by T. S. Joyce
“Shoot that first,” Trina said from down the bar top, pointing to the pair of shots the bartender had put in front of her.
There was a beer beside her shots. Bailey pointed to it to ask, but Vina explained, “Trina ordered that for your man. On the house. She owns half this bar now, and she knows what the crows drink.”
Huh. “Thanks,” she said to Trina.
The pretty woman’s eyes had turned the light silver of her inner mountain lion, but her smile was easy as she lifted her own lemon drop shot in cheers. She didn’t raise her voice any as she spoke across the others who were chatting away. Wolves had very good hearing like mountain lions. “We’ve both lost a Clan and had to start over.” Trina jerked her chin toward Rike, who was talking to the other Red Dead Mayhem members filing into the bar. “That one will make it easier to adjust.”
Ooooh, she knew who Trina was now. She was part of the original Darby Clan. They’d allied with the crows against the Two Claws Clan. And now look at them? Former Clans at war, drinking together. This was a bigger event than she’d realized, and chills rippled up her arms as she lifted her own shot in silent cheers to Trina. Survivors, both of them. “Respect,” she murmured.
All of the girls chimed in quietly, “Respect.” And then they tinked their shots on the bar top and downed them.
When Ava smacked her firmly on the ass, Bailey winced at the sting on her backside and the taste of the shot.
“Get on in there,” Ava encouraged her. “Your man is waitin’.”
“Go get that crow!” Vina said as Ten, Ava, and Trina hooted and hollered and catcalled.
Snickering to herself, Bailey took the other lemon drop shot and the beer and wove through the crowd to where Rike was talking to Ramsey and a couple other crows in leather cuts that had the Red Dead Mayhem patch on them.
“Where’s mine?” Kasey asked with mock-shock written on his face.
“Probably behind the bar waiting for you to buy it,” Bailey popped off, handing Rike his beer. “This beer wench is on break.”
Rike was smiling down at her with such pride in his eyes it was hard to look away.
“And yet you bring this asshole a drink,” Kasey complained.
“Well, he’s my man.”
Rike’s smile showed straight white teeth and nearly locked up Bailey’s knees. God, he’d turned into a hotboy.
“I’m gonna take my lady around the dance floor, boys. Y’all try not to kill anyone tonight.”
“Sounds boring as fuck,” Kasey muttered as Rike pulled Bailey by the hand toward the dance floor.
She was giggling in earnest by the time they reached the tables that sat on the outskirts. She took her shot and set the empty on a table, and then she turned just in time for Rike to pull her to his chest, his beer on the small of her back, the other big, calloused, tatted-up hand offered for a dance.
“When did you learn to dance?” she asked as she slipped her hand into his.
“I have lots of tricks up my sleeves to get into your pants now,” he teased. “You’re going to have to re-learn me.” He guided her easily in a two-step toward the center of the floor.
“Oh my gosh!” she squeaked, completely impressed with how good he was as he spun her.
He took a swig of his beer and pulled her back in. The way his eyes stayed on hers, the way his lips made a smile behind the mouth of the bottle of beer, made her fall in love with him even more. Confidence sure was sexy, and this man had grown into someone who knew his place in the world.
They danced twice as they cut up and laughed and got used to each other on the dance floor. The tequila hit, but not hard. It was soft edges, easy laughing, and not caring what the people who were watching them thought. There were whistles from the bar, and when she and Rike looked, the crows and the boys from the Two Claws Clan had joined the girls for drinks.
And everything felt right.
But how could it? She had lost her Clan. Did she have any right to be this happy right now?
“What’s wrong?” Rike asked, spinning her and then drawing her back in against his chest.
“I’m a lone wolf. It was always my biggest fear, and I should be demolished right now. I’ve disappointed my people and my dad.”
“Did you disappoint yourself?”
Bailey swayed easily with the music. “Samuel brought his side girl to the clubhouse.”
“The fuck?” Rike asked, halting the dance. His eyes turned black as he stared down at her with rage washing across his features.
“He screwed his other girl at the clubhouse, and I should’ve been hurt, but I wasn’t. I was just…mad. I felt disrespected. I’d already accepted a long time ago a pairing with him would be like this. We never had feelings for each other. I was sitting there listening to my dad tell me it was okay he’d done that, and I needed to accept my place, when suddenly it didn’t feel like my place anymore.”
“Ya damn right,” Rike said. “You’re a fucking queen. Your place is above that Clan. Samuel can go fuck himself. I know you are loyal to your dad, but he can go fuck himself, too. If I had a daughter, you bet your ass I wouldn’t be okay letting a boy disrespect her like that. I’d cut him from throat to dick and feed him his balls while he bled out.” The look on his face said he really would do that, too.
And she should be scared…right? She should be terrified he made threats so easily, threats he was perfectly comfortable following through with. But she wasn’t scared. She’d always known he was capable of destruction, but she trusted him to control his urges for violence unless a situation warranted it. And if she gave him a child someday, him being protective over their child was just downright sexy.
She should be scared, but perhaps her instincts were broken because all she felt right now was safe with him.
Before she could change her mind, she stood up on her tiptoes, threw her arms around the back of his neck, and kissed him, right there in the middle of the dance floor. She kissed him in front of everyone. Kissed him as a thank you for actually sticking up for her. The Clan had expected her to go submissive for Samuel’s whims, and here was Rike, telling her to “Fuck that. You’re a goddess. Do what you want.” It was a confirmation that she’d done the right thing. How long had it been since someone had stuck up for her? Since they looked at her as more than a way to merge family bloodlines?
Rike’s hands went to her waist, and she could feel the cool glass of his beer bottle against her skin where her tank top had lifted up from the hem of her jeans. He pulled her closer and angled his face, pushed his tongue past her lips. She couldn’t help the soft, needy whimper that bubbled up her throat, but she sure did love his smile against her lips.
This man…this dangerous outlaw crow…he was everything.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that with music filling the space around them while they made out without a single care for the attention around them. But eventually Rike lifted her off the floor and hugged her tight as he stroked his tongue against hers. When he swayed them gently with the music, she laughed against his lips and hugged him tighter.
Rike eased out of the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, but he didn’t let her feet hit the ground—not yet. Instead, he danced with her dangling in his arms as he admitted, “I tried to run away from you.”
Bailey rested her cheek on his so he wouldn’t witness the hurt on her face. “I was afraid of that,” she whispered against his ear.
“I made it all the way to your mom’s house, thinking I was going to leave and never come back and keep you safe from me.”
“I’m safe with you.”
“Are you? Or will I turn into Lucian? His ghost says I will. I think he sticks around for the show. To watch a repeat of his life, his decisions. I think he’s drawn to the darkness in me. It feeds him. It’s the darkness he created.”
“Or…he haunts you because he’s just as big an asshole in the afterlife as he was while he was walking this earth.”
Rike snorted.
“That’s also a possibility. But…what if?”
“What if you turn into him?”
“Yeah. What if I hurt you like he did to my mom?”
“Your first mistake was comparing me to anyone else. I bite back, Rike. And I’ll tell you any time I think you’re dipping toward Lucian territory.” With a growl, she eased out of his arms and settled back onto the floor. Bailey ran one of her hands up his chest and squeezed her hand around his thick, muscular throat. She let him see her anger. She let him see the snarl on her lips when she ground out, “Don’t run again. Don’t make me question my place in your heart. If you make it look easy to run, I’ll rip my heart away from you, and no amount of “I’m sorry” will bring me back. And you will say you’re sorry. You’ll figure out what sorry really means. You’ll regret losing me. Ask your crow. That’s the last time you push me away, Rike Blackwood.”
He made a click sound behind his teeth as though disgusted. “Blackwood.”
“Fuck, yes, Blackwood. Ain’t no shame in your name, Rike. Take it back from Lucian and make it mean something. And when it’s a good name again, you share it with me.” She released his throat and slid her hand down to his chest, right over his pounding heart. “Make it a good name and share it with me,” she repeated softly. “Okay?”
Rike’s chest was heaving, and his eyes were black as night and rimmed with emotion. He swallowed over and over before he nodded once. “Okay.”
She cupped his cheeks gently and waited as his eyes went back to their soft brown. “Sometimes my scar hurts,” she murmured.
“Now?”
Bailey nodded. “I like it. It’s a good reminder.”
Rike gripped one of her wrists and rubbed his rough beard against her palm, then kissed it. “I’m a mess.”
“Yes,” she said, tipping her chin up. “But you’re my mess.”
He chuckled and took a long sip of his beer, then offered her some. She nodded and tried not to laugh as he poured it into her mouth. When a little dribbled to her chin, she laughed louder. A fast rock song came on the speakers. Bailey gave him a big goofy smile and started wiggling her butt.
“Oh, God,” he said.
“Uh huh, we’re still dancing.”
All around them, people were bobbing to the beat, drinking, laughing, enjoying themselves and each other. The girls, the crows, Kurt, Trigger and the Warmaker made their way to the dance floor. It was getting crowded, but Rike didn’t pull her off the floor. He just started dancing, too. He was good, great rhythm. Bailey struggled to remember when she’d had this much fun. She and Rike loosened up more around the others, and the DJ stayed right with the mood, kept the fun beats coming. Rike stopped after his first beer, but the guys brought drinks to the dance floor whenever the girls ran low.
“I should stop,” she said, sipping her drink.
Rike shrugged and spun her slowly, then brought her back. “Cut loose if you want. I’m not drinking anymore, and I brought my bike. Have fun. I’ll take you home. You’re completely safe to have a good time tonight, Little Wolf. I’ll watch after you.”
“Always?” she tested him.
His grin slipped a little. “I would do awful things to keep you safe. Always.”
Swoon! Bailey shimmied her shoulders and bumped booties with Vina and then with Ava. This dance floor was full of badasses. Grizzlies, Crows, Mountain Lions, Moose, Wolf, a very moody and bitey squirrel. The humans here didn’t even realize what kind of destruction these shifters could cause. Or maybe they had an idea and just didn’t care. Everyone was just having fun. It was the perfect contrast to yesterday, when she’d cried herself silly at Mom’s for leaving her Clan. From the smile on Vina and Ramsey’s faces, it was a good follow-up to the stress of the interviews. Ten was dancing with her mate Kurt on the edge of the dancefloor like it was a slow-song, his hand on the small swell of her belly, but everyone else was in a bunch, cowboy hats and leather motorcycle club cuts, a smile on each face.
These were the moments that made the hard parts doable. That breathed strength back into a hurting heart.
And Rike’s hands on her as they danced to the fast beat… Bailey couldn’t stop smiling if she tried. This was what her heart had been missing all these years…her crow.
Rike twitched his attention to the window by the front door, but when she followed his gaze, there was nothing there. It was just a dark window.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Rike’s eyes were narrowed, but he dragged his attention away from it and offered a sweet smile as he said, “Nothing.”
“Lie.”
“Nothing is gonna ruin our night.” He arched his eyebrows and dared her to call out the lie now.
“Truth.”
He leaned down to kiss her, but she didn’t miss it. She didn’t miss the quick glance he gave to Ramsey, who had been staring at the same window with a thoughtful look on his face.
She smelled a rat. Or more specifically a wolf. Oh, she wasn’t dumb. She knew the Clan would harbor resentment for her leaving. There weren’t many female wolves, and the Wulfe Clan had lost their only one. She’d been a status symbol for the Wulfe Clan, and now they were just like the rest.
Here was the thing about this life—the life in a motorcycle club, the life in a Clan, the life in a mostly dominant male society. The boys didn’t give up their treasures easily.
Rike kissed her soft and murmured, “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“You want the truth?”
“Always.”
He lifted his chin and looked down at her with pride. “Atta girl. I gotta fight to be at.”
“With a wolf?”
“A wolf would do right about now. I don’t much like you being hunted.”
“You gonna stop the hunting?”
“You want one of those fruity shots on my way back?”
Bailey snorted. “Confident, aren’t you?”
“In my ability to beat the shit out of assholes? Extremely.”
This shouldn’t be funny, but the man’s eyes were lit up with excitement, and there was a conviction in his voice that said he wasn’t worried. And that made it hard for her to worry, too. Because when it came down to it, she trusted her man to protect her. Trusted him to get out of bad situations, trusted him to do what he thought was right, and at the moment, he wanted to make her safe. He wouldn’t be stopped. Men like Rike Blackwood set their sights on something and achieved it, then moved onto the next challenge. How many fights had he been in over the years? From the scars on his knuckles, it could’ve been a hundred. And here he stood, a titan, a colossus, a survivor.
“Do you want me to come?” she asked.
He canted his head and frowned. “Yes.” He seemed surprised by his own answer. “You left your Clan for me, and then you did one better and fought the Second alongside me. I think you’re a ride-or-die, aren’t you Little Wolf?”
She smiled. “I think you’ve figured me out.”
“Loyal.”
She dipped her chin once, and he held out his hand.
“You need help?” Ramsey asked as Rike led her through the crowd toward the back exit.
“Nah, we’re good. This one’s got teeth,” Rike called over his shoulder as he gave Bailey’s hand a squeeze.
The second they stepped outside, the air was pungent with the scent of wolf fur. There was a loading dock at the back, and Rike, completely calm, led her to it. With his back to the woods, he gripped her waist and helped her up. When she was settled, cool-as-you-like, he sat beside her, his feet almost touching the ground because of his long, powerful legs.
If the wolves were out there, they didn’t move a muscle. She couldn’t see the reflection of their eyes or hear the soft movement of their paws through the brush. She scanned the woods with her senses all thrown at them, but the wolves didn’t seem to be there.
Bailey pulled out her phone and texted her father. Who is hunting me? Send.
There was a
n error message that said her number was blocked. “The shunning has begun,” she murmured, staring at the glowing screen.
“You aren’t alone,” Rike assured her.
The music inside was back to country and drifted to them through the thin walls of The GutShot. The scent of wolves was fading, and Rike leaned forward on locked arms, frowning at the woods just beyond the halo of light from the bar.
He parted his lips as if to say something, but the music suddenly got louder when the back door opened. Ramsey came out holding Vina’s hand. He scanned the woods once and then brought her toward Bailey and Rike.
“Overprotective,” Rike muttered. “I said we were fine.”
“Maybe I’m not out here to fight,” the King of Crows said, running his hand through his blond hair. “Maybe I’m out here for fresh air.”
“Same,” Kasey called from the opening back door.
Trina and Ten and Kurt followed him out, and then all the sudden there was the Warmaker, Hairpin Trigger, and Ava, all their new friends from inside, bringing the party to them.
Bailey took a bottle of cheap wine that Trina offered her and took a swig before she passed it to Rike.
“Woman, unless that is some kind of new fancy whiskey, I’m not drinking that girl-juice.”
“More for us,” Vina said, hopping up beside Bailey. “Smells like wet dogs.”
Bailey lifted two fingers and offered to claim the smell, but Vina finished. “Boy wet dogs. You smell like magnanimous goddess wolf and perfume, deodorant, shampoo, a little smidge of hairspray. Oh, and love.”
Bailey tossed her head back and laughed. “I smell like love?”
Vina’s smile was drunk as she wrapped her ankles around Ramsey’s waist. “Yep. Love.”
“Oh, dear God,” Rike muttered, but there was a smile in his voice. “I’m gonna light a bonfire since you pack of stage-five clingers look like you’re gonna be hanging around.”
He and Ramsey made their way to an old metal trashcan. Kasey tossed them some lighter fluid from the loading dock, and Kurt hauled a couple logs from a woodpile against the building. They had the fire lit in no time while the girls sat in a row on either side of Bailey. She’d never had shifter females as friends before. Mostly, she’d hung out with boys growing up, but this was really nice. Everyone was laid back and just happy to be out here with the bugs and dirt and the man on the moon smiling down on them. Soon, the scent of the wolves was completely gone, and there was no howling, no growling…only laughter and stories. Rike was watching her from the other side of the bonfire where he was hanging out with Kurt and the Warmaker. The flames glowed across his cheek bones and made his eyes look brighter. There was a distracted smile on his face.
