Sydney Storm MC Complete Series

by Levine, Nina

  My fierce resolve not to cave to his demands crumbled at the sight of him standing in front of me begging for my help. There was no doubt in my mind as to his sincerity. I didn’t know this man, but from everything I’d seen of him at the hospital, I knew he cared for his sister. And if there was one thing in this world I respected more than anything, it was someone who would do whatever it took to provide and care for their loved ones.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  The tension he carried in his shoulders appeared to loosen as he lifted his brows and said, “So that’s a yes?”

  Against my better judgement, I nodded. “It’s a yes. I’ll start tomorrow after work.” I couldn’t believe the words falling out of my mouth, but I also couldn’t stop them. It was like he’d cast a spell over me.

  “Thank you,” he said, the hard, determined tone vanishing from his voice. I didn’t know him enough to be sure, but his words seemed to be laced with relief and gratitude. He definitely didn’t appear as strained as he’d been at the beginning of the conversation.

  “Right, so now this is sorted, can I please go to bed? I’ve had a long day and need some sleep.”

  He nodded. “I’ll text you the address.”

  As he turned to leave, I said, “And King?” He glanced back at me. “Don’t make it a habit of calling on me late at night. I’m not a fan.”

  His lips twitched with a smile that didn’t quite form. “I have no fucking idea how your ex gets away with the shit he pulls on you.”

  With that, he was gone, the rumble of his bike signalling his departure a couple of minutes later. I was left staring after him, hoping that working with Skylar didn’t also mean seeing a lot of him. King had a way of contradicting himself that revealed more about him each time we talked. With each new layer I discovered, I couldn’t help liking him more. And that could prove bad for me, because while being attracted to him was one thing, liking him more than I already did would be a whole other situation to deal with.

  * * *

  I hardly slept that night. I couldn’t get King out of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his eyes, his lips, his scar and those muscles of his. And I heard the growl of his voice, because even when King talked to you in an everyday conversation, his voice held a trace of the growl I suspected lived deep in him. The growl that would be kryptonite to a woman.

  By the time I finished work the next day and drove to his clubhouse, exhaustion had claimed me. Thank goodness Brynn had an early day on Tuesdays—she’d offered to cook dinner for us all at my place tonight so that when I got home, I could put my feet up and relax. I’d be having an early one tonight, and if King stopped by late again, I’d freaking tell him where to go.

  His men let me through the gate, and I continued along the driveway to find the parking space near the front door that they’d kept free for me. I passed a line of about ten parked bikes before I arrived at my destination. A few bikers eyed me as I passed them. None smiled. I didn’t expect them to, but I also didn’t expect them to look so serious. I should have anticipated that, though, because King was the most intense man I’d ever met, so it made sense his men would be the same.

  The Storm MC clubhouse was huge. Black paint covered the entire building, with not a window in sight. My gaze was drawn to the Storm MC sign painted on the building high above the front door. I found it all to be a little intimidating—entering the world of bikers who I knew nothing of except for what I’d read in the papers. But King had won me over with the way he cared for Skylar, so I trusted him enough to do this.

  “Lily,” a voice I knew called out as I exited my car.

  Turning, I found Devil standing at the front door. I’d spoken to him a few times at the hospital and quite liked him. Where King seemed fierce, Devil seemed a little lighter. He definitely smiled more.

  Locking my car, I headed his way. “I found the place, but I’ve gotta tell you, you guys are kinda hidden in here. I like the forest you built around your clubhouse.” I’d almost driven straight past the property due to the trees hiding it from the street.

  He grinned. “It keeps the assholes out.” He jerked his chin towards the front door. “Skylar’s been hanging out for you all day.”

  I knew this to be true. She’d texted me five times throughout the day with different questions about her recovery. King hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said she was anxious.

  Devil led me inside, down a maze of hallways to Skylar’s room. It surprised me how quiet the clubhouse was. I’d kind of expected with the size of it, that there’d be a lot of bikers inside, but I saw only four men along the way. They were all as subdued as the men I’d passed outside. I wondered if they ever smiled and had fun.

  Skylar’s eyes lit up the minute I stepped into her room. “Thank God you’re here.”

  As I moved further into the room, I wondered what it was usually used for. Completely masculine with photos of bikes on the walls, men’s clothing hanging in the open wardrobe, and filled with dark wood and leather, I guessed it to be one of the bikers’ rooms. Do they live here? That seemed a strange idea to me. Did their families live here? I couldn’t imagine wanting to live here if I were married to one of the men.

  “Do you need me to get anything for you?” Devil asked, cutting into my thoughts.

  I smiled at him and shook my head. “No, I’m good.”

  “Just yell out if you need me,” he said. “I’ll be down the hall in the bar.”

  “You guys have a bar here?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Stop by on your way out and have a drink with us.”

  “God, if only I could. I’ve got three kids waiting for me at home, of which one is a fourteen-year-old who’s trying to kill me with her boy-crazy ways. I’ve gotta be at full capacity to deal with that, so alcohol is reserved for later in the night after I’ve survived her.”

  He frowned. “Surely you’re not old enough to have a fourteen-year-old.”

  “Trust me, I feel sixty some days.”

  Winking, he said, “Well, sixty looks good on you.”

  I turned to Skylar after he left. “He seems like he’d be a lot of fun.”

  She shifted in her chair. “Yeah, I really like Devil. He’s not as serious or bossy as the other guys.”

  I eyed the chair she sat in. “We need to get you a different chair and a stool.”

  “Why?”

  “That one is too low. And a stool will help with swelling.” I dumped my bag on the bed and dragged the spare chair in the room close to her. Sitting, I said, “Now, talk to me. Tell me what’s concerning you, and we’ll talk through it all so you know why stuff is happening and how you can move forward without so much worry.”

  Her face crumpled and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I feel so stupid to worry about all this, but I’m stuck here while King won’t let me go home and I’m in pain and I don’t want to do anything to hurt my hip and I hate asking people for help and…” She shuddered as a loud sob escaped. “I just feel out of control with everything going on and I’m worried I’ll never get back to how I was before.”

  My heart ached for her. I saw this kind of stress in many patients, especially those like Skylar who weren’t prepared for an operation and the recovery they’d have to go through. I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s take all that one at a time. I’m going to get you through this, Skylar, and you are going to make a full recovery. However, you’re going to have to make me a promise.”

  She blinked through her tears. “What?”

  “I need you to promise me that you’ll trust me completely and believe that I know my shit. If I tell you to do something, you’ll do it. You can ask me all the questions under the sun, but at the end of the day, you will do what I say, because you know that I know my shit. Okay?”

  A small smile peeked out from under her tears. “God, you’re going to fit in around here.”

  “Yeah? Why?”

  “Because you’re just as bossy a
s my brother.”

  “Well, let’s not go that far. I can be bossy, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got nothing on King.” I stood. “Now, repeat after me—‘you know your shit, Lily’.”

  Her small smile morphed into a larger one. “You know your shit, Lily.”

  I nodded. “Right, let’s go over what I want you to do each day, and then I’m gonna get you up and take you for a walk.”

  We went over the list of activities I wanted her to do, and then I took her for a short walk around the clubhouse. She seemed scared of walking, so I focused on getting her more comfortable with her crutches. By the end of our session, her anxiety levels had dropped and she appeared more confident in her ability to get through her recovery.

  “Thank you so much for saying yes to this,” she said as I picked up my bag to leave. “I know King was probably really pushy about it, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m so glad to have you helping me.”

  “Yeah, he was pushy, but that’s what brothers are for, right?”

  “True, but I do know how he can be, so sorry.”

  “All good.” I headed for the door, glancing back at her before I exited. “You good for tonight?”

  The smile that spread across her face was what I was looking for. “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ll stop by after work again tomorrow.”

  I headed down the hallway to leave, but I managed to take a wrong turn at some point and ended up in an area of the clubhouse I hadn’t seen yet. As soon as I realised I’d gone in the wrong direction, I turned to go back. And ran smack bang into a hard back as a voice boomed, “Mace, where the fuck are those headache pills?”

  King.

  He’d stepped out into the hallway at the same time I’d turned around, and I’d run into the back of him. In an effort to steady myself, I reached out and gripped his arms.

  “Goodness, someone has their cranky pants on,” I muttered, letting him go as I found my balance again.

  Turning, he stared down at me, his cranky mood clear in his eyes. “Are you finished with Skylar?” His question came out as a bark, matching his mood.

  Jesus, I didn’t have the energy to deal with his bad temper. “Yes. I’m just leaving now, but I got lost in your hallways.”

  He took that in before turning away from me, and barking out again, “Mace! Get your ass here. I need those pills and I have a job for you.”

  “Do you speak to everyone that way? ’Cause I gotta tell you, I wouldn’t get my ass here if you yelled at me like that.”

  His head whipped back around to face me as he demanded, “What did you just say?”

  I didn’t miss the way he winced, as if he were in pain. “I said that I wouldn’t get my ass here—”

  Irritation flashed in his eyes. “I know what you said,” he snapped, rubbing his temple.

  “Oh for God’s sake,” I muttered, rummaging in my bag for the peppermint oil I always carried. “You are freaking moody today. Come here.”

  A guy joined us, looking anything but confident. Shoving a box of Advil at King, he said, “Sorry, King, I couldn—”

  King cut him off with a snarl. “I don’t want your fucking excuses, Mace.”

  Good Lord, I didn’t like this side of King.

  Mace glanced between King and me. “What job do you want me to do?”

  “Lily needs help finding her way outside.”

  I shook my head. “Not yet.” I held up the bottle of peppermint oil. “First, I’m going to fix that headache of yours.”

  King looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “I have pills for that. Mace’ll get you to your car.”

  “Those pills will do jack for you, King. Get your ass into a chair and let me work my magic.” Mace’s eyes widened, and King looked like he was about to blow a gasket. Before he could argue with me, I added, “You have nothing to lose by letting me do this, and I can guarantee you’ll be thanking me later.”

  Mace backed away slowly. “I’ll come back when you guys have finished.”

  King’s eyes never left me as he said, “Don’t go too far. This won’t take long.”

  Mace nodded and took off. I didn’t blame him. King did not appear to be impressed with anything at the moment, especially not with me. I should have just left his cranky ass to rely on Advil, but I knew that wouldn’t work as well as what I could do for him, so I persevered and kept reminding myself that I too could be a moody bitch when a headache was ripping my head apart.

  I peeked into the room he’d exited and found it was an office. Nodding towards it, I said, “Sit,” making sure to use the bossy tone I usually reserved for my kids.

  His brows lifted, but he didn’t argue this time. A couple of moments later, I stood behind him and massaged some oil into his forehead, temples and then the back of his neck. As soon as my fingers touched him, I knew this was one of my worst ideas ever. And I had a lot of freaking bad ideas. But this one took the cake. Touching him and being this close to him caused my belly to flutter all over the damn place. I couldn’t remember the last time a man made me feel this way. Shit, it had to be because I hadn’t had sex in six months. That long without it would probably make my belly flutter over any man.

  Liar.

  Shut up.

  He’s hot.

  Ah no, he’s moody as fuck.

  Yeah, but he’s still hot. You would fuck him in a heartbeat.

  My fingers froze in the middle of massaging the oil into his neck.

  I totally would fuck him.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  King stretched his neck from side to side. “You finished?”

  “No,” I blurted, taking hold of his neck to stop his movement. “Sit still.”

  He pulled away from me and stood. “We’re done,” he said, his tone signalling that this wasn’t up for discussion. He didn’t know me, though. Everything was always up for discussion. Especially when I knew I was right.

  Straightening my shoulders, I said, “We are not done, King. Your neck and shoulders are so hard and tight. I’ve got something to rub into them that will help with that.”

  He glanced down at my bag sitting on his table. “How much shit do you carry in your bag?”

  “Clearly lots of shit that you need.” I couldn’t work out why he was being so bloody difficult about this. “Look, I’m just trying to help you because you seem to be in a lot of pain. Are you always this obstinate when someone tries to help you?”

  Scrubbing his face, he muttered, “Fine,” before sitting back down.

  Finally.

  Getting him to do what I wanted was almost as frustrating as getting Zara to do something.

  I grabbed my hot pepper muscle stick out of my bag and unscrewed the lid. I then placed my hand on his shoulders and gently massaged him through his shirt, feeling for knots. He needed more than this muscle stick.

  “You need a massage,” I said, figuring I was wasting my breath.

  “I don’t have time for a massage.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say that, but you should make the time. You’d be a new man after a few massages.”

  “Fuck, Lily, can you just get this shit rubbed on so I can get back to work?”

  I could have seriously throttled him and his moodiness. Instead, I decided to get this done and get the heck out of there. Tapping his back, I said, “Take your shirt off.”

  He took a few moments, but he did what I said, pulling his black T-shirt over his head and dumping it on the desk. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw next. A huge tattoo covered his back, the same image of a skull and wings that I’d seen on this building. It wasn’t the tattoo that caused me to falter, though. The scars on one side of his back caused that. Some were hidden under the tattoo, but there were many that weren’t. It looked like someone had taken a knife to that part of his back and tried to slash it to pieces.

  What had King lived through to end up with so many scars on his body? My heart hurt just to think about it.

  Pulling myself together, I ran the stick
over his shoulders and upper back. The heat from it would help relax his muscles. I would have preferred to place a warm towel over his back after applying it, but I figured I had zero possibility of getting him to agree to that. So instead, I used my hands and massaged the balm into his skin, trying to get extra heat in that way.

  As I worked my way up his neck, he dropped his head forward and groaned.

  Holy shit.

  That sound coming from King did things to me.

  Really freaking good things.

  If he didn’t really need this, I would pack up and leave right now.

  I did not need him to be doing those really freaking good things to me.

  But he needed this, so I stayed.

  He ended up allowing me to massage him for a good ten minutes before growling, “That’s enough,” and abruptly standing. Grabbing his shirt, he threw it back on before facing me. “Pack up your stuff and I’ll walk you out.”

  I frowned, unsure why he was being so brusque with me. This was different to the crankiness of earlier. It was like he couldn’t get me out of here fast enough. “Did I do something wrong? I thought the massage was good.”

  His features hardened. “I’ve got shit to do.”

  I stared at him, incredulous at the way he was treating me. “Fine,” I muttered, throwing my stuff into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  He led me through the clubhouse, out to where I’d parked my car. We didn’t say a word to each other, and he grunted at anyone in his way to move. This was the asshole King that my boss had warned me about that first day in the hospital. I’d never met a man like him, and I really didn’t like him when he acted this way.

  He pushed through the front door of the clubhouse and held it open for me to exit. Our eyes met for a moment as I passed by, but still, no words were exchanged. It wasn’t until I was halfway to my car that he finally said something. “Thanks for what you said to Skylar today.”