by Lilly Atlas
It was such a normal thing, a handsome man making teasing, flirty comments, but it no longer felt normal to her. She’d tensed at his words and had to work to keep from running away.
“Fia?”
She turned toward the bar and met Striker’s gaze. “Striker.”
“Hey, come have a seat.”
“Thanks.” She walked to the bar and sat on the empty stool beside him.
He leaned in like he was going to kiss her cheek, but must have sensed her distress, because he halted at the last minute and patted her shoulder. “Want a drink?”
So what if it was two on a Saturday afternoon? She obviously needed something to help her relax. “Sure, I’ll have a beer, thanks.”
Two seconds later, a half-full tumbler of amber liquid was plunked down in front of her. She looked at Striker, whose ice-blue eyes were alight with mischief. He really was attractive. Lila was a lucky woman. His dark brown hair was once again disheveled, and a few days’ growth of beard dotted his jaw line, giving him an edge that on him was very attractive.
“Thought bourbon might be more effective. You look like you could use it.”
The man was observant.
“Thanks.” She took a sip and almost moaned as warmth coated the back of her throat and traveled down to her stomach. “That’s good stuff.”
“Damn straight. I don’t give the good shit to just anyone either.” He smiled and tapped the bar. An identical glass appeared before him. “Beat it, Prospect,” he ordered the very young looking man who delivered the drinks. “So, Fia, I assume you’re not just here to drink my booze.”
She shook her head and took a healthy gulp of her drink. Once the young man he called Prospect was out of earshot, she spoke. “I’m not. First off, I wanted to thank you, and your wife. You guys were—”
He placed his hand over one of hers on the bar and she forced herself to keep still when every instinct screamed at her to yank her hand away.
Face the fear. Flood it.
He wasn’t going to throw her down on the bar and attack her. The intelligent side of her knew that, but the damn fear made rational thoughts evaporate. She used her free hand to take another drink, get her mind off the feel of him touching her.
“Not necessary, hon. For real.” He released her hand and straightened on the stool. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re Acer’s. Enough said.”
His comment made her inhale a sharp breath, unfortunately with a mouth full of bourbon. She coughed and sputtered, the hot burn of embarrassment heating her face.
“Shit! Sorry, hon.” He moved in like he was going to whack her on the back, but she waved him off.
“It’s fine,” she said around a wet cough. “You just startled me. I’m not Acer’s anything. Nothing at all. We haven’t even spoken since I was here last.”
He stared at her, as though he could see into her brain. “We’ll see.”
She shook her head. There was nothing to see.
“The man’s working through his own issues, hon. Anyway, back to why you’re here.”
What did he mean by that? Acer’s own issues? Thoughts for another time. She took a deep breath. “I never went to the cops. Not here, nor once I got to California.”
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have laughed at the comical expression of surprise that crossed his face.
“Why the fuck not? Because of what I said? Shit, Fia. I just told you to leave us out of it. Lila’s gonna have my ass.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even further.
She reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. “No. That’s not why. Well, maybe that’s a tiny piece, but I just couldn’t go. I don’t really expect you to understand, but the thought of it—” She shrugged. “The thought of all the interviews, and the time, and the reliving of it all. I just couldn’t. And Lila knows. She called me because the cops never requested the rape kit. I’m assuming she didn’t say anything to you because I’m technically a patient and she wanted to protect my privacy.”
Striker nodded as though he did understand. She liked the man. He was intense, but not a brute, and not one to bullshit. “Okay then, what’s the problem?”
“My family is the problem. They are pushing me to go to the cops, hard. Truthfully, I think they want the story to hit the news. Any publicity is good publicity, right?” She rolled her eyes.
“Christ, sounds like your parents are some serious assholes.”
She half smiled at him. “They have their moments. Thing is, I’ve refused so many times, they are threatening to take things into their own hands. My dad’s mentioned on more than one occasion that he’s going to go to the media. I don’t think he’s bluffing. I wanted to warn you guys, and make sure you knew I had no part in it.”
Another second under Striker’s piercing stare and she’d start to squirm. “Thank you, honey,” Striker said. “It’s a problem, but nothing we can’t handle. I appreciate you coming to me with this.”
“Least I could do.” Unsure of what to do with herself now that she’d delivered the message, she swirled her finger in the condensation that collected on the bar around the base of her glass.
“You know you could have just called, right? Both Acer and Lila gave you their numbers.”
She nodded.
“You hanging in, honey?” Striker asked.
“I’m fine.” The automatic answer was out of her mouth without a second of thought, having repeated it so many times over the past two weeks.
When Striker didn’t reply, she sighed and dragged a drop of water across the smooth surface of the bar with her fingertip. “I’m pretty shitty. And I just needed…out. I should never have gone with them in the first place, but I was hurt and scared, and like a little kid, I hoped my parents could fix it. Pathetic, huh?”
He gave her a small smile. She was grateful he didn’t try to crowd her space but remained a safe foot and a half away on his barstool. “Not pathetic at all, hon. You got a place to stay?”
“No, this trip was a bit of an impulse.”
“Stay with us, for as long as you need. Lila will be thrilled.”
“No, I can’t. You—”
“It’s not open for discussion.” His mouth smiled and his eyes were easy, but his tone brokered no argument. The man was obviously used to having his orders obeyed.
She should go, but she could stay. Was it a horrible idea? Couldn’t be worse than the notion of going back to her parent’s home in Texas. She wasn’t thriving at their house, she was hiding. And the pressure to go to the police and media would soon be unbearable.
If she stayed here, there was a chance she could breathe again. Get over some of the paralyzing fear that was now a constant in her life.
She should stay.
“Well, maybe just a few days. Thank you. I’d love to see Lila.” And Acer, but closed her mouth before those words escaped. Decision made, Fia took a deep breath. It came easier, perhaps easier than it had in the past two weeks. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
Chapter Thirteen
Acer bent his left ear toward his shoulder and winced at the crack that resounded through the room. The noise was unpleasant, but some of the tension that had built in his neck released with the stretch. He glanced at the clock on his laptop.
Damnit, two-twenty-seven. He’d been holed up in Striker’s room at the clubhouse for nearly five hours, and not a fuckin’ thing to show for it.
The door flew open and Jester burst in without knocking. No surprise there. His brother’s giant body and even more outstanding personality went where it wanted when it wanted.
“What the hell you been doing in here for so long, nerd? You got a chick stashed somewhere?” He made a dramatic display of looking around the room, knowing full well that Acer had been working all day.
“Just me.” Acer closed his laptop and swung his feet off the bed, landing his boots on the floor with a thud.
With a snort, Jester crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a
gainst the doorframe. “Figures. You know, now that I think about it, I ain’t seen you with a woman in a while.”
He had no idea.
“Anything you want to tell me?” Jester loved nothing more than ribbing everyone he knew. He wouldn’t stop until Acer shut him up.
“Yeah, actually there is. I’m gay.”
Jester’s eyes widened and his arms dropped to his sides. “Oh, shit, well…um…that’s…you know…”
Acer burst out laughing.
“Fuck you!” Jester scowled. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Nothing less than you deserve, brother.”
Jester grunted and pointed to the closed laptop. “How’s that coming?”
Acer blew out a breath. He leaned forward and propped his forearms on his thighs. “It’s not. I can’t find shit. My gut is screaming at me that I’m missing something, but I’ve looked at weeks of satellite imagery. Lots of traffic across the border, but that’s typical, and nothing to suggest anyone is trying to fuck with us in any way. It’s making me twitchy.”
Jester moved into the room and sat next to Acer on the edge of the bed. “Maybe she was wrong. She could have misheard.” He paused then spoke in a lower tone. “Maybe your old man sent her here with the message.”
Acer turned his head and gave Jester his best hate glare. “No fuckin’ way would she do that.”
Jester raised an eyebrow. “You gotta consider it as a possibility, brother.”
“Yeah, you would know.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Acer wanted to kick himself. Sure, Emily was initially sent by their enemies, but she acted against her will and did her damnedest to protect the club. Jester’s mouth thinned in an expression of extreme displeasure, but thankfully, he didn’t try to knock Acer’s lights out. Getting hit by Jester was never an experience anyone wanted.
Acer dropped his head into his hands. “Sorry, Jest, that was a shit thing to say. I told you this was making me twitchy.”
And why the hell didn’t he consider the possibility that Fia was sent by his father? Because he felt some kind of strange connection to her? Because even though he’d only fucked her in about one one-hundredth of the ways he wanted to fuck her, she was still the best he’d had? Because he felt responsible for the trauma she’d endured? Because he still dreamed about her almost every night? Only now, his dreams started out an erotic pleasure and ended in a nightmare of horrifying memories that had him waking in a cold sweat.
He never took anyone at face value, and none of those reasons were enough to do so now.
“Yeah…about that.” Jester clucked his tongue.
Acer sat straight up and looked Jester in the eye. “Ahh, so that’s what this is really about. You drew the short straw.”
Jester snorted and ran a hand across his chin. “Something like that. Look, you’ve been off for months, but the past two weeks you’ve been a miserable prick. The way I see it, it’s gotta be the chick.”
“Leave it, Jester.” He was not about to discuss his complicated connection and confounding feelings for Fia.
“At the risk of sounding like a pussy, you feel something for this one?”
“Christ, you are turning into a pussy.” He flicked his wrist and imitated the crack of a whip with his mouth. “This what happens when you board the monogamy train? Just another reason to stay far away.”
Jester laughed and shrugged like he didn’t care one bit if Acer thought he was losing his edge. “Maybe, but all the sex sure is nice. That woman can’t keep her hands off me. I’ll tell ya, if I were a lesser man, I might have a hard time keeping up with her needs. Good thing I’m such a virile stud.” He thumped a fist against his chest, a smug smile on his face.
Acer rolled his eyes. “Just stop talking. You’re starting to use words that are too big for you.” He stood. “Let’s go, I need a drink.” He started toward the door but was halted by Jester’s hand on his shoulder.
“Seriously, brother, you gotta snap out of it. Shiv’s asking questions. He’s gonna leave you out of shit if you can’t stay focused on the game.”
Acer nodded. “I appreciated the warning.” Jester was right. His head had been fucked up for the past two weeks, the past seven months really. “Thanks, I’ll pull my head out of my ass.”
“Works for me.” Jester clapped his hands once then rubbed them back and forth. “To the bar!”
Acer followed him downstairs. When he neared the bottom, he heard the sound of Fia’s laughter. It was a laugh he’d recognize anywhere. One that haunted his dreams. Maybe he was losing his mind. Hallucinating after spending such an inordinate amount of time obsessing about her. He scanned the room and stopped dead in his tracks.
Fia sat at the bar, drinking with Striker. Or at least it was some version of Fia. Not the Fia he knew. Not the confident, sexy, vivacious Fia he’d touched, tasted, and fucked all night long. This was a haunted Fia, with flat, shuttered eyes, unstyled hair, and baggy clothes that might as well have been a metal chastity belt.
Heaviness settled on the left side of his chest. It wasn’t that Fia no longer looked pretty; she’d be beautiful no matter what she wore. No, the deep sadness came from knowing she wore these clothes as a shield of armor to keep men’s interest at bay. She was a shadow of her normal self, and that made his stomach ache.
“Oh goody. This day is about to get a lot more interesting,” Jester said.
He drank in the sight of her. Letting her leave with her parents had been a mistake. They hadn’t done right by her. One more error added to his scorecard.
Well, fuck that. She was on his turf now, for whatever reason. This time, he’d keep her here, with him. He couldn’t do a worse job of helping her than her negligent family had. And he’d use his last breath to get the old Fia back if he had to.
~ ~ ~ ~
Tiny hairs rose on the back of Fia’s neck and she swiveled around, making eye contact with a stunned Acer. The invisible connection she felt to him, even after everything she’d been through, was overwhelming.
He looked mouthwatering in dark jeans that hugged his waist and were obviously of higher quality than most of the men here. On top, he wore a plain, light gray T-shirt and the same black leather vest he’d worn when she last saw him. In fact, each man here had the same No Prisoners vest, though each bore different patches.
As usual, his hair was impeccable and he radiated a vibe of refinement. Fia wasn’t sure why the combination of polished sophistication and down and dirty biker was so appealing to her, but it was. Or maybe it was just the man himself.
As though drawn by a magnetic force, Acer veered straight for her, ignoring the big man beside him who spoke. She recognized him from the night they’d rescued her. His size terrified her at first. Now she had to admit he looked like an oversized teddy bear. Probably not something she should mention to him though.
Acer stopped right in front of her and lifted her right hand, the same hand he’d held in the hospital. He brought it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm before cradling her hand in his larger one. The tender gesture brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Crying in a room full of bad-ass bikers would take mortification to a whole new level.
There was no fear, no tension, only relief at being near him. It was like the permission she’d given him to hold her hand in the hospital two weeks ago still counted and they both knew it.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he whispered.
Beside her, Striker cleared his throat. Fia’s entire body heated in embarrassment as she realized every man in the room was focused on their show. She tried to pull her hand back, but Acer held it captive in a firm but affectionate hold.
“Hello, Acer.” Her focus jumped around the room, taking in the men who observed them. The massive one who had been on the stairs with Acer had an arrogant smirk on his face. Gosh, what was his name? She must have been introduced to him but had little chance of remembering a quick introduction from that devastating night.
“Ign
ore them,” Acer said. “What are you doing here?”
Striker jumped in. “Her parents are threatening to go to the media. They know we were involved and want to splash it all across headlines.”
“Shit.” Acer scrubbed his free hand over his face. “I never should have let you leave with them. I’m sorry, Fi.”
She squeezed his hand. He needed to stop accepting blame for things that weren’t his fault. “What else could you have done?”
“I could have had you stay here, with me. Which is what I’m doing now. Hope you didn’t pay for a hotel, you’re coming with me.”
Seriously? He wanted her with him. She wasn’t sure if she should be elated or terrified. “Acer, I already told Striker I’d stay with him and Lila.”
“Well, untell them.” He glared and Striker and Fia couldn’t help but chuckle at the pissed off expression on his face. She longed to take him up on his offer. In the three minutes he’d been standing there, she felt safer than she had in the past two weeks at her parents’ house. The situation was just so complicated. She wasn’t the woman she’d been when they first met, couldn’t function as that woman had any longer.
“Please.” Acer’s whispered plea and the sincerity shining in his eyes made the decision for her.
“I’m sorry, Striker,” she said in an overly sweet voice. “Thank you for your kind offer of hospitality, but it appears I’m requested elsewhere.”
Striker smiled and patted her on the shoulder, ignoring the real and true growl that came from Acer when he touched her. What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a possessive ape. She ignored the small thrill that sound evoked.
“Well, normally I’d put up a fight, just to bust his balls,” he said jerking his thumb at Acer. “But you lit up like a damn Christmas tree when he came in the room. If he can put that look back on your pretty face, who am I to stand in the way?”
It really didn’t matter what look Acer put on her face. Nothing would come of it. She was damaged, the thought of being intimate with a man made her want to bury her head in the sand. This was just a chance for something different. A chance to get away from her real life and figure out who she was supposed to be moving forward. It had nothing to do with Acer.
