Outcast (Southern Rebels MC Book 2)

by Kristin Coley

  “Her nickname sucks,” I griped, feeling around the soapy water to see if anything was left. When I realized it was empty, I drained the water and grabbed a towel. My shoulders lifted as I turned and propped myself against the counter, easing the weight off my leg. “I don’t know her,” I said simply, not willing to commit to more.

  He snorted, tossing his own towel on the counter. “Yeah, like I believe that shit. You’re the king of snap judgements,” he declared, meeting my eyes for a moment, then dropping them. “And the truth is…you’re usually right.”

  “She’s fierce,” I acknowledged. “Better than I figured you’d do.” His mouth twisted in amused annoyance. “You got lucky. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly, “Now I remember how much you suck at pep talks.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t need a pep talk. You got the girl,” I scoffed, still surprised my little brother had gotten himself tangled up with an old lady. “Now you just have to keep her,” I added jokingly, already recognizing they were both in it for the long haul.

  “Easier said than done,” Creed replied morosely and my forehead wrinkled as I glanced at him. “We haven’t,” he cleared his throat and gave me a meaningful look, “You know.”

  “Why the hell not?” I barked, wondering what the hell was wrong with my brother. “You can’t get it up?”

  “No, fuck, no! Why would you think that?” Creed glanced at the door leading to the bedrooms and back at me. “Keep it down.”

  “I’m trying to figure out why the hell you haven’t banged the fuck out of your old lady after a year of hand jobs,” I retorted, shaking my head in disgust. “No wonder she’s got you doing dishes. She probably thinks that’s all you’re good for.”

  He stared at me for frozen second before going off. “You don’t know what we’ve been through. I just got out of jail.”

  “Which means you shouldn’t have come up for air yet.”

  “Some of us have responsibilities,” he snapped. “People we have to answer to, take care of when they show up out of the blue.”

  “Oh, don’t blame me, little brother. I’m not the reason you haven’t gotten your dick wet,” I denied, pushing off the counter and crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s on you.”

  His jaw worked, but the challenge left his gaze and he slumped against the wall. “I didn’t want to scare her. Or move too fast after being gone for a year.” He gave me a pleading stare. “She’s important, Cord. She’s not like every other chick I’ve banged and forgotten. Jailbait….she means everything to me and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

  “So, you’re fucking it up,” I announced and he gave me a startled glance. “You’re fucking it up by trying not to fuck it up. Follow?”

  “No,” he said tersely and I sighed.

  “She is like all the other girls you’ve ever been with,” I explained and held up my hand when he started to protest. “The difference is – you want this girl to stick around.”

  “Yeah,” he said, confused.

  “But she’s still a girl. And girls want confident mother fuckers. Not this sensitive bull shit,” I rasped, getting edgy as pain gripped my thigh. “She’s still here after a year, Creed. I’m sure her vibrator could use a break.”

  His lips twitched as he said, “Don’t be crass, you motherfucker.”

  “Don’t be a nancy boy and I won’t have to be a crass motherfucker,” I retorted, grimacing. Creed glanced at my leg. “Don’t,” I warned him, fighting the urge to punch any hint of pity from his face. “I’m sure Sloan doesn’t want to hear you crying when I break that pretty nose of yours.”

  “As if,” he taunted back, his expression clearing. “Your ass was slow eight years ago. I doubt you’ve gotten better with age.”

  “Good enough to whip your ass,” I boasted, grinning. “But I feel sorry for your old lady and her neglected pussy so I’ll hold off.”

  “Fuck….you,” he grunted, going to the door.

  “She better be walking funny tomorrow or I’m gonna have to disown you,” I called out and he flipped me the bird. “I’ll wear some ear plugs so I don’t have to hear her screaming your name all night,” I added, laughing.

  He stopped unexpectedly and glanced at me over his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said and the laughter died in my throat. He tapped the wall twice and kept going, not expecting an answer and for once I was grateful, because we both knew I couldn’t say the same.

  Chapter Four

  Tori

  I’d barely closed my eyes when the toe of a boot nudged me. I curled my fingers around the crowbar I slept beside and prepared to come up swinging.

  “Cops are searching the area for a dark haired Amazon,” a quiet voice reported and my eyes drifted up to meet a hard gaze. “You might want to find another place to sleep,” he suggested and I nodded slowly.

  “Thanks,” I said, my tone grudging as I scooted back from the steel toed motorcycle boot uncomfortably close to my side. I dragged my backpack over one shoulder and skirted around him. Curiosity had me hesitating as I asked, “Why are you helping me?”

  His nose wrinkled as if he smelled something bad. “You’re sleeping on my daughter’s grave,” was his only reply and I exhaled in a rush, hurrying away from the grim eyed older man.

  I glanced over automatically to see if the teenager was lingering by the grave this morning, but he wasn’t there. I ducked between a row of hedges and stopped abruptly. A man stood silently by a tiny grave, his head bowed and I eased back, unwilling to interrupt him. He didn’t as much as glance at me, standing as still as if he’d been carved from stone.

  I stared at him a second too long, his pain a beacon to my own, and for a brief second, the urge to connect with someone stirred to life inside me as I wondered what his story was.

  I shoved the unwanted emotion aside, turning away from the man standing sentinel. My eyes burned from exhaustion, but the man’s warning hadn’t escaped me. I needed a place to lay low and hopefully get some sleep.

  ***

  “We’re closed,” a voice called out as the bell on the door jangled with my arrival. I knew when he’d spotted me because his voice soured. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Jean here?” I questioned, refusing to shrink under his judgmental stare.

  “No,” he answered flatly. “You can go.” He turned his back to me, clearly finished with the conversation and I stepped forward.

  “When will she be back?” I demanded, watching his back grow rigid at my persistence.

  “For you? Never would be my choice.”

  “Too bad it’s not your decision,” I replied silkily. “When will she be back?” I enunciated each word, keeping my tone firm.

  “Two days,” he answered grudgingly, still not looking at me.

  “Where did she go?” I demanded to know, caught off guard by his answer.

  “None of your fucking business,” he growled. “Now get out.”

  I debated just leaving but the reason I’d come hadn’t changed. “I need a place to stay.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Of course you do.” He spun around, hands clenched into fists. “Why else would you be here?”

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked tiredly, too exhausted physically and mentally to deal with his emotional games.

  “Nothing. I don’t want you to say nothing because God knows it’s always a fucking lie when you talk. What I want is for you to go.” He practically vibrated with anger and I sighed.

  “Jacob –”

  “No.”

  “You ever been to the Crazy Horse?” I could tell I’d caught him off guard with my question because he actually answered.

  “What? No, fuck, what kind of question is that?” He shot me a disgruntled look and I shrugged.

  “An honest one?” I replied, giving him a clueless look.

  “You know what that place is?”

  “A strip club. Which is why I asked if you’d ever been there.”
/>   “No. Why do you want to know?”

  “Oh, now you have questions for me,” I muttered under my breath but he heard.

  “Yeah, you show up and shit happens. Usually bad shit. So I get nervous when you ask questions like that and show up needing a place to stay. Jean don’t need your kind of damage in her life right now.”

  My lip curled, hating he was right, but I shrugged carelessly, not willing to let him see just how deeply the words cut. “Found a matchbook with the logo.”

  “And that led you to ask if I hang out at strip clubs,” he stated flatly. “Nice, Tori. I don’t believe you but nice try.”

  “I found it at a meth lab,” I admitted and his face tightened.

  “I swear to God, Tori, if you’re using….” He trailed off, his jaw working.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, Jacob, I’m not using,” I replied with a patience I came nowhere near feeling. “Now, where is Jean?”

  I hadn’t missed how he dodged telling me, or his pointed insult about her not needing me in her life right now.

  He held out a hand, pointing his finger at me. “No, I mean it, Tor, drop it. Walk away.”

  My nose crinkled as I reminded him, “I’m not the one who walks away.”

  The door opened behind me and I shifted so my back was against the wall as a guy walked in. “Hey, man,” the guy greeted Jacob. “Sorry to drop in so early, but you have a minute?”

  “For you? Of course. How’s the club?” Jacob answered and my gaze flickered to the guy’s jacket, seeing the emblem on the back. The sight of the American and Confederate flags crossed over a skull clicked, and I recognized the Southern Rebel logo.

  “Good, bringing in a new member,” he answered, stepping aside and I had the impression he knew I was there, but choose to ignore me. “That’s why I’m here actually. My little brother is joining the club.”

  Jacob nodded with understanding, “He’s gonna need to be inked.”

  “You know it and there’s only one place we go for ink,” the guy replied easily. “Jean around?”

  Jacob shook his head apologetically, “Fraid not, she’s gonna be out for a few weeks.”

  I tuned in at this new information as the guy gave a disappointed sigh. “Man, that sucks. Everything alright?”

  Jacob’s gaze flickered to me before he answered him. “She’s taking a little time for some health issues. That’s all. I’d be happy to ink your brother though.”

  The guy shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “No offense, but I’d like it to be Jean. It’s sort of a family tradition.”

  “Understood. I’ll let her know,” Jacob promised. “I’m sure she’ll be eager to get back. She’s always been a supporter of the club.”

  The guy nodded, sliding his hands in his pockets as he turned and my attention snapped to him, something about his stance niggling at my memory. His gaze skimmed over me impersonally, and he lifted his chin a fraction, acknowledging me as he stepped to the door.

  “Creed,” Jacob called and the guy turned back to him. “Doesn’t the club own the Crazy Horse?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, hesitating to see if Jacob was going to add anything more. “Got a few girls working there, and some of the guys.” He smiled. “Keeps them out of trouble.”

  “I hear ya,” Jacob said with a chuckle. “Planning a bachelor party for one of my guys. Wanted to make sure we picked the right venue.”

  Creed relaxed and my eyes narrowed. “Let me know when and we’ll get you taken care of,” he replied with a wink, “Get your crew a private room with some of our girls.”

  “That’d be awesome. Thanks, man.”

  “Anytime,” he replied and his gaze came to me once again, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Ma’am,” he murmured, but I ignored the question in his voice and he pushed the door open, the bell clanking as light streamed in and then he was gone.

  “Jean’s sick?” I whirled on Jacob, livid, and he backed up a step. “You weren’t fucking going to tell me, Jacob Scott?”

  “Put the crowbar down, Tori, and we’ll talk,” he reasoned, holding up his hands.

  “No,” I snapped, lifting the damn thing higher. “No, you’re going to talk and then I’ll decide if I’m going to put it down or beat you with it first.”

  “You’re fucking insane. You know that?” He scooped his hair back with his hands, staring at me wide eyed. “I can’t believe you.”

  “Really?” I deadpanned. “You dated me for four years and asked me to marry you, but you’re just now figuring out I’m insane?”

  “There’s a difference between crazy and insane, Tori,” he argued, his gaze gauging how serious I was and I tipped the crowbar toward him. “Fine,” he shouted. “Jesus. She was diagnosed with breast cancer last month. She’s at the clinic so they can run tests and decide the treatment plan.”

  “And you’re not with her?” I questioned, glaring at him and he shot me an exasperated glance.

  “You think she’d let me?”

  I didn’t have a reply to that, but I did lower the crowbar and he nodded toward it. “You beat those dealers, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t answer, my stare telling him to stop asking questions if he knew what was good for him.

  “I heard the cops were looking for a tall dark haired woman.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Should have known it was you.”

  “Didn’t think those assholes would have the balls to admit a woman had put them in the hospital,” I bitched, pissed off.

  “They’re claiming she was hyped on some new drug,” he replied, eyeing me as he seemed to expect the low snarl I made at that bit of news. “Yeah, didn’t think you’d appreciate that.”

  “Lying little bastards,” I exclaimed, pacing the room, crowbar swinging by my side. “Like anyone would need a drug to beat their asses.” I stopped in front of him and he flinched. “Thanks,” I said and he blinked. “For the Crazy Horse info. I didn’t know it was a club business.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said automatically, then reminded me, “The Rebels don’t mess with drugs. They ran most of that shit out years ago.”

  “Well, somebody let it back in,” I replied, running my hands over the cold metal bar. “The question is…are they the ones that did?”

  “Tori –”

  “Don’t, Jacob. I’m not that girl. Not anymore,” I repeated, suppressing a sigh. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, which is why you came looking for a place to hide out,” he countered, stepping back. “Cot’s in the back room. You can have it for a couple of days,” he added, stressing the last part. “No guys, no drugs,”

  “I know, I don’t need a reminder,” I interrupted, my tone sharp.

  “Still gonna say it,” he bit back, emphasizing, “No guys, no drugs.” I nodded, not looking at him. “Clean up after yourself. And you know the deal?”

  “Clean the equipment at the end of the day,” I answered, giving him a sidelong glance. “I haven’t forgotten, Jacob.”

  “Jean doesn’t need any stress right now,” he told me unnecessarily, and for a terrifying second my eyes burned at the rebuke in his words. I managed to control the threatening tears as I nodded, unable to speak, and he sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Don’t do anything stupid, Tori. There are still people that care about you.”

  I shouldered past him, going down the hall to the tiny storage closet Jean had cleared out months ago, so she could set up a cot and mini fridge for me. I stopped in the doorway, seeing she’d added a microwave since the last time I’d stayed.

  “She keeps hoping you’ll stay,” Jacob said behind me and I drove my elbow back, nailing him. He grunted, giving me a small sense of satisfaction. “I gotta open the shop,” he muttered, and I stood there until his footsteps faded.

  I shrugged the backpack off my shoulders gratefully, normally immune to its weight but it had been a long walk from the cemetery to the shop after an even longer night. The bolt made a reassuring click whe
n I turned it and some of the tension drained from me. I sank down on the bed, too tired to check the fridge even though I knew there would be water and some type of snack stored inside.

  Jean was nothing if not persistent, I thought, laying back on the bed. My eyes burned from a combination of exhaustion and the new fear of losing her. It didn’t seem to matter how hard I pushed them away, the emotions didn’t disappear. She refused to give up on me, and that tiny connection kept drawing me back.

  The need for sleep tugged at me and I grasped at it gratefully, needing the escape and knowing no one could come through the door with it locked from the inside.

  Chapter Five

  Cord

  I cussed again, louder and more violently than before, as I tried to clear enough space in the garage to back the old Blazer out. Crap was stacked everywhere, and moving anything had become a fucked up game of Jenga.

  “Son of a bitch,” I growled as I tried to catch a box of cassette tapes someone had decided to store for some ungodly reason.

  “Need a hand?”

  I spun around at the voice, grabbing my leg when it locked up at the sudden movement. I didn’t need to see him to know who had shown up at my door less than 24 hours after I’d been home. “Clutch.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself in your rush to come give me a hug,” he drawled, strolling closer as I stood awkwardly, my leg braced so I wouldn’t fall on my ass. “Might think you missed me or something.”

  “Or something,” I muttered, locking down the emotions surging to the surface at seeing him again. “Didn’t take you long.”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry. Creed didn’t sell you out.” Clutch grinned, but there was no humor in the gesture. “Jailbait told me when she swung by the garage.”

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I wouldn’t have blamed Creed for telling him I’d come home, but I would have beat his ass for it. “You saw me. Now, you can go.” I dismissed him, turning back to the shit in my way.

  I heard him laugh softly but it was more disbelieving than amused. “God, you deserve a quick kick in the ass for showing up like this.”