Brute: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Dark Vultures MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 4)

by Naomi West

  Chapter Two

  Rascal

  The night was a beautiful one as Rascal Jones sped away from the clubhouse. The stars were brilliant in the sapphire sky of New Mexico, and a cool breeze rifled through his dark hair. Things had been going well with the Dark Vultures, and he knew that it was in large part due to him. His mother had always said he had a good mind for making money, and now the Vultures were becoming aware of it as well. They were listening to him at the meetings, and now they were taking his advice and implementing it. Rascal had been sent out on plenty of the missions as well, so he knew they were truly serious about him.

  The Dark Vultures had been one of the best things that ever happened to Rascal. He’d joined at a young age, which had worried his mother to no end. “You can’t do that, sweetheart,” she’d said with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to see you go the same way as your father.”

  He had shrugged her off. Not because he didn’t care about what she thought, but because he knew he had few other options. His father was gone, and his mother worked her ass off at the local diner, but it was never quite enough to make ends meet. “It’s what I’ve got to do, Mom.”

  She’d turned a blind eye to it after that, pretending that everything was normal. She never asked where he got the money to pay the electric bill or why he had been out all night. She took his help with gratitude and sadness in her eyes, and they had an unspoken agreement between them not to speak of it again.

  Now he was headed out to the edges of town for a lucrative drug deal. It wasn’t exactly a nice place to go, but there was plenty of money to be made. The canal was a good place for drug deals, because even the cops didn’t want to come down here. He pulled off the highway and headed down into the canal, slowing down to make sure he found the right people.

  The vagrants watched him like rats from the shadows as he slowly wove through the various encampments. Rascal couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the people here. He knew that plenty of them had made terrible decisions and had landed themselves here of their own accord, but there were others who couldn’t have helped their circumstances. Maybe they weren’t able to fight off addiction, or they were mentally handicapped and had fallen through the cracks of the system, or they had just gotten such a bad start in life that they didn’t know how to make up for it. It was these people who made Rascal grateful for the Dark Vultures, because he and his mother would probably be living here in the canal if it hadn’t been for them.

  The gang had taken him in without question. They had given him options he wouldn’t have had otherwise. Rascal couldn’t sit around waiting for a degree and a good job he would never get, because he needed to put food on the table right away. Thanks to the Vultures, he had done that. His father had been a biker, and that was why his mother had been so against the idea in the first place, but Rascal knew he was a different sort of man.

  He pulled to a stop when he recognized Flea, a shifty-eyed man with a shaved head. “Right on time, as always,” Flea commented. “I assume you have the goods.”

  “Of course. I’m not going to come all the way out here just to say hello.” He stepped off his bike and went around to the opposite side to get in his saddle bag, making sure not to turn his back on Flea. Rascal had done numerous drug deals with the man, and nothing bad had happened yet, but it wasn’t reason enough to trust him.

  Flea glanced up and down the canal. “Let’s make it quick. There are too many folks around here who would be happy to take the drugs off me as soon as I get them.”

  “Right.” Rascal couldn’t argue with that. Plenty of the bums were junkies, and they didn’t mind taking risks. What did they have to lose? “I’ve got plenty to do tonight, anyway.” This wasn’t the only deal he had going on for the night. He pulled a package out of his bag and held it close to his body.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Flea cautioned. “I would think you know by now that I always have the money.” The man produced a small briefcase and handed it over.

  “Pleasure doing business with you.” The money and goods exchanged, Rascal moved on. It was dangerous moving through this area with his saddle bags loaded down like this, but he wasn’t nervous. He had been in plenty of risky situations in his life, and he knew he could handle anyone here.

  As he headed toward the viaduct, a woman caught his eye. She wasn’t the same sort of person he usually saw here. She wasn’t dressed in rags, although the rip in her dress made it look well on its way. She staggered as she slunk around the camps, a movement not unlike the junkies, but the fear and confusion in her eyes told him it was a different situation. He craned his head to watch her as he passed, but he had business to take care of.

  Rascal found his other contact and made a quick transfer. He was anxious to get back to the clubhouse, report, and maybe knock a few beers back before heading to bed. Then he could get up and do it all again the next day. It might not be the type of job that would make his mother proud, but he felt useful. His mother didn’t really need him anymore, but the Vultures did. That was enough.

  Just as he was about to hit the throttle and get the hell out of this shithole, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye that made him stop. It was the girl in the cocktail dress again, but this time she wasn’t alone. A tall man had her by the hair, yanking her back so that her chin pointed up at the sky. She was pulling at his fingers, but to no avail. Another man stood nearby, laughing and grabbing at her.

  Rascal knew he shouldn’t get involved. It was none of his business what happened in the canal. He’d learned a long time ago that there was only so much he could do for others, and it always came at a price. He had his own life to worry about.

  But as he drove past, something tugged at him. He stopped and sat on his bike for a moment, trying to decide where the line was between minding his own business and sticking his nose in someone else’s. With a sigh of regret, he got off his bike and strode over, his boots pounding against the concrete. “What’s going on, gentlemen?”

  The tall man glared at him, tugging a little harder on the woman’s dark hair and making her squeak with pain. “Get back! She’s mine!”

  “You mean she’s ours!” corrected the heavyset man. “I want her when you’re done with her.” He grabbed the girl’s wrist and pulled her toward him.

  She was going to be ripped in half like a ragdoll at this rate. “Come on, fellas. How about you just leave the lady alone?”

  “She ain’t no lady!” Tall Guy pulled again so that the woman’s back was pressed against the front of his body. He put a thick hand over her flat stomach. “She’s a whore, and she’s gonna do whatever I say.”

  Rascal had seen plenty of prostitutes in his 28 years, and he knew that they did their jobs willingly. They spent their time coaxing and wheedling men, not desperately trying to get away from them. He took a step closer. “Doesn’t look like it to me. Let her go.”

  “Who’s gonna make us?”

  The girl’s eyes rolled toward Rascal, pleading. But she didn’t need to beg him to save her. He had already made this commitment, whether he liked it or not. “I guess I will.” He went for the tall one first, since he had the best grip on the woman. His fist landed square in the man’s throat, a punch that would make anyone think twice about disobeying him.

  The man’s hands immediately pulled away from the girl and went to his throat as he stumbled backwards, his eyes bulging and his mouth working like a fish out of water as he fought for air.

  Rascal turned to the heavyset one, expecting more of a fight out of him. He dodged a poorly-aimed punch and flung out one of his own, clocking him right in the eye. It made the dirtbag stumble a little, but it wasn’t enough to get him to go away. That was all right, because Rascal had plenty of moves up his sleeve. He swung a leg around the man’s knees and pushed, sending the asshole to the ground. A few well-placed kicks, and he wasn’t going to get back up anytime soon.

  The tall one had recovered, but he was no longer interested in Ra
scal or the woman. He scrambled away backwards on his hands and feet, like a crab, retreating to the concrete shadows he called home.

  The girl stood nearby, her hands on her mouth and her eyes wide. “Well, go on,” Rascal ordered. “I saved your ass, now get it out of here before these douches change their minds.” It irritated him that she had just stood there, watching and waiting. She could have been running away or even helping him, not that he needed it.

  But her eyes flicked between him and the motorcycle. “Take me with you,” she whispered. “I don’t belong here, and I don’t know where to go. Please, just get me out of here.”

  Rascal shook his head and held out his hand, palm out. “Oh no. That’s where I draw the line. It’s one thing to help you get away from a couple of goons like them, but I’m not a charity worker. You’re on your own.” He’d done enough, and maybe even too much. And he didn’t let just anyone get on his bike.

  She was at his arm as he strode toward his bike. “It doesn’t have to be far. Just get me out of here. Please.” Her eyes were limpid pools of starlight as she looked up at him, her face pale and innocent. She was like a statue of a fairy or an angel, all innocent and needy.

  And that was not the kind of thing he needed in his life. Rascal had spent his whole life taking care of others, and it was his turn to finally take care of himself. If this girl had gotten herself into trouble, then it was her own fault. “No. I’ve got to go.”

  He fully expected her to chase after him as he sped off. It wouldn’t be the first time someone harassed him down here. But she stayed where she was as he mounted his bike and fired up the engine. Rascal turned around just as a few raindrops started to fall on his scalp. She stood there under the bridge, her arms wrapped around herself as she looked out across the encampment and away from him, hoping for someone to come and save her.

  Aw, shit. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor. He didn’t need any drama in his life. There was no telling what this woman’s story really was. For all Rascal knew, she was just pretending to be helpless so she could get close to him and steal the money out of his saddle bags. She would have another thing coming if that was her plan, because he wasn’t about to let anybody come between himself and club business.

  But he knew exactly what was going to happen to her if she stayed. She would find herself in the same situation he had just saved her from. It might be the same men or it might be different ones, but there was no chance of someone like her getting out safely without assistance. It was a miracle she hadn’t been hurt or killed already, and if he left her, he would constantly wonder if he had done the right thing.

  Rascal fired up the engine and turned a tight circle so that he pulled up next to her. “Come on.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted. She looked ready to ask him if he was sure, but then she thought better of it. The girl swung a leg over the bike and nestled in behind him. Her body was stiff and uncertain, and she set her hands delicately on his bike.

  “That’s not going to work unless you want to be splattered on the concrete.” Rascal reached behind him, grabbed her hands, and wrapped them firmly around his waist. “Now hang on.” He roared past the drunks and druggies, past the homeless and the unfortunate, and shot out of the canal.

  It was impossible to ignore the way she felt pressed against his back. She was trying to keep her distance, but there was precious little room for her to do so. Rascal slammed the throttle, making her hold on a little tighter, and he grinned to himself. Maybe he wasn’t any better than those assholes he had dispatched in order to save her, but he couldn’t help it. Her breasts were pressed against his back, and he liked them there.

  Soon enough, he pulled over at The Jackrabbit, a bar he frequented often. They got off the bike, and he turned to study her in the brilliant light of the neon sign. Rascal’s heart dropped as he took in what he had been unable to see in the dim light of the canyon. This wasn’t just a woman who had gotten lost and torn her dress. She had bruises on her arms and cheek, and her makeup hung in dark circles underneath her eyes. The rain shower had been a quick one, but it had drenched her and left her shivering in earnest.

  “Do you need me to take you to a hospital? There’s one right around the corner, and—”

  “No.” It was the most force he had heard out of her, not that they had exactly had much time to talk.

  But there was clearly something wrong here. She was dressed like a classy woman, but given where she had been found and who she had been with, there was some sort of trouble afoot. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know what happened to you, but they can check you out and make sure you’re all right.” Rascal couldn’t help checking her out himself. Even in her current state, she was hot. Her hair hung dark and silky just past her jawline, a contrast to the brilliant blue of her eyes. The tight little dress hugged her figure flatteringly, begging him to study the curves of her breasts and waist. Those shapely legs and the way she wore even scuffed heels made him wonder why he had ever hesitated to put her on the back of his bike.

  “No,” she repeated. “I don’t do hospitals. I can’t go there.”

  He nodded, even though he wanted to argue with her. She looked like she could really use a once-over from a medical professional, but he didn’t like hospitals, either. Her bumps and bruises would heal, and there was probably nothing that a meal and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. “All right. Then where do you need to go? You said you needed to get away, but you didn’t exactly tell me where.” He had just driven, and she hadn’t argued. He hoped she wasn’t just trying to get back to some asshole boyfriend who thought he would pull a funny prank and leave his girlfriend in the wrong part of town all night.

  The girl looked around them at the street and business signs, and Rascal could swear he saw tears forming in her eyes. “I … I don’t know.”

  He was starting to get impatient. It would have been easy enough to drop her off at the hospital or an apartment building, or even the police station, but of course he would have picked a more difficult situation than that. “You don’t know where you live?”

  Her hands lifted helplessly in the air. “I don’t want to go there. I’m not sure where I should go. I’m so confused.”

  “Are you pulling my chain?” He could easily just leave her there on the sidewalk and she would be better off than when he had found her, but for some reason Rascal couldn’t do it.

  If it was possible, her eyes got even wider at the idea. “Of course not! I just don’t know where I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do.”

  Rascal bit his lip. “Can you at least tell me your name?”

  “Vera,” she said with confidence. “My name is Vera.”

  “All right, Vera. Then let’s go in here and get you a drink. I know most people drink to make their memories go away, but maybe if we’re lucky it will have the opposite effect on you.” Rascal opened the door and escorted her to a table. As he pulled out a chair for her, he realized that this wasn’t going to work either. He had pulled her off the streets, and that was exactly how she looked. The dress was nothing but a thin rag at this point, and she would have been more covered if she had wrapped a bath towel around her.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll open a tab, and you get whatever you want. I’m going to run and get something, and I’ll be right back.” He turned to the door.

  “Wait!”

  “What?” He was already irritated with himself for taking this girl under his wing like this, and now she was proving to be needier than he could have imagined.

  “Can you at least tell me your name?” She gave him that look again, the pleading one she had used when she’d asked for a ride. Vera was either just that good at manipulating men or she was too sexy to resist.

  “Rascal.” He turned and headed for the bar before she could ask him any more questions. “Vinny, I need you to do me a favor.”

  The bartender turned around at the mention of his name. With thinning dark hair and a little bit
of a paunch, he was the sort of guy who made everyone feel comfortable when they drank. He even knew the usual drinks of most of his regular patrons, and he wasn’t stingy with the good alcohol. “What’s up, Rascal?”

  “You see that girl over there?” Rascal pointed her out with every intention of turning right back around and continuing his conversation with Vinny, but it was hard to take his eyes off her. She fiddled with the paper napkin on the table as she watched the faces of the other customers around her, but she didn’t engage with anyone or act as though she knew them. It was a decent-sized city, so it was no shock that she wouldn’t have seen a friend right away, but she looked so lost. It was hard to look away.

  Vinny nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Get her anything she wants, no limits. I’ll be back and take care of it in just a few minutes.”

  The bartender gave him a sideways look. “That’s one way to get in her pants, I guess.”