by Karen Renee
“The hell you are! You’re not even getting a loan through me.”
“No, but I’m a New Star customer, and I’ll still have your job if I want to.”
I was opening my mouth to retort when I saw it. I watched in horror as Mark’s tight, large fist swung at me. The strike to my face turned my head to the right with a force I couldn’t believe. It was so unexpected, I lost my balance. Some recess of my mind seemed to know that I was going to fall to my right side. My right hand extended out to diminish my fall. I felt searing pain in my palm where it scraped on the sidewalk as I fell down. I hoped that would be the end of it. I had never met a man who beat women, at least, not that I knew of. I had no idea what to expect, but I saw his brown wing-tip dress shoes approaching my face on the ground.
Please, don’t kick me in the face! It’ll affect my job. These were my stupid thoughts as he approached. He let out a growl and I saw one of his feet leave the ground. Then I heard the foot slam down and blinding pain radiated from my fingers and hand, straight up my elbow. I cried out. I heard the high pitch, but it sounded strangely quiet to me.
“We’re not done, Frankie. Don’t you forget it. You will give it up to me, any time I want it.”
His feet stepped back and I thought that would be the end of it. Then the foot that hadn't stomped on my hand pulled back, and all of the air left my lungs in a whoosh. The intense pain from three different parts of my body had me seeing stars. Then the asshole went and kicked me in the ribs, again. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Mercifully, everything went black.
CHAPTER 2
I opened my eyes to see beautiful light-brown eyes peering down at me. Those eyes were set in the chiseled face of a light-brown-skinned black man. He saw my eyes focusing, and he graced me with a beautiful, wide smile.
“Ma’am, we’re going to put you on the gurney now.”
“I’m so disgusted with myself,” I managed to rasp.
Another paramedic came into my line of sight. He was dark-haired and had lovely hazel eyes. Not hazel like Cal’s, but they were lovely nevertheless. He was looking at my face in an assessing manner.
“I should have put up a fight. I was this close,” I croaked and then I tried to put my fingers together with only a modicum of space between them, but I couldn’t do it. The pain was excruciating, and I felt an ugly grimace spread across my face.
“Ugh. I can’t move my fingers, dammit.”
My brown-eyed firefighter looked down and gently placed my hand flat on the gurney.
The hazel-eyed man looked deep into my eyes and then said, “Don’t worry about it, miss. We’ll get you to St. Vincent’s and they’ll set your hand.”
For whatever reason, I couldn’t stop my babbling. “I knew he was bad news. He’s an engineer. I bet none of you hot firefighters cheat on your wives. Hell, I bet none of you are even single.”
Before either of the handsome paramedic firemen could speak, Reggie surged into my line of sight and said, “Oh, thank God, you’re awake, Frankie. Who did this to you? I’ll kill ‘em, and if I can’t kill ‘em, then Tucker sure as hell can.”
“Reggie, babe. I don’t need you siccing your well-built stud-muffin on this guy’s case.”
Reggie stepped back, looking like I had struck him. “You mean to tell me you know who hit you? Seriously? Frankie, who would do such a heinous thing? It better not have been a woman.”
“No, it was the husband of the last couple who came through the house.”
Reggie gasped. “Green polo and khakis? Pregger wife? What the hell? Shit, did they sign the guest book?”
I didn’t know, and the firemen didn’t give me time to tell Reggie, because they were wheeling me to the back of the ambulance.
*** ***
The following Monday, I was leaving the New Star headquarters office on Blanding boulevard around quarter to seven. I had a hankering for buffalo wings, and I had called Dick’s Wings in Argyle with my take-out order. I pulled into the parking lot and realized that it was Bike Night there. There were easily thirty or more bikes in the parking lot, ranging from Harleys and Triumphs to Kawasaki and Yamaha crotch-rockets. I stepped out of my SUV and couldn’t help but slowly wander by the bikes and openly ogle them. As bikers are wont to do, some of them were milling outside amongst the bikes while sipping beer. I tried to covertly ogle some of those bikers, too.
I went inside and walked directly to the bar for my to-go order. I leaned my right arm on the bar in an effort to keep my right hand elevated, even if only for a few minutes. My trip to the emergency room resulted in my broken hand being set in a cast, my ribcage being wrapped with ace bandages, and my left eye being iced.
I had quite the shiner working on my face. This morning, I had found that no amount of concealer or foundation could hide the hideous bruise. It took until mid-afternoon before I could tune out my coworkers’ gasps and reactions to my marred appearance. Being in a wing joint during Bike Night, there weren’t as many surprised looks coming my way. Bikers didn’t flinch at anyone with black eyes, at least not openly.
A large, burly man wearing a black Harley t-shirt and leather cut strode directly up to me as I waited on the waitress to come back with my to-go order. The man firmly grasped my shoulders and turned me to him. I looked into his chocolate-brown eyes and realized I was looking directly at Roll, another one of Vamp’s MC brothers from Riot.
“Shit! I thought that was you. Girl, how are you doin’? And what’d you do to get such a nasty shiner? Air-bag deploy on your ass in a car accident?”
Behind Roll I could see another brother; Blood was standing there just as I remembered him, with his goateed face and his lank brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. His gaze was concerned, and I suddenly remembered distinctly just how much I loved these guys. Blood did not miss the fact that my answer was not forthcoming. Before I could say anything at all, I realized Roll had caught Vamp’s eye and he was coming our way.
Vamp looked me up and down, taking in the black eye and broken hand. “You were beaten by a man, weren’t you?”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know fighting. Women don’t dish out black eyes and broken hands.” To my utter surprise, Vamp tenderly ran his hands down my sides from my breasts to my waist. My surprise prevented me from hiding the flinch when he gently touched my bruised ribs.
Vamp’s blue eyes narrowed on me, like the blue light from the laser gun dentists use to seal a filling. He growled at me, “Who the fuck did this to you?”
“Vamp, you really –”
Roll jumped in before Vamp could. “I don’t care if you’re not with Vamp any more, and haven’t been for a long time. I liked you, always have. We’re gonna get this fucker and let him know he doesn’t fuck with our Lorraine.”
“It’s ‘Frankie’ now.”
“What the fuck ever,” Roll rumbled.
I put my good hand on my hip. “I appreciate it. I really do. And I’ve always liked you, too, Roll, even if you are the most annoying Alabama fan in all of Florida. But if you go rough him up, he’ll have my job. I've got a small house at the beach and my mortgage is decent, but it’s still steep for a single woman. I can’t afford to lose my job.”
Further discussion of the issue was interrupted by the waitress bringing my to-go order to me. Realizing I was planning to leave, Blood and Roll talked me into taking my Styrofoam take-out box to their table, and I ate with them. I knew Vamp was around, but he was keeping his distance. I would sense him staring at me every so often, and when I would try to catch him in the act, he’d turn away.
Cal came by and said, “He ain’t been the same since we ran into you that day at Jared’s.”
I looked at him and asked, “Who would that be?”
“Don’t be coy with me. You know I’m talking about Vamp. He’s had a wake-up call recently. Things are changing with him. Maybe you should give him another chance?”
“I don’t think so. Cheater Eleven may have hurt me physically,
but I can’t take the kind of heartbreak that comes with Vamp’s territory.”
Cal gave me a sideways glance. “Cheater Eleven?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, once they cheat, they get a number. Vamp’s Number Four. As you can tell, in the past six years I haven’t managed to break the damn cycle. Damn pathetic as far as I’m concerned.”
I thought Cal would have a reaction to that, but his gaze shifted over my shoulder and his face practically lit up. I turned my head to look in the same direction. I saw a petite brunette in an aquamarine-hued sleeveless dress with ruching at the hip. It was business-like, but hot at the same time. The neck of the dress scooped slightly, and I saw a huge teardrop-shaped necklace hanging from her neck. As the woman came closer, I noticed a herringbone pattern on the teardrop charm, and if I wasn’t mistaken it was likely a Le Vian necklace. Routinely, I would drool over the chocolate diamonds in the Le Vian case after making my Pandora purchase. I missed that opportunity recently, thanks to Bradley, but at least I didn’t feel quite so guilty for ruining Tyrone’s potential sale of an engagement ring a few weeks back anymore.
“Hey, Firecracker,” Cal said to the woman, as she approached.
“Hey,” she said, almost breathy, as Cal wrapped an arm around her.
He bent his head to hers and gave her a kiss with enough passion to make me turn away.
When they broke their kiss, I heard Cal say, “Mallory, I want you to meet Lorraine‒ sorry, I mean Frankie Ingram.”
Mallory gave Cal a look, then with an outstretched hand, she smiled at me. “Hi. I’m Mallory. It’s very nice to meet you.”
I raised my cast, and offered my left hand to her. “Sorry, my right hand’s currently out of order.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile and switched to her left hand, too. After we shook hands, I said, “Thanks, nice to meet you, too. Glad to see Cal finally landed a decent woman. Love the dress.”
Up close, I could see the gorgeous necklace perfectly accentuated Mallory’s chestnut locks and her intelligent brown eyes. I also noticed that it was definitely one of the necklaces I had drooled over at Jared's many times.
Turning to Cal I said, “You went with Le Vian! Guess you really did make up for my cousin and me derailing Tyrone’s commish on Number Ten’s engagement ring.”
Cal’s eyebrows furrowed. “Your cousin?”
“Yeah. The lady who ‘gave’ me the engagement ring,” I said, using air quotes when I said the word ‘gave’.
Cal looked almost irritated with me. “Well, shit. If I woulda known she was your family—”
“Oh, stop! You’re layin’ down money on Le Vian, you’ll be buyin’ more for Mallory. Just ask for Diane when you go back.”
With a groan, Cal said, “Not so sure. That piece set me back a good-sized chunk.”
I giggled because I knew Cal had plenty of ‘good-sized chunks’ set aside. Six years ago, the club had been into some nefarious dealings, but those dealings were lucrative to say the least. Each brother got a cut of the take, and since Cal had been the Sergeant-at-Arms even back then, his officer's cut was a bit larger. He was living at the clubhouse at the time, so between low overhead and chunks of change coming his way, I had to figure Cal had some cash on hand.
Shaking my head, I said, “Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Cal.”
CHAPTER 3
“That is fucking awesome!” Mallory yelled.
I grimaced, but only slightly, because facial expressions still made the sensitive skin under my eye hurt. I had just finished recounting the scene my cousin and I had orchestrated at Jared’s when I had found out boyfriend Ten was a cheater. The scene might have well been awesome, but not so much when you’re on the receiving end of the cheating.
“If you say so,” I said, while wiping my buffalo-sauce-stained fingers with a wet-nap.
“I don’t mean it’s awesome you found out he was cheater, just that it was a damn creative way to throw his ass under the bus. Or maybe, you just threw his ass on the bus, I suppose.”
“God willing, though I think I’d have preferred he had to walk.”
Mallory gave me a tentative look. “So, you’ve really had eleven boyfriends, and all of them were cheaters?”
I tilted my head to one side and then the other, but said, “Basically, yeah. I mean I’ve dated more than eleven men, but the ones I actually get involved with for more than a single date turn out to be cheats.”
She put a hand on my good forearm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
I shrugged. “It’s all right. Plenty of fish in the sea. I just gotta get away from the catch-and-release at the retention pond and move out to the sea where I can reel in a big one and a good one.”
A devilish glint hit Mallory’s eyes and she said, “A big one would help to make him a good one.”
“You are incorrigible.”
I pulled my phone from my purse and saw the time was a touch past eight o’clock. Smiling at her, I said, “It’s been nice chatting with you, Mallory, but I’m gonna have to get going.”
She nodded, and then Cal and Blood boxed us in from behind. I glanced up and the looks on their faces said ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
Blood tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, careful not to graze the outer edges of my black eye. “They didn’t get this guy, right?”
I closed my eyes in resignation. Bikers were like dogs with bones, never gonna leave it alone.
“I can’t press charges. He’ll have my job. I need my job. Hell, unlike other people, I can even say that I like my job. I love my house. You guys need to just leave it be.”
Cal grumbled, “We let that shit with your pissant slide at Jared’s, but woman, this cannot stand.”
“What was his message?” Blood asked. That caught me off-guard.
“I’m sorry. What?”
Blood took a deep breath, like he was trying to keep hold of his patience with me.
“I beat a man like this, I’m doin’ it to send a message. No matter what‒before, during or after the beat-down‒ the man knows what my message is and how he needs to behave in the future. What was this asswipe’s message to you?”
Well, this wasn’t going to go well. My brain was scrambling to concoct a plausible lie for what Stillman’s message would have been. Cal and Blood exchanged a look.
“Spit it out, Rainey,” Cal demanded.
I slid my eyes to him and hissed, “It’s ‘Frankie’, now,” then I said calmly, “He said we weren’t done.”
Blood said, “So, he’s lordin’ your job over you for sex? That seems to be what I’ve gathered. Has he called you today?”
“I changed my phone yesterday. First smart thing I’ve done, I suppose,” I said.
“He ever been to your place?” Blood asked.
I looked down at my lap thinking how stupid I had been to let that scumbag into my home. I glanced up, feeling ashamed, and said, “Yeah.”
Both men stiffened at this information. Blood stalked away toward the patio, and Cal put his large hand on my shoulder.
“Someone’s gonna follow you home tonight, babe.”
I tilted my head. “That really isn’t necessary, Cal.”
“Yeah, it is, woman. Don’t argue. This asshole can’t get in touch with you, but he knows where you live. That’s gonna be his only recourse, and then what are you gonna do? Suffer date rape? I do not think so.”
“Well, it can’t be Vamp.”
Cal gave me a wry look. “There’s an old cliché, babe, beggars can’t be choosers.”
Great.
*** ***
Blood followed me home from Dick’s Wings. He was driving Mallory’s Toyota Camry, and positively riding my bumper. If it had been anyone else, I’d be cursing them off from inside my SUV. We rolled up to my driveway at quarter after nine. I stepped out of the SUV and started walking towards the Camry. The engine cut off, but the headlights remained on. The driver’s door opened, and Vamp stepped out of the car.
&nbs
p; These guys! I should have known I couldn’t trust them. Beggars can’t be choosers, my ass. I didn’t beg for one of them to follow me home.
“Why you?” I asked, folding my arms under my breasts.
He shrugged. “Why not me? Now, let’s go inside and make sure the asshole didn’t decide to get creative and break in, or something.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s a fucking engineer. He wouldn’t break into my house.”
“Humor me,” he said, in a tone that told me he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
We went inside my house, and after closing the door, I turned off the alarm. When the beeping stopped, I turned to Vamp. “See? Safe and sound. Have a good night, ok?”
Vamp ran a hand down his face. “Don’t be like that, babe.”
“Don’t be like what? I really don’t –”
My words stuck in my throat when I heard the doorbell ring and Mark Stillman’s voice outside my door saying, “Frankie, it’s me. Open up. I know you’re home and I know you’ve got some douchebag in there with you.”
Before I could do anything, Vamp turned on his heel and whipped my front door open. “You the asshole who thinks he can rape the woman in this house?”
Mark almost looked shocked by Vamp’s words, but, in addition to being vocabulary masters, I knew cheaters were also stellar actors. Shocked expressions came naturally to them, especially when accused of being cheaters, or in this case date rapists.
After a moment Mark recovered and said, “It’s not rape. She likes what I have to give her. I was here just last week.”
“It’s rape when you force her to have sex in order to keep her job, fuckface. She found out you have a pregnant wife. She told you she was done. She ain’t some toy that you can throw on the ground and stomp on when it stops working for you. I ought to rough your ass up twice as badly as you did Frankie.”
