by Tess Oliver
At times, it was easy to convince myself that this could end easily. We could just walk out of the compound hand in hand with my grandfather’s blessing and farewell. And just as the notion of having Luke all to myself forever crossed my mind, my grandfather appeared in the distance. At first I breathed a sigh of relief as it seemed he wasn’t heading our direction. But Luke’s whole body tensed next to me as my grandfather turned toward the kitchen.
There was always a slight hitch in his step, an old football injury he’d always claimed. His silver earrings caught the sunlight as he crossed the yard, and he wore the leathery but congenial expression that I liked to see. He so rarely looked friendly anymore, seeing it now made me lower my guard. A mistake.
“Grandpa,” I called before he could start the conversation, “Gracie needs to see a doctor. Her blood pressure is too high.”
His mouth straightened in irritation. “You’ve told me that many times, Angel, but your aunt doesn’t want to see a doctor. And I can’t say that I blame her.”
“So, you’re going to let her make a decision like that? She doesn’t understand the danger,” I pleaded, but I’d already lost his attention. He was staring at Luke.
“So Josh,” it was the first time he’d called Luke by the fake name, and the tone he used was chilling. “I had a friend of mine do a little sniffing around. He could only find three men by the name of Josh Frankfurt. One is dead. One of them lives in Alaska. One is a dentist in California. Are you a dentist, Josh?” He pulled down his bottom lip. “Cause if you are, I’m having a problem with my front teeth.”
“Don’t need to be a dentist to know you’ve shoved too much coke up your nose,” Luke said.
I always marveled at how cool Luke could stay when being faced down by my intimidating grandfather.
Grandpa laughed and nodded in agreement. “Like that sharp tongue of yours. Like a lot of things about you, Son, but I’m getting sick of being lied to.” Grandpa looked at him expectantly as if he thought Luke would spill his guts right then and there, but Luke didn’t say a word. I was confused and slightly upset that he didn’t just tell him his real name was Luke, but there had to have been a good reason he’d kept it to himself.
A few endless, tense seconds followed but then Grandpa laughed. “I’ll figure it out soon enough. Until then, I guess Angel has a play friend.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Luke placed a discrete hand on mine to quiet me.
“We’re all going to Mickey’s Saloon tonight for some beer and pool.” Grandpa looked at Luke. “Had any experience on a bike?”
“I can ride, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Good.”
“He’s staying here with me,” I said confidently.
“You’re going too.” He turned to leave but then stopped. The almost amiable look from moments before had vanished completely. Lately he didn’t even look like the same man I’d known as a kid. He seemed harder and colder with each passing day, and it terrified me. It was entirely possible that he’d always been just as sick as my mom but had just hidden it better. “And do something with your hair and clothes for a change, Angel. I’m tired of you looking as if you just crawled out of three days at Woodstock. I want you to look your best tonight.”
His words stunned me. I had no response. He’d never criticized my appearance or my clothes. I was slowly losing my grandfather, and he was being replaced by an unpredictable asshole. And now I’d brought Luke into my wholly unstable world. Hell, I hadn’t just brought him into it, I’d made him the center of my grandfather’s attention.
My grandfather walked away, and it seemed both Luke and I released the breaths we’d been holding. I glanced over at Luke. He stared straight ahead, and while there were times when I could read his thoughts, this wasn’t one of them.
“I guess if we’re both going it won’t be too bad,” I said.
He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. Truthfully, I wasn’t convinced either. My evil grandfather was up to something. Luke knew it too.
Chapter 4
Luke
There was a light knock on my door. I’d managed to doze off for an hour, and any time I could sleep smoothly for longer than fifteen minutes was like gold. I wondered if my sleep pattern would ever be normal again, or if the haunting urge to stay awake so that Dex would survive was so ingrained now, it would never leave.
Angel walked in. Rather than follow her grandfather’s command to look less Woodstock, she’d gone hardcore hippie with a short mod dress, long black boots and a headband to match.
“I fucking love that dress.” I stepped in front of her and ran my fingers up her bare thigh and beneath the hem of the dress to her panties. “Now take it off.”
She laughed. “I would but the king awaits with his line of noisy chariots.” She handed me a blue bandana. “You’ll need this. It’s a slow, torturous and very dusty ride to the main road.”
“Damn, I thought you were going to ask me to tie you up with it.”
Her eyes sparkled at that suggestion. “I like the way you think, Reno. Maybe later.” She sighed and her mouth turned down. “Are you dreading this as much as I am?”
“More so.” It was obvious Dreygon was up to something, and I had the shitty feeling that he’d asked Angel to pretty up because her intended would be at this, no doubt, sleazy saloon. I’d come dangerously close to telling her about his creepy arranged marriage plans but then had decided against it. It would only upset her, and since there was no way it was going to happen, I couldn’t find a reason to tell her.
We walked toward the massive metal shed that housed the motorcycles. All afternoon I’d imagined myself getting on the bike with Angel tucked securely behind me and riding far away from this place and her grandfather. But the old man wasn’t stupid or careless enough to let me climb on a bike with his granddaughter. I was sure of that.
Gunner, Cash and Jericho were already on their bikes. Candy was behind Gunner. Dreygon motioned me over to an older model Harley in the back of the shed. Angel followed close behind. “This bike is yours . . . for tonight. It only has a half gallon of gas in it in case you had any ideas in your head.” He handed me a helmet. “Don’t want you to break any laws,” he sneered. “Angel,” he shot a disapproving glance at her clothes, “get your helmet. You’ll ride with Cash.”
“Why can’t I ride—”
He raised up a hand to silence her.
“Fine,” she said. She stomped over to the wall and grabbed a helmet. She tied a bandana around the bottom half of her face. Then she climbed behind Cash. I’d never been the jealous type, but seeing her long, bare legs and arms go around Cash made my jaw clench. She was already so tightly tethered to my heart, I hated the thought of any man getting near her. Sometimes I was both shocked and terrified at how strong my feelings for her had become.
The bike vibrated beneath me as we rolled toward the wrought iron gates. Max was staying behind. He waved us through. The open desert landscape spread out in front of us like a welcoming mat to the free world, to my world. Aside from one very erotic afternoon by a small mountain pond, Angel and I had not been outside of the walls since she’d brought me to Dreygon’s compound. I longed to get away from him. I stayed for one reason and one reason only— Angel.
Salty dust penetrated the thin cotton cloth covering my nose and mouth. My eyes burned as we rolled slowly over the sandy path. The sagebrush and shrubs looked completely different and even less inviting under moonlight, but the sky above was littered with stars. There were no city lights to dim them. I could almost taste freedom as my hands gripped the bars of the bike. The distance to the main road made escape from the compound daunting but not impossible, as long as one was motivated enough to attempt it. I was definitely motivated.
Angel’s long hair flowed out behind her as Cash pulled out onto the highway. Once the tires hit smooth asphalt, the urge to grab some throttle hit me. The cold night air cut through my shirt and stung my eyes. It felt pretty
fucking awesome. The only thing missing was Angel’s long legs hugging me from behind.
Roaring along the open road on the bike was a rush, and it was easy to see how people could be readily drawn into the club way of life. Living on the edge and traveling from place to place without true societal shackles had its appeal.
Unfortunately, the trip on the road was short. Dreygon turned his bike off onto a roughly paved driveway, and I rolled down behind him. We pulled the bikes in front of a rundown little building with a half lit sign that read Mick Sal. Two other bikes were parked in front of the place, but, otherwise, the lot was deserted. Three of the four parking lot lights flickered weakly and the fourth had been shattered.
It took me a second to notice that Dreygon and his men had taken a profound interest in the other two bikes. Two guys came out of the bar just as I turned off the engine. There was something about the way the one guy moved that jarred me.
I threw my leg over the seat and walked closer to the others. They’d formed a half circle around the bikes. Angel came up and stood behind me. One of the helmets that hung from the handle bars had the words ‘move the fuck over, cager’ painted on the back. I’d seen the phrase before. And while bikers sometimes referred to car drivers as cagers, this particular message had been locked somewhere in the dark visions surrounding Dex’s death.
I was now doubly thankful for the bandana tied around my face. The two men wore cuts with Bent for Hell patches. My fists were balls of steel, and my body was wound so tightly, one wrong move would have sent me flying toward them.
Jericho looked over at Angel. “Go inside with Candy,” he said sharply. She hesitated. I turned and motioned for her to go. Her blue eyes shined with worry as she glanced back at me. She disappeared inside.
Dreygon looked over at me and grinned. He thought I was ready to rumble with these guys because they were in a rival club. He had no idea my real reason for wanting to tear the flesh from their bones. Having the guy so close, within striking distance, wiped away any caution or reason. I wanted to kill him so badly, I didn’t care if he recognized me and told everyone.
The two men looked plenty scared, but they worked hard to cover it. The guy whose movements I’d recognized reached his hand up and scrubbed his hair back. The back of his hand had been tattooed with the hand of a skeleton. A tattoo I’d seen before, in my nightmares, in the darkest hours of night when the agonizing vision of Dex’s death came back to me. I could hear my pulse in my ears. I flexed my fingers to get the blood flowing again. The murdering asshole kept glancing at me as if something about me bugged him.
“Looks like you boys stepped out of your territory,” Dreygon said as he casually lit a joint.
The other guy spoke up. “Don’t want no trouble, Sharpe. We just stopped for a quick beer. We’re heading back to Reno right now.”
There was a long, tense silence, or at least it was silent to everyone else. My head was filled with a voice urging me to rip them to shreds.
“You’re damn right you’d better be heading the fuck out of here.” Dreygon looked back at me. “What do you say, Boy? Looks like you really want to take a crack at this idiot.”
The guy eyed me suspiciously. “Inviting new people into your club, eh Dreygon? I heard you were desperate to expand. Good luck with that. Bent for Hell is going to be swallowing up this whole territory soon and then you’ll have to trade in the bike for one of those old man classic cars. At least you have a pair of saggy old balls you can hang from the rearview mirror.”
Dreygon faced him, and the guy fidgeted some under his cold glare. “Let’s go inside everyone so these two boys can get back on the road.” Dreygon walked forward and then, without warning, his elbow shot out and flew into the guy’s nose. Blood spurted in every direction. The guy dropped to his knees. Dreygon walked toward the saloon without looking back. Jericho and Gunner followed him.
The fucker was just pushing to his feet as I stepped up to him. I shot my knee into his face to double up on the nose break. He landed flat on his back. Dreygon had stopped in the doorway of the saloon to watch, but this wasn’t for him. This was for Dex. I leaned down over the bloodied asshole. I knew I was taking a chance at being recognized, but I didn’t give a shit.
I pulled the bandana down so he could hear my words clearly. And they were meant only for his ears. “You’d better sleep with one eye open from now on because I’m coming for you.” His eyes bulged over the dark circles that were already forming around his eye sockets.
Cash had remained behind to see that they left. He stared at me as I strolled past him toward the bar.
Angel ran to me as I stepped inside. Rock and roll exploded from the jukebox, and the windows rattled from the sound. Angel looked so fucking hot standing in the center of the dark, grungy bar that I grabbed her to me and kissed her hard. The incident outside had sent adrenaline coursing through my veins, and if we’d been alone, I would have ripped her dress off and fucked her on top of one of the pool tables. She seemed to sense what I was thinking and threw her arms around me as if she had no plans of letting go any time soon. And I was good with that.
She dragged me over to a booth. The bench was hard, sticky and sour smelling like the whole damn place. Tobacco smoke had turned the cracked plaster walls a dingy yellow. The man behind the bar, who I could only surmise was Mickey, was a stout, tough looking guy who looked as if nothing could intimidate him, not even his MC clients. Jericho, Cash and Gunner sat on stools at the counter. Candy had wandered off to talk to someone in the pool hall.
Dreygon pulled up a chair at the booth Angel and I had fallen into, throwing a cold blanket over any plans I’d had of touching her beneath the table. “Hey, Mick,” Dreygon’s voice shot over the music, “hope you pissed in those beers before you served those two assholes.”
Mickey tossed a wet rag over his shoulder and shoved some beers toward Jericho, Gunner and Cash. Then he carried a pitcher of beer and glasses to the table. “They just came in for a drink before heading back on the road. I’ve got to pay my bills somehow, Sharpe. Last thing I can afford to do is turn away paying customers.”
Dreygon lifted a thick gray brow at him and tossed him a twenty. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just keep the beers coming. There are some guys meeting us here, so you’ll make plenty of cash tonight. That way you can keep adding to that stash of porn I know you have back there in your DVD collection.”
Mickey’s shrug made his belly wobble. “Not much else to entertain out here.”
Dreygon returned his attention to me, but he was the last person I wanted to talk to. “You’ve got one hell of a temper.” He glanced over at Gunner. “Gunner has a temper too, but he never puts it to good use. I like what I saw out there.”
Dreygon was convinced I’d hit the asshole because of the club. I let him think it. It could only help. The door opened and a group of bikers walked inside. Dreygon stood from the table to greet them. The oldest man, maybe just ten years younger than Dreygon, wore a president’s badge. There were two guys who looked about the same age as Jericho and one who looked to be in his early thirties. He was the one who eyed Angel as if she was a chocolate covered ice cream. I tensed. Angel took hold of my hand under the table. “Slow down there, killer. I think you’ve already proved yourself enough tonight. These guys are from a local club, The Cruisers.” Angel thought my show outside was part of the act too. “My grandfather wants the two clubs to merge to make it one strong outlaw club under the Bedlam name.”
Her grandfather’s plan was coming all too clear now. But none of it mattered because no one was getting near her, not even the son of the fucking MC president. Feeling ridiculously possessive, I took advantage of our seconds alone to drag my fingers up her thigh. Her long lashes fluttered seductively down over her teal blue eyes. She leaned over and kissed me and pushed my fingers up against her warm pussy. I stroked the silky fabric of her panties, and she moaned against my mouth.
Dreygon’s loud voice chilled the heat between us. “Hey,
Reno,” he’d never used the nickname before. “Do you play pool?” he asked.
“I play.”
Dreygon laid a heavy hand on a shoulder of one of the younger guys. “This is Everett, and he needs someone to play against. Join him.” The man had a talent for morphing a friendly suggestion into a command with just a few words.
I looked over at Angel. She motioned toward the pool room. “You might as well go. Sitting this close to you is just going to be torture anyway.”
I leaned over and kissed her. “Just don’t start anything without me.” I grabbed a beer and slid from the booth, and suddenly it seemed that everyone was watching us.
Angel slid out behind me, seemingly unaware of the attention we’d drawn. “I’m going to buy a glass of wine. This beer tastes awful.” Before I walked out of reach, she took hold of my hand and hopped up on her tiptoes to kiss me. We were still the center of attention, but it didn’t matter. Standing in a crowd of people with Angel was no different than standing alone with her. She was the only person I saw, the only person that mattered. She smiled and wiped some of her lipstick off my bottom lip with her thumb. “I’ll come watch you play in a minute.”
The way my pool partner shuffled behind me toward the table made it was clear he hadn’t really wanted to play. Jericho had found a dark corner and a pretty cocktail waitress and had started his own private party at the back of the room. The wide, unobstructed passageway between the rooms gave me a clear view of the bar area. Angel was leaning over the counter ordering a glass of wine, and it seemed every male in the room, with the exception of her grandfather, watched her. Jealousy had been completely foreign to me. Now it ripped into me with a vengeance.
