimes, it sucked, when I was feeling sorry for myself, but mostly, mostly, I liked it.

  Our encounters were a slap of cold water or a soothing hot bath. Either way, they were always good.

  And not too many frills either. We didn’t kiss very much. He’d hold me down or hold me up, keeping me immobile against him, turning me every which way he wanted. I’d only grip an arm or a shoulder of his to steady myself as best I could during the onslaught. Surrendering to him, to his innate authority felt good. Liberating.

  I never expected post-coital soft kisses of affection or delicate caresses, and there were none. Only tight grips, firm holds, and insistent strokes.

  From what little he had told me, he would go through girlfriends and old ladies like water. Only with two of them had he not cheated with me, but soon enough, they’d be gone, too. I was sure his emotional coldness was the reason. But all that wasn’t for me to judge. We both had our reasons and our demons.

  I knew he wasn’t a cold, hard bastard inside because all this was about her and always would be. Like for me, fucking him was a purely selfish escape, exhilarating for the moment. Reckless, void of responsibility to anyone but me. My secret joyride. A ride removed from the mundane everyday where I dared to take a risk or two or three. I needed that.

  I’d fallen in love for the first time in college, but then that relationship had collapsed after two years. That first love wound was no joke. Later, I’d dated, and I’d slept with the ones I really liked and was attracted to, but I’d left those relationships more often than I took them on. No one ever pulled me in with a fever the way I always craved.

  Finger and I weren’t in love, never would be, but we liked each other as people, were attracted to each other, and shared a kinship that I knew, for me, I’d never felt with anyone before or since. He was a constant I could trust, and that was good; it was enough. There was no question of a relationship between us; there was no way he could fit into my life or me into his, and truly, I wasn’t interested in that with him. I honored our way together for what it was. I never expected more, and he appreciated that. Most of all, I respected him, and he knew it and respected me back; that was what really mattered.

  Only once, over a shared joint, I’d asked him if he’d seen her, his first love wound, and his face had darkened, his body stiffened.

  “Yeah, once,” he’d said, wincing. He’d gotten out of bed, got dressed, and strode right out the motel room door without another word. He’d climbed onto his bike, making it roar with a ferocity. That old Harley, that cacophonous metal animal, spun him onto the road and into a blur of power and liberty and force.

  And forgetting. I’d never mentioned her again.

  I’d met Kyle and been totally smitten, and we’d gotten serious quickly. I’d told Finger about it over the phone as I clutched my winter coat against the freezing wind at a pay phone on Michigan Avenue in Chicago eleven years ago and declined his invite to meet after getting his text message.

  “You be happy, Tania.”

  “I will. I want you to be happy, too.”

  My remark had been met with silence, and the line had gone dead.

  Those were the last words we’d exchanged until a few months back when I’d stepped through the massive gates of his clubhouse in Nebraska with Grace and plunged back into Finger World, a world that had now become my brother’s, too. Our connection would not ever be severed, it seemed.

  I had never asked him for anything in return, yet all through the years, he had offered me his help with anything I might want, like entertainment drugs or money when I was between jobs more often than not, no strings attached. I never took anything from him though. But I knew in my gut that if I ever needed him, really needed him, he’d be there for me.

  Like tonight.

  Finger rubbed himself with quick, hard strokes. His long cock was stiff in his hand now, the tip engorged, wet. Ready. He licked at his bottom lip.

  This wasn’t reconnecting though.

  This was me being frustrated, angry, pissed, jealous.

  And I knew, I knew this was Finger being frustrated, angry, pissed, jealous.

  Even though Butler was as good as married and going through a soap-opera drama, I liked him. A lot. I couldn’t get him out of my head. And having sex with Finger wasn’t going to change that. It would only mess with me.

  Furthermore, I wasn’t the lonely young woman I used to be a decade ago. I was stronger now. I wanted something real, something I knew was worth waiting for. That was why I was getting a divorce. That was why I was here in South Dakota. And even though a relationship with Butler wasn’t possible, the time I’d spent with him as a friend and in that motel bed had shown me that something real, something good, something of worth was possible for me.

  I’d moved back home to simplify my life and to be and do the things that I really wanted, to be fearless in that quest, not to take the middle road after eleven years of doing just that. Not to be complacent, under the radar. No, no more. Not any longer.

  Finger nudged my legs open with one of his, his large hand pumping hard over his dick.

  My breath shorted as he leaned down and kissed me, our eyes on each other, his cock rubbing down my middle to my—

  I gripped his arms. “We can’t do this. Not now. Not anymore. We had our time, you and me, and I liked it. I fucking loved it. But we shouldn’t go back there.”

  He rose, and I sat up on the edge of the bed and took his hands in mine. I kissed the left, the right. Just above where the middle fingers were missing.

  “I don’t want to go backward with you. I want you in my life—you are; you will always be in my life—but I need to keep moving forward. We both do.”

  He pulled his hands from mine.

  I tugged at my bra, pulling my shirt down. “You know she’s here, don’t you? I saw her. Talked to her. She’s good friends with Grace now. She has a business here in town. She’s—”

  “I know.” His heavy voice shot through my chest, its dark tone lodging there, filling me with dread.

  “Of course you know.”

  “I’ve always known.” His eyes flared, and my stomach clenched at the sight. “Were you going to say anything?”

  “I saw her for the first time a few weeks ago when Grace introduced us. She pulled me aside and asked me not to say anything to anybody. Hell, I don’t know what to say when it comes to you two. You had it all, and you both let it go.”

  “You call that having it all?”

  “From where I’m standing today? Right now? You bet I do.”

  “You called me to come here, knowing she was here?”

  I shot to my feet. “I had to call you. My brother’s life was on the line.”

  “You did good, babe.”

  I rubbed my hands down my face. “Everything’s different now. Tell me it isn’t.”

  We stared at each other. Finger reached out, his hand cupping my chin. He leaned down, brushed my lips with his, and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. He left me and went into the bathroom. The shower turned on.

  I fell back on the bed and curled up on the mattress. I squeezed my eyes shut, but those vivid crystal blue eyes still stared at me. Hurt. Fervent. Angry.

  Would I ever be able to blot them out?

  What was Butler doing now? Fucking his old lady back into submission? Punishing her with his cock? Drowning his pain in booze?

  Please, not that.

  But it had nothing to do with me. Nothing.

  In fact, I was sure the One-Eyed Jacks probably hated me now and would never trust me again. Even Grace was ticked at me.

  I turned over on the bed and squashed my face into the pillow. My breathing evened out to
the steady drone of the shower water.

  Exhaustion.

  I gave in.

  “ARE YOU INSANE? What the hell are you doing?”

  Nina shuddered from where she sat on the middle of my bed at the club, wiping the tears from her face. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. We were just fooling around.”

  “Just fooling around?” A blade of fire ripped through the muscles across my back. “You’re not supposed to be doing anything with anybody, you little idiot!”

  “It started out as flirting, a game.”

  “A game? A man from another MC is not a game. You know better.”

  “I know. I do. I just—I’ve never been so attracted to anyone before.” Nina’s face crumpled. “Not like this.”

  “Jesus. There’s more to life than fucking and getting off!”

  “This isn’t like that! It’s—I barely understand it. I can’t get enough of him. I need him.”

  “Is it really so difficult for you to keep your fucking panties on?”

  “I just want to be with him. All the time. He makes me feel like—”

  “Whoa, she feels, ladies and gentlemen! Nina Scott actually feels things.”

  “Shut up! That’s not fair.”

  “Fair? You have no fucking idea,” I spit out.

  I had chosen to be with Nina because I’d assumed I was done, and yet now I was careening through feelings and emotions for a woman I couldn’t have. Was it fair to suddenly feel things I hadn’t felt in years? Was it fair to fumble with possibility, curiosity, excitement, and tenderness at the very time that I had all my big plans in place? Was it fair that the one person who made me actually want to wake up in the morning and face the day, the one person who made me realize all that possibility, was, right this minute, in a bed down the hall, fucking someone else? A someone else who was a formidable ally and potential opponent.

  Motherfuck.

  Nina sniffled, her red eyes wild with emotion. And fear, too. Yes, fear of this new pull in her heart, a heart that had never been clawed at and ripped into shreds before.

  Yeah, I knew that fear well.

  “What are you saying? You in love with him?”

  “Yes,” she cried. Tears streamed down her face, her chest heaved.

  It’s a fucking whirlwind, ain’t it, baby?

  “Welcome to the real world, Nina, where feelings are genuine, and they are felt right through your goddamn soul. Feelings overwhelm you, and they can drown you, Feelings cut deep, and you fucking bleed. The one thing they aren’t is fair.”

  “I know I fucked up. Fucked up bad. I’m sorry. But I can’t…I can’t do this anymore,” she said through ragged, hiccupy breaths, her arms wrapped around her middle, as if she were freezing.

  “Tough shit. You can’t just cut and run. We had a deal. You fucked it up.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Do I have to remind you that you have just as much at stake in this as I do?”

  “I’m pregnant!”

  “What?” That fist tightened in my chest, that nausea rolled in my gut.

  “I’m—”

  “I heard you!” I steadied myself. “Is it mine?”

  She shook her head. “No. No, it’s his.”

  “You sure?”

  “I went to this clinic place. I’m seven weeks pregnant. You and I haven’t…for a long time now.”

  “Ah, shit.” I leaned over and sucked in a breath. “But you’re on the pill. How the hell—”

  “Remember when I got sick a couple of months ago, and I had to go on those antibiotics? I forgot to take a pill or two, and I think the medicine interferes with it anyway.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry!”

  I wiped at the prickle of sweat over my forehead and dragged a hand through my hair. “Sorry gets us nowhere. When Reich hears about you cheating on me—and he will—what are you going to say? You know your sister will be calling you. What are you going to tell her?”

  She wiped at the tears on her face. “I’ll tell her what I told everyone out there tonight. That Catch came on to me. We were at a party, and he was drunk, and I’d been drinking, too. We flirted, and Catch took it as an invite. Fuck, Deanna knows how I am. This won’t be a stretch for her to believe.” She bit down on the corner of her mouth, rocking back and forth. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “Nothing’s gonna be the same again. Nothing.”

  “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry,” she wailed.

  “Shit had finally settled down with us and the Flames. And now…fuck. You going to keep the baby? I mean, what do you want to do? You going to tell Catch?”

  “I want to keep it. I want…” She started crying again.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “Look, for the time being, you can’t tell Catch about the baby. If you do, he’s going to come bulldozing over here to get to you. And that can’t happen just yet.”

  “Right.” She grabbed a tissue from her handbag and blew her nose.

  “You lay low, hang out with Jill, the other old ladies, and be the good girl. No going out at night to bars or clubs anymore, not even a movie. When you hang out with them, I mean, only coffee, lunch, their houses, babysit for them, but that’s it. Nothing more.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, pushing her hair behind her ears.

  “For a fucking change, you need to keep your mouth shut and be the quiet good girl on the block. Can you do that?”

  Her watery eyes met mine. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And you’re going to have to play the guilty card, too. Be humbled, ashamed, remorseful, so I don’t lose face by hanging on to you. You convince them that you want to stay with me, that you’re bending over backward for me. That you know you fucked up royally. This needs to stay real, goddamn it. At least for a little while longer. You got that?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Stay the fuck away from him.”

  “Okay!”

  I gripped her chin. “Do. You. Understand?”

  She blinked. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”

  I released her. “I fucking hope so. For both our sakes.”

  “TANIA.”

  I unglued my eyes. Finger hovered over me.

  My body jerked up in the bed. “What is it? Did something happen? Is Catch—”

  “He’s fine. I have to go into town. It’s early yet. You stay here with your brother. My men will be here, and I’m counting on you to keep shit cool until I get back. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours. Depends.”

  I grabbed his arm, and his eyes narrowed at me.

  “Please, be kind to her.”

  “Tania, all I’ve ever wanted was the best for her.”

  “I know,” I breathed.

  “Listen, you be careful with what you say out there. Don’t say shit. After last night, they won’t know what to say to you anyhow.”

  “Right. This should be fun. You know, I’m really surprised you haven’t cut my brother loose from the Flames.”

  “Why? He’s a good, loyal brother. He’s got balls. He’s also good with numbers. Real good.”

  I swung my legs out of the bed. “My brother?”

  “Yeah.” Finger shoved on his boots. “He’s gotten us out of a few tight spots.”

  “Oh. Good. Glad to hear it.”

  “I have plans for Catch. But he keeps fucking up with his bitch dramas. And I don’t think this was any ordinary pussy run, but now, he’s not giving two shits about much else. Talk to him.”

  “I will. He’s totally devoted to your club—to you, most of all.”

  “I don’t question that. But he’s got to keep his goddamn dick in check.”

  “I don’t think this was just about his dick or some grand plan. I think he might actually like her.”

  Finger adjusted his bandana over his head and tied it in the back. “He needs to focus. I don’t want to be questioning his choices anymore. This is getting old.”

  “I think you know what that’s like, saying to hell wi
th it for a woman. The woman.”

  He shot me a sharp glance as he unlocked the door. “You make sure your brother is ready to ride by the time I get back.”

  The door slammed.

  Grace and Alicia sat at the bar, drinking from large white mugs.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  Alicia wordlessly slid a mug in front of me and poured coffee in it. Jump, Bear, and several other Jacks stood, holding their mugs, talking with the two Flames of Hell men. They stared at me.

  “Is it?” Grace asked, her tone pricking like a needle on skin.

  Here we go.

  “The sun is shining. We’re alive. That’s a big yes in my book.”

  Grace frowned at me. “Tania…”

  I sipped on the strong black coffee. “I know Finger.”

  “Obviously! Since when? You avoided my questions when we saw him in Nebraska. So, now what? You have an ongoing thing? Or is this new? You’ve been married for over ten years. Were you—”

  “Grace!”

  “We’re talking about Finger here, Tania,” she said, lowering her voice. “The president of one of the most powerful chapters of the Flames of Hell. Not just any ole biker from any ole MC. It’s me you’re talking to here—the old lady, twice over. Your oldest friend, whom you used to yell at for talking to a biker, let alone liking one, sleeping with one, marrying one. Now, spill!”

  “Could you please—”

  “And how could you keep this from me?”

  “Do I really have to explain that to you, Mrs. One-Eyed Jack?”

  “That, I get, but as your friend, it hurts.”

  “I’m sorry. Really.”

  Damn, I hate this.

  She took in a breath. “Apology accepted. Moving on. Spill.”

  I’d prepped the story in my head from the moment Finger had walked out the door this morning. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. I couldn’t tell anyone. I’d been keeping it a secret all these years for a good reason, and even though I trusted Grace with my life, I couldn’t spill this secret.

  “I met Finger through my brother when he first started hanging out with the Flames. I came home just before I got married, and Drew was prospecting then. I went down to Nebraska to see him and tell him my news in person, and that’s when I met the Grand Master himself.”