“Yeah. You into muscle cars?”
“I always thought they were cool. What year is it?”
“It’s a ’67 S.S.”
“It’s sexy,” she said, walking over to it.
“I just had it repainted,” I said, following her.
“What color was it before?”
“It was the same color. Black.”
She leaned down and looked into the window. “It’s beautiful. Do you take it out much?”
“Sometimes. It’s fall now, though, so I probably won’t take it out any more this year,” I replied.
“I don’t blame you,” she said turning around. When she noticed how close we were, she slid sideways and moved around me. “Thanks for letting me stay at your place. The fresh air felt great, but I’m so tired. I can’t wait to sleep.”
“I bet. Do you have to work later?” I asked, not even sure if she had a job. All I knew was that she was in college.
She nodded. “Yeah. At six-thirty. In the evening, thank God.”
“Where do you work?”
“I work part-time at Dazzle.”
“The jewelry store?”
Adriana nodded. “My mom owns it. Normally I don’t work Saturday nights, but I promised I’d help her with inventory after the shop closes”
“Huh. I’ve been there, before. Nice stuff. A little pricey, but nice.”
“You pay for quality,” she replied. “My mother prides herself on buying only the best diamonds and gems. She travels all over for them.”
“Interesting. Does she make her own jewelry, too?”
“Yes. She’s been teaching me now, too.”
“Really? That must be interesting.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t have the same passion that she does. Or creativity. Anyway, what about you? Where do you work?”
“You mean when I’m not working for Slammer?”
“Yeah.”
“I do a little carpentry on the side.”
She looked surprised. “Like, as in fixing up houses and stuff?”
“Yeah,” I said, as we stepped outside the garage and began heading toward the house. “Or whatever else needs fixing.”
She stopped abruptly. “Um, it looks like you have company and… they might need some fixing of their own.”
I looked to see what she was staring at and my blood began to boil. Brandy was standing on my porch, holding a tissue and glaring at us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked sharply.
Her face fell and she began to cry.
“Fuck,” I mumbled when I noticed the bruise on her cheek.
“Danny hit me,” she said, raising her chin. “If you didn’t notice.”
I stepped onto the porch. “Yeah, well, what the fuck do you want me to do about it?”
Adriana, who was behind me, gasped at my indifference.
Brandy looked at her. “Who the hell is this?”
“Never mind,” I snapped. “It’s none of your business. Now, get in your car and go home.”
“Trevor, I can’t go home,” she cried, looking at me like I was an idiot. “He kicked me out. I need a fucking place to stay.”
Grinding my teeth, I unlocked the front door and turned to Adriana. “I have some shit to take care of,” I said, trying to soften my voice. “Go inside and make yourself at home.”
“Uh, I can call a cab,” she said, looking a little uncomfortable.
I gave her a reassuring smile. “No cab. Everything is cool, okay? I’ll be in shortly. ”
She nodded.
“Oh, and hey… if you’d like to take a shower, there are towels in the linen closet. Feel free to use whatever you want.”
Brandy wrinkled her nose and smirked. “She should. She smells like puke.”
I turned to her. “Brandy,” I warned, glaring at her. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I’ll be inside,” said Adriana, walking past me. From the look on her face, she was as embarrassed as all hell.
“Who the fuck is she really, Trevor?” said Brandy, after Adriana shut the door.
“Like I said, it’s none of your goddamn business,” I said and pointed toward the street where her car was parked. “Now, take your problems somewhere else. They don’t belong here.”
Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you such an asshole? Don’t you care about me at all?”
I stared at her in disbelief. “I stopped caring the moment I found out you were fucking around on me with your boss, who I assume is now your EX boss. You’re lucky I didn’t beat the fuck out of you when I found out, because you’d have had more than a bruise on your cheek.”
She tilted her head and smiled. “Right. That’s not you.”
“Maybe it should be,” I threatened, never wanting to hit a woman as much as I did at that moment.
She saw through it. “You’re a good man, Trevor. You’d never hit a woman. We both know that.”
I smiled cruelly. “Is that right? Just like I thought I knew you?”
Brandy’s face fell. She tried reaching for me. “Trevor, baby, I’m so sorry –”
I pushed her away. “Don’t you give me that ‘I’m sorry’ shit and don’t you dare fucking test me,” I spat. “Now, if you don’t get off of my property, I’ll call the police and let them do it.”
Her eyes widened. “You call the police. That’s hilarious.”
“Does it look like I’m doing stand-up now?” I whispered angrily, noticing that one of my neighbors’ porches was now lit up.
Brandy let out a ragged sigh. “Okay, fine. But, do you even care why he hit me?”
“Nope.”
She ignored me. “I told him I wanted to get back with you.”
Grunting, I opened the door. “That’s priceless.”
She lurched forward, grabbing onto my leather jacket. “Please, Trevor, forgive me,” she begged, staring up into my eyes. “I made a mistake, baby. I realize that. It was the biggest mistake of my life, but I know that somehow… we can both get past it.”
I removed her hands from my collar and shoved her away. “It’s too late, Brandy, don’t you get it?”
“But I made a mistake,” she sobbed. “I should have never cheated on you. I know that. Can’t you just forgive me?”
I hated seeing a woman cry, especially one I’d once cared so much about. But my pride was still wounded and there was no way I’d be able to ever trust Brandy again. Not after the shit she’d pulled. “Seems to me you didn’t learn your lesson after balling your boss.”
She looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“You cheated on me and then you cheated on Danny, with me. Well, guess what? Now, neither of us want anything to do with your lying ass,” I said, slamming the door in her face.
Chapter Ten
I wasn’t exactly sure who the blond was standing on Trevor’s porch but she certainly didn’t look thrilled to see me. And the comment about me smelling like puke – well, it was probably true, but she didn’t have to point it out. Beaten or not, she was still a bitch.
Sighing, I turned on the light, removed my boots, and caught my first impression of Trevor’s place. From what I could tell, it was a cozy, split-level house that couldn’t have been more than ten years old. It smelled kind of nice, too. Like fresh cedar and lemon. It was a nice surprise, considering I’d expected it to smell more like cigarettes or stale beer, since he was a biker and obviously liked to party.
To the left of the front door, I noticed a pair of Nike tennis shoes, a brown pair of cowboy boots, and a set of steel-toed mountain boots sitting next to a wooden bench. I placed my own boots next to his.
Damn, he has big feet.
Smiling, I walked up the stairs, to the main level, which was obviously a bachelor pad. There was an oversized brown leather sectional, which faced a large television and an impressive stereo and sound system. There was also a large fish tank that took up most of the other wall. Other than that, there wasn’t m
uch thought put into the decor, save for a few candles and a painting of an older model Harley Davidson, which hung over a small fireplace.
Intrigued by the aquarium, I walked over and stared at the colorful fish, which were obviously the saltwater kind. I leaned down and watched a group of clown-fish swim through some rocks, amazed at the sheer size of the tank. I didn’t know a lot about fish, but I knew that a large tank like this wasn’t cheap and needed a lot of maintenance. As I began examining some of the other fish, the front door opened and then seconds later, slammed shut, startling me. I straightened up and met him by the stairs. He looked like he wanted to hurt someone.
“So, is she going to be all right?” I asked, nodding toward the doorway.
He grunted and shook his head. “She was a total cunt to you and yet you still care about her welfare?”
I winced at the word “cunt.” I hated it, but for some reason, it seemed kind of fitting for her. “I don’t know. She just looked so desperate. Like she really needed help.”
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine. She can go to her sister’s or her mom’s for help,” he said, climbing the steps.
“Who is she?” I asked, having a pretty good idea.
“She’s… nobody.”
“Nobody, who visits you in the middle of the night?” I replied.
He sighed and removed his leather jacket. “She used to be my Old Lady. Before she decided she needed to be more than that.”
I stared at his bare chest and muscular arms, wondering why in the hell she’d given all that up. “Her loss though, right?”
Trevor smiled. “That’s what I keep telling myself,” he said, walking closer to me.
I grinned.
“How are you feeling? Still sick to your stomach?”
I shrugged. “A little. I think I just need to sleep.”
He nodded.
“So, you said I could use your shower?” I asked, feeling nervous now that we were alone in his house and he was already half-naked.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, turning toward the hallway. “There’s a shower you can use right through here. I’ll show you.”
“Okay.”
I followed him to the bathroom and he turned on the light.
“Everything you need should be in there – shampoo, conditioner, soap…”
“Thanks,” I said, as he reached inside the linen closet and handed me a thick, blue towel.
He looked down at my clothes. “Oh, yeah. You’ll probably need something clean to wear. I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving me in the bathroom. He returned shortly with a pair of red boxers and a long black Harley Davidson T-shirt. “I don’t know if these will fit,” he said, nodding toward the boxers, “but the T-shirt should be comfortable enough.”
“Thanks,” I replied, taking them from him. I smiled shyly. “You’ve been so nice. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I could help.”
“Me, too,” I said, trying not to stare at his biceps. But it was hard. Not only were they nice but his tattoos were intriguing. “What is that on your upper arm? The face with the empty eyes?”
He looked down at it. “I got that when I was sixteen. It’s supposed to represent a soulless asshole.”
“Your father?”
He chuckled. “No. Me. Back then. I was going through some things. I had a lot of anger issues. Got into a lot of fights. Did some shit I wasn’t proud of.”
“We all did.”
His eyes twinkled. “You like to make up excuses for people. You need to stop doing that.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You think so?”
“Definitely. You’re far too nice.”
“I’ll work on it.”
He smirked. “You have any ink?”
“Tattoos? Me?” I laughed. “No. Not that I don’t want one. Maybe someday.”
“You could start out with something small. Like a heart. Then build from there.”
“I was thinking a skull would be kind of cool. A skull with a rose.”
He grinned. “You like skulls?”
“I like flowers. I just thought the skull would make it look not so… girly.”
“Nothing wrong with being girly,” he said. “But, having a dark side can also be damn sexy. You have one of those?”
“A dark side?”
He gave me a slow grin. “Yeah.”
My cheeks turned pink. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I don’t think you do,” he replied. “But, to tell you the truth, it doesn’t make you any less sexy.”
I could feel my blush deepen.
He suddenly looked like he’d gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. “Sorry. I’d better let you get into the shower so you can get some rest.”
“Thanks. Where is the guestroom?”
“It’s right next to my bedroom,” he said. “Down the hall and to the left. There should be clean sheets on it and the mattress is decent. It’s not as nice as mine, though. So, if you want, I can take the guest bed and you can have my room.”
“No. I’m sure the bed is just fine. Thanks, though.”
Nodding, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “If you change your mind and have a hard time sleeping, you can always sneak into my bed. It’s a king and I pretty much sleep like the dead. I doubt I’d even know you were there.”
I laughed. “Right. I bet you say that to all your female guests.”
He looked serious. “I know what you’ve been through tonight. There’s no way I’d take advantage of you, Adriana. I’m serious.”
I smiled. “I appreciate it. I’ll be fine though. In the guestroom.”
He nodded. “Okay. Well, I’m going to make a phone call, so when you’re done with your shower, feel free to crash. Unless you’re hungry, that is. Would you like something to eat? I was about to make a pizza before I left to pick you up.”
My stomach was empty but food just didn’t sound that appetizing. “No, thanks. I’m just going to go to bed.”
“Okay. Holler if you need anything,” he said, leaving me alone in the bathroom.
“Thanks,” I replied, shutting the door.
I turned around and looked at myself in the mirror. Sure enough, there was dried puke in my hair. Not a lot, but enough to be offensive.
He had to have seen it.
I was too tired to even care. Sighing, I turned on the water, got undressed, and slipped into the shower.
Chapter Eleven
After leaving Adriana, I walked into my bedroom, changed into a pair of sweats, and called Tank back.
“She okay?” he mumbled, answering the phone.
“Yeah. Sorry, brother. Did I wake you?”
“It’s okay. What happened?”
I told him what I knew.
“Fucker must have slipped something into her drink.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I said. “What about Krystal? You think anything made it into hers?”
“No. She was definitely drunk, but coherent. Rode me like I was a goddamn bull. I swear, my balls are sore from all that bouncing around.”
I chuckled.
“I’m serious. The woman was insatiable tonight.”
“Okay, enough about your horny woman and your hairy balls. You’re making me sick.”
He laughed. “So, what do you want to do about this guy?”
“Teach him a fucking lesson.”
“That’s what I thought. We’ll start looking tonight. Obviously, he didn’t get laid. He’ll be sure as shit looking for someone else to molest on a Saturday night.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“What the fuck is it about this date-rape shit? Why can’t they just be fucking men and earn the pussy? It’s more fun that way anyway.”
I stretched out on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s not about the sex. I heard it’s about controlling the victim.”
“Okay, Dr. Phil.”
“Fuck off. It
’s what I heard.”
He chuckled. “I’m just giving you shit. I actually heard that, too. On Oprah.”
I laughed. “You still watch that show, huh?”
“How do you think Dr. Phil got started? Oprah’s a fucking genius. Everything she touches turns to gold.”
“If your old man knew you were watching Oprah,” I said, chuckling, “he’d kick your ass.”
“Fucking tell him and I’ll kick yours.”
“Doesn’t Oprah condemn violence?”
“For you, I’m sure she’d make an exception. Anyway, back to this fucking dirt-bag. You know, he probably won’t hit the same club.”
“Probably not. We’ll get a description and spread out. I’m sure Hopper, Derby, and Jackal wouldn’t mind helping out. We can do it before the card game tomorrow.”
“Agreed. Hell, I think we should round up our entire posse and catch ourselves a rabbit. Feed him to the Raptor. Unless you want to just shoot the guy?”
The thought had entered my mind. “That’s letting him down too easy.”
“True.”
“So, what’s going on with Breaker?” I asked, changing the subject. “Is there going to be any kind of retribution for what happened to Jessica?”
“The Rangers are still standing behind that lying sack of shit.”
“Fuck.”
“You can say that again. The old man is spitting bullets. I’m thinking he’s just going to say ‘fuck it’ and take him out anyway.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t say anything, but I guess she was a virgin to boot.”
I groaned.
“What a way to have your cherry popped, huh?”
“No shit,” I said. “He beat the fuck out of her, too, didn’t he?”
“From what I hear, he knocked her around, pretty good. The old man is so fucking pissed. He’s not going to let this slide.”
“I don’t blame him. That pile of shit needs to be taken the fuck out. Even if he didn’t rape Jessica, he sure as shit is going to assault someone else,” I said, thinking of the way he’d been harassing Adriana earlier.
“He did it. There’s no doubt in my mind, or Pop’s.”
“So, what now?”
“He mentioned contacting The Judge.”
The Judge was a mercenary who didn’t belong to any club that I knew of. He was a discreet mother-fucker who always got the job done, no matter what it was. For a hefty price, though.
Taming The Biker (MC Biker / Bad Boy Romance) Page 20
