Sydney Storm MC Complete Series

by Levine, Nina

  “Since when do you care about my problems?”

  Her eyes searched mine as silence hung between us. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t exactly say I care about your problems. I just didn’t want any part of Billy losing his shit with you.”

  I turned that over in my mind. Something still didn’t gel for me. “I’d imagine you see Billy lose his shit often.”

  “I do.”

  I leaned forward. “So why did you care about that happening between us?”

  “Why do you care why I care?”

  “My job is to keep you safe. I don’t need any surprises catching me off guard, so I want to know the shit running through your mind.”

  “Bullshit. What’s running through my mind has nothing do with your ability to keep me safe.”

  I slid my chair closer to her, taking note of the way her whole body tensed. “Maybe I just wanna know why you chose to stay here with me.”

  Her breathing slowed a fraction and she remained silent for a beat. She lowered her voice when she finally answered my question. “You’ve saved my life twice now. Both times you didn’t have to. I don’t know why I chose to stay with you, but if someone helps me when they get nothing out of it, it means something to me.”

  Not the answer I expected.

  Not by a long shot.

  I stood and reached for her phone. After I sent myself a text so I had her number, I said, “I’ll text you when I’m ready. You can come with me to find them. It’ll give you a break from the noise here. Turning to leave, I paused and added, “I did get something out of it, Vegas. I kept Billy on side.”

  Her voice filtered through the crowd as I walked away. “Not the first time.”

  Tatum

  “Voodoo Child” by Rogue Traders

  The silence in Nitro’s ute was bliss. After a morning of being cooped up in the clubhouse with rowdy bikers and their family members, I craved the peace and quiet. Nitro had taken forty minutes or so to text after he left me in the bar, and I hadn’t hesitated to meet him out the front when the message came through.

  “You waiting on a call?” he asked after about fifteen minutes of us keeping to ourselves.

  I looked up from my phone that I held in my hands. “Yeah, from my cousin. One of my girls is staying with her at the moment and I just want to make sure she’s doing okay. Her boyfriend is an ass and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s gotten in her head and convinced her to go home.”

  “Does she usually take this long to return your calls?”

  “No.” And that had me worried.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything further. We drove the rest of the way to his house in silence, but instead of my mind being focused on Monroe for that time, my thoughts were completely fixated on Nitro. I wondered what had happened to him in life that made him so closed off? I’d met a lot of men who didn’t do much talking, but none quite as detached as Nitro. As much as I didn’t want it to be the case, the man fascinated me. Because while he appeared to be a moody asshole, I’d become convinced there was a lot more to him under all that. It was probably buried deeper than most people would be willing to search, but I wasn’t most people.

  He pulled his ute into the driveway of his house and jumped out. I followed him inside as fast as I could in an effort to escape the rain. Nitro’s home was as cold as he was and I shivered as I entered it. Following him down the hallway, it struck me again how bare his home was. Each room had the absolute necessities in it; actually, some rooms didn’t even have that. Two out of the three bedrooms were completely empty of furniture, the lounge room had only a couch and television, and besides those rooms, there was only a kitchen, dining room, bathroom and laundry.

  “How long have you lived here?” The words were out before I could stop them.

  Nitro didn’t slow down to answer me; he simply called over his shoulder, “Fifteen years.”

  “Fifteen years?”

  He finished searching the bedrooms and turned to face me. Frowning, he replied, “Yes, fifteen years.”

  “Why don’t you have any furniture if you’ve lived here that long?”

  Staring at me like I’d asked the world’s most redundant question, he said, “I gave it to my sister when she and Renee moved out.”

  “They’ve just moved out?”

  “No, they got their own place a few years ago.” He continued his search of the house while I followed blindly behind him, unable to let go of my need to understand him.

  “And you still haven’t replaced the furniture?”

  He stopped abruptly and gave me his attention again. “Why the twenty questions, Vegas?”

  I held his gaze. “I’m trying to figure out why you don’t have any furniture.”

  “No, you’re trying to figure out me. You’re a lawyer, it’s what you do. But I’m telling you now, there’s nothing to figure out. I’m a man who has no interest in furniture or decorating or any of that bullshit, so quit with all the questions.”

  I stepped closer, leaving very little space between us. “I don’t believe that, Nitro.”

  “Believe what?”

  “That there’s nothing to figure out. I think there’s a lot you keep hidden.”

  His nostrils flared and when he spoke again, his voice held a dangerous tone. “Last night you wanted nothing to do with me. I’m not sure what the fuck happened between then and now, but let’s go back to the way we were.”

  My lips spread out in a grim smile. “That’s the thing about life… We can’t often go back to the way things were.”

  “Yeah, well, we can, and we will.” His words fell out in a harsh directive before he pushed past me and stalked to the front door. When he reached it, he called out, “Wait here while I go check for Dustin at Marilyn’s house. Lock the door after I leave.” With that, he left, the front door banging after him.

  I strode to the door and locked it.

  God, he could be a prick. A moody, stubborn prick who I would avoid if I knew what was good for me.

  It seemed I never quite learnt my lessons very well in life.

  * * *

  He’d been gone for about ten minutes when two men snuck into his front yard, balaclavas in place, and guns in their hands. I’d been keeping watch from the front window of his lounge room when they appeared.

  They were almost to his front door when one of their phones rang. The guy with the phone paused to answer it while the other one waited behind him. A short conversation ensued before the guy with the phone slipped it back into his pocket and said something to his mate. They then continued their trek towards the front door.

  My fingers curled around the gun I’d found stashed in Nitro’s cupboard when I searched it just after he left me alone. I hadn’t been able to resist snooping, but had been disappointed when all I’d found was the gun. As well as owning very little furniture, he didn’t keep many personal belongings.

  I watched as Nitro entered the yard, picked up his pace and advanced on the two guys fast. A few moments later, he punched the guy at the back in the head, causing him to stumble forward. With the element of surprise, he managed to wrap his arm around his neck and knock the gun out of his hand.

  The guy struggled, trying to shift Nitro’s arms. As he fought, his friend turned around to help him, but Nitro pointed his gun in his direction. “Stay where you are or you’ll stop breathing,” he barked.

  The guy ignored Nitro’s threat and immediately lunged at him. Nitro fired, but the guy had ducked low enough when he’d lunged to avoid the bullet. When he landed, it was with enough force to knock all three of them to the ground. A fight then broke out, and I feared that Nitro was at a disadvantage being on his own against two.

  Exiting the house, I made my way to where they fought. Nitro’s eyes briefly met mine as he knocked one guy flat on his back before turning to deal with the other guy who was right behind him. I didn’t miss the scowl in his glance, but chose to ignore it. Pointing the gun I held at the guy N
itro had just knocked down, I said, “Don’t move, asshole.”

  He stared up at me, his eyes holding a clear challenge. “Or what, blondie?” As he said the words, he moved to stand.

  Without hesitating, I shifted the gun so it aimed at his leg, and I pulled the trigger. “Or I’ll fucking shoot.”

  “Motherfucking bitch!” he roared, his agony spilling out all over the place.

  The gunshot slowed him, but it didn’t stop him completely. Figuring from the way he moved that I must have only grazed him with the bullet, I took aim again. That time, the bullet did what I wanted it to—it slowed him right down, planting him on the ground, clutching at his bullet wound. A string of expletives and threats spewed from his mouth, but my attention had already shifted to Nitro.

  “You got a spare bullet there, Vegas?” He had the other guy on his knees facing me. Nitro had his arm around his neck in a vice grip, and the guy struggled for breath while trying to claw his way out of the choking hold.

  I nodded. “Where do you want it?”

  “In his leg.”

  As I took aim and shot, a black van screeched into Nitro’s driveway and two Storm bikers jumped out. Everything happened in a blur after that. Nitro and the two bikers quickly moved the two men into the back of the van and then the vehicle and all the men were gone, leaving me staring at Nitro in surprise.

  “Where did they come from?” I asked as he guided me inside his house.

  “I saw their bikes on my way back here from Marilyn’s and called King for backup.”

  I jumped as he slammed the door closed behind us. Staring at him, I processed the anger written across his face. Anger that seemed to be directed at me rather than at what just happened. “What?” I demanded, tensing for an argument.

  “I gave you one directive when I left the house—stay inside.” His eyes flashed with as much fury as his body seemed filled with.

  “You needed help so—”

  “No, I didn’t. What I needed was to know you were inside away from those assholes.”

  “I seem to recall that you asked me to put a bullet in one of those guys after I already did the same thing to the other guy. How is that not needing my help?” God, he was so damn infuriating.

  “While I appreciated that, I would have preferred for your safety to not have been compromised.”

  “My safety wasn’t compromised so I don’t know why you’re carrying on about it.”

  He blew out a long breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m carrying on about it because I don’t want this kind of shit to happen again.”

  We faced off, both glaring at each other in silence for a few moments. I was annoyed as fuck at his inability to admit my help was appreciated, but the lawyer in me took the time to think through what he’d said and why.

  Finally, the tension in my shoulders eased and I said, “You were worried about me.”

  He blinked and his breathing slowed. It took him a beat to reply, and when he did, it came out a little snappish. “Of course I was. The last thing I need is Billy coming down on me because you got hurt.”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said quietly, “you were worried about me and it had nothing to do with Billy.”

  His face clouded over and he clenched his jaw. “Tatum, we don’t have time to stand around arguing over this. You need to get our ass outside and in my ute so we can find Dustin and Renee and then get back to the clubhouse.” He barked his orders like he was used to them being carried out.

  Stepping closer to him, I said, “I’m not sure why you can’t just admit you were worried about me, Nitro. It’s okay to care about someone’s safety.” With that, I pushed past him so I could head out to his damn ute. Bloody men and their inability to admit when they cared about someone.

  Nitro

  “Kick Start My Heart” by Alannah Myles

  I’d had enough of Tatum Lee and her argumentative ways. The woman seemed intent on pushing as many of my buttons as possible. Every time I thought we were getting somewhere and that she would just do as I said, she managed to get under my skin, again.

  And yet, she fucking impressed the hell out of me. When she’d put a bullet in the Silver Hell member without flinching, and then done it again, I’d watched in awe. I wanted to wring her neck for not staying inside while at the same time, I wanted to rip her fucking clothes off and see just what she was made of.

  I wanted to know if she fucked the way she seemed to live—full of passion and fierce energy. And that shit right there sent alarm bells ringing all over the damn place because wanting to know that about a woman wasn’t something that ever interested me.

  I turned to her, my hands squeezing tightly around the steering wheel as I thought about her naked body wrapped around mine. “What’s your cousin’s address?”

  She’d been silently watching the streets pass by as I drove. At my question, she faced me, a frown set across those gorgeous lips of hers. “Why?”

  “So you can check on her.”

  “What about Dustin?” Renee had texted just after we’d left my place to say she was at the clubhouse, so Dustin was the only one we still needed to find.

  “I’m pretty sure I know where he is. The fact Silver Hell sent two members to my house just now tells me they didn’t send anyone earlier, so I’d say he’s safe and we have time to look in on your cousin.”

  “I thought you were in a hurry to get back to the clubhouse.”

  I gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “Fuck, Tatum, do you ever stop questioning shit?” I glanced at her as I asked this and caught the flattening of her lips as she stared at me.

  A moment passed, and then she rattled off an address before adding, “Thank you.”

  I gave a quick nod and steered the car in the direction of her cousin’s place.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up outside a tattoo parlour. I cut the engine and turned to her again. “She works here?”

  Reaching for the door handle, she shook her head. “No, she owns it.”

  As I followed her inside, I wondered who I was about to meet. If her cousin was anything like Tatum, I’d have my hands full.

  * * *

  “Monroe, meet Nitro, the pain-in-my-ass biker who likes to boss me around,” Tatum said, gesturing towards me before adding, “Nitro, meet Monroe Lee, my cousin.”

  Monroe eyed me warily before asking Tatum, “This is the biker who saved you?”

  Tatum nodded.

  The wary glint in Monroe’s eyes didn’t leave, and resentment crept into her voice as she said to me, “Why can’t you leave her alone? She’s done nothing to you or your club.”

  Before I could reply, Tatum held her hand up. “It’s okay, Roe, he’s actually trying to keep me alive. Silver Hell found out I was there the other night.” Her eyes met mine. “But he does like to issue orders left, right and centre, which is annoying as hell.”

  Her cousin didn’t back down and I saw Tatum’s feistiness in her. They looked nothing alike—Monroe had voluptuous curves and huge tits whereas Tatum’s curves were much smaller, and Monroe had flaming red hair in contrast to Tatum’s blonde—but their inner fight seemed the same.

  Monroe squared her shoulders and challenged me. “So you’ll keep her alive and then let her out of your sights?”

  “I don’t make promises to anyone.”

  “Figures,” she muttered, her glare not letting up. I had to respect a woman who stood her ground.

  “Why haven’t you been returning my calls and texts this morning?” Tatum asked, diverting her cousin’s attention. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  Something passed between the two women and Monroe’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I forgot to charge my mobile and I paid the shop’s phone bill late, so they suspended my service.”

  Tatum let out a long breath and her body visibly relaxed a little. “Thank God.”

  Monroe touched her on the arm. “Posey’s okay. She’s out the back with Fox, giving him a haircut.”<
br />
  Tatum frowned. “Huh?”

  “Yeah, who knew your girl was a hairdresser as well as a stripper? We’ve been quiet this morning and got to chatting, and when he found this out, he asked her to cut his hair.” Her gaze zeroed in on Tatum’s face. “How are you? That eye still looks nasty.”

  “I’m sore, but I’m okay.”

  “That eye’s gonna take a little while to heal and so are her ribs,” I said.

  Monroe’s attention swung swiftly back to me. “If it wasn’t for bloody bikers, she wouldn’t be in this mess,” she snapped.

  I stepped forward and got in her face. “Careful,” I warned. “Far as I can see, Tatum got herself into that mess.”

  Monroe’s eyes flashed with venom and she shoved her face closer to mine, which intrigued me. These Lee women seemed to have no fear. “Because a biker murdered her brother!”

  Tatum slid between us, her back to me, and forced Monroe away. “Let it go, Roe. Nitro hated that man as much as I did.”

  “I don’t get it, Tatum. Yesterday you wanted nothing to do with Storm and now you’re defending him.”

  “A lot can happen in a day. I’ll fill you in later, okay?”

  Monroe sent one last glare my way before agreeing to what Tatum had asked. It was obvious to us all, though, that the last thing she wanted to do was let it go.

  “Tatum,” a petite blonde woman said as she entered the parlour from a back room. She walked with hesitation, her eyes not meeting mine. “Did Dwayne go by the club last night?”

  “I haven’t heard anything to say he did,” Tatum replied. “How are you doing?”

  Before she could answer, a guy joined us. Tattoos covered almost every inch of skin I could see, and I figured the familiarity between him and Monroe that he worked with her.

  Leaning casually against the front counter of the parlour where we stood, he frowned at Tatum. “Who the fuck gave you those bruises, T?”