Scorpion: A Rough Romance (Montana Bad Boys Book 2)

by Piper Stone

  Reaper, a lost soul. He was the true soldier, incapable of separating the war from home life.

  And... Snake, my buddy. He’d been my best friend since I’m lumbered into the group’s private gang when I was twelve years old. I’d been lucky Snake hadn’t allowed Reaper to beat the crap out of me.

  I chuckled from the memory, even as a moment of sadness snagged the warm visions, replacing them with ones that remained haunting.

  Blood.

  Despair.

  Death.

  “Watch out!” Hawk bellowed as he dragged Vader toward the helicopter. “We have to get the fuck out of here!”

  I snagged Reaper, yelling at him to get the fuck onto the bird, Mustang jerking his arm. The sound of rapid gunfire was all around us, even as the whirl of the blades pounded into my ears, the sand and dirt suffocating.

  As the other men of the expeditionary unit jumped inside the bird, Vader refused to let go of Hawk’s arm, although blood seeped through his uniform.

  Fuck. We weren’t going to make it out of here. I turned around, expecting Snake to be on my trail.

  “Wait,” I called, the call drowned out by the combination of sounds.

  “We can’t leave him out there!” Vader exclaimed, gasping for breath.

  Snake. He meant Snake. Oh, God. How could it have happened?

  “Get the fuck inside.” Hawk pushed him into Mustang’s arms, giving him a hard glare. “Get him on board.”

  “Where the fuck you going?” Mustang hissed. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving without Snake.” The rapid popping of continuous gunfire was getting closer.

  I tried to shift closer to the door, but Reaper yanked me back, whispering hoarsely, “There’s nothing we can do right now. We will come back for him.”

  “All for one and one for all, remember? We do not leave a man down!” I insisted, trying to jerk free from Reaper’s hold.

  “Then we’ll all fucking die!” Mustang snapped.

  “He’s right, Hawk. We have about twenty seconds to get the fuck out of here or we’re all going down,” Reaper snarled, jumping out of the bird and grabbing Hawk. “Come on, buddy. You know the drill. We have to get back. You must save your men.”

  As Hawk roared, a spray of bullets hitting the hull, a vision of Snake’s face flashed into my mind. He was doing what he loved the most. It was his duty to save the prisoners.

  I took a deep breath, looking away, as if changing direction would shove the ugliness from my mind. As I slumped into the chair, I was forced to face the fact that nothing was going to alter the memories, or the nightmares. Even time wasn’t going to change what had happened, the decisions made. Would I do it all over again?

  That was a question that I continued to ask myself, much like I figured the other men had done. As my gaze drifted to the weapon I’d left on the table, I eased my hand across the cool surface of the cheap wood, fingering the barrel. How many times had the pain become unbearable? How many times had I almost lost my shit? Too many to even think about.

  Then I jerked to a standing position, finding the cap for the damn bottle, gasping for air as I tried three times to screw the damn thing back on.

  Getting drunk wasn’t going to do me any good. I had work to do, decisions to make. I grabbed the weapon, making certain the safety was on then shoved it into one of the drawers.

  One day I would die.

  But not today.

  As I walked out of the kitchen, I gave the room another look.

  Then I turned off the light.

  Maybe there was such a thing as new beginnings.

  Chapter Three

  Caroline

  “Mmm...”

  “You’re a brat,” he growled.

  Yes, I was... Wait a minute. As I eased from the intense haze, I could still see a sexy as hell image playing in my fuzzy mind. Was it real or just a beautiful fantasy?

  I rolled over, still able to gather a whiff of his scent. So rugged. So manly. One savage cowboy.

  Him...

  Shit.

  I jerked up, uncertain of my whereabouts. Oh, God. What had I done? I pressed my hand against my head, blinking several times until my eyes became accustomed to the light and my surroundings. My mind remained foggy, but I had a pretty good guess that I hadn’t gone to sleep in my cousin’s spare bedroom.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, trying to move as little as possible while I scanned the room. No, I wasn’t in the beautifully decorated and extremely modern bedroom in a quaint townhouse. This was something else entirely. Swallowing both apprehension and bile, I controlled my racing heart, the ugliness from the night before pressing against my brainwaves. I remember being exhausted, the arduous trip as well as the adrenaline kicking my ass.

  A cheap bar with even cheaper booze.

  Cowboys with octopus hands.

  Bad behavior.

  And the... cowboy, although I could hardly call him that. He certainly didn’t have the scruffy appearance of the others inside the bar. No, he was clean cut, except for the two- or three-day stubble adding to his rugged appearance. He’d saved me.

  Then he’d kissed me.

  Then he’d...

  “Oh, God.”

  Gasping, I yanked the covers down, expecting to see my naked body. I was fully clothed, only my boots removed. Now I was confused. I lay back onto the pillow, trying to put together the pieces of what had occurred the night before. Or maybe it was still the middle of the night. There was no light coming through the ugly drapes. Should I be terrified or grateful? At least I was alive and not chained to the bed.

  But was I locked in? Oh, shit. Scrambling out of bed, I rushed toward the door, taking gasping breaths when I realized I hadn’t been locked in. I shifted against the dresser, half laughing as memories of the bar rushed in.

  The kiss had been... magnificent, his taste matching his aggressive personality.

  As I rubbed my eyes, I realized that everything had been far too enjoyable. A rush of guilt flooded my system. I didn’t even know the rugged man. A few of the details shifted into my mind, although I wasn’t entirely certain whether to believe them. Was he really Jasper’s nephew? My father had insisted that I talk with him, although my guess was that my father simply hadn’t wanted to deal with him any longer and I was the new kid on the block. Then I’d spent a couple of weeks on and off talking to Jasper. The forceful man had been trying his best to lure someone from our firm into coming to Missoula in order to determine whether his club was the right place for several of the artists my father’s firm promoted.

  Even I’d ignored Jasper, blowing him off countless time. Then my life had shifted into disaster mode, pushing me into taking a leap of faith.

  Or stupidity.

  My father had interfered, strongly suggesting I take a trip, although his words had been strong, demanding.

  “We need to expand, Caroline. It’s up to you to make this work. I won’t tolerate failure.”

  Now I was in Missoula, the bar a total disaster. How the hell was I supposed to report to my father that I’d failed? I was the failure of the family, the only sibling who hadn’t secured a future including a family and the career of my lifetime. Five brothers had found their way, two finding their life’s dream in sports and three in major businesses. I was the little sister, the one who’d insisted that I could be a country music star.

  Where the hell had that gotten me?

  A direct connection back to my father’s business, a place I’d never wanted to find myself in.

  My aching head reminded me of the ridiculous behavior I’d displayed. I’d never fallen into such unbecoming conduct in my life. Was it the tequila I’d consumed? Shaking my head, I’d allow myself to blame the liquor for the time being.

  But I knew better.

  My behavior had been spiraling out of control for the past three weeks, my trip to Missoula likely the last straw for my father. There was little I could do but try to regain my humility a
s well as find a classy way of shutting down Jasper’s request. Had the man really died and I hadn’t been told? It was entirely possible. I hadn’t been his good friend or anything.

  If the hunky man who’d saved me from myself was involved in running the bar, I’d be forced find some way to dig out of the quicksand I’d tripped into. One way or the other. I certainly couldn’t have my father finding out that I’d made a fool of myself. I was already walking a tightwire, my own father prepared to fire me. Besides, my cousin would kill me if I made her late to work in the morning. I’d been forced to beg Brandy to borrow her car in the first place.

  Why the hell hadn’t I insisted on a rental car? That would change.

  I realized my nipples were scraping against my bra, my pussy aching. Why? Why would I have such an intense reaction to a man I didn’t know?

  And the asshole had spanked me. In front of other human beings. Oh, God. My stomach nauseous, I eased back into the bed, burying myself under the covers and glaring at the light. When my thoughts drifted to the naughty side of life, I was mortified, even as I rolled over, trying to catch a hint of his masculine scent as my thoughts drifted.

  Was this the bed he slept in?

  Did he really own the bar?

  Was he as hot under the sheets as his presence would indicate?

  Did he have one big, fat, and delicious cock?

  Wait a minute. He wasn’t Prince Charming, more like the big bad wolf.

  A giggle erupted from the bad girl inside of me, creating an aura of heat that seemed to float around me.

  My God. I was insane, sick inside for thinking that way. I would simply thank him in the morning for being such a...

  Harsh disciplinarian.

  Asshole who’d abducted me.

  Jerk who thought he was all that and a bag of chips.

  One rugged and sexy man.

  Oh, God. I really had lost it.

  Leaving was in my best interest, as long as I could figure out where the hell I was. I grabbed my boots, struggling to put them on, so freaking unsteady on my feet that I fell back onto the bed. I laid exactly where I was, staring up at the ceiling and chastising my behavior. The concept of looking the cowboy in the eye when I was sober was too much to bear. While I had no recollection of the ride in the broken-down shit for a truck, I’d either find a way back to my car or I’d walk.

  As if I knew where the hell I was.

  I couldn’t even call Brandy to come get me, my phone left in the car since I didn’t have a place to put it in my skirt. I immediately slipped my hand into my pocket, groaning when I realized everything was missing. God, what the hell had I done and why? While Brandy had suggested I needed to let loose in order to find myself, I doubted getting tipsy at a redneck bar was what she’d had in mind.

  Heat cresting along my jaw, I jerked up, placing my hand on my throbbing temple. After noticing the cash, my key, and my identification neatly laid out, I wanted to rip out the man’s eyes. How dare he pick through my pockets? Had he felt up my entire body while I was asleep? Incensed, I grabbed my things, shoving them into my pocket as I headed for the door.

  My hand still shaking from the effects of the alcohol, I turned the knob, cringing as the hinges of the door creaked when I opened it. Everything seemed almost deathly quiet, except for a slight crackling sound. I’d know it anywhere. A fire. I folded my arms as I walked into the hallway, allowing my eyes to get used to the darkness.

  With every step I took, I was reminded of the humiliating experience from before. I could still hear the jeers from a good dozen cowboys, encouraging the big man to punish me like a bad girl. Thank God, I was only visiting the damn city. I never wanted to see any of them ever again.

  Sadly, I’d have to make one last visit to the club while remaining sober, making some sort of a decent report for the file. I grimaced at the thought.

  When I walked into the living room, the warm glow allowed a limited amount of light, yet enough to see the hulking man had fallen asleep on the couch. He’d given up his bedroom for a stranger. I wasn’t certain how my brain should react. Given my recent past, I wasn’t used to anyone being selfless.

  As I padded closer, my eyes drifted to the still crackling wood in the fire. There was a distinct chill in the air, the house likely only warmed by the fireplace. Perhaps the house had once belonged to the cowboy’s uncle as well. I inched closer, studying him. He’d carried himself like a true cowboy, all swagger and arrogance, but his appearance indicated something else entirely. He was military. I was certain of it. From his short cropped blond hair to his tough and rugged physique, he gave off an aura of danger.

  And the way he’d handled the assholes in the bar? He’d been specially trained, capable of killing with his bare hands.

  Swallowing hard, I moved to within a few inches of the couch, peering down at him. Damn, the man was gorgeous, even more so than my foggy brain remembered. Every part of him was rock hard, his features chiseled, his face a perfect formation of a superhuman race. Even the way his rugged blue jeans formed across his muscular thighs and his... glorious cock suggested the dense material was created with only his body in mind. I laughed at my thoughts, reaching out involuntarily, as if touching him was a good decision.

  He’d saved me from the nasty cowboys even though I’d egged them on. Maybe he had saved me from myself, reckless behavior that I’d promised myself would never happen again.

  Jerking back, I couldn’t help but notice how he’d folded his arms. He had to be cold. Backing away, I moved quickly into the bedroom, grabbing the quilt he’d used to cover me. I had difficulty breathing as I walked back into the living room, carefully placing the covering over him. While he shifted in his sleep, his mouth pursing, he remained asleep.

  I inched toward the fire, studying him for a few minutes as I struggled to get warm. He was truly a gorgeous man in every way. A few seconds later, I admonished my thoughts, realizing that there was nothing I could do until it was light outside. I gave him one last longing look, shocked my body continued to react to a man I didn’t have a clue about.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the ring of keys on the coffee table. All kinds of mischievous thoughts rushed into my mind. There were about a dozen reasons why stealing his truck was a bad idea. Maybe more. I chewed on the inside of my cheek before gingerly easing the thick wad into my hand.

  I’d figure out a way to return his truck. Somehow.

  Some way.

  Or, I’d just leave it at the bar.

  The second I walked around the couch and made it two feet away, I knew I’d been caught.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The cowboy’s tone was gruff, although so husky that it wrapped around me like a fabulous flannel blanket.

  Shuddering, I clenched my fingers around the thick mass of keys, trying to figure out how to get myself out of this. I was a damn adult, having spent years on my own after college. Now I was acting like a stupid kid.

  All because of a past that continued to haunt me.

  “Nothing.” Nothing? Did I actually think that was going to work? I cringed when I heard his deep exhale as well as the slight rustle as he removed the quilt.

  “So, we’re going to add theft to your string of crimes?”

  Wait a minute...

  “Crimes?” I demanded, jerking around to face him, ready to wipe the smirk off his face. “I was just borrowing your truck, buster. That’s all. I need to get out of here. I have a life and things to accomplish.”

  “Uh-huh. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “And why is that? I’m a big girl.”

  Snorting, he rose to his feet and headed in my direction, the hard stomping sound his boots made with every step making me jump.

  “You might be a big girl, but you’re acting like a teenager. You have no idea where you are, and you were getting ready to commit grand larceny. I think those are reasons enough, but if not,” he half whispered as he closed the distance, “I’ll give you
another one. Because I won’t allow it.”

  Okay, wait. Now the man thought he controlled me? “Funny how you think I’m required to follow your orders. Why?”

  “Yep. You are. You’re in my house and that’s reason enough.” He wrapped his hand around my forearm, yanking me toward him, lifting his eyebrow when I kept my hand clamped tightly around his keys. “If I hadn’t caught you before you walked out that door, you might have ended up on the side of the road. Or worse. You could have killed somebody. It’s apparent that you need some discipline in your life.”

  “Oh, no. Fuck you,” I said, although I opened my hand, allowing him to remove the keys. The scent of him, so rugged and masculine, was more intoxicating than the damn tequila. But the way his eyes bore into mine was positively unnerving. It was as if he was peeling away several layers, finding the vulnerable girl inside.

  And I hated it.

  “If you don’t stop cursing, I will be happy to wash that bratty mouth of yours with soap. My house. My rules.”

  I honestly had no witty comeback, no sarcastic words to say in order to get myself out of the hole I’d dug. “What does that mean?”

  “First of all, it means what I said. You’re not going anywhere until you figure out where the hell you’re supposed to go. The roads around here are dangerous, including the wildlife. Second, you need a stronger reminder that bad behavior equals consequences.”

  Another wave of heat shot up from my neck, crawling along my cheeks. The man was going to punish me again. I was sick to my stomach, my entire body shaking, yet my pussy had already leaked into my panties. They would soon be soaked. “You’re going to spank me.” For some reason, my words came out more like an affirmation than a question.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do, only this time, I’m going to use my belt. Just like I promised. Maybe using a thick leather strap will be able to get through to you, Caroline.”

  My God, the way he said my name was as if he had every right to treat me like a child. “And what should I call you? Do you actually have a name, or do you just go by Neanderthal?” Other than just asshole?