Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology

by Lane Hart

  But the sound of it rolls over and over in my mind. Stacia. It’s a secret. A confidence. A sign that I’ve broken through one of the walls that she’s built so high around herself.

  I know Six would never have asked me for help with the piece of shit who’s stalking her. Or anyone else, for that matter. Hell, she was willing to pack up and leave town before she’d let anyone else in. This girl is used to going it alone. If I hadn’t been with her when she got home tonight, she would have been gone without a trace, and I’d never have seen her again.

  The thought hits me like a shot to the gut, to know how close I came to losing her.

  It’s kind of fucked up to be worrying about losin’ some chick you hardly know, Bull.

  Except Six isn’t just some chick.

  There’s something about this girl. And it’s more than the fact she’s a hot piece of ass.

  It’s true, I know next to nothing about her.

  But I want to know more. A lot more.

  And for now, the best way to get there is to make sure she doesn’t get freaked out and leave town. Because this girl has gotten damn good at disappearing, and I sure as shit don’t want her disappearing on me.

  When we get to my place, she doesn’t talk much. I can tell she’s a little freaked out at the idea of staying with me. She hesitates in the doorway like she doesn’t want to intrude. And even though I tell her to make herself at home, she looks like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.

  Six deposits her backpack on the floor next to one corner of the couch. She pulls off her oversized leather jacket and sets it down, too. Her expression is pinched, and it’s pretty obvious that tonight has taken a toll on her. “I, um… could I just get a blanket for the couch?” she asks hesitantly. “I’m sort of tired. If you don’t mind, maybe I’ll just go to sleep.”

  In spite of myself, I roar with laughter, so loud it startles her. “What the fuck, Six? You ain’t sleepin’ on my couch. Come on,” I growl, picking up her backpack. “The bed’s big enough for two.”

  “Are you sure?” she swallows, reddening. “I mean… you don’t have to…”

  “Don’t be dumb,” I cut her off. “I’m not havin’ you sleep out here. And I sure as hell ain’t sleeping on the couch, either.” Then I see the troubled look on her face and try to sound more gentle. “Come on, Six. You said you’re tired. Don’t overthink this.”

  I don’t wait for an answer. I figure she’ll follow me since I have her stuff. Turns out, I’m right. When I get to my bedroom, I toss her backpack on the mattress and turn around. She’s standing in the doorway again, looking like she’s waiting for an invitation. I cock my head at her, and she seems to realize what she’s doing.

  “Sorry,” she murmurs, and steps through the door.

  “It ain’t much. And I wasn’t expecting visitors,” I rumble, nodding toward the unmade king-size bed.

  “It’s… great.” She gives me a tiny smile. “Thank you, Bullet.”

  Six bends over and rummages in her backpack, pulling out a toothbrush and a tube of paste. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”

  “Bathroom’s through there,” I say, pointing.

  “Thanks,” she nods. She takes a step toward the hallway, and then stops. “Oh!”

  “What is it?”

  “I, um…” She purses her lips. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

  “No, I’m not. What is it?”

  “I…” She exhales softly. “I forgot to bring something to sleep in.”

  I burst out laughing again.

  Six rolls her eyes. “I told you you were gonna laugh at me,” she mutters.

  I clear my throat and try to stop. “Look, darlin’, I’m sorry, but if you don’t want me to laugh, don’t say such stupid shit. Do I have to remind you where my tongue’s been?”

  “Could you not… say that quite so crudely?”

  “Oh, darlin’, that ain’t crude. Crude would be…”

  “Stop! Lalalalalalalala!” Six cringes and claps her hands over her ears.

  “Okay, okay!” I chuckle. “But enough with the ‘I don’t have a flannel nightie’ bullshit.”

  Six mumbles something I don’t catch and makes a break for the bathroom. Chuckling, I go out into the living room to give her some space. While I’m out there, I get a call from Hale about some club business, so I step outside to take it. By the time I get back inside about ten minutes later, the bathroom’s empty. I go into the bedroom to see how Six is doing.

  She’s lying in bed, the covers pulled up around her. Fast asleep.

  I snort and shake my head as I kick off my boots and strip off my clothes. To say tonight did not go according to plan would be the understatement of the damn year.

  Still, even though I was really looking forward to getting back between those thighs of hers, there’s something to be said about seeing her there, in my bed, looking about as relaxed as I’ve ever seen her.

  I push back the covers and get in beside her, trying to ignore the hard-on I’ve been dealin’ with since before she went into the bathroom. As if on cue, Six sighs deeply and turns toward me, curling her body into the space between my arm and my side. I stifle a groan as my cock grows harder. Jesus Christ, going to sleep next to her is gonna be damn near impossible without fuckin’ her beforehand.

  This is a first, for sure. In fact, it’s a whole night of firsts.

  I should be pissed. Not at her, but at myself. The rational part of my brain is telling me I’m a goddamn idiot for bringing a woman I barely know to stay at my house, for Christ knows how long.

  I don’t bring women home. Not even to fuck. And sure as hell not to stay.

  Then again, I’ve never wanted to before now.

  And shit, there’s no way I could have left Six alone in her apartment after her piece of shit ex broke in. I wasn’t about to bring her to a hotel, either. Especially because I’m sure she would have skipped town during the night, even if I managed to promise her not to. The only way I can keep her here in Tanner Springs is if I keep an eye on her. She might think she’s safer leaving, but I know she ain’t safe anywhere else, either.

  If I’m gonna protect her, I need to keep her close.

  But that’s not the only reason I want her here. Much as I hate to admit it.

  I want her here for me. Because I don’t want to lose her. Not like this.

  I don’t know where this shit is going with me and Six. But I plan to find out. And no piece of shit ex-boyfriend with a boundary problem is gonna fuck with that.

  The next morning, Six wakes up just as I’m getting up to go take a shower. Apparently, a good night’s sleep has put her in a good mood, because the first thing she does is cut me a sly glance as I’m standing up from the bed.

  “Is that for me?” She gives me a wicked look.

  I glance down at my cock, which is still at half-staff. “It sure as hell can be. You wanna join me in the shower?”

  Six bites her lip. “That’s one heck of an invitation. Not sure I can resist it.”

  Half an hour later, we’ve probably used up ninety percent of the water in Tanner Springs.

  “Being clean never felt so dirty,” Six quips as I toss her a towel. “Is this how you’re gonna wake me up every morning?”

  “I guess you’re gonna have to find out,” I wink back at her. But even though my tone is joking, I gotta admit I like the sound of that more than I thought I would.

  Waking her up every morning.

  Huh.

  I instruct Six to call in sick to work and stay locked in at my place. She starts to protest but I manage to convince her by promising her it’s just for one day.

  Then I drive to the clubhouse to find Angel. I tell him as much as I know about Six’s douchebag ex-boyfriend, and ask my prez for a couple men to watch over Six at my place, and keep an eye on her apartment.

  Angel agrees without hesitating. “Whatever you need, brother, you let me know. Who do you want?”

  I pause. “
Striker and Tank. That oughta be enough for now.”

  He nods. “You got it.”

  I go round up the men and tell them what I have in mind. I ask Striker and Tank to switch off standing watch outside her apartment building for a day or two. I’m going to follow Six myself, including when she’s at work, so I know she’s always safe.

  When I go back to my place to tell Six about the surveillance I have set up, I ask her to give me a description of the piece of shit she calls Flash, whose actual name is Sam. She tells me he’s got the looks of a frat boy, with light blond hair in a floppy eighties cut.

  “He’s about your height,” she continues, crossing her arms and squinting at me. “But a lot less muscular. And fewer tattoos.”

  “Got any pictures of him?”

  “No… well, wait.”

  Six uncrosses her legs and gets up off the couch. Padding into the bedroom, she returns a few seconds later with her laptop. She pulls it open and sits back down. I watch as she frowns at the screen, types in a website, then spends a couple of minutes clicking through some screens and typing some more.

  “There,” she finally says, turning the computer to me.

  I lean forward and take a look. It’s what appears to be a governmental records website. A picture of an asshole-looking blond guy stares back at me. Underneath it, a name, date of birth, and a bunch of other details show on the screen.

  “‘Sam Randall’,” I read, and then calculate his age from the birthdate listed there. “No middle name. Thirty-three years old. What the fuck is this, Six?” I ask. “Did you hack into some cop website?”

  “Nah,” she laughs. “No hacking necessary. Finding this stuff is nothing that complicated. It’s easy to find, as long as you know where to look. But…” she hesitates. “If you need me to find any less publicly available info on Flash, I can do that, too.”

  “What else can you do?” I ask, raising a brow.

  “Well,” she continues slowly. “I can create enough documentation to allow me to get ID cards under different names with enough backup in the system to satisfy anyone doing a background check.”

  “Holy shit,” I marvel. “I’ll have to introduce you to Tweak.”

  “Who?”

  “Our MC’s resident hacker and all-around computer genius.” I chuckle. “Then again, if I do introduce you to him, he’s likely to propose to you on the spot.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bullet

  “Above all,” I tell Six, “just act normally. Like no one’s following you. But I’ll be there all the time. You’re not in any danger. Anything happens with this piece of shit — if he gets anywhere near you — I’ll be on him like white on rice.”

  At first, Six continues to protest, saying she doesn’t want to put me or the MC out by having us watch her. But in the end, I think the prospect of finally being able to stop running from her ex makes her stop arguing. I don’t talk at all about the two of us, and she doesn’t bring it up, either. This ain’t the time for touchy-feely conversation. It’s easier — and less complicated — just to focus on the task at hand: bringing down this douchebag who calls himself Flash.

  Nothing happens for two days. Six goes back to work, and everything returns to normal except that she continues to stay at my place. There’s no activity at her apartment building, so I call off Tank and Striker and tell them I’ll be in touch if I need backup.

  On the third day, she runs out of clean clothes, so she texts me from Rebel Ink and tells me she wants to go back to her apartment after her shift to grab some stuff. I get there before her, and let myself in the back door of the building with the duplicate keys she’s given me. I don’t think Douchebag is smart enough to have noticed the Lords have been keeping an eye on the building, but just in case I drive over in a cage and leave my cut in the trunk. I do a quick eyeball perimeter check and don’t see anything unusual, then go inside and clear Six’s apartment. No one’s there.

  I climb into her small walk-in closet and crack the door just an inch, then pull myself into a squat behind the clothes to wait.

  About fifteen minutes after the end of Six’s shift, the key turns in the lock of the recently repaired door. The light, quick steps on the carpet tell me it’s her. Six knows I’m in here — I promised her I would be — but I’ve instructed her not to say a word to me or let on in any way.

  She pads through the living room, picking up an object or two, then comes into the bedroom. I hear a bag being set on the bed, and the sound of a zipper. More light footsteps, then a dresser drawer opening. I stay where I am, still poised for attack. Suddenly, the closet door creaks, and Six’s face appears. She starts to reach toward the clothes hanging in front of her, then her body stiffens as she turns and sees me. Her eyes open wide as she starts and suppresses a cry, then flashes me an angry look whose meaning is clear. You scared me!

  I lift one shoulder and give her a smirk. Sorry, babe.

  Shaking her head slightly, she pulls something off of a hanger and slips back out again.

  I stifle a snort of amusement and start to draw myself back into my crouch, when a thud and a cry out in the hall sends me bolting to my feet. I spring out of the closet just in time to see Six struggling to fight off Flash, who has one arm around her throat and another wrenching her arm behind her back.

  With a roar, I launch myself at him, ripping him away from Six just as he turns toward me in shock. I pull back and throw the most satisfying fucking punch of my life, connecting squarely with his jaw and laying him out cold on the carpet.

  For a second, there’s silence. Then, a high burble of laughter emerges from Six’s throat.

  “Well, that didn’t take very long,” she murmurs, and then starts to giggle helplessly. Her voice is shaking, probably from the quick jolt of adrenaline her body no longer needs. She looks down at the prone figure of her ex-boyfriend, and the dribble of blood emerging from his mouth. “You’re gonna make me lose my damage deposit if that gets on the carpet,” she laughs between half-hysterical breaths.

  I put my arm around Six and rub her shoulders for a second. To her credit, she calms right down. I ask her if she has any rope, and she goes out of the room and brings back a roll of duct tape. “Will this work?”

  “Perfect.”

  I bind his hands and feet, and then we prop him up on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. Flash doesn’t move or stir as the blood from his mouth trickles down to stain his shirt. “How hard did you hit him?” Six asks.

  “Not as hard as I wanted to,” I growl. Leaning down, I slap him across the face with the back of my hand. He groans, his head lolling to one side.

  “Wake the fuck up, princess,” I bark. “It’s show time.”

  Flash pries his eyes open, squinting up at us as he comes to. He seems to register where he is all at once, because his face goes from confusion to rage in a millisecond.

  “What the fuck?” he roars, wrenching at the tape binding his wrists. He tries to lunge toward us.

  “Breaking into a lady’s apartment is a dick move, junior.” I lift up a boot and plant it in his chest, kicking him backwards. “You really that hard up for pussy?”

  “Fuck you,” he coughs out, trying to catch his breath.

  “Jesus, Flash,” Six blurts, reaching for my arm just as I start toward him. “Do you want him to break your jaw? Or worse?”

  “Here’s the thing, junior,” I begin. As calmly as I can, I detach Six’s hand from my bicep and squat down. “You’re stalking a woman who’s under my protection. You’ve broken into her place twice now. I saw you trying to hurt her.” I stare daggers into his eyes. “You’re proving to be a problem. I don’t like problems. The way I deal with them is, I remove them. You get me?”

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone, Flash?” Six cries. “It’s not like you were even that into me when we were together. Why can’t you just take no for an answer? My God. Please, just move on!”

  But instead of answering, Douchebag jus
t opens his bloody mouth and starts to laugh.

  “Fuck you, Stace,” he snarls. “You ain’t all that. You weren’t even that good in bed. I could have a hundred bitches better than you any day of the week. I don’t give a shit about you. What I want is the key!”

  Six gapes at him. “What key?”

  “The key that was in my goddamn jacket when you stole it, you bitch!”

  Six raises her hands in a sweeping gesture. “Flash, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t have any damn key! There was no key in your jacket!”

  Douchebag’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you fuckin’ serious? Oh, Jesus Christ!” He starts to laugh again. “Are you really so fucking stupid that you took off with it and never even fuckin’ knew it?”

  He continues to howl with helpless laughter. My fists clench as I step toward him, eager to flatten his goddamn nose and shatter the cartilage into useless shards. “Listen, fuckface,” I shout, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him up onto the bed. “We’re done having fuckin’ social hour. What. Fucking. Key?”

  “Look,” Flash grins. The blood stains his teeth red, making him look like a skinny demon. “There’s a key sewn into that leather jacket Stace stole from me.”

  Six’s eyes meet mine. Mutely, she goes out to the living room and brings in the oversized jacket she’s always wearing.

  “That’s his?” I growl, suppressing a pang of jealousy.

  Flash’s eyes widen greedily when he sees it. “There. It should be sewn into the bottom part, by the left pocket.”

  Six feels around toward the bottom of the jacket. Her fingers stop as they grasp something hard. Silently, she nods at me.

  “Give it to me, and I’ll leave right now,” Flash wheedles.

  But I shake my head. “Rip it open,” I tell Six. “Let’s see it.”

  Six looks around and then grabs a ball point pen that’s sitting on her dresser. She slides it under the thread and rips enough of it out that she’s able to work the key out from the hem. Once it’s free of the hem, she holds it up to show me.