by K E Osborn
“No. You’re smart. We’ve established you’re sassy as hell. But you’re also so fucking sexy, and I’m having trouble keeping my mind out of the gutter.” He turns, moving me in the process, and pinning my back against the glass as he presses his chest against mine and looks deep into my eyes. As I look up at him, both our chests are heaving from the tension. “Don’t fight the inevitable, foxy.”
His hand moves in beside my head and presses against the window pane, while the other stays firmly on my hip trapping me. He’s so close, the smell of leather and aftershave is overpowering and making it hard to think. I want to shove him away. I want to tell him, no. I want to fight and take the power back, but it’s shifted in his favor so damn fast my knees are buckling under the pressure of his intense gaze. His ice-blue eyes bore into mine with such fierceness, the heat in them, the energy, the lust, I can see it. I feel it. I want it. My hands disobey me and snake around his neck holding him close as he continues to stare while I inadvertently lick my lips.
I feel like he’s going to slowly lean in, take his time, but he shocks me as his hand on the window slides in behind my head, his fingers threading in my hair taking a tight grip. I gasp as he pulls my head forcefully to his, knocking the wind from me. I don’t have time to think, or react, before his lips are on mine, tasting and devouring with need and an insatiable hunger.
My knees give out, but his hand on my waist holds me in position as he forces me back against the glass, his body pressing mine in place as I gather myself enough to kiss him back. The kiss is intense. It’s all teeth and tongues. It’s not slow, it’s furious and passionate and full of lust. This is the kind of kiss that leads to hot, dirty sex, and that’s what I’ve needed for the last two years. Fuck! It’s been so long, I’m craving Torque more than ever right now, and if I’m not careful that craving might just win.
Instinctively, my leg raises up around his side, and he grips onto it, his calloused hand sliding up my thigh and holding on underneath as I grind into him, all the while we kiss frantically against the glass of his office.
Torque’s cock begins to harden against my pussy, and I let out a stifled moan into his mouth as our tongues collide, and he kisses me harder. I’m lost in the lust, the desire, the yearning of having him.
Suddenly a knock sounds on the door, and then there’s a clearing of the throat behind us.
Torque pulls back, and I gasp as we break apart. The sizzle in the air, the spark and energy fizzles and falls as I drop my leg, and he looks over his shoulder. As he does, I see Tremor standing there looking down at the floor.
“What?” Torque grunts out.
Tremor rolls his shoulders uncomfortably. “Sorry Pres, I know you don’t want to be interrupted—”
“Exactly. So why the fuck—”
“Andretti’s men. Surveillance has them headed our way.”
Torque breaks away from me and runs his hands through his hair. “One night. One fucking night. That’s all I wanted.” He sighs and tips his chin to Tremor, who nods and heads off. He turns back to me and weakly smiles. “Don’t think I don’t wanna spend more time with you. I do. But tonight…” he grimaces and shakes his head, “… tonight, foxy, I’m gonna have to bail on you. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Just keep that sweet ass for me alone. Okay?”
I raise my brow and let out a long breath. “I have no idea what the hell I’m getting myself into with you, Torque. Hell, I don’t even know your actual name. I don’t know anything about you. All I know is I have a weakness for a guy in a leather cut, and it’s probably going to get me hurt, one way or another. Should I walk away?”
A pained look crosses his face like I’ve hit a raw nerve. He turns away from me and starts pacing the floor while breathing heavy. “Fuck! You’re right. This only ends one way for you, Heeley. I was stupid to think…” he trails off and shakes his head even more. I feel like there’s a bigger issue here, something I’m not aware of, I just have no idea what it could be. “Just go… take Ari and Xav. You’ve gotta get out of here before the Andrettis arrive anyway. You’ve gotta leave and don’t come back—”
“Torque.” I step forward reaching out for him.
“Go, Heeley. I won’t tell you again.”
Standing taller, I straighten out my dress and clear my throat as I turn heading for the door. “Just so you know…” I spin around and look at him in the eyes. “I think whatever you’re going through right now…” I raise my eyes to the ceiling, “… I could have helped you through it. Not Torque, but you… the real you, whoever the hell you are.” I turn and head for the door, a deafening silence only mixed with the slight beat of the bass from the music below us greets my ears.
“Rylan… my name is Rylan O’Shea,” he calls out.
I nod without turning back. “Goodbye, Rylan O’Shea.” Upon stepping out the door, my heart races a million miles a minute. I stop for a second trying to gain my equilibrium, and as I start off again, I feel my heart beating faster than the bass of the music below. My heavy feet hit the stairs running, and once I get to the bottom, I notice security guards waiting to escort me out. With a roll of my eyes, I walk back into the party area and observe all the brothers looking like they’re in panic mode.
“Miss Fox, if you’ll accompany us, please?” the security guard asks.
I nod as they both walk with me over to the bar where Ari and Xav are still drinking. The other security guard taps them on the shoulder, whispers something in their ear, and they both nod. Then we’re off again and walking through the crowd toward the exit. I huff and feel like shit for being kicked out of the club. If there’s one consolation at least, I got one kiss, one lasting memory of Rylan ‘Torque’ O’Shea to live on in my mind and dreams.
Now, I need to get on with my life and not think about badass, bad-boy bikers, and get on with university and becoming a doctor.
We step outside the club to a waiting car, and the security guards walk us straight to it. Ari and Xav look at me and sigh. We slide in, and the security guard hands the driver some cash. I screw up my nose, but figure I’ll let Torque pay for this one last thing before I let him go for good. The car pulls off from the curb with a spin of the wheels as I turn back to see Lift hopping on a Harley and taking off behind us as a group of men all wearing smart black pinstriped suits stroll up to the club, gold chains dangling from their necks. I wonder if they’re the Andrettis. I chew on my bottom lip and turn back in my seat knowing it’s not my fight.
Tomorrow’s a brand-new day, and I need to live my life without the hassle of hot bikers even though one is tailing us right now.
“So, what happened when you disappeared with Torque? We want all the juicy gossip,” Ari asks as we pull down the street, the club now officially out of sight.
I’ll tell them the story and then that’s it, I’m moving on with life.
CHAPTER FOUR
TORQUE
One single kiss with Heeley was way more than I could have hoped for. Sure, I’ve kissed other women since the love of my life, Zoey, died. But, I’ve never felt a connection to anyone. Heeley, there’s something about her. She fights me, she argues back, she has spunk and sass, and I really like that about her. But not only that, she’s smart and has drive and determination. She has the need for something more.
When I met her, I thought she merely worked in a froyo bar. But once I got Ace—our tech guru—to dig a little deeper, I found out she was far more complicated. She’s studying to be a doctor of all fucking things. Once I realized she was working to pay her way through college, I knew she was not only feisty and could talk the talk, but would fight for what she wants, for what she believes in. She’s the kind of woman I want and need by my side.
That was until she conveniently reminded me that people by my side get hurt. I was getting lost in the idea that maybe, just maybe, after so long of closing myself off to the world of women that I may have found someone worth opening up to.
But what’s the point?
&
nbsp; When I get close to anyone, the assholes in my life will come after everything I love and tear it to shreds. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk her. So while what we had might have been our first kiss, it was also a kiss goodbye as much as that fucking irks me.
Watching the security feeds, I make sure she’s placed into a waiting car. Lift follows ensuring she’s out of harm’s way and taken care of. Her car takes off as I notice Andretti’s men stepping up to the front of the club. The line out the front has died down significantly now, so they will probably be let through straight away. The security team wouldn’t know the Andrettis from any other random Guido-looking guys, and I need to rectify that.
Right. Time to get my game face on.
Walking over to my desk, I reach into the top drawer and grab a knife. The blade is covered with a sheath as I shove it down the back of my pants. I have my gun on me too but firing a weapon in my club is last-resort shit. If I need to take someone out without causing a scene, a knife will do that job just fine.
Rushing out of the room, I shut the door behind me and head down the stairs to see all my brothers crowding around like they already know what’s going on. Sensei steps up to my side—he’s not only my Enforcer but my best friend. Sensei’s the only Asian in our club. He has a midwest-American accent and was born in Chicago. Though his Japanese lineage is apparently questionable, we’ve never delved deep enough into that part of his life to know. He never talks about it, so we never ask. Sensei’s unusual haircut always has me smiling. Half his head is shaved and covered in tattoos, while the other side falls in long black dreadlocks. His ears are pierced with ear gauges, and his nose has a nose ring through the septum. He is grunge looking for a guy deep into jujitsu and meditation. Sensei’s way of talking, when I first heard him, had me perplexed. You have this grungy guy, who speaks proper English, and carries a suave manner. He’s nothing like you’d expect from a biker. His father made sure he was taught manners, etiquette, and decorum, and it’s something he hasn’t been able to break. Apart from the occasional expletive, he’s a proper gentleman most of the time.
“Pres, they are coming in the club as we speak. How do you want to play this?” Sensei asks.
I screw up my nose and grit my teeth. “Fuck! First things, first. Tremor, get Neala out of here.” Tremor nods grabbing her wrist, and she frowns at him, but he drags her along and out toward the back exit without any backchat. Neala knows how this goes. She’s grown up around the club. She knows when we lock it down, she needs to do precisely what we say.
“Second, we don’t start anything until we figure out what the fuck they want. They may just be here to party.” My brothers all chuckle shaking their heads. “Yeah, I don’t think that either, but keep your eyes open and watch them. We don’t want shit coming down in here. This is our place of business. We don’t need a bad rep following whatever they want. Disperse,” I instruct.
Everyone takes off in different directions as I head off myself looking for Andretti’s main lackey, Alfonso. I move from the VIP area and make my way through the swarm of bodies in the club dancing up a storm to the rhythm of the music, completely oblivious to what’s happening around them.
I spot Alfonso and beeline for him. He’s talking to a bunch of men, club goers, and I raise my brow as I step up to the group. Alfonso scrunches up his face as the club goers take in my club cut and open their eyes wide. “What’s happening here then?”
The partiers shake their heads. “Nothing,” one of them says in defense, and I take in his appearance. He’s big, strong, and definitely looks like he pumps iron at the gym.
I look to Alfonso whose hand is clenched, and I grit my teeth reaching out and slap at his hand. His hand falls open, and some pills drop out. I grunt as the club goers all turn and scamper off without saying a word, and Alfonso chuckles shaking his head as I stand tall and glare at him.
“You coming to my club and trying to sell your drugs, Alfie?” I grunt his name, and he shrugs.
“You came into The Heart of Italy and tried to sell your shit? Fair’s fair, Presidente,” he snaps back as I notice a couple more of Andretti’s men show up to flank him.
Shaking my head. I curl up my lip. “You and your men need to get the fuck out of my club, and never come back before we turn you inside out. You feeling me, Alfie? You get one warning. The only reason I’m not gutting you right now is because this place is packed, and there are way too many witnesses.”
Alfie licks his lips, nodding to his men as Trax and Sensei show up at my side. They stand beside me strong and bold, and we stare Alfie and his men down. They all turn and head for the front of the club. Ace, Vibe, and Chains are by my side soon after, and we walk behind Alfie and his men effectively escorting them from the premises without any drama—this time. Which is actually pretty fucking nice for a change.
While I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, the idea of this club—Neala’s club—being tainted by biker brutality is not something I want nor need.
The four Andrettis leave, and I watch them saunter off down the street. While taking a deep breath, I turn to Chains, my Sergeant at Arms. The man who gets shit done. His sandy blond hair slicked back in a wave over the shaved sides of his head. His neck covered in tattoos, and that ever-present hard look in his eyes harboring the demons of the past.
“Chains, make sure they make it far enough away not to be a hassle. Yeah, brother?”
He nods, signaling to Zane, our other prospect, to flank him as they exit the club. I take a deep breath as we all turn and head back to VIP area. Trax and Sensei either side of me.
“That seemed a little… too easy, don’t you think?” Sensei questions as I continue to glance around the club checking for anything we might have missed.
“Yeah. Got a feeling that might not be the last encounter we have tonight,” Trax cautions when I notice Scratch running back inside with Tremor who’s holding Neala tight. Tears stain her beautiful face as she runs her hands up and down Tremor’s chest like she’s searching for something. When she pulls her hand back, my muscles tense because all I can see is red. My anger flares as Sensei and Trax notice precisely what I’m seeing.
Fear sweeps over me. The crimson blood like a blinking neon light flashing its deathly signal of danger and deception. My skin crawls as we rush forward toward them. Tremor stumbles slightly while Neala holds onto him desperately.
“Ry, you have to help him. We got jumped on our way out by three of Andretti’s men. They were distracting you in here. Tremor tried to get me out of the way. They lunged at me with a knife, but Trem fought them off and got caught in the slashing of blades,” Neala’s weak, broken voice calls out through the beat of the music.
“I saw the commotion on the security feed in your office and ran outside to help. I gutted the assholes trying to take out Tremor and Neala myself. There’s a hell of a mess in the alley, Pres,” Scratch tells me.
I glance to Trax, and he nods once, knowing I don’t need to say anything. He signals to Vibe, and they rush outside to deal with the carnage. I reach out grabbing Neala and wrap my arms around her shoulders to comfort her, while Ace takes hold of Tremor and lifts his shirt showing a stab wound to the side of his stomach.
“Help him, Ry. He saved me. You have to help him… please,” Neala begs.
“He’s one of us, Neala. He’s my brother. He’s family. Of course, we’re gonna help him. Ace, how bad is it?” I ask.
Ace looks down at the wound while Tremor shakes his head.
“I’m fine. I’m sure it’s just a scratch,” Tremor states.
Ace nods in agreement. “You’re gonna be okay. But you’re gonna need sutures at the very least. We need you to go to the hospital, brother. Make sure no organs were nicked.”
Tremor yanks his shirt down, shaking his head. “No. No damn hospitals. Just get Surge to stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”
Neala steps forward placing her hand on his chest and looks into his eyes. She thinks I haven’t noticed the closen
ess between him and her.
I have.
And it annoys the fucking shit out of me.
“Trem, please? It’s my birthday, so you have to do what I ask. Right?”
He weakly smiles at her. “Right,” he replies with a wince.
“Then go to the hospital with Ace just to make sure everything’s okay. Wouldn’t want you bleeding out… not on my birthday.”
Stiffening my shoulders, I flare my nostrils and turn to him. “Not a request, Tremor. You’re going. Get Doctor Kline to be your attending. She knows the drill. Knows not to ask questions. Get the tests, get stitched up, then get back to the clubhouse. We got church that needs attending. The Andrettis think they can come here and distract me, and then take out my sister on her birthday? Well, they have another think coming.”
***
Turning off my engine, the vibration of the motor dulls to a stop, and I take a deep breath reveling in the calmness that riding my bike brings to me. The second the engine stops, it’s like all the tension is back, and the anger and hatred washes right over me.
Neala’s hands unfold from around my waist, and she slides off the side of my bike. Unclipping the strap, she pulls off her helmet. Her hair is drifting from side to side as I step off pulling my helmet from my head and place it on my handlebars, while my brothers ride in and take up their positions in the parking lot.
Gatekeeper slides the gate shut behind Vibe, and I start walking with Neala, Trax, and Sensei toward the clubhouse doors. The smell of the South Branch Chicago River is strong tonight as the clubhouse sits on the dock next to the Damen Silos. The stench of the stagnant water floods the air. Even though the smell can be vile, it somehow still fills me with a sense of home as I pound the pavement toward the giant shed we’ve made our clubhouse.
Surrounding the shed are concrete walls barricading us in. There’s only one way out—a wrought iron fence that’s over seven-foot tall with black, toughened mesh protection which has a one-way shield so we can see out, but no fucker can see in. The door to the clubhouse has two functions. It’s a roller door so we can let trucks and larger shit through if necessary, but in that roller door is another smaller entrance. It’s the one we use frequently. One that opens normally, and the one I’ll be using right now. The club logo sits proudly on the door, and I glance at it as I yank on the door which opens quickly, and I step through into the clubhouse.
