Puck

by Marata Eros

  And the other female too. Fucking hate that.

  Kendra.

  I’m still going by her place. Incognito now. I never go by at the same time each day.

  Random works for a lot of reasons.

  The threat is long-passed. Alexander is dead, his organization metaphorically beheaded. No new threats have entered Road Kill territory for the moment.

  This is the first break we’ve had. What with rebuilding the clubhouse—all hands on fucking deck for that one—and getting enough bodies in to fill the ranks of the dead prospects, it’s been a grueling two months.

  At least Puck and I have buried the hatchet. Getting Temp’s friend out of that mess went a long way.

  Now Temp’s filled with his baby, and they’re getting hitched.

  Seems like all the men are.

  That’s not for me. Don’t want property. A woman. Responsibility.

  So why am I guarding Kendra?

  My mind gives me uneasy silence instead of the quick answer I wanted.

  Fuck it.

  I rev the engine of the bike and speed through the back roads of Kent, heading toward Fairwood, hoping to clear the sewage of my brain.

  Kendra

  Wow. Bikes litter the entire parking area outside of Viper’s house.

  Turning my head, I see soft lights shining through what will be Temp’s permanent house in a week. Puck’s vintage farmhouse sits on a knoll. All white with dark trim, it glows softly in the twilight.

  Shivering, I bend down and snag a lightweight screaming-pink puffy coat from the back. Checking my cell, I see the temperature stands at forty-eight degrees. October’s teased us, saying summer, when really, it’s autumn.

  But today, it was seventy-two. I know because I had a glass of wine after I was done coding at almost three o’clock. My thermometer had read those unbelievable numbers.

  Right now, that seems impossible. The sky is clear, full of stars sprinkled over an oncoming navy terrain, but that also means cool temps without cloud cover to insulate.

  I don’t want to hide my cute top, a solid, coolish lavender, picking up one of the colors on my wild print leggings. I tuck the coat under my arm and adjust the tight, semi-tunic-length top.

  This is really the first time I’ve been at a huge gathering with a lot of people since the traumatic shit happened, and I’m kind of nervous.

  I shouldn’t be. Puck and Temp will be there. It’ll be fine. I’m just a little weird since the thing happened. Things.

  And what if Storm is here?

  He might think I’m a bitch or blow me off. So really, I sort of picked the outfit so I could look cute. I wore my thick, wavy hair down, curled the ends. Made up my face. After putting in that much effort, I can’t pretend I’m indifferent. And, man, has Storm seen me at my worst.

  With a sigh, I begin walking toward Viper’s place. Candi happens to be on the front porch.

  A baby, clearly just learning how to walk, toddles toward me.

  He’s so cute. A shock of red hair stands straight up on his head, but his eyes are all the dad’s.

  I sink to my haunches, and he runs into my arms, squawking something I can’t understand.

  “Hey, Candi,” I say.

  “Hi, Kendra! So glad you came.”

  So much are in those words, and I hear it all. But instead of breaking down and crying over the knowledge and empathy I hear there, I ask, “What’s he saying?”

  She laughs from her belly. “Um... that’s his version of hello.”

  “He’s adorable,” I say, meaning it.

  “Yeah, we kind of like him,” a deep voice says from behind her, and I see Viper, making Candi look small, though maybe he’s five foot eleven.

  The image of the two of them makes me think of Storm and how he’s got me by almost a foot. I swallow hard then scoop up the squirming toddler.

  He about knocks me over.

  “Watch it!” Candi laughs. “He weighs almost as much as you.”

  They mean it good-naturedly, of course. But I’m sensitive about my weight. I was thin before.

  I’m thinner now.

  But I’ve been trying to gain weight.

  Well, I guess not enough. Today, all I could get down was peanut butter toast then my regular cheese and wine after I was done with work.

  That’s probably not going to cut it for a weight-gain program. Tough to eat with everything. Just everything.

  “Here, let me take him, Kendra,” Viper says, gently disentangling him from me.

  “Thanks.” I look at Candi. “You must be strong as an ox.”

  She nods. “Feels that way sometimes. He’s such a little swine.” She makes an oink-oink noise, and Viper smiles as he passes her and Gabe takes a swipe at his mom’s nose with a chubby arm, obviously pleased with himself.

  “Come on. Puck and Temp are already inside.”

  I walk to her side, and she looks up at me in my high heels. “You look beautiful, Kendra.”

  I feel myself blushing. “Ah, thanks. I made an effort. Feels good.”

  Candi winks. “I can tell.”

  With a little more confidence than when I arrived, I follow her inside.

  Storm

  Must have a thing for VW, I think, scoping out Kendra’s ride.

  My heart sinks. I was wanting to see her and dreading it.

  Fuck it.

  I’m not scared of a bitch.

  Rolling up right next to her small VW beetle, I hit the kickstand and ease the weight of my bike onto the small metal stand.

  I stare at her car. There’s a tie-dye steering wheel cover, and two or three crystals dangling from the rearview mirror.

  A smile plays on my lips. What the fuck hippy shit is that? But somehow, it fits Kendra. Sort of a free spirit, natural type.

  My smile fades. She was, anyway.

  Heard she’s seeing that shrink that Puck went to, the same one Rose is visiting.

  Probably good for her to talk... to somebody. Hell, I’m not up for the job.

  Best I can do is make sure there’s nobody skulking around, trying to fuck her up again.

  Not having that. My blood boils just thinking about the possibility.

  Actually, my blood’s always kind of boiling. With a snort at that small insight, I saunter up to Viper’s place.

  Looks like Coney Island, lit up like a strobe. All the brothersʼ rides are neatly stacked outside the front. Not as many as I would like to see, but enough to give me a small case of the feels.

  Taking in the outside, I appreciate the architecture for a second. Low and wide, the ranch-style modern has a low-pitched roof and lots of glass around the front.

  Having been here before, I know that around the back of the house is a kick-ass basement walkout that looks right over the valley with a solid view of Rainer dead center.

  I look at the front door last and suck in a sharp inhale. Letting out the exhale, I feel like a deflated balloon. Okay, I’m stalling.

  I stride down the five-foot-wide pebbled cement walkway and open the screen door. The solid-wood interior door glides open, and a wall of noise hits me.

  Always the ex-fed, I scan the interior, give a small smile to Trainer, who’ve I not seen much of lately and a nod to his bitch. What’s her name? Oh yeah, Krista. My eyes move on.

  I don’t see Kendra. My shoulders ease. Good.

  No bad.

  Where the fuck is she if her car’s here?

  Hmmm.

  My eyes come to a screeching halt. Some tall guy stands by the big slider leading out to a huge deck where half the brothers stand, nursing beers while their women fuss around in the kitchen.

  His right arm is raised over his head, forearm propped on the doorframe. He’s got really dark kinky hair tied at the back of his head. He’s built and vaguely familiar, though I can’t place him.

  A sliver of female leg is visible behind his body. Bright pants. Slender ankle and foot.

  The dude shifts his weight, dropping his arm, revea
ling Kendra.

  Her eyes catch mine. Capture them.

  Kendra’s lips part, and I’m frozen there. Then a dainty hand rises, fluttering a wave with small fingers.

  I gulp.

  Why did I come?

  I don’t move. Don’t wave back. Don’t acknowledge.

  Her hand stills then drops.

  A breath I was holding eases out of me. I don’t want to give a bitch some kind of signal.

  Then the guy turns, probably looking to see who she was waving at.

  Perry. That’s the guy. He’s undercover, former cop partner of Puck.

  His eyes sweep over me dismissively and return with prompt attention to Kendra.

  Her hurt gaze moves from me then back to him.

  Well, fuck me.

  Just at that moment, Puck walks up with two beers.

  Great.

  Kendra

  I can’t believe I’m having an actual interchange with Perry. And he’s not a complete asshole.

  He’s even made me distracted from my anxiety over whether Storm will show up or not.

  Which is stupid, I know.

  But whatever the mind thinks and the heart feels, the two are arguing masters of the soul.

  “I’m sorry.” I give a giggle. “I’m afraid I’ve already had too much to drink.” Which is insanely true. Rose and Temp both brought that black box in the red blend, and I was toast.

  Perry frowns. “I can get you something to eat.”

  “Are you saying I’m skinny?” I ask, verging on defensive.

  His eyes move over me. Twice.

  I blush.

  “No, I’m not saying that at all. You’re slender.” His eyes are so dark, they rival Storm’s.

  I guess I’m still thinking about him. But Perry’s not some stand in. He’s all-male.

  Why did I think he was an asshole? I can’t remember now. Not with him looking at me like that.

  “I’d say you’re elegant.”

  The moment is heavy, then he says the perfect thing. “Don’t lose any more weight, though,” Perry admonishes in a light tone. “I’ll have to food funnel ya.”

  I bark out an unladylike laugh and catch Temp slinging a smile my way.

  Haven’t had a real laugh in a long time.

  “Listen,” Perry says, taking my icy fingers into his warm grip. “I’ll be right back with sustenance.”

  I let him. “Okay.”

  He walks away, and I admire him. Great ass. Broad shoulders. Wild hair he clearly has to beat into submission, loaded into a black hairband that matches the color—also black.

  Perry loads a plate of food and returns.

  His eyes meet mine, and I silently take the plate from him and nibble on cheese, crackers, and grapes.

  My mind breathes a sigh, and I begin to enjoy the male attention.

  I forget about Storm for the first time in two months.

  Until Perry shifts his position and those bright hazel eyes imprison me in a stare so intense, it dims the light around me.

  Chapter 35

  Kendra

  Perry says something, and I utterly miss it. I give a little wave to Storm. Friendly and unassuming. Just a gesture that says, “Hi, how are ya?”

  He just stares holes through me. His big body doesn’t move a muscle.

  I drop my hand, feeling like an idiot.

  He’s obviously not into me, and not even giving a shit.

  Perry has turned to see who I was looking at then turns around again. “That the guy who got you out of the Chaos hellhole?” he asks quietly.

  “Huh?” I say then shake myself, setting down my empty plate beside the slider where a small table is nestled in a corner. “Yeah, Storm helped me,” I admit in a hushed voice, grabbing my wine glass. I gulp the entire thing then smile at Perry, who looks vaguely alarmed. “How about another glass.”

  “Sure,” he says slowly, cocking an inky brow, “but I thought you said you had too much to drink.”

  I give him a sharp look, stepping into his body. Tight. Close. “Get me another drink,” I command like my former queen-ness.

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “There she is,” Perry says softly, and his hand snakes around, palm to the small of my back, pressing my body into his for just a moment then releasing. “Your wish is my command.”

  “It better be,” I warn with mock sternness. I don’t mean it. Just felt like myself for a minute there.

  Felt sublime.

  He tips his chin and walks off.

  Nice, Kendra. Well-played. And just like that, I feel a little better. Maybe coming to this soiree wasn’t too bad.

  I remember Storm’s burning stare and look around me, and Storm is nowhere.

  His absence should be good. He obviously isn’t into me, I think for the second time. Running my hands down my top, I subtly adjust it, straightening the low neckline.

  Perry shows up as soon as I’m finished with my girl jiggling and hands me a vat pour.

  “Holy shit, now that’s a pour!” I give a little whoop and fist pump, and a few heads turn, smiles on their faces.

  “Want to get some fresh air?” Perry asks.

  I nod. “That’d be great.”

  Storm can suck a lemon. Dick.

  Perry takes me by my elbow and the room sort of trembles. Whoa on that wine.

  Then I have another sip.

  Storm

  I survey them from a covert position, completely and undeniably aware that I’m firmly in stalker territory.

  I see Kendra every day, though she’s unaware I’m committing secret surveillance on a bitch I don’t want.

  I’m the biggest self-deluder known to mankind.

  Yup. What a douche.

  I pull down the rest of my third beer and stew in the shadows of Viper’s house.

  Then Perry leans over Kendra, and she rises on her tiptoes, delicate hand leaning on his chest for balance as he whispers something in her ear.

  Instantly, I want to kill him and fuck her.

  Wow, I’m so gone.

  Gone are my brains and self-possession. Gone is my iron will.

  He leads her outside, and I’m not aware that I’ve moved until Noose’s hand clotheslines my chest. “Hey there, Storm.”

  I turn, a snarl on my face.

  Noose grins. “Whatcha doinʼ, bro?”

  Well, I’m... I’m—fuck if I know. “I don’t know,” I answer aloud.

  Noose’s golden brow hikes, and he lifts the neck of his beer, tilting the dark bottle top toward me. “I think you know perfectly. You’re looking like a man who’s on the edge of some ass kicking.”

  He’s right. I want to feel Perry’s face break underneath my fist. And I want in Kendra tonight.

  Noose sees it all. He’s smart beneath the tough exterior. His gray eyes are steady on my face.

  “You want Kendra.”

  “I don’t need any bitch,” I growl.

  He nods. “I know that.”

  My surprise might be plain on my face, because he chuckles, finishing off his beer and setting the empty on a table for a prospect to grab. “Need and want aren’t the same things, my brother. You don’t need anyone.”

  “Yeah,” I say slowly, understanding full well that I’m walking into shit.

  “But you want Kendra. Like I told Puck about Temp, if you want a woman permanently impaled on your dick, it’s over.”

  Do I want Kendra permanently impaled on my dick?

  Well I’ve got a hardon thinking about it.

  So there’s my answer.

  Noose’s smile broadens. “Just fucking talk to her, asshole. She’s talking her pretty head off to Perry, and he’s an undercover cop. And if that doesn’t go anywhere, she might see fit to be with one of the other brothers.”

  That makes my eyes cross. Seizing Noose by the cut, I drag him in close. “Are there brothers talking about tapping Kendra?” I whisper in a hoarse shout.

  Noose is completely unruffled. “Nope. They know she’
s yours.”

  I release him with a retreating stagger step. “I never—I haven’t thrown down for any bitch.”

  Noose spreads his arms wide. “Yup. So true, but ya know what they say”—his arms drop and he steps into my grill, looking like he could knot me—“actions speak louder than words, bro. And yours are screaming.”

  I back away from Noose and his truths.

  His hand lifts and he opens, and closes his fingers, miming someone who’s yakking to death.

  I know what he’s saying. Hate him for it.

  Turning on my heel, I stalk off in the direction that Perry took Kendra.

  He’s not having her. No brother is.

  I am. I’m having her.

  Kendra

  Oh. My. God. Does this feel good.

  Perry’s got me pushed up against the side of the house, peppering little kisses between my earlobe and collarbone. My breaths are coming hard and fast.

  I haven’t been with a man in so long.

  I push the attack from that fucker away—not a trigger in sight. Right now, I’m in Perry’s arms, mildly drunk with my empty wine glass on the ground at my feet.

  With a little shove, his hard-on goes between my legs, and I groan at the contact, inhibitions notched way down.

  “God you’re hot,” he says, big hands running down my sides but not touching me in the wrong way, respectful, even with lust riding us full-on.

  His lips land on my mouth, and I tilt my head, giving him better access. He groans.

  Perry smells like soap and man, and I wrap my arms around his neck. Somehow, we get tangled, and I stumble a little. With a laugh, he turns me. My back to his front as he winds an arm around my chest, trapping me against his body—exactly like the man did in Temp’s apartment that night two months ago.

  I had a key, and I went to her place and unlocked the door. When I turned to latch the bolt, he was on me, wrapping me against him like a python, grabbing my breasts and squeezing them painfully.

  Perry doesn’t do anything painful, but I find I can’t think straight. I start squirming, remembering—forgetting the man who’s with me in the moment. This man, right now, takes my squirming for arousal, and his hands pin my breasts.

  I scream without thinking.