Harrison (Devil's Flame MC Book 4)

by Romi Hart

  He wanted this Donny guy to suffer, to pay for what he’d done to Skye. He didn’t know how far things had gone, but no one was going to get away with mistreating Skye. It looked like he was damn near raping her, and he wouldn’t tolerate that behavior with any of the girls in this club. But when it came to Skye, she could hate him for it if she wanted. He was going to protect her, and if that meant destroying this son of a bitch, so be it.

  There was no more struggle, the body that had flailed and tried to protect itself no more than a beanbag as he kicked him again. Harrison reared back to kick again, but this time, several men took him down, and his body convulsed.

  Taser.

  He fell, multiple police officers tackling him as emergency responders aimed for the body he’d left lying there. A part of Harrison hoped the guy was dead. Then again, he would rather not go to jail for the rest of his life. He couldn’t fight, and he could barely see, the electrical impulses flowing through his body and making it hard to focus on anything. But he was aware of the handcuffs on his wrists as they turned him on his face, and he heard the chaos erupt around him as his security detail finally took action, trying to rein in the crowd.

  He’d go quietly to jail. He understood he’d screwed up, and there would be some price to pay. But he needed to know one thing before he got hauled out of here like some common criminal. “Rocky!” he shouted as they drew him to his feet. He looked around, seeking out the kid who was going to be the only new patch for a very long time, if he had anything to do with it. Rocky fought through the disastrous surroundings, and he peered over the shoulders of the surrounding authority figures. “Get Skye out of here!” he called, satisfied with Rocky’s nod of acknowledgement.

  He went limp, making the cops carry him out. He would go without a fight, but that didn’t mean he had to go easily. But knowing that Skye would be alright eased his mind, and he was willing to take whatever punishment they doled out.

  * * *

  He’d had enough run-ins with the police to know there was no love lost between them, so Harrison wasn’t surprised when they tossed him into a holding cell with a grisly piece of shit who looked strung out on meth or some other illicit drug and left him. Fortunately, the druggie was too high to pay him any attention. The last thing he needed was more trouble, and he would very much defend himself if this guy got a bee in his bonnet.

  Harrison took a seat on the bench and hung his head in his hands, still trying to quiet his rage. Even through the ride in the back of the black and white, with electricity still making him twitch, and after being booked and fingerprinted and photographed and everything else, there was still a sense of tunnel vision, rimmed in red. He couldn’t get the image of Skye, pinned under that fucker, out of his head. If he’d been any slower, or if he’d been anywhere else, he would have either beaten the shit of her or raped her. Maybe both. He was just as mad about the lack of response from others as he was about the fact that someone had tried to hurt her like that in the first place.

  He didn’t bother asking for his phone call. The Flames knew where to find him, if they wanted to front the money to bail him out. He’d gladly pay them back every dime. He kept a particular account ready, just for such a purpose. A biker never knew when he was going to jail, and in Harrison’s case, he had an unhealthy temper and tendency to drink that left him even more susceptible.

  Or, he would sit here and wait it out. It didn’t matter. The glance he’d gotten at Donny, the dickhead, Harrison wasn’t sure he was still breathing. The EMTs seemed a bit harried, but then again, he assumed they always were. But he also knew how violent he’d felt and had lost track of how many times he’d hit the sorry bastard, and he’d failed to stop long enough to check for a pulse. What was the point? He regretted it only because he figured he’d shown Skye just what a monster he could be. She would never look at him the same way. But when it came down to it, he felt completely justified in his actions. If the guy died, he deserved it. And Harrison would take the manslaughter charge because at least he’d rescued Skye from a shit load of trauma she didn’t need.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face, reliving what he could remember of the incident. He didn’t recall Donny taking a swing at him, but then, he didn’t think he’d given the guy a chance. He’d caught him before he could rearrange Skye’s beautiful face, which was already bleeding. That’s what has set him off most, he realized, the red blood turning his sight red.

  He had a brief impression of Skye scrambling away, but after that, most of it went blank. The pain in his knuckles was the only evidence he had that he’d actually done anything. And the blood on his clothes and staining his skin.

  He sighed. If he was going to go down for this, he should have done better. His imagination kicked into gear, and he smiled to himself, a grin he knew would have terrified most people, as he thought about what he should have done to the assailant.

  If he’d been able to keep his cool, something he desperately needed to work on, he would have handcuffed the man and dragged him to the back room, where he would have taken his dear, sweet time with torture. He would have pulled out his fingernails with a set of pliers, and then he would have skinned him alive, a piece at a time. And with each wound he opened, he would have poured salt and vinegar over it. Yes, that was how this man deserved to suffer. A quick death in the hospital would be a blessing for him.

  “Hey, biker boy!” Harrison looked up as a very unamused guard ambled toward the cell. “You got a call.”

  Harrison frowned but stood and went to the bars, holding out his hands for the cuffs. The guard took his time, escorting him slowly to the phone. He’d been through this before, and he’d never been allowed to receive a call. Then again, he’d usually made his call right away. He glanced at the guard as he picked up the receiver. “You have five minutes, that’s it,” the guard warned, backing away and taking a stance leaning against the wall behind him, scrolling over something on his cell phone.

  “Hello?” Harrison spoke into the phone, the old fashioned corded thing cumbersome.

  “Hey, boss,” Rocky’s voice came through, and Harrison was relieved. If Rocky was calling, it meant things had worked out okay. “I just wanted to let you know Skye is safe at home and tucked in. The strip club shut down for the night and most of the day tomorrow, so we can clean up from the riots. All the girls were safe and escorted to their cars.”

  “Thanks, Rock. You’re awesome.” He relaxed, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside the phone. “And the guy?”

  He heard Rocky snort on the other end of the line. “You mean the pulverized meat they loaded into the ambulance? He’ll live.” Rocky didn’t sound thrilled about that, and Harrison couldn’t blame him, despite the relief of knowing he wouldn’t get a murder rap. “He’s pretty broken, though. He’s going to need extensive surgery, but it looks like we’re all in agreement that we can foot the bill for his surgeries if he doesn’t file charges and never shows his ugly mug at the strip club again.”

  With that reassurance, Harrison sagged, overwhelmed with gratitude. He certainly wouldn’t ask for bail, not when they were going to funnel out six figures to save his sorry ass. “Alright, thanks, Rocky, and tell the guys I owe them big time. I’ll sit this out and see what happens in the morning.”

  “You do that, and we’ll see what we can do. Your arraignment should only be a couple of hours out.” Harrison hadn’t realized how late – or, rather, early – it was. “I’ll be there early in the afternoon, if you need me to help you out.”

  “Alright, brother. Take care, and get some rest. You deserve it.” Harrison hung up and turned to the guard, who looked put out at having to shove his phone in his pocket. Harrison smiled at him. “Hey, sorry you have to do your job. I didn’t ask to be here. But get me tucked in, and I promise you can go back to your Candy Crush saga.”

  The guard’s jaw worked, but then he smiled, something Harrison hadn’t expected. “Alright, cowboy, that was a good one. Watch your mouth, though. Next
shift, your babysitter doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

  “Duly noted,” Harrison replied as they started back toward the cell. He could see the light of dawn peering through the single small window at the top of the cell, and he took a deep breath. A couple of hours, and he’d know what it was going to cost to get out of this hovel, and he could get someone to help him get the hell out of Dodge.

  * * *

  Fifty grand was chump change, Harrison thought as he strode back into the holding cell. The judge hadn’t given two fucks and had slapped his wrist with that, knowing that the Devil’s Flames were the least of his concern. That judge had benefited from the Flames’ protection at several rallies and events he attended, and he’d given the smallest bail he could under the circumstances.

  Which meant Harrison only needed five grand to get out. He just needed to figure out who to call to get them to pony up the dough for the next few hours, until he could pull it from his own bank account.

  “You’re out.” Harrison gazed up, expecting someone to be coming for the half dead druggie, who was passed out on the bench and drooling. Instead, the guard who had just brought him in a few minutes ago – the one with no sense of humor – stood there, looking petulant and making eye contact with him. “Come on, loverboy. Let’s go. I’m not going to stand here all day.”

  Standing again, Harrison followed him, stopping in his tracks when he saw Skye standing there, waiting for him. What was she doing here? He wasn’t sure he liked this scenario. It seemed like she was always rescuing him from some situation.

  As if he couldn’t help it, he moved toward her quickly, his feet carrying him without his approval. He finally stopped, inches from her, not touching her, as he assessed her, looking at the damage. As far as he could tell, the corner of her mouth was bloody, her cheek slightly bruised, but that was it. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice breaking and betraying his emotions.

  She nodded curtly. “I’m fine. A little bruised, but nothing permanent. What about you? I saw the taser.”

  He shrugged. “It takes more than that to bring me down for good.” What else was he supposed to say? This was awkward. She shouldn’t be here, not after everything that had happened, and yet, he couldn’t tell her to leave. He could barely speak to her at all. It was painful, and some of that was the ache of regret and loss. But some of it…some of it was that lingering hope that just wouldn’t die.

  She quirked an eyebrow at him and folded her arms over her chest, though whether it was because she was cold, had an attitude, or felt as self conscious as he did, he had no clue. “Good to know. Are we getting out of here?”

  He nodded and turned to his surly escort. “My personal belongings?”

  The guard rolled his eyes. “On their way.”

  The ten minutes it took for his things to be brought out by a pimple faced runner stretched interminably between them, and Harrison wondered if Skye felt the tension, too. She didn’t try to make small talk, and again, he wondered why she’d bothered to bail him out. knowing what it cost her, he snatched his things and rushed out of the station, glancing at her as she followed him with a less than pleasant click of heels on pavement. “First stop is the bank,” he told her, sliding into her passenger seat.

  She glanced at him with a scowl. “I thought the Flames dealt in cash.”

  That stung. Either she still didn’t trust the MC or she was taking low blows. But he shook his head. “The strip club and our security business are both legitimate. We get paid on a regular basis. Now, I want to pay you back right away, but I don’t carry five grand in cash on me, so if you don’t mind, pull into the nearest Wells Fargo so I can go in and take care of business.”

  “Sure thing, cowboy,” she muttered as she put the car in gear and squealed out of the parking lot.

  16

  Skye tapped her nails on the steering wheel impatiently while she waited. Harrison seemed to have been in the bank forever already. It was busy, the parking lot was full, and he was withdrawing a large sum. What did she expect? But it was still annoying.

  She was livid, but not at Harrison. In fact, she needed to thank him for helping her. Saving her, really. Donny might have gotten his way had Harrison not stepped in. And honestly, while the loss of business would sting, it wasn’t like that bastard had been in for a while, and she’d done fine without him. And she didn’t particularly want to see him again anyway.

  She hadn’t been prepared for the blood and carnage, though. And it haunted her. The images in her mind. Part of her knew Donny deserved what he got, and that devilish part of her wished she’d been the one to give it to him. On the other hand, the confirmation of what Harrison was capable of terrified her.

  And, admittedly, turned her on.

  That’s part of what angered her, the fact that she found that raw, violent power arousing. More, though, she hated that she’d been so petty as to put herself in danger and had been unable to take care of herself. Absolutely livid about that, she wished she could have saved herself, could have thrown Donny off or even stopped him from grabbing her to start with. Or that she’d at least had the sense to stay within Harrison’s line of sight. She’d acted like a petulant child, and look at the disaster that followed.

  He probably blamed her for everything, and that would definitely explain his reaction, his quiet surliness, and his almost awkwardness around her. He seemed on the verge of thanking her several times, but then, he would turn away and clamp his mouth shut. She’d wanted to tell him how she felt before all of this started, but she’d chosen Donny and money over truth. It was a terrible choice, and she regretted it, but there was no going back. At the same time, she obviously couldn’t say anything now. She doubted he’d believe her or care.

  And unfortunately, waiting for him now only gave her anger time to boil into a furious ball of fire, waiting to get out. She didn’t know how she was going to handle him when he came back out. She really didn’t want to go off at him, but she didn’t know if she could hold this in any longer. Just as she was considering jumping out of the car and going in after him, Harrison strode out of the bank as if he hadn’t spent the night in jail with another man’s blood on his hands. That swagger never ceased to get her blood pumping hot and thick in her veins, and she cleared her throat as if it would ease the fever flowing through her.

  He needed a shower, but Skye didn’t want to suggest it. Besides, just the thought of him naked and wet made her so damn eager to jump him she thought saying it out loud might just be the breaking point, and she’d end up all over him right here, in Suburbia in broad daylight.

  Instead, she glanced at him as she pulled out of the parking spot. “So, where to, champ?”

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  It was such an innocuous question, Skye nearly burst out laughing. The tension was so high, she wanted to say no and carry him off to the Devil’s Flames clubhouse. Or back to the strip club, where his bike still sat. But her body betrayed her, her stomach growling loudly at the proposition of food. “I haven’t eaten since about five in the evening yesterday,” she admitted, only just realizing it had been that long.

  “You fly, and I’ll buy,” he grated out. he really was being a bit antisocial, even though he seemed like he wanted to spend time with her. Was it just gratitude? Did he feel he owed her for bailing him out?

  That certainly hadn’t been the reason she’d gone after him.

  With a sigh, she shrugged. “Fine by me. But know that I’m getting a huge stack of pancakes and probably an omelet. Maybe some hash browns and bacon.”

  “Whatever you want,” he told her rubbing his chin and staring out the window.

  That was it. He flipped the last switch with that one, and all the anger and fear and anxiety balled up and launched itself out her mouth. And unfortunately, Harrison was the only target around. “You know, I’m sick of your attitude today, Harrison. I come and bail you out, despite the fact that you nearly killed a client. Do you realize he has to have mul
tiple reconstructive surgeries on his face? You rearranged it pretty good, and that kind of violence is hard to overlook.” She didn’t mean to scream or sound accusatory, but she couldn’t stop the rampage. “How many times are you going to beat the living hell out of one of my clients?”

  Harrison stared at her, his jaw locked tight, his eyes wide and expressive, and his breath coming a little quicker. It was the first time he’d seemed truly responsive since she’d walked into the jailhouse. A place she’d never wanted to see again, considering how often she’d had to bail her ex out in New York.

  Finally, he spoke in a low, gruff voice that sounded overwrought with emotion. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m sure I came off as a monster, and for that, I apologize. I never wanted you to think of me that way. But I won’t apologize for saving you from that creep. That son of a bitch would have traumatized you for the rest of your life, and based on the swelling on your face, he already did a pretty bang up job of trying to beat you into submission. If I could go back, I’d give myself another thirty seconds to make sure I punctured a lung or stopped him from breathing entirely. Because I might not get to smash a guy’s face for having his hands on you and tipping you, but I will not fucking tolerate anyone hurting you.”

  He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here’s the money for bail.”

  She took it from him, speechless. He sounded so adamant about the whole thing, and for the first time, she wanted to tell him that she didn’t see him as a monster, not at this point. She wanted to tell him how the sight of him leaping to her rescue and wailing on Donny made her tingle all over, her heart flutter, and her nether regions tighten with need.