I look up to him, my eyes wide. “You knew?”
He grins. “I knew. Keys told me about a month ago,” he admits.
“You kept it from me,” I point out.
His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Not really. I just omitted it. I wanted to wait until it was official, just in case they changed their minds.”
I bite the corner of my lip, searching his gaze. “They think I’m strong. That’s why they named her after me, because they want her to be as strong as I am. Why would they even think that?”
Tanner wraps his hand around the back of my head, his fingers lacing through the strands of hair, and he tugs my head back, causing my neck to arch. “Listen to me, Roxanne,” he grinds out. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You are gorgeous, sexy, vibrant, and strong as fucking steel. Don’t you ever question that shit again, do you get me?”
Wetness fills my eyes, not because he’s hurting me, but because he’s filling me up. He always lifts me up, and here he is again. I love this man. Love him with everything that I am. I’m only strong because he has my back. I am only capable of living a decent free life, because he guides me, holds my hand, and catches me every fucking time that I fall.
I don’t tell him any of that. I can’t. The words are gone. All I can do is lift to my toes and press my lips against his. I kiss him, expressing everything that I can in this moment. The room melts away, the other people disappear, just as they always do when any part of Tanner touches any part of me.
Slowly, he breaks the kiss. “Love you, Firefly,” he breathes.
I close my eyes, I love him too, more than he’ll ever know. I love every piece of him. Most of all, I love the way that he loves me. Tanner Bryant is the whole package for a woman like me—for any woman, really. I’m just thankful that he’s chosen to be my rock.
Spiked with Desire: Notorious Devils
A CASH BAR SERIES SHORT STORY
CHAPTER ONE
JULIET
I watch them leave the store and let out a sigh of relief. Every time I see a leather jacket filled with patches, I’m ripped back to that night five years ago. It’s like that night plays on a constant loop over and over inside of my head. A movie reel of what happened. It’s been five years, when will the nightmare end?
“You okay?” my boss, Shandra, asks.
With a jerk, I turn away from the door and give her my best fake smile. “I am. They’re going to be back. He’s going to bring his wife with him.”
She smiles. I can see the dollar signs in her eyes at the thought of more sales to this group. This is the fifth couple that’s been in here in the past year. All of them outfitting entire homes. Though they keep me in job security, and they always seem to gravitate toward me, so my commissions have been great.
However, they scare the absolute shit out of me.
“Good, you’ll stay late and close up tonight, won’t you? I need to head out,” she says, sounding and looking distracted.
It’s fairly common for Shandra to take off early, in fact, I close up alone more nights than not. I don’t tell her that I’m not comfortable staying late tonight, especially not if those bikers come back. Instead, I smile widely and nod.
“Have a good night,” I offer.
She grins, giving me a small wave and less than five minutes later, she’s out the door and I’m alone. Deciding to keep busy, I grab the furniture polish and a rag. Manual labor is the only thing that keeps the dark memories at bay when they come back like this. However, today it doesn’t seem to be working.
I flinch as I’m bent over a nine-piece dining room table polishing. Thoughts of the man who hurt me flash in my head. His name was Rabbit, or that was his road name. His real name was Jackson. I was young and dumb. I saw him and his leather, he was beautiful, and I was immediately enamored by all that was him.
Lost in my own head, I continue to clean, unable to stop the memories. I’d disobeyed him. I was eighteen, self-confident, strong-willed, and independent. I was nothing like I am now, no, he made sure that I would never feel that way again. I would never defy him again.
The bell above the store’s door jingles, which thankfully takes me out of my dark thoughts before they get too bad. Straightening, I smile and turn toward the new customers. My breath hitches, it’s lodged in my throat at the sight in front of me.
Two men and a woman. But I don’t notice one of the men, or the woman. All I can see is the ice blue eyes that stare back at me. He’s beautiful. If I thought that Rabbit was the most beautiful man on earth, I was wrong, so wrong. This man is beyond that. He’s breathtaking.
DICE
The last thing I wanted to do today was to look at furniture, but when Roxie asked me to join them, I couldn’t turn her down. Six months ago, I saved her life, she also saved mine at the same time. She gave me back my Notorious Devils family.
I’d been a nomad for the past seven years, never able to settle down, too lost in my own fucking head of fucked up shit. I was one of the men whose woman was taken by the Aryans. Except Clara was never found and returned to me like so many of the women who have been lost. She’s most likely dead. I try not to think about the possibilities, the circumstances of her life and death. It’s too goddamn painful.
With a yawn, I follow Houston and Roxanne into the little store. It smells like furniture polish and flowers. Taking my glasses off, I shove them in the back of my shirt, then lift my gaze to scan the room.
My breath is stolen, completely fucking gone as her big green eyes widen. Her chest rises and falls, her body tense and stiff.
“C-can I help you?” she asks through trembling lips.
We walk toward her. I watch as her stiff body begins to lightly tremor. She’s scared shitless. Frowning, I hate that for her. She shouldn’t be scared, not with us, not with me. My body jerks at that thought. Why do I give a fuck if she’s scared of me or not? I haven’t given a fuck about a woman, other than Roxanne, since Clara, and what I feel for Roxanne is completely platonic.
There is nothing platonic about the urges that immediately flow through me at the sight of this girl. She’s probably ten years younger than me, maybe more, but fuck I don’t give a goddamn shit. I want in that hot little body, the sooner, the better.
“Yeah, we’re moving into a new house and we need to furnish it, I hear this is the best place around,” Roxanne announces speaking up and taking a few steps toward her.
The girl’s eyes flick from me to Houston, then to Roxanne. She inhales a deep breath, then nods once. She asks Roxanne about styles and they start talking about modern farmhouse shit, shabby something or another, and I tune them completely out.
Like a fucking creeper, I watch the girl talk, watch her lips move and wonder what they would feel like wrapped around my dick. She’s wearing a loose pair of nice pants and an oversized shirt, hiding her body beneath her clothes. I bet she’s hiding a great body under them, too.
“Dice, can you help load up a couple things?” Roxanne asks, breaking me out of my lust-haze.
Clearing my throat, I shift my gaze from the nameless girl and look over at Roxanne. “You getting shit today?” I ask.
“A couple floor models. I’m going to order the rest,” she explains.
“Yeah I’ll help, just tell me what you want me to load up.”
Roxanne gives me her big, happy smile and I shake my head. Me and Houston load up the shit she points to. Now I know why she wanted me to bring my pickup truck. We fill Houston’s and mine, full of shit. We’re still going to have to make at least one more trip, maybe two to get it all.
“I’ll be back in a few,” I announce, but I don’t look at Roxie, my eyes are focused on the girl. Is it a warning or a promise? I’m not sure, all I know is that I’m coming back, and it isn’t just for furniture.
CHAPTER TWO
JULIET
The men leave, and only then do I let out a sigh of relief. Though, they will be back. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for them to make t
heir way back here. It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. They aren’t Rabbit, they aren’t even part of his club. It’s just those leather jackets, those patches, I know what they all mean, and I know what the men wearing them are capable of doing and inflicting.
“They won’t hurt you, Juliet,” Roxanne announces.
My head jerks at her words, and my gaze finds hers. She’s watching me, waiting for me to respond. I’m not sure what to say, really. She watches me, and for a woman I’ve just met, she sees too much.
“Okay,” I nod.
Her hand wraps around my wrist and she gently squeezes. “They won’t hurt you, but someone did, right?”
I shake my head, not wishing to answer her. Pressing my lips together, I refuse to speak, not about that—never about that. She must sense that she isn’t going to drag any information out of me because she doesn’t push further.
We spend the next forty-five minutes placing orders for items that we don’t have in stock or carry floor models of. Thankfully, no other words are exchanged about my fears or my past. I’m glad for it, ecstatic even. I’m already going to have a terrible night of sleep. I know that I won’t be able to shake Rabbit’s memory, at least not today.
The door opens and the men appear again. I watch as they load up the remainder of the floor models that Roxanne bought. Well, I watch the man with the pretty blue eyes, at least. He’s sexy, and I hate myself for thinking that, but he is.
“He’s single,” Roxanne whispers when they walk out with the last bit of furniture.
Pressing my lips together, I shrug. “Good for him.”
She laughs softly, her hand finding mine and flexing against my fingers. “He’s nice, too. Really nice. I consider him one of my best friends,” she admits.
I almost snort. Nice. Nice. I thought Rabbit was nice, dangerous and nice. I was only half right, he was dangerous but nice he definitely was not. I doubt this man is either. Maybe to her, maybe to the woman of his friend. But to anyone else? No.
Instead of smart mouthing her, I keep my lips pressed together. When they come back inside, her hand leaves mine and she tells me goodbye. “I’ll hear from you when the stuff comes in?” she asks as she curls against her man’s side.
“I’ll schedule a delivery date with you when the items are on their way to the shop,” I smile.
Her eyes roam mine and she lifts her chin before waving her fingers toward me. The two of them leave, but the other man doesn’t make a move. He watches me, much like an alpha animal watches its prey. I hate it and love it, all at the same time.
“May I help you?” I ask, my voice meek and weak, I hate it.
He tilts his head to the side, watching me, but not speaking. “I’m Nick.”
“Juliet,” I say, dipping my chin to hide the pink on my cheeks. I should not be blushing. I should be kicking him out and running far away.
“See ya around,” he offers.
Lifting my head, I watch him walk out of the store, climb up in his pickup and drive away.
My stomach sinks at the sight of him leaving me. It shouldn’t, and yet, that’s exactly what it does. I’m somehow disappointed that he didn’t ask me out. I would have turned him down, but he seemed at least a little interested. Shaking my head, I admonish myself.
“Stupid girl,” I whisper. “You’ll never learn.”
Finishing my polishing, I close down the store, walk into the empty parking lot before climbing into my car, then I drive home to my empty house. Alone. Always alone. I like it that way, at least that’s what I tell myself. It’s safer to be alone, than to be with someone who is bad.
DICE
“She was totally into you,” Roxanne sings as I finish helping Houston unload their new shit.
I snort. “That bitch was scared of her own shadow,” I announce.
Roxanne shakes her head. “She wasn’t just scared, Dice. That girl is terrified. Something happened to her,” she says.
My brows furrow, but I don’t tell her that I thought the same thing. That girl has suffered something traumatic. The fear in her eyes, I saw it in every single woman’s gaze on that fucked up compound a few months ago. I saw it in Roxanne. I just don’t know if this girl is as strong as Roxie. She looks pretty fucking fragile.
“Babe, I know. I’m not so sure she’s savable, and in case you haven’t noticed. I’m not a fucking knight.”
Roxanne shakes her head, her eyes narrow and swear to fuck if she could spit venom at me, I think the bitch just might.
“Every woman is savable. Juliet is too. Don’t you dare write her off as a lost cause. I thought you had a thing for her, she sure as hell was giving you the dreamy eye. If you don’t want to put forth any effort on a nice girl, then, by all means, stay with those whores at the club.”
“Firefly,” Houston’s voice rumbles through the room.
Roxanne holds her hands up in surrender. “I’m done. That’s all I had to say, I’m done,” she repeats, then walks away.
My eyes follow her path for a moment, then shift over to Houston. “What?” I ask. He’s watching me, his lips pressed into a pissed off straight line.
“Just thinking,” he shrugs. I don’t respond, I wait him out, he has something to say and he’ll say it eventually. “You don’t fuck the whores like it’s something you’re into.”
“You ain’t playing psychiatrist on me, brother,” I state.
He chuckles. “I got enough shit on my own plate to take you on too, Dice. I’m just sayin’. Might be good to have a sweet girl in your bed. You been on the road for a long time, you’re settled here in our club, may be good to settle completely down.”
I don’t tell him that I want that, I’ve always wanted that. Being a husband and a father, along with a brother, have been my only ambitions in life. I was brought up in the club, saw the men raise families and I knew that I wanted no other life for myself. I had my own girl once and she was taken from me, so was that dream of the perfect life.
“Maybe,” I say noncommittally.
I leave them to their new house, their new shit, and their happiness. I leave them, switch out my truck for my bike and go for a ride without a destination in mind. That is how I end up at the furniture store, that’s how I end up following the little girl home. That’s how I end up watching her like a fucking stalker from across the street of her small home.
CHAPTER THREE
JULIET
I skip dinner and head to bed early. My body is completely shot. I’m shaky, my head is pounding, and I know that the only thing that I can hope for is a few hours of sleep to help shake the way I’m feeling. Though, I probably won’t even get that much before the dark thoughts seep through my dreams. Rabbit will always be with me until the day that I die, abusing me over and over again.
Layering on as many things as I can possibly stand, I pull on sleep shorts, sweatpants, then a tank top, t-shirt, and a sweatshirt before I wrap myself in two blankets. It’s the only way that I can feel semi-safe. Cocooned in weighted fabrics, like the safety of another person holding me.
It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep. However, just as suspected, thoughts of Rabbit, of that night, fill my dreams. It’s so real, so incredibly real. I’m screaming and fighting, just like I did that night. Until I feel two hands gripping my shoulders.
That’s new.
“Juliet,” a strange voice growls.
My eyes slowly open and I’m met with an ice blue gaze. I open my mouth to scream again, realizing that I’m no longer in my dream. This is reality and there is a man in my bedroom. His eyes widen, his hand leaves my shoulder and is placed over my mouth.
“Quiet,” he growls. “It’s me, Nick, from earlier,” he explains.
I’m breathing out of my nose, my eyes frantically searching his wondering if I’m going to have to live my nightmare again, except with a different man this time. He curses, his grip loosening on my shoulder, but not releasing.
“I’m not going to hurt you, baby,” he mur
murs. “If I let you go, you promise not to scream? I’ll explain.” His voice is smooth, calm, and if I wasn’t scared completely shitless, I would admit that it’s sexy too.
He releases my mouth, still holding his hand near my mouth in case he needs to cover me again quickly. I’m not going to scream, I’m not going to fight. I know that doing those things only makes everything ten times worse. I’m a girl who learns from her shit experiences if nothing else.
“I heard you screaming, I thought someone was hurting you,” he says, sitting back on the bed, draping his legs over the edge.
I watch him, wondering when he’s just going to get this over with. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want him to play games. I just want it done, that way I can try to cope with the misery that is my existence.
“A nightmare?” he asks. I continue to watch him, afraid to even speak. “You can talk to me, Juliet. Christ, you probably think I’m some kind of psycho,” he rambles.
I press my lips together as I sit up a bit. “How were you close enough to hear me?” I chance asking.
He turns toward me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Went for a ride, ended up at the furniture store as you were leaving. Don’t know why I followed you home. Then I just sat across the street on my bike. Mostly, I was thinking, then I heard you screamin’ the house down,” he admits.
The way he explains it, everything sounds so harmless. But he’s here, in my house, he followed me home. That is not harmless.
“What were you thinking about?”
His eyes darken a shade, I think he’s going to get started on whatever he’s here to dish out to me, but instead, he sighs. “The past, baby. The fucking past, it’s a bitch, you know?”
Twisted with Chaos: A CASH BAR NOVEL Page 25
