Sexy Bastards Anthology: Bad Boy, Biker, Alpha, Motorcycle Club, Contemporary Romance Collection

by Lexy Timms

  She obliged and carried both to the table. There were plates already on and cutlery spread out. With nothing else she could see to do, she sat down and waited.

  Minutes later, silent minutes later, he placed a heap of food on the table in front of her.

  The smell wafted toward her, making her realize how long it had been since she’d had a bite to eat.

  “Are the police going to be looking for you?”

  A good question. It was an easy one to answer. She shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “No one will report me missing.”

  “Good. That simplifies things. And you have no family, so you don’t need to notify anyone you are safe. Or do you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I worked at the liquor store, but they have lots of transient staff. I doubt they’d even notice past me not showing up for my shift.”

  Except…

  He saw the look on her face and correctly interpreted it. “What?”

  Replacing her fork on the plate, she said, “I need my paycheck.”

  “It’s not deposited into your account?”

  “No, he paid cash at the end of the shift.”

  He eyed her as he popped bacon into his mouth. “So he doesn’t owe you anything at this point.”

  She frowned and toyed with the food on her plate. “That’s true, but I need some money of my own.”

  “I can see it would help you to feel independent. We can look at that after you heal.” He chewed through a bit of food. “Did you think I didn’t notice how you hold your arm? The bruising has gone down some. Am I correct in assuming it’s not broken?”

  She stared at her right arm. “It might be. He broke it the first time over six months ago, so it’s never really had a chance to fully heal.”

  “He always targeted it?” This time anger in his voice had her shooting him a quick look. except that outside of being angry, he appeared to be in control.

  Relieved, she nodded. “That injury and others. He avoided hitting me where anyone could see. So I wasn’t allowed to go swimming or wear shorts or anything that showed skin. Not that he didn’t want anyone to see me, but that he didn’t want anyone to see my bruises."

  “And you had no one to help you?”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  She fell silent at hearing her use of past tense. Was she already seeing things differently now that she was here with him? What did that say about her?

  Was it distance that made the difference? Or was it Cash? Or maybe the dump from the bridge gave her new perspective. It had given her a second chance and a reality check, something she’d badly needed. Now she knew there was an option. If that could happen, how much else was out there that she didn’t know about?

  And how could she find out?

  First she had to get away from Greg permanently. After that, she needed a way to make money so she could provide for herself. Or maybe that had to happen first. She glanced over at Cash and realized he was busy plowing through an impressive amount of food. She then glanced at her own plate and realized with surprise that it was almost empty. Good. She needed the strength for what was to come. Whatever that was.

  If he had money… would he lend her some so she could get established in another city? No, he wouldn’t. Why would he? He didn’t know her and what he did know wouldn’t impress him. To him, she’d been ready to walk away from everything to avoid dealing with her problems. Somehow it seemed worse when she looked at it that way. Besides, if she did borrow the money, it would take forever to earn enough to pay him back.

  He stood up and carried his plate to the kitchen.

  She was about to follow and wash up the dirty dishes when there was a heavy pounding on the door. She gasped, overcome with an icy fear. Had Greg found her already? How?

  She darted into the hallway and out of sight. Cash walked to the door and opened it.

  From her new position, she couldn’t see who was there, but there were harsh voices. She leaned forward, making sure to still keep out of sight.

  “Greg is missing his wife. Have you seen her?”

  Cash’s deep voice rumbled through the kitchen as he said, “Who? I barely know Greg and I haven’t met his wife – why would you ask me?”

  She curled up into a ball on the floor and rocked back and forth. Would he hand her over? Would he let something slip? Greg had always said he’d burn down the place she ran to and kill anyone that helped her.

  He would too. Dear God, what had she done? Cash had only been kind to her. He didn’t deserve to face Greg’s wrath. She tried to hear the rest of the conversation, but the words weren’t clear. She had no idea of her fate.

  Not until she was grabbed up by Cash and given a gentle shake. “Is Greg your husband?”

  Her teeth chattered but she managed to nod. Then she burst into tears. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have helped me. He’ll kill you now.”

  “I’m not a defenseless woman, and I am not afraid of that spineless wimp.” Cash appeared insulted by her comment.

  She stared at him in shock. “Aren't you afraid of what he’ll do?”

  Cash snorted. “No. The man is a sneak and a bastard. No one beats a woman and lets another man know. It’s always done in the shadows where no one would know him for the coward he is.”

  It was hard to stare into his anger and see it for what it was. Anger not at her, but at what had been done to her.

  He had done so much for her already. She wanted to do something for him, to help him in some way in return if she had time. But she had to keep him safe first. He wasn’t afraid of Greg, but that was because he was assuming that in a fight, Greg would be fair. And he wouldn’t be. If Greg knew she was here, he’d burn the house down with her in it.

  “He’s dangerous,” she whispered. “He’s not going to meet you in the middle of the street and have an old-fashioned shootout. He’ll shoot you in the back when you least expect it.”

  His gaze darkened. He gave her a clipped nod. “Good to know. Now let’s get the kitchen cleaned up.” He followed her into the kitchen and quickly loaded the dishwasher. She followed his lead, but questions churned in her mind.

  “Did anyone see you riding last night?”

  He stopped and looked over at her, the dishcloth still in his hand. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” She stared at him. “Not a good time for maybe.”

  “You’re worried about me?” He grinned a boyish grin that made her heart blip.

  “Of course,” she snapped in frustration that he wasn't taking this seriously enough. “You saved my life. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because of me.”

  That did it. He threw down the dishcloth and stalked out of the room. She stared after him in shock. What had she said? Done? She didn’t know if she was supposed to run after him or leave him alone. He confused her. And intrigued her.

  But he was the damnedest one for making her think of things she hadn’t thought she could have.

  Finishing the dishes, she stood in the center of the kitchen. What was she to do now?

  ***

  She didn’t know she’d insulted him. That was almost worse. Still, it wasn’t hard to understand as she barely knew him. Plus, she was still in shock over last night and where she'd landed. It was a joy to see her in this state of awareness. Already throwing off the shackles of her marriage and the mind control the bastard had done on her. She had no self-confidence and was alive with doubts, yet she was already standing straighter as she realized the next blow wasn’t coming to get her.

  The bastard, Greg, was a weak weasel. He’d definitely be the type to beat a woman.

  That Cash knew him caused a different set of problems.

  Why had Jones and Sam, both friends of Greg’s, come here? What did they know or suspect? And how could they have any suspicions? He’d not seen anyone last night, but it was possible he’d been seen returning with her on the bike. Greg’s house was in the next neighborhood, so it wasn't out of the possi
bility. But why didn’t Greg come on his own?

  Then again, that wasn’t his style. Greg was sneaky but not confrontational. At least not without backup. Cash glanced around the kitchen, wondering if they’d have seen any trace of her here. And if they had, what would Greg do?

  He wasn’t a fool, but neither was Cash. If Greg wanted to play hardball, then Cash would take him out. He wouldn’t let Greg’s wife be hurt. No, not his wife. Willow. He wouldn’t allow Willow to get hurt. She was Cash’s. And she’d know it soon. In the meantime, he had to keep her safe. She’d been through enough. He had to protect her from her husband. The asshole wasn’t going to get her back.

  A heavy pounding sounded on the front door.

  This time it would be Greg. Cash looked around. There were no signs of a female being present.

  Good.

  He opened the door. The door was slammed wide open and Greg, along with the two men who’d shown up earlier, barged in, striding past Cash as if they had the right to be in his house. He’d seen these strong arm tactics before. He wasn’t impressed.

  “Where the fuck is she?” Greg snarled.

  “Who?”

  “My wife, Willow.”

  “Hmmm. I heard she left you.” He said it with a snicker, standing arms crossed and legs wide. He waited.

  “She can’t leave. She’s my wife.”

  “A wife is not the same thing as a plate. Or a blanket. She’s a person with a right to make up her own mind, not a mindless possession.”

  “She is a mindless possession. She’s good to fuck and that’s it.”

  The other two men snickered.

  Cash, a bored look on his face, looked at each of them. “Is that how you treat women, too? In a cowardly way? Showing that you’re scared of them. Afraid of a little woman, are you?”

  The two men shifted uneasily and glanced at each other then over at Greg.

  “I’m not afraid of her,” Greg snarled.

  “Good, then let her come home on her own time and you won’t have to worry about being alone again,” Cash mocked.

  Greg’s face turned ugly. “Do you think this is a fucking joke?”

  “That you’ve lost a wife?” Cash tilted his head and then gave a decisive nod. “Yeah, it is actually.”

  The blow came from the left, but Cash was no longer there. He spun and caught Greg’s other arm and twisted it behind his back, then he marched him to the front door and threw him out. “Get the fuck out of my house and off my land.”

  He spun to the other two men both looking ready to get into the fight. He eyed them up and down. “Yeah, you’re also the kind to use a woman as a punching bag. Get the hell out, and don’t come back or I’ll take you apart piece by piece." They looked at each other, then at him, before silently walking out of the door.

  “I want my fucking wife,” Greg roared from the lawn.

  “Well, maybe if you treated her as something other than a punching bag, she might not have been so happy to leave you. Besides, she’s not here. Go knock on someone else’s door. If you come back here, you’ll get the fight you’re looking for."

  And he slammed the door.

  Hard.

  Chapter 7

  Oh no. Oh Lord. Willow curled up in the back of the closet, trembling as she waited for someone to come and rip her out of the room. Force her to face Greg and feel the blows on her skin. Oh God, what had she done? She should have jumped last night. Before Greg could find her. Or run this morning when she had the chance.

  No. She wouldn’t have gotten to know Cash as well then, and she didn’t want to miss that. He was different. She needed to know there were men out there like him. She wanted to spend more time with him, to get to know him even better.

  Hell, he was something the world needed more of – a good and strong yet caring man. Someone ready to protect the weak and defend the innocent and take on the bullies of the world.

  But he was too damn naïve. The bullies of the world were people like Greg, and they weren’t normal. They didn’t think like other people. They were sly cheaters and would get back at her when least expected.

  Cash might handle Greg and he might succeed in dealing with this mess right now, but Greg wouldn’t forget and neither would he let it go. Even if it took years, he’d get back at Cash.

  She had to protect Cash. He didn't know what he was dealing with.

  The sounds abated in the living room. Were they gone?

  No. Footsteps strode down the hallway toward her. They came straight to the closet and stopped.

  “Willow, you can come out now,” Cash said in a calm voice, but she could hear the tension threading through it.

  She clambered out from the back, shoving the clothes out of the way, and stared at him. “Is he gone?”

  Cash nodded “He’s gone, but he will be back.”

  “He won’t let me go,” she whispered.

  “He will. He just has to believe that his life is better without you.”

  “And how is that possible?" she cried. "He should be in jail.”

  “Did you go to the police over all the beatings?”

  She shook her head violently, the action sending her neat twist of hair at the back of her neck to fall down around her shoulders.

  “No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t get to a doctor either,” she admitted. “Last night is the first time in a long time he let me out of his sight.”

  “So you ran?”

  She nodded. “I tried to escape before…” Her voice broke and she had to swallow several times to regain control. “He always caught me.”

  Cash reached out and grasped her arms. “Not anymore. If you won’t go to the cops, then we have to do something ourselves.”

  “You don’t understand. If he believes I’m here, he’ll be back, and he’ll be back soon. With friends.”

  A distant look in his eyes, Cash nodded. “I’m going to need some help.”

  “Oh Lord.” This was going to get bad. Most of Greg’s friends were of the same ilk. They’d laugh over her taking a beating. They’d also laugh over Greg’s losing her. That would make him madder and even more dangerous. But they were always ready for a fight. Greg would have no trouble getting knockheaded muscle friends to come back with him.

  She had to be gone before it happened. “I have to leave.” She spun around, looking for her stuff, and then stared down at her bare hands. She had no stuff. She wore the only clothing she had left to her name.

  Except her shoes. She had shoes somewhere. She ran to the front door looking for them and saw them on the living room floor. Where all the men could have seen them. Clear and easily identified as hers.

  Shit.

  “They saw these earlier. They are the only pair I’ve owned for years. I always wear them.”

  “So they know you are here.” Yet his voice was calm. Controlled.

  “No,” she corrected gently. “They know I was here.”

  He stared at her for a long moment then stepped back. “So you’re leaving? Running away?”

  “Not running away, but I can’t be here when they come back,” she cried. “They’ll kill you.”

  "What?" He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “You’re trying to protect me?”

  “Of course I am. You don’t know him.”

  “No, I don’t know him well, but I know his kind. I know what he is. A coward.”

  “Maybe, but he’s the dangerous kind of coward. If he knows that you helped me he’ll be furious, if he thinks you touched me he’ll be livid, but if he thinks I’d rather stay with you than him, then it will send him over the edge.”

  Cash smiled a boyish smile. “And do you?”

  “Do I what?” She wished she understood him.

  “Do you want to stay?”

  “Oh God, I so want to stay.”

  The smile fell off his face to be replaced with calm contentment. “Then stay you will.”

  ***

  He was really proud of her. Once she’d come out of sh
ock – and maybe she was still in it for a different reason – she was really opening up and changing, growing.

  Given another week or two, he could just imagine how unfettered she’d be. He wanted to be there for her. Wanted her in his life – if she wanted to be there.

  He knew she wanted to stay because she was safe. Because this place was a haven compared to her old life. Here she had a future. There she’d be dead in a year. Greg wasn’t quite the same as his mother’s last boyfriend, who’d finally broken her body so badly. That man had escaped the law too, but he’d died in a car accident only days later. Cash had always regretted not being the one to cause it. The bastard had deserved a two by four across the head until there was no head left. But it had been a good lesson about looking after yourself and letting the rest happen in its own time. Not everyone got justice immediately – but they all got justice eventually.

  Seeing that justice happened wasn’t his job. Looking after the people left in its wake – now that was something he could do. No one could do everything. So one had to pick and choose where one’s talents lay. He was done with his schooling and practicum and actually had two job interviews at the same hospital where he currently worked. It looked good.

  He’d like to think he could help the victims live again. Helping those who couldn’t help themselves.

  Like Willow. She had so much ahead of her. So much to give but had seen only the worst men had to offer. He wanted her to heal. To move on and help others. He wanted her to be the best she could be. And he wanted her to want to be with him. If it didn’t happen, then he wanted her to move on and find out the perfect answer for her.

  And he was a fool.

  He’d let her get to him, and she had the capacity to hurt him in a big way.

  Therefore, he had to help her heal and let her make a choice.

  Greg was no choice.