by Debra Kayn
Gunner, Stache, Johnson, and Bear pulled up into the overgrown yard. Cam went into the house, pulled out a case of beer from the fridge, and went back outside. The men met him on the porch.
"That's what I need." Stache opened the carton and passed everyone a can. "I quit drinking two hours ago."
"That's your problem." Bear popped the top. "Drink up, and maybe it'll get rid of the asshole that woke me up this morning."
"A man shouldn't go without beer and women." Stache wiped the edges of his mustache. "When I see Jessie, I'm going to spank her ass for leaving my bed before the damn sun came up."
Johnson choked on his beer. Gunner slapped Johnson's back. "Jesus...maybe you two should rent the same house. It'd make it easier for Jessie."
"What are you talking about?" Stache glared.
"Johnson kicked out Jessie when I rode by his house to pick him up." Gunner grinned. "Guess that explains why your bed was cold."
"Motherfucker," Stache mumbled. "Next time you think to take a woman away from me, I'll kill you."
"You can try." Johnson cupped his crotch. "Maybe we should let Jessie decide who made her happier."
Cam tossed the empty beer can and reached for another. He no sooner opened the drink and Christina stepped onto the porch.
"Morning." Bear dipped his chin.
"Morning." Christina glanced at Cam and then the other Moroad men, smiled, and walked into the house.
The door shut softly behind her. Gunner whistled low. "Damn, she's happy this morning."
"Looks like Cam put a smile on her face." Stache grinned. "It's about time."
"Shut the fuck up." Cam downed half of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "If you don't have anything to do except check out my woman, why don't you see if you can get the lawnmower running and cut down the weeds in the yard. It's a damn fire hazard around here the way you guys party at night."
The men headed to the old travel trailer, leaving Cam on the porch. He shook his head, wondering what a woman raised with kindness, a tree fort, and love still had to wish for. Chores never ended, motorcycles broke down, and freedom hovered on the edge, waiting for someone to rip it away.
The skin on his neck prickled. He turned toward the house and found Christina standing in the window, eyes on him. His chest ached for the connection she stubbornly refused to acknowledge between them. For a little while this morning, she'd come outside and enjoyed living here with him. She relaxed and accepted the good things he could provide. While what he had to share wasn't much, it was all he had to give.
Christina stepped back into the shadows and he lost her. He picked up the empty beer can on the ground and carried it over to the garbage. He'd help clean the yard and maybe tomorrow, Christina would spend more time outside with him.
Chapter Fifteen
A river of blood ran out from behind the counter. Christina stared at the puddle growing wider and screamed for her dad. Scared to look behind the cashiers stand, she yelled for her mom.
No one answered her.
Dropping her purse, she inched her way around the mess, careful not to get any blood on her. At the end of the counter, she stepped over the cartons of cigarettes spilled on the floor and screamed, falling to her knees beside her dad. She gagged at the warm stench suffocating her.
One look at her mom, lying beside her dad, and she knew they were both gone. Her mom's beautiful smile was missing, along with her nose and the side of her head. She tried to stand, slipped on the blood, and hit her elbow on the open cash register.
A looming man stood over her. She scrambled backward on her butt, her hands spreading the blood over the floor.
The Latino man snarled, leaning down into her face. His fierce, angry eyes stared down at her. He spit in her face.
She cried out, rolling in the blood to get away. Her legs swept out from under her and she struggled to find traction on the slick floor. "No, please, no..."
He grabbed her hair, hauling her to her feet. Her scalp stung and she cried out.
Sirens deafened her to the pain. Then the man's hold disappeared and she fell again to the floor. From her position, she watched the man run outside and jump into a black car. The moment he was gone, she crawled over to her dad and threw herself over his chest. She had to save him. She had to save her mom. They weren't dead. They weren't.
She had to save them.
"Christina, wake up," a man's voice called to her.
She struggled harder, angry and unable to move her hands. She had to save her parents before they lost too much blood.
"Fuck," the man said.
Her body lifted. Her eyes came open and she threw her body back and forth, fighting the only way she could with her lack of mobility.
"You're okay." The comforting voice boosted her efforts.
One arm loosened and she reached out, hitting and clawing, to get away. She wanted to run to the man who called her. Somehow, she knew he'd keep her safe from the bad man and save her parents.
"Shit." The man grunted and flipped her to her side.
Her feet hit the ground. She propelled herself forward, pummeling the solid wall. "No, no, no."
"Christina," the man said, gruff and scary.
Her gaze traveled up the jean vest, the beard, the full lips—now thinned and firm. Cam.
A shudder of relief spiraled through her core and her knees failed to hold her weight.
"I've got you." Cam held her against him, stroking her back.
She laid her cheek against his chest. Shaken from her terror, she latched on to the comfort he offered, willing herself to forget. It'd been eight years since she'd walked in and found her parents dead. Every time she dreamed of that morning, years disappeared until she was right back there, standing in the store staring down at her parents' bloody bodies.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Cam asked.
She shook her head and held on to him tighter. Since Cam started sleeping with her last week, she'd stopped dreaming. She should never have crawled into bed before dinner to rest her eyes. God, she knew better.
Cam picked her up and sat on the bed, holding her on his lap. "You fight in your sleep, because you're wrapped up tighter than a mummy in the blanket. Tonight, we're sharing a blanket. Nothing is going to hold you down."
She curled against him, squeezing his thick, solid chest. "I can't sleep without being covered."
"Covered is one thing. What you're doing is for protection. You don't have to protect yourself from me, and you'll learn no one is going to hurt you." He kissed the top of her head. "I'd kill anyone who tried."
She leaned her head back. "I wouldn't want you to do that."
His gaze warmed and landed on her mouth. He whispered, "Doesn't matter what you want. It's what I'd do."
"Do you have to leave tonight?" Still shaky after her dream, she wanted him to stay home.
The evenings they spent together, even when the other Moroad members hung around, put her at ease. She enjoyed the conversations, the familiar belonging, and the way Cam claimed her. There were many things she didn't enjoy, but lately even the bad things were few.
The men still eyed her as if they didn't trust her with their president. The women remained friendly with her, but she could feel the tension coming off them of having to watch what they say around her. There were secrets and activities going on in front of her that she suspected were illegal and made her uncomfortable.
"I have to take the women to Silver Girls. I'll stay for the show to protect them and then give them a ride home when it's over," he said.
She pushed against him, but he held her tight. "I want to get up."
He raised his hand and tilted her chin. "You asked and now you're back to being a fucking stick around me. What's got you pissed at the thought of me going to town tonight?"
"Go, if that's what you want to do." She fingered the healed wound on her forehead, wanting to change the subject. "My head itches."
"Leave your forehead alone."
He grabbed her wrist and set her hand back in her lap, chuckling.
She glared.
He laughed harder.
"What?" she snapped.
He set her on her feet and stood. "Get your shoes on. You're coming with me tonight."
"To a strip club?" She shook her head. "No, thanks."
"You're going." He walked across the room. "You can go on the back of my bike, and I'll have one of the other guys come along, so we have enough men to cover the other women. You haven't been out to have fun since you got here."
"Since you kidnapped me," she muttered.
"You're going."
"That's not a place a woman would go," she said.
He lifted his brow. "It's full of women. Biker women. You'll fit right in."
He left her standing in the room. Her heart squeezed in pleasure. If she were with him, the other women wouldn't be. She ignored the reasons why she was jealous of the others, and grabbed a pair of socks and her shoes. Before she left the room, she glanced down at her shirt. The plain Tee was okay for lounging around the house, but she was going out in public. She didn't want to give Cam a reason not to take her out again.
Her clothes took up half the closet, and even though her wardrobe was small, Cam's clothes barely took up any space. He continued to live as if he'd go back to prison at any moment.
"Get a move on," Cam shouted from the other room.
She grabbed a red button sleeveless shirt and changed her top. "I'm coming."
Her heart raced. Her skin, flushed with warmth, heated the rest of her body. She hurried out of the room, ran into the bathroom, and brushed her hair and teeth. The last time she'd gone out with others was when she was eighteen years old. She used to love walking around town, hanging out at the diner eating a large plate of fries with her friends.
"I'm ready." She walked into the living room and stopped.
Cam stared at her breasts. His jaw loosened and his tongue came out and swiped his bottom lip. She glanced down at the front of her and cringed. She'd left half her buttons undone. Her fingers shook, and she struggled with the small holes.
Cam approached her, taking her hands off her shirt. Her nipples hardened in pleasure and she gasped, losing her breath.
"I'll do it," he mumbled.
"I can do it."
"I want to do it." His voice lowered and she shivered.
His fingers, which she thought would be clumsy and awkward because of their size, skillfully slid the button into the hole and moved up to the next one, which happened to be the button between her breasts. She exhaled, and the movement pulled her shirt away from her body letting him see straight down her shirt to her breasts pushing out of her plain nude colored bra.
He worked the button, and to her surprise, moved up another button. "You're a beautiful woman, and soon I'll want to see every part of your body. That doesn't mean I want any other man looking at you tonight."
"Cam..." She inhaled when he finished. "I'm not sure—"
"Time to go." He scooped up her hand and grabbed his long sleeved jean jacket with all the patches on the way out.
Never having been on a motorcycle before, she stood beside his bike and let him put the coat on her and roll up the sleeves. He borrowed a helmet from Gunner and fastened it on her head. Then he left her side and got on the bike. She stood beside him as the engine roared to life, along with her stomach.
He reached down behind him and flipped a foot peg, repeating the move on the other side. "Put your left foot on and step up."
She nodded, following his directions. The whole process was easier than it looked.
"You're going to have to wrap your arms around my waist and hold on. When I turn, lean in the same direction the bike is tilting. Don't panic and lean the other way."
She wrapped her arms around him, barely catching her fingers because of his girth. She tightened her hold, snuggling against his back. She caught his gaze in the mirror attached to the handlebar. He winked, and she hid her smile behind his shoulder.
"Gunner...we'll meet you in town after you and the others pick up the women." Cam started the engine.
Her whole body vibrated to life. In the position she was in, she was closer to him than she'd ever been. The noise and pulsations came through him and flowed through her body.
Settled behind him, she'd found a safe zone. He couldn't touch her or grab her, and yet she plastered every part of her body against him.
She liked sitting behind him on the motorcycle. A lot.
For the next twenty minutes during the ride, she let herself stop thinking of what her actions meant and gave herself permission to soak in the moment. Perched precariously on the back of the seat, she squeezed her arms around his waist, knowing he wouldn't let her fall and thrilled at letting go of her own discomfort to rely on him.
She couldn't say she loved the sensation of riding the wind or the scary corners that made her clutch onto Cam tighter, but she enjoyed the freedom of getting out of Cam's house and the prospect of doing something she'd never done before.
In town, she walked into the backdoor of Silver Girls on legs that continued to vibrate from the motorcycle ride. She squeezed Cam's possessive hold on her hand. The loud music, the mostly male crowd high on testosterone, and the knowledge everyone came to watch women strip off their clothes overwhelmed her. She hung back a step and let Cam shelter her from the stares. Suddenly self-conscious, she wondered if any of the strangers knew how she came to be with Cam.
Her gaze collided with Sheriff Colby. His brows lowered in confusion at seeing her here, or maybe he was perplexed to find her standing with Cam. She groaned. While doing her job, she had many interactions with the sheriff when it came to the safety of the children and support in the courtroom.
Cam tucked her against his side. "What's wrong?"
Placed between him and Gunner, she leaned against the back wall and glanced at Cam. "The sheriff's here."
"So?"
She leaned against him. "He knows me. He'll ask why I'm not working in the county office anymore."
"There's nothing to tell him. You quit. There's no law against anything you've done." Cam put his arm around her shoulders and lowered his head. "You're here with me. I'll take care of you."
If the sheriff found out Cam kept her at the house against her will, he'd be back in prison faster than he could ride away. Acid burned the back of her throat and she breathed through her nose. She didn't want him to get in trouble. Sure, she didn't like the way he'd taken her and forced her out of her apartment or to quit her job, but the thought of going back to a lonely life wasn't something she looked forward to either. Until she could figure out what she was feeling for Cam and his real purpose of wanting her, she wanted to stay with him.
"Oh, God," she muttered to herself.
What was she thinking? Could she really make a relationship work with Cam?
Sheriff Colby approached her, nodded at Cam, Gunner, and then focused on her. "Hello, Christina."
"Sheriff," she said, extending her arm.
He shook her hand. "I haven't seen you here before, or with the Moroad MC."
"Since when is it the sheriff's duty to know where Christina is every second of the day?" Cam said his voice low and full of warning.
Sheriff Colby stood straighter, hooked his hand on his gun belt, and smiled tightly. "Just concerned, considering I've heard she quit her job and moved out of her apartment."
Christina fisted the back of Cam's vest, wanting him to back off before he pissed off the sheriff. "I had the thought of changing career paths and the timing was right. I only had a couple children left on my caseload. That's all."
That's all? She was crazy. Her lies rolled off her tongue and sounded foreign. Her face burned. Now that she'd lied, she'd dug herself into a hole. The sheriff would never believe the truth if she came forward. He'd haul her off to a mental hospital if she told him Cam kidnapped her and threatened her life. Her heart raced and she hung on Cam to stay still. Antsy
with nerves, she wanted to move, wanted to run, wanted to scream. She needed someone to tell her she wasn't losing her common sense. She knew right from wrong. What she had with Cam was wrong in so many ways she questioned her own thinking. She feared she'd accepted her new lifestyle, because she didn't want to tell the sheriff the truth.
The sheriff nodded. "The county will miss you, but I wish you well wherever you end up."
"Thank you," she said, her face heating over the lie.
Thankfully, the lights dimmed at that moment and the sheriff walked away and sat at a table in the back of the room. She stared out at the dancers walking onto the floor. They all faced away from her, but she recognized Katie, Lola, and Jessie.
Cam's arm remained around her. Everyone's attention went to the entertainment, and she used the time to slow her rapid heartbeat and breathe. Cam was wrong when he said there would be women here. There were dancers and men watching the dancers.
The only two normal women sat at the table with the sheriff near a small mobile bar. Lilly, the owner of Silver Girls, talked with a pretty woman with high cheekbones and gorgeous dark hair. Christina scooted closer to Cam. She'd talked with Lilly before during the yearly fundraiser for the children's society at Christmas time. She belonged to one of the men from Bantorus Motorcycle Club, and always went out of her way to talk to Christina.
Any other time, she would've pretended not to see Lilly, because it was easier to keep her distance. Now she had an urge to talk with Lilly to find out if belonging to a biker was always stressful and impossible. But, she wouldn't go over there, not with the crowd, and definitely not when Lilly was around strangers.
Christina glanced at the men lining the back wall diagonally from her. She leaned her shoulder against Cam. The bikers wore leather vests, patches, and the same stoic expression Cam and Gunner wore in public. She gazed in the opposite direction and found the dancers entertaining the customers.
Caught up in the music, the girls danced and performed. She tapped her foot to the beat. The Silver Girls endless energy captivated her. The show was much more about artistic talent than watching the girls go topless and dance around in G-strings like the Moroad women wore in Cam's yard when the bikers called for a party.
