I concoct a story in my head if they approach the RV, but no one ever does.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Reno—
I find a few candles in a drawer, so we have some light tonight.
I spend the evening cleaning, reloading my Glock 19, and filling my vest with ammo.
When I finish, I watch Kara brush her long hair until it shines like satin. I like to see her do this… and to put my hands in the heavy silk mass afterward. Tonight she braids it.
We get in bed together, as usual, and I hold her close, feeling somewhat more nervous than I like. I don’t make love to her. I’m tired, and perhaps more thrown by her earlier confession than I want to admit.
She burrows into me and seems content just to be held. Before long she wants to talk. For some stupid reason, I feel compelled to give her that.
Kara—
Reno and I huddle together in the bed, trying to keep warm. I ask him about his childhood, and this time, surprisingly, he talks.
He tells me how he left his father’s house for good after a fight when he was seventeen.
“A man my age complaining about how his father misunderstood him. Stupid. I knew the last time that if he ever laid a hand on me again, I’d hit him back—most likely wouldn’t stop until I killed him. So I left. Besides, I was ready to blow that town, anyway. There was nothing there for me.”
“Where’d you go?”
“I headed to Georgia. Joined the MC.”
I tried to imagine him at seventeen or eighteen. While he was doing that, I would have been seven or eight years old, just a pigtailed third-grader.
“I worked in the MC’s strip club, washing dishes, sweeping floors. The food was good. I had a cot in the back.”
I smile. “I bet you learned a lot about women.”
“The only thing I learned about women is there’s no understanding them, and there’s no trusting them.”
My smile fades. I hate how cynical he sounds sometimes. “How long did you work at the strip club?”
“Three years.”
“Did you have a… girl there?”
“I was still a dumb green kid to them. I had no patch. But there was one girl—one of the dancers. I won’t say it was love, but I was infatuated. I guess I had stupid adolescent visions of saving her from a life of misery or some shit. I thought I was the only one she saw outside of work, until I caught her in a backroom giving some guy way more than a lap dance. Seems she’d been seeing him all along. He was a high roller, an old guy, loaded. It was a total Anna Nicole Smith and J Howard Marshall kind of deal.”
“Eeww.”
“Yeah.”
“Then what?”
“Then I turned twenty-one and got to be a prospect. Rusty was my sponsor. He’d already been in the club five years by then.”
“Oh.” I’ve learned plenty from his words. One, he refused to accept that his father loved him, and two, he took all his notions of women from some stripper he had loved when he was seventeen.
He trusted no one but the club and his brothers, and no woman—ever.
Where did that leave me?
“Get some sleep, babe.” He tucks me into his body. My man loves to spoon. And that’s what I now think of him. My man. But does he think of me as his woman?
Reno—
I dream of Kara—which, even inside my dream I know is strange, because I don’t dream of women, ever. I see her standing at the front door of some house. I know it’s our house, somehow, but I don’t recognize it. The evening is warm, and she has a baby on her hip.
She fades away, and I find myself alone in a cold, dark prison cell.
I wake with a start that carries me up on one elbow, shaking and sweating in the cold darkness.
Kara lies peacefully beside me, her body warm against mine, but I know I won’t sleep again tonight. I climb from the bed, slip on my jeans, and tug on a jacket.
I grab a spare blanket and leave the RV.
Clouds scuttle in front of the moon, and there’s a damp, cool smell of imminent rain in the air.
I dig a pack of cigarettes from my jacket pocket and shake out the last smoke in the pack. Deciding to risk one brief flare of light in the darkness, I flick my lighter.
Then I wrap myself in the blanket and prop against the fender to smoke.
I keep the ghosts at bay until the rain begins, softly pattering on the roof of the RV.
I stub out the smoke, move inside, and return to bed and Kara’s warm body.
In many ways she’s more a puzzle to me than Patty had ever been.
I pull her close and listen to the rain drum its fingers on the metal roof until the sound lulls me to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Reno—
It’s midday, and Rusty still hasn’t returned. I squint at the sun, high in the sky. I’m guessing it’s noon, since I have no way to tell. This morning Kara and I shared the last two pieces of bread and the last spoon of peanut butter we managed to scrape from the jar. We’re officially out of food.
I’m standing outside, studying the sky, trying to guess what weather the day has in store for us when the faint sound of a car engine carries to me.
A moment later, the sedan rolls up the dirt road.
Kara’s packing up her things, because we’re planning to hike out of here today. I’m thrilled we won’t have to do that now.
Rusty stops and climbs out.
“Where the fuck you been?” I snap.
“Makin’ this deal work, asshole. Hello to you, too,” he snaps back.
I run a hand through my hair. “The generator went out days ago. We’ve been without heat or power, livin’ off peanut butter sandwiches. I never want to see one again.”
Rusty glances over at the RV. “Coolie did say it was on its last leg. Guess he was right.”
“Well, Coolie can haul his ass out here and get this piece of shit home.” I turn toward the door. “Let me grab our stuff, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“I’ve got news.” Rusty’s words stop me.
I turn back, wondering what fucking bad news he has for me now. I take a guess. “What happened with Quick and Reload?”
He shakes his head. “The club’s pissed; they’re lookin’ for us. I’ve been steering clear. But there’s more.”
I huff out a breath. “Of course there is. Now what?”
He jerks his chin toward the RV and lowers his voice. “Talked to her father.”
That has me stiffening. “Yeah? How’d you work that?”
“Sentencing went down yesterday, guess you haven’t heard.”
“I’ve been a little out of touch,” I snap sarcastically.
“Judge gave Growler the full sentence. I paid a visit to our worthless attorney late last night. Threatened to kill him and got him to set up a video call with the judge.”
“And?”
“Says Rat changed the deal two days ago. Says he did exactly what Rat told him to do. Now he wants his daughter back. He also told me some interesting information about Growler’s arrest.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Seems the good judge isn’t stupid. He looked into everything about this case since his daughter’s life is on the line and all.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“Found out Rat was being followed by DEA. The bust on Growler was instigated by an anonymous tip that came in at 10:03 a.m. In the call, a freight train was heard in the background at exactly 10:04 a.m. Guess who just happened to be under surveillance that morning?”
“Rat?”
“Yup. DEA had a tail on him. They have photos of him in his car, talking on the phone the exact minute the call came in. The photos were taken outside the Southern Pacific rail yard. A freight train is seen passing in the background in the photos. And they have him on security cameras buying a burner phone from Walmart an hour before the call is made. He showed me the photos in the video call.”
“That little fucking rat.”
“Livin’ up to his name.”
“We gonna be able to prove this to the club?”
“Did the video call on McNair’s laptop. I recorded it and forwarded it to my cell phone.”
“We’re gonna need to get a few of the brothers, ones we can trust over to our side before we try and show the club and call a vote.”
Rusty nodded. “That’s the next step, but first, Judge gave me till tonight to have his daughter back to him in Georgia. Told him I had to drive and get her.”
“Let’s go.”
“I’ve got a motel in Anniston I’ve been runnin’ out of; we can stop there on the way, get cleaned up. The prospect and I collected our bikes. I’ve got ‘em waiting there for us.”
“Good.”
“One other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Got word through a friend that a couple of guys in suits were asking around at RV parks, lookin’ for a co-ed, flashin’ photos of a brunette.”
“Her father hired someone.”
“I didn’t want to piss him off any further than he already is. But, yeah, be my guess.”
“Great. We gotta watch our tail.”
“Always.”
“Speakin’ of tails, you had any more run ins with the Evil Dead?”
He nods. “Seen ‘em a couple of time. Managed to lose ‘em, though.”
I turn as Kara steps outside.
Kara—
They stop talking when they see me. My eyes move between the two men. “Hi, Rusty.”
“Hey, butterfly.”
“We’re leaving. You ready?” Reno asks shortly.
I nod. “Where are we going?”
“Atlanta. Gonna make a pit stop at a motel on the way and get cleaned up.”
“Atlanta?”
“Gonna take you home.”
I hear it, but I think he has to be teasing me. Yet no challenging look or grin follow his declaration. Slowly, I realize he means it.
He has to know I can’t go back now. Not after everything between us these last few days. He knows I don’t want to go anywhere except with him, doesn’t he?
I suppose he expects me to be glad to give up this game now and return to my old life.
As I stand there, stunned, mute, Reno shoulders past me and into the RV. My eyes move to Rusty.
“You okay, doll?” he says quietly.
I rub my upper arms. “Have you… Does my father know?”
“We made a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Promised him we’d have you back by nightfall.”
I look off across the meadow. Birds sing, chattering a happy song, but I’m not happy. I’m miserable inside. I feel bereft at the thought of going home and possibly never seeing Reno again. Is he through with me? Is it just that easy for him to let me go?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Reno—
It’s a two and a half hour drive to Anniston. By the time we get there, I’m tired of being in a cage. Rusty pulls the car into a budget motel between an oil change place and a Laundromat. It’s one level. I see our bikes parked in front of a room toward the back of the lot.
We park, and he keys the door to room number one-sixteen. I lead Kara in by the hand. It’s a dump with just one bed and a small sofa, but it’s got the basics, and right now hot water is high on my list.
Rusty tosses the key card on the table. “I’ll let you two have some privacy. I’m gonna go get some food and a beer. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
That’s his way of giving us time for a shower and use of the bed. I nod, not sure Kara is going to be up for the latter. She’s been quiet and sullen the whole drive here.
After Rusty leaves, she whirls on me. “I don’t want to go back.”
“Babe.”
“Please, don’t make me.”
I toss the backpack on the bed. “Kara, it’s the only way. You gotta see that, right?”
She eyes the pack, then suddenly moves to it, digging for something, and finally comes up with the worn pack of playing cards. She holds them up. “Let’s cut the cards for it.”
“You kept them?”
She nods. “It’s a memory. A happy one.”
Her words melt something inside me. I can’t deny the truth of them.
“So, how ‘bout it. Black, you win. Red, I win.”
I can’t help but give her a half smile, but I’m adamant. “Not this time, my little Queen of Hearts.”
She drops her hand, her eyes glazing with unshed tears and her words are soft, barely spoken. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I know, babe. But we’ve got no choice.”
“Yes, we do.”
“You want me to go to prison?”
“No.”
“That’s exactly where your father swears I’m going if you aren’t back tonight.”
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand.”
“Deal’s been made.”
“I hate you!” She stomps her foot and hurls the pack of playing cards across the room.
I shake my head and refute it softly. “No, you don’t, babe.”
“How can you let me go so easily?”
I pull her to me. She fights at first, but I band my arms around her, stilling her movements. “Nothin’ about letting you go is easy. Nothing.”
“You make it seem like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing.”
I grab her face in my hands and stare down at her. “You’re not nothing. Don’t you understand that? You’re everything. Everything I ever waited for, everything I ever prayed for, everything I gave up hoping I’d ever have a long time ago.”
“Then don’t send me back. Let me stay.”
I kiss her quiet; I don’t have any argument for her. I pray she understands. I pray she forgives me one day. I want her to remember me. I want to be in her heart the way she’s in mine.
I bend and heft her up, her legs going around my waist, and I carry her into the bathroom. I set her down and flick on the hot water while I strip her of her clothes. When she’s naked I pull mine off, my eyes on her gorgeous body the entire time. The room soon fogs with steam, and I adjust the temperature then pull her under the spray.
There’s an unwrapped bar of motel soap from the last time Rusty used the shower. I take it and soap up my hands, then wash every inch of her slippery body. Her young, firm breasts thrust out at me, begging for my attention, and I don’t hesitate to give it to them.
Her hands stroke my shoulders as I play. She moans, leaning into my touch.
“Oh, Reno.” Her voice is breathy.
I spin her around and press against her back, my arms going around her, I soap her pussy, my fingers slipping between her sleek folds. Her head falls on my shoulder, and I take one hand and run it up her throat while the other continues to tease her clit. I thrust two long fingers inside her, and she goes up on her toes, undulating against my hand. I fuck her with my fingers until she begs.
“Please, Reno. I need you so bad.”
I know the feeling. My dick is hard and pulsing against her ass cheeks. I take it in my hand and swirl the head around her clit. She arches, thrusting that pretty ass back at me. I wrap my other arm around her waist and thrust inside her. I hold her pinned while I push all the way in.
“Take it, Kara.”
“Yes,” she stutters the word on a ragged breath.
Her arms lift, and her hands clutch at my neck. I drop my head along hers and nip at her ear. She moans, thrusting against me.
“Yeah, babe, like that. Fuck me.”
She starts to move her body against mine. I like it… No, I fucking love it, but I want more. I want to drive inside her and tell her whose pussy this is, who she belongs to, who fucking never wants to let her go.
I yank her hands from my neck and put them on the tile. “Stay like that.”
She does what I say, thrusting her ass out. “Yes, that’s my good girl.” I drive into her and pull out slowly, then
drive back again and again, quickening my pace until her breasts are bouncing. I love that. I want to touch them, but I like to watch them bounce, so I grip her waist instead and pound into her.
She moans, but I want more. I slip one hand between her legs and rub in little circles around that sensitive clit until she’s crying out.
“Oh God, Reno. Yes.”
I keep at her until she’s quivering and about to explode. Then I whisper in her ear as I pinch a nipple. “Come for me, baby girl.”
She sucks in a breath, holds it, and then detonates in a long thrust against my hand. I grab her to me and feel my balls tighten up, and then I come inside her as my thrusts slow.
Her body melts in my arms, and I tighten my hold around her waist and put a hand to the tile above her head. We’re both breathing deep.
Her head drops back on my shoulder, and she pants, “I love you, Reno. I love you. I love you.” Her mantra fades off. I’ve never experienced this and I never will again. The mix of emotions is hard to deal with. I know in a way that makes me certain, that this woman and this moment will stay with me forever.
I press soft kisses to her temple and cheek, but I don’t say it back. I don’t know what stops me. If I say those three words, I’ll never let her go, and I’m still not sure I deserve her. If I’m being honest, maybe there’s a part of me that still isn’t sure I can trust her, trust any woman. I wonder if I ever will.
I hold her hard against me so her feet clear the floor, and I carry her out of the shower and set her down on the bathmat.
She pulls free and turns in my arms. “Can’t you say it back?” She stares up at me, and then nuzzles under my jaw.
I kiss her forehead. “We should get dressed. Rusty will be back soon, and we need to get on the road.”
She jerks away, and the tender moment we shared evaporates. I know it’s my fault. I’ll be the one who kills it, destroys this relationship, just like I have every one I’ve ever had.
“Do you love me?”
Some little stiffening of her body makes it plain she’s instantly sorry for asking. “Kara—”
Dirty Deeds Page 16
