Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  It’s a pleasant hour, and I’m glad to talk to someone that isn’t Free. Someone that doesn’t confuse me like he does. She seems genuinely nice, and glad to get to know me. “How about we plan a girl’s day soon? Nothing crazy, but Fish is going to be gone for a while and I know Gracie will need a break from life.”

  “That sounds like fun,” I grin.

  She leaves a few minutes later when her husband, knocks and tells her it’s time to go. I give him a shaky smile and watch as his eyes soften toward me. He looks almost sad, and I wish that I could read him, but I can’t. Once they’re gone, I’m left alone again, in Free’s room.

  I have nothing to do, and my shoulder aches, but I know that sleep won’t come. Walking over to the window again, I stand and just look out. I wonder when life will change for me, when things will get better, when I won’t feel like I’m grasping at sand that continues to fall through my fingers.

  I wonder when I will find happiness.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  FREE

  The wind in my face and the smell of the fresh air around me makes me feel free, and right now that’s what I need. I’m tired of thinking about Gemma, of everyone comparing Whitley to her, of me comparing Whitley to her.

  They are not the same.

  Whitley is stronger, I know that, but there will always be that part of me that’s waiting for something to happen to her and wondering if I really will be able to protect her, or not.

  Stopping in front of my favorite lake, I kill my engine and just stare ahead. My phone rings in my pocket, interrupting my staring contest with the landscape. Without even looking at the Caller ID I answer.

  “Free,” I grunt.

  “Need you to do a run, next week. I meant to talk to you about it earlier, but that didn’t happen,” Snake mutters. It didn’t happen because he was trying to fucking counsel me when I didn’t want or need, him to. “Got too many guys headed down south, need the brothers here to pick up the slack,” he explains like I don’t already fuckin’ know that shit.

  “When and for how long?”

  Snake clears his throat before he explains what he needs from me. “Need you to go to Idaho, pick up a load, then take it to Regina.”

  Looking down at my lap I think about the drive to Idaho, the loading up of the merch and then the drive to Regina. It’s going to be at least a week-long excursion, and that’s if I don’t run into any trouble. I let out an exhale, annoyed that I have to do this shit again.

  Then a thought slams into me, the last time I went to Idaho was when Hayden was kidnapped, I can’t leave Whitley, not unprotected. “You going to have twenty-four-seven protection for Whitley?” I bark.

  Snake clears his throat. “Why? Anyone that knows about her is dead, brother,” Snake explains.

  “You get her protection, or she’s coming with me, I don’t give a fuck either way. She will be protected though,” I demand.

  Snake sighs. “Fine. It’s nothing but a waste of resources, but fuck it,” he grunts.

  “Protecting your vice president’s Old Lady, ain’t a waste of a goddamn thing,” I state.

  Snake snorts but doesn’t fight me anymore. “The run is important, they’ve been waiting for this shit since everything went down. They were one of the stops that was supposed to be made, but it kept getting pushed back,” he explains.

  “I got it handled,” I grunt.

  He clucks his tongue. “Brother, it’s the cops. I’m telling you because I know you hate dealing with them, but I need someone I can trust and someone I know won’t pop the fuck off on them. No matter how deep they’re in our pockets, theirs are a lot goddamn bigger.”

  I groan thinking about dealing with the fuckers and run my hand over my face. “Yeah, it’s cool, I can handle it. As long as you got my woman safe, I’ll do this, no issues.”

  Snake grunts then ends the call. I don’t know why he doesn’t think Whitley needs a man on her, or maybe it’s just the fact that he thinks I’m paranoid, I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. I want what I want, and I’ve worked my ass off for this club, so I goddamn expect it, even if it’s a paranoid request.

  Starting my engine, I turn my bike around and head toward a fast food place for dinner. It doesn’t take me long to grab some burgers and head back to the clubhouse. Earlier this evening I set up some appointments to see a few places in town, tomorrow.

  As small as our town is, there isn’t much to choose from, so I hope Whitley and I can agree on a place to call our own until we can buy something. I know that I don’t want to be on Fish and Crooner’s street. I have enough people in my goddamn business, the last thing I need is them on the same street as me.

  Pulling into the clubhouse parking lot, I quickly park my bike and hop off, heading toward my room where I’m sure Whitley is waiting for me. Walking into the bar, I freeze solid at the sight in front of me.

  Whitley is sitting at the bar, her back to me, but she’s got her head tipped back and her body is shaking in laughter. Dawg is staring at her tits, which are shaking as well, I’m sure. I growl, marching up behind her.

  Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I squeeze a little harder than I probably should. Her entire body freezes, and she slowly turns her head, her surprised face slowly relaxing as she realizes it’s only me. However, she wouldn’t be so fucking relaxed if she knew how goddamn pissed off I am right now.

  “Go to my room,” I growl.

  “Free?”

  I pin her with a glare, releasing her neck but otherwise refusing to speak even a word to her. I stand stock still and I wait. She quickly slides from her bench and hurries toward the room. I watch her ass move beneath her dress. I hope she doesn’t take it off, because I’m going to be fucking her from behind in that dress in just a few minutes.

  “You got a thing for my Old Lady?” I ask, turning to Dawg.

  He smirks. “I got a thing for pretty girls with big tits,” he announces.

  I let out a long growl, two seconds from climbing over the bar top between us and ripping his goddamn head off.

  “You keep your eyes off of my woman. She doesn’t exist for you,” I state.

  Dawg shrugs. “Brother, I can’t control my eyes, and I can’t help but see that you don’t treat her like your woman, more like she’s your slave. You’ve kept her locked up tight, using her body, and ignoring the rest of her. That ain’t no way to live, brother,” he says shaking his head.

  Stomping closer, I step between two barstools and lean across the bar, poking my finger in Dawg’s chest. “What I do or don’t do with my Old Lady ain’t your business, Prospect. Now I’ve had to have this conversation about Whitley too many fucking times with you. You are a prospect and you’ll never get your patch without my vote so watch your fucking step, partner.”

  I hold his gaze, challengingly, and wait for him to turn away. When he finally does, I smirk. Pussy. Turning my back to him, I walk toward my room. But not before DD appears. She smiles up at me, and I wait for her to say or do something inappropriate, but she doesn’t.

  “Hey, Free,” she says. I lift my chin as my response. “I actually wanted to talk to you for a second,” she explains and my eyes narrow on her, as I silently wait. “I just, with all the changes here, I’m thinking about leaving,” she shrugs.

  “Where would you go?” I ask.

  “Talked to Baby when he called, says they could use some fresh talent down in Texas. I think it would be good for me there,” she grins.

  Reaching my free hand up, I cup her cheek. “They’d be lucky to have you, D,” I smile. “But don’t tell me this is because of me, because I got an Old Lady now?” I frown.

  She shakes her head, but I can see the sadness swimming in her eyes. “Just needing a change,” she sadly smiles.

  I feel bad. Not because I have feelings for her, but because I feel like I should. I’ve been fucking DD for years, and it’s obvious she thought it meant more than it did. I feel completely indifferent toward her. I f
eel like a dick, too.

  “You’ll be missed, babe,” I smirk.

  She lifts to her toes and presses her lips to mine, in a chaste kiss. “You ever want more with me, Free you just give a girl a call. Even if you only want me for a night. I’m there,” she winks.

  Thinking about her words, I wonder if I would ever take her up on the offer. Then I remember the woman with my name on her shoulder that’s waiting for me in my room, and I know that I won’t. Whitley has wormed her way inside of me, fucking deep inside.

  WHITLEY

  I watch as she stands on her toes and presses her lips to his. I should turn away, but I don’t. His hand is wrapped around her neck and they whisper to one another, then she walks away. It looked, intimate. I know they’ve been together, and I have no doubt that she likes him and wants to be where I am. I’m no fool, but I also feel like if he wanted her, he’d have her with or without me around.

  He heads toward his room, so I do the same, not wanting him to catch me spying. I don’t know what made me stop and watch him, but I’m glad I did. There was something freeing about seeing them together, something that made me a little more confident in our tumultuous relationship. Though, that doesn’t mean that I’m extremely confident, because I’m assuredly not.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to walk through the door, and it doesn’t surprise me when he strolls in just a few seconds later. He tosses a plastic bag on the bed and lifts his chin.

  “Bought burgers and fries. I’m assuming you already drank something,” Free practically growls.

  “Do you think something was happening between us?” I ask, deciding not to beat around the bush.

  Free smirks, but it’s cocky and I want to slap it off of his face. “Nope,” he says popping his P. “I know nothing happened, except for the fact he was looking at your tits. What I want to know is why you were even out there?”

  I feel like a scolded child, like I did something wrong, when in fact I only went there for a bottle of water. Free’s been gone for hours, and aside from being hungry, I was thirsty. However, I shouldn’t have to explain that to him, I’m an adult, and I am not his child. Pressing my lips together, I clench my fists and hold them in my lap, refusing to answer him.

  “Whitley,” he barks, making me jump.

  Lifting my chin, I narrow my eyes at him. “You’ve been gone for hours. You forgot to fucking water your pet,” I hiss.

  He takes a step back, then shakes his head once. “What?”

  “I was thirsty, you asshole. You just left, what was I supposed to do? Drink from the sink in the bathroom?”

  Free lifts his hand, scrubbing his face with it, then looks at me, his eyes a bit softer than before. I don’t care if he regrets being an asshole, I truly don’t. He can’t take it back, and I’m sure he won’t apologize, so it doesn’t matter.

  “Kitten,” he mutters.

  Shaking my head, I reach for the bag of food. “It’s over. It’s whatever,” I shrug.

  I’m not even hungry anymore, I’m just taking the burgers out to keep busy so that I don’t cry, or scream, or something like that—he’s so frustrating.

  “It’s not whatever,” he murmurs. “Kitten, it’s not good having you here, in this clubhouse.”

  I look down at the food, then back up to him. “I agree. Hopefully we find a place soon,” I smile.

  It’s fake, it’s all fake, but then again isn’t that exactly what we are as well? Fake. I don’t know his real name, I don’t know anything about his past and he’s determined to keep it that way, to keep everything surface level.

  “I saw you and DD,” I blurt out, as I hand him his burger.

  Free freezes, his arm outstretched and his eyes wide. “What do you think you saw?” He takes the burger from me and sits in the chair across from the bed, his eyes watching as he waits for me to continue.

  I shrug, opening up the paper before taking a small bite. “I think I saw her kiss you, and then you talked, and went your separate ways,” I state.

  He nods once as if agreeing with me. “She’s moving clubs, to Texas actually,” he explains.

  “She wanted to say goodbye to you, because she has feelings for you, maybe offer to be only a phone call away?” I ask, raising a brow.

  Free leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out and smirking toward me. I watch as he takes a huge bite of his burger. “Yeah, Kitten. That’s about how it went. Jealous?” he chuckles.

  I take another small bite of my food, then shake my head once. “No, I’m not. If you wanted her, you’d have her. I’m pretty sure this world works similarly to the compound,” I shrug.

  “How’d it work at the compound?” Free asks, his voice dropping a bit.

  I inhale a deep breath. “The leader could have whoever he wanted, no questions asked. His second in command, much of the same, then it trickled down. If you wanted someone’s woman, you asked the rank above you for permission if the man himself didn’t give it, immediately.”

  “They usually gave it immediately, didn’t they?” Free guesses.

  I nod, taking another bite. “They did. It was easier that way. Plus, it didn’t matter who fathered the children, as long as they were children of a man at the compound. Punishments were usually public and sexual, they typically involved one woman and all of the men, depending on the severity.”

  “We are nothing like them,” Free sneers.

  Lifting my chin, I look directly into his eyes. “Yes, you are, just in a different way. Your whores, they have no say in who they fuck, right? And you men are allowed to fuck them, whenever you feel like it. The fact that there’s a woman at home with your mark makes no difference when you walk through the clubhouse doors, nobody will throw morality at you for fucking a whore. In fact, my guess is most of the men with Old Ladies fuck them, and nobody is the wiser.”

  Free makes a growling sound. “I ain’t them, and we are not the other couples. It doesn’t matter what they do. The only thing that matters is what we do, in our relationship.”

  “A relationship where you won’t even tell me your real name?” I ask, arching a brow.

  Free drops his food on the floor and I set mine down as well. He reaches forward, wrapping his hand at the back of my hair and tugs my neck back, forcing me to look up into his eyes.

  “Knock that shit off, Whitley. You’re my Old Lady. I ain’t fuckin’ any whores. We’re moving in together. I’m taking care of you. One day I’ll put a baby inside of you and we’ll raise a fucking family. That’s all you need to know, and that’s all you fucking get,” he growls.

  I try to nod, but his grip on my hair is too tight. “Okay,” I exhale.

  “Goddamn, Kitten, why do you make this so fucking hard?” he breathes.

  Pressing my lips together, I bite the corner of my bottom lip. “I don’t know, Free. I just, I’ve never done this before.”

  He lowers his head, pressing his lips against mine but he doesn’t kiss me, he holds them there. “I know, me either. We will get through all this learning curve shit, Kitten. Swear to fuck, we will.”

  “I wish I were better at it all. I wish I knew what I was doing,” I admit.

  He chuckles, pressing his lips against mine and kissing me for just a short moment. “Me too, Whitley,” he winks, releasing me.

  We don’t mention our discussion, or argument, again. We finish our burgers in silence, then we go to bed. My shoulder aches, but with Free pressed against my back, his thigh between my own, and his lips on my skin, I don’t mind it too much. I’m his—only his. And even if their rules and customs are a bit like the compound, I know that he’s not like those men, he’s mine.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  FREE

  It’s small, but it’s clean. It’ll work. Whitley doesn’t say anything as she looks around the two-bedroom, one-bathroom home. It’s nothing special, normal brown renters carpeting, Formica countertops throughout, and fresh linoleum kitchen floors.

  “Now are you marri
ed?” the landlord asks. She’s about sixty-five, with short dyed bright red hair and shrewd light blue eyes.

  Clearing my throat, I wrap my hand around Whitley’s shoulders and tug her against my side. “We’re engaged, actually,” I smile. It isn’t a lie, she’s mine and we’ll get married I’m sure, eventually.

  The landlord looks Whitley up and down, then moves her eyes over to me. “You don’t match, but what the fuck do I know? I married two of the most wretched men on this earth and they wore suits every fucking day,” she snaps. I cough, trying to hide my laugh. She’s hilarious. A fuckin’ whacko but hilarious. “You want an application?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that would be great,” I grin.

  Whitley doesn’t say anything, she stays completely silent next to me and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one. I’ll ask her if she’s okay, later, but right now I want this done. Whitley needs a place of her own when I’m gone. She needs to start living in society again, to acclimate to the world. She’s a nineteen-year-old woman, with a man at her back, but she hasn’t been in the world since she was a kid living at home with her parents.

  It doesn’t take me long to fill out the application, then I hand the deposit and first month’s rent to my new landlord, in cash, to hold the place. She informs me that if my application is denied, she’ll refund everything but the application fee and then says that I should know by the end of the week.

  I’m grateful it’ll be soon because I’ll be leaving just a few days after that. I want Whitley out of the clubhouse by the time I’m gone, and away from all those horny fucking assholes. We leave the house, and Whitley climbs on the bike behind me, but I don’t go back to the club. Instead, I ride toward town.