Harrison (Devil's Flame MC Book 4)

by Romi Hart

  She started the car and headed home, trying to calm the emotions that were running through her, blending and swirling in a big chaotic ball of confusion. She knew she needed to suck it up and move on, but just for a moment, Skye decided to let the pity party continue. She had no idea how she was going to earn enough tips to even come close to what she was getting from the customer Harrison had battered.

  Skye pulled into her driveway and went inside still feeling miffed and sorry for herself as she poured a drink. She tried to steer her thoughts away from the events last night, the concern for the future, and her confrontation with Harrison, which hadn’t done anything to reassure her, and still could not wrap her mind around his position on things.

  She’d never wanted to become a stripper. She didn’t mind it, most of the time, but it hadn’t been her dream. It had come out of necessity when she’d fled her former life and had to find a way to support herself. And she was good at it, had honed the skill so that she could make her bank fast and get the hell out. She refused to think of dancing as a lifelong career. She wanted to move on before she was too old to bring in a crowd. She may not be thrilled with what she did, but she took pride in doing her best and wanted selfishly to leave while at the top of her game, with the world at her disposal.

  She finished her drink and put the glass in the sink. Deciding it was time to end the wallowing in despair, she headed toward the bathroom to take a shower and wash the negative energy down the drain. She grabbed a towel and wash cloth from the linen closet in the hall and went to turn on a steaming hot stream of water. Skye climbed inside the shower and let the heat sting her flesh for a bit, burning away the damage and singeing away the rage and disappointment, before cooling it off.

  She felt the stiffness of her muscles fall away and the tension from the stress melting and rinsing down the drain as she stood under the steamy spray. She knew she could not allow herself to feel that way for long or she would risk going back to that place of worthlessness and hopelessness she’d left behind when she’d found her way to Texas. Shaking it off, she told herself that she would figure out what needed to be done so that her dream would still be attainable. She was a fighter, not a failure, and she would find a way to succeed.

  7

  He watched as Skye stormed away from him, the guilt he felt at what he had done weighing heavily on his shoulders. He was still glad that those men most likely would not return, but he felt terrible that he had cost her money that would go toward the future endeavor that obviously meant so much to her. Harrison knew deep inside that Skye was not the type to stay in this line of work for too long, and she’d confirmed that when they’d talked, before they’d taken things any further. She had other goals, and he should have thought about what his actions might do to her. He hadn’t, though, and now he was going to pay for it. He wondered how long she was going to be mad at him or if she would ever speak to him again.

  He’d done the best he could with an apology, considering that the rage at how the men acted, how they’d treated her like some toy they could play with. But he had no intention of backing down on the principle, only trying to rectify the damage to her bottom dollar.

  Harrison decided that he needed a break from the club and all the people in it, especially Skye. He wasn’t inclined to face her again any time soon; she would need a while to calm down if he ever expected her to forgive him. She wouldn’t come around overnight, and while he didn’t want to admit it, he needed her to accept his apology. She meant more to him than he wanted to tell her, but he thought that, if he could just get her to stop being angry or fix the damage, he might be able to consider those feelings and telling her about them.

  But he didn’t put too much stock in that. He had never seen any woman that mad at him, not even when he ghosted them. In fact, she’d glossed over that part of the situation, and that said a lot about how his violence and costing her money resonated with her. He’s really screwed up this time.

  With a sigh, he scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to be here, but he needed a distraction, and a game of pool and a beer weren’t going to cut it. Not today. He remembered Rafe mentioning a job, a bit of extra muscle for protection during a particularly sketchy product run the Diamond Kings were making. They were heading through a rival MC’s territory to shorten the journey and didn’t trust the other crew not to ambush them. Corey and Dylan, the president of the Kings, had called ahead to clear the way, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Determined to spend the next couple of days riding with his brothers in the thick of danger, something that would have him fully occupied and not thinking about Skye, he climbed on his bike and headed to the clubhouse. He walked in to find a group of the guys talking about the run and made his way up to Rafe at the head of the group and waited for a break in their conversation.

  “Hey, boss, you got room for one more on this run? If so, I’d like to ride along,” he said with a grin.

  Rafe blinked at him with shocked expression. Of course, it had been a while since Harrison had volunteered to go on the road, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to get out there. And obviously, Rafe saw it in his expression or his stance or something because he grinned in return. “Sure, we can always use extra guys. We’re looking at three or four days, though. You should probably let Eli know he’ll need to find a replacement for you till we’re back. Nothing special, typical ride along with weapons tucked away for a rainy day. We ride out tomorrow at six in the morning.”

  Harrison nodded in understanding and made his way back to his bike. Knowing that he had a few things to take care of before he rode out tomorrow, he figured he should get busy. He needed to talk to Eli and find a stand in, change the oil on his bike, and make sure his house was locked up tight.

  Part of him wanted to go by the club and give Skye a head’s up about what he was doing, but he didn’t want to see her blowing it off or get into a fight about whether or not walking into a dangerous situation was stupid. If she argued her point, he would end up staying behind, and his club brothers would call him weak or whipped or, at the very least, unreliable. And to top it off, he’d be miserable, either twiddling his thumbs trying not to think about the tiny little spitfire or at the strip club, on fire with the urge to roll the heads of any men who touched her. For reasons he just couldn’t understand, that woman had a hold on him that he was unable to shake.

  He made it back to his place to grab a few things, figuring it was better to spend the night at the clubhouse so he could have a few drinks and manage to sleep before the early ride. It had been awhile since he had been on a run, and he sensed the nerves as they tried to sneak up on him, as insistent as the anticipation and eagerness that clawed at him, telling he not to wait, to push for the crew to leave tonight. Harrison knew this was the right choice, to clear his head, before Skye got the best of him. And it was becoming apparent that she was encroaching not only on his head and his libido, but even on his heart, much faster than he wanted to think about.

  “No need to be nervous, shithead, you’ve done this plenty of times before,” he mumbled to himself as he headed back out the door, locking it securely and removing the extra key from its hiding space. He’d leave it in the bunk where the unsavory lot that sometimes hit this neighborhood, looking to make bank on stolen electronics couldn’t find it. His top of the line security system would do the rest.

  By the time he made it back to the clubhouse, taking the scenic route, he had broken free of the nerves and irritation that had ridden him like monkeys on his back, at least for now. It seemed like he had been battling both for ages, and the lightness he felt was almost foreign now. Still, his personal pep talk had done him some good. It might have been his first run in a while, but he still knew how to do it and had faith that nothing bad would happen while they were gone.

  And when he got back, maybe he’d have forgotten his yearning for a tiny blond beauty, or at least drummed up the courage to face her again.

  * * *<
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  Morning came sooner than Harrison had expected, but he was wide awake and anxious to get on the road. Splashing some water on his face and grabbing a mug of coffee, he headed toward the group of men slowly congregating in the main area of the clubhouse, his satchel slung over his shoulder.

  “Hey guys, I’m ready to roll when you are.” He approached Rafe and Corey, who nodded in greeting. The last directions were given, and then they all mounted their motorcycles and took off to meet the Diamond Kings at the designated rendezvous point.

  The wind in his hair and against his cheeks felt nice, and the sound of engines surrounding him was comforting as they hit the barn where the Diamond Kings crew waited. A short discussion and a few nods later, and they were back on the road, headed away from the clubhouse, the strip joint, and everything that had been weighing Harrison down. And yet, even as the sky brightened and the air grew hot and dry with desert dust flying around, causing him to pull up the handkerchief, he couldn’t forget the hurt and rage in that sparkling pair of eyes yesterday.

  What could he do to make things right with Skye? He maintained that he was right for what he had done and that he would do it again in a heartbeat, without question, but at the same time, his violent behavior had put a man in the hospital, a man who meant a great deal to Skye monetarily. And that had been the wrong way to handle the situation. Removing the guy and his hand from her might have been right, but nearly killing him – and her profit margin – was inexcusable.

  And now, he had no idea how to help her recuperate those funds. How could he get her back on track? He was so mad at himself for getting her so damned angry with him. He ground his teeth together in frustration, his thoughts spinning in circles and finding no solution at hand.

  He needed to let it go for now. There was nothing to be done at the moment. All he could do was hope she would be cooled off a bit by the time they got back from the product run so he could talk to her a bit more rationally. He tried to push his thoughts of her away as he rode, not just the anger but the passion they’d shared and her intriguing intelligence and personality. Her drive and ambition. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand, but that was impossibly hard to do when thoughts of Skye and her bombshell body were fluttering through his head like a ticker tape. When they stopped for lunch at a dive café on the outskirts of a one-horse town, he again splashed cold water on his face and tried to think of something else, anything else, to get his mind of that woman with no success.

  He hoped she would be open to talking to him when he returned but he wasn’t going to hold his breath. He’d done a number on her, and he couldn’t guarantee he could find a way back into her good graces, even as the day faded into night and they pulled into a cheap hotel for a rest. He gazed into the darkness ahead, the night illuminated only by the headlights of their motorcycles as they slowed to settle in for the night. At least nature kept him from going mad, and the ride eased his restless nature. Darkness, the open road, and time to consider his approach could all do him some good.

  * * *

  The delivery was made with no issues and no ambushes, by the Ravens or anyone else. Harrison was relieved that nothing had happened and invigorated with the thought of getting back into this part of the game. Truthfully, he’d started feeling a bit lazy, just sitting around at the strip club so much, when he could have been more active. His sense of adventure had been reborn, and while he had a feeling he’d never find his way out of running security with Eli for the girls, he thought maybe he could weasel his way into a run here and there to keep the adrenaline flowing. Maybe it would even keep him from getting violent at the strip club from now on, though there were no guarantees. Every time he thought of some asshole feeling Skye up, he wanted to break bricks on someone’s head.

  Once the delivery was made, they decided to stay and relax a little. He followed the others to a strange house, one that rested in a seedy area and looked like it might have hosted one too many wild parties.

  “This place looks a little on the sketchy side,” he muttered to Rafe as they all pulled up in the driveway and yard, not even caring about roughing up the already mangled and overgrown yard.

  “Don’t be such a pussy, Harrison. It’s ours. We bought it as a crash pad for when we’re out this way. It looks a little run down, but it is a nice place to party and catch a nap,” Rafe told him with a laugh as they dismounted.

  Rocky smiled. “Yeah, and every single chick within a twenty mile radius will show up tonight for a little hands on, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not a pussy, I just don’t feel like getting busted for drugs because this place looks like: a crack house,” Harrison retorted. He shook his head.

  The others laughed heartily at his joke, but he wasn’t exactly playing around. Something about this place gave off bad vibes. Harrison knew he had done the right thing by questioning the place. Once inside, he saw the others were right, and it was not that bad of a place to crash. There were two sets of bunk beds in each of the bedrooms, plenty of room for everyone to have a space to sleep, and the kitchen was fully stocked. There was even a barbecue hiding out in the backyard.

  The party started soon after, with women pouring in as Rocky had promised. There were dancing bodies all over the place. He grabbed a fresh drink as the sun dipped below the horizon and the smell of meat in the smoker filled the air, and he wandered through the crowd. He had just started to think this might be the remedy to his hang up on Skye when a voluptuous brunette caught his eye. She moved her body seductively to the music in such a way that he could feel his cock thickening against the fabric of his jeans. He tried to calm himself and reached down to adjust his crotch so no one would see the erection forming in his pants as he watched her dance, but the way she moved only made Harrison want to fuck her.

  “Hey,” he said as he made his way over to her and tried to match her movements to the music.

  “Hi there,” she replied in a sultry tone. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Harrison. But I have a feeling you might end up calling me God or Jesus. What do you say we go find a place and fuck each other’s brains out?” he asked her without preamble. For some reason, he knew if he didn’t make his move right away, he’d lose his nerve. And as much as his cock ached with need, he refused to let the opportunity slide. He needed relief…and a quick, hard release.

  The girl smiled devilishly and wrapped her arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his. She took his hand and led him through the house and up the stairs to an empty room at the end of the hall. She flung the door open and pulled him inside, and they tumbled onto the bed. The girl pressed her lips to his with an urgency that he had only felt one other time, and it caused him to freeze up. She stopped when she noticed his lips were not returning her kisses.

  “What’s wrong, stud? Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked as she reached for his belt and tried to unclasp it, her other hand stroking the imprint of his erection through his jeans.

  He placed his hand over hers, holding it still and feeling his cock’s excitement waning, and she looked at him with a confused expression on her face. She pulled both her hands back and scooted away from him on the bed. “I see how this is going to go, it happens all the time. A guy thinks he wants to fuck the chubby girl, but when it comes right down to it, he chickens the fuck out,” she said, anger and self loathing lacing her tone.

  Harrison was startled at the comment. He felt bad about not being able to go through with it, realizing he’d hurt the girl’s feelings in a way he never intended. He wanted to explain that she was gorgeous, that he was definitely attracted to her and his hesitance had nothing to do with her being fat, but he wasn’t sure how to put it into words that would resonate with her and not hurt her worse than he already had. But he had to try. He wasn’t the kind of man who discriminated based on size, and he wasn’t going to give her some additional misguided body image issues she shouldn’t have.

  “No, it isn’t that at all. Sweethea
rt, you’re not fat, and your curves are banging. I would do you in a heartbeat. That’s why I approached you to start with. You’re the hottest chick here. Problem is, I’m into a chick that’s not here. I think I’m a little infatuated with her, and I can’t get her out of my head. She’s really mad at me right now, and I don’t know how to fix it. I thought I could act on an impulse and get over it, get back to myself, but apparently I can’t, and I’m sorry. Otherwise, I’d have you in a million different positions tonight.” He smiled at her a bit sheepishly, feeling honesty was the best way for her to understand. It also felt good to get all that off his chest.

  She nodded her understanding, and he thought he saw a bit of a smile crossing her lips at his compliments, however rough around the edges they were. Feeling that he’d made his amends here, he got up, kissed her forehead, and headed back down the stairs to find the keg that had been delivered a while ago. He was going to drown himself in alcohol and try to make all his feelings disappear. Maybe then he’d be able to get his rocks off. Was that even possible? He had no idea, but he knew was he was going to try. He walked into the kitchen and was handed a beer, and he drained it, reaching for another and chugging it as well. Waiting for his refill impatiently, he decided maybe he’d ignore the women and just do this all night.

  * * *

  Harrison fought to maintain control of his guts, crawling on the floor to get to the bathroom. He felt the volcano roiling, the nausea reaching epic levels of acidity in his throat, and he didn’t want to throw up anywhere in the house. He tried to hurry to the bathroom, thankfully finding it unoccupied and making it just in time to let loose over the porcelain pulpit. He could barely hold himself up over the toilet, and his vision was blurred beyond sight, colors blending and swirling into a dark mess that left him insanely dizzy. Hearing the guys outside the bathroom door asking if he was all right, their voices muffled, and he suddenly found it hard to breathe as he curled up on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. He knew something was wrong, very wrong, but he could not find his voice or get the strength up to call out for help. He tried smacking the tile floor with his hand, but he couldn’t lift his hand far enough or give it the power to hit hard enough to make a sound.