by Nicole Snow
Had he gone out to get us food and coffee? At least it meant he was up and about, which hopefully meant dressed, too.
Of course, I had to turn my head and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. There I was, bent over with my ear cocked against the door, worried I couldn't handle a naked man in the next room when I'd just walked away from the latest round of death threats.
Ridiculous. I jerked up, blushing, annoyed with myself for trying to spy on him like an anxious little schoolgirl.
I'd only known him half my adult life, after all. He was a fixture in the distance since the time Huck started wearing his prospect patch, bringing us spare food, giving rides, and doing everything to support a family down on its luck like a good brother in the MC should.
Club life fascinated me. Maybe my more sensible side had done everything in its power to run from the past, forget I ever lived in a trailer with meth addicts down the block, and had to fight to learn everything I knew because the defeated teachers at the run down school we went to stopped caring a long time ago.
I rose above all that. Made myself better. I'd been on track for riches, fame, stability, maybe a good man in a button down shirt and tie with a graduate degree...and then I took that fucking loan from a bloodthirsty shark, and blew my life to pieces.
It always came back to where it started, didn't it? Dust was practically family. My big brother's friend and boss since I'd been old enough to understand what those patches meant, and why that space between my legs began to burn every time I looked at him long enough.
The issue between us – the reason why we'd never be friends or one night stands or even more than that – didn't have anything to do with me being 'too good for him.' The drama it would create in the club with Firefly and everybody else didn't even matter either.
None of it did. I had to keep my distance, screw my head on, and pretend we didn't want to rip each other's clothes off for one simple reason.
He was everything I ran away from.
Just a big, handsome anchor threatening to yank me back to my roots, and that scared the ever loving crap out of me.
“Hey.” His fist banged gently on the door, practically making me jump out of my skin. “Your coffee's getting cold, darlin'. Everything okay in there?”
I held my breath and grabbed the doorknob, tugging it open. My eyebrows went up as soon as I saw him, two mugs in one hand, and dressed...mostly.
“What the hell happened to your shirt?” I said, grudgingly taking the coffee and raising it to my lips.
“Still soaked from last night. I ain't wearing a cloth with holes in it sprouting mildew the whole way home. Having this cut slung over my shoulders will have to do.”
Great. Not only did I have to hang onto him while we took the twists and turns through the mountains, I needed to cling to his naked abs underneath the open leather vest.
“Brought you some biscuits and gravy from the place up the street. Firefly always said you two loved 'em growing up.”
Whatever else I felt, my stomach growled, reminding me that none of this craziness was worth passing up my favorite breakfast.
We sat down on our bed, tucking into our food. This town had to be tiny, judging by the lack of infrastructure and stores glowing through the rain, but somebody here knew how to cook.
“Wow. These just might be the best I've ever had since grandma's.” Remembering her brought a smile to my lips.
“Yeah?” Dust asked, taking another huge bite of his own. “Never knew your granny could still cook when she was around. Firefly said her arthritis got real bad before she passed. Damned fine lady, I met her a couple times before I went into the Navy.”
“Oh, no, she could barely hold her hands steady enough to measure flour by the end. But nobody could stop that woman from fixing her Sunday breakfasts. I think she would've walked over hot coals and broken glass to do it. Best square meal of the week Huck and me had, really, especially after mama couldn't work anymore.”
He nodded. “Here's to breakfast. We might have a reason to see this little town again someday.”
“We?” I asked, taking another big sip of coffee, eyeing him over my cup.
“Sure.” Dust smiled, realizing his mistake, running one hand through the salt and pepper stubble on his chin. “I don't close the door on nothing, darlin'. Maybe that's part of getting older and wiser, who the fuck knows. Truth is, I'm certain I'll be coming through these parts again with my boys when we decide to take a nice slice of Georgia for the club. Always a chance I might come back on my own someday, too, maybe with a lady at my side.”
“Won't be me. Don't get your hopes up, Dusty.” I turned my face to my food, cheeks warming, hating myself for sounding like such a bitch.
“You sure love hiding how you really feel, don't you, darlin'? Far as I'm concerned, we had ourselves a great time on this little getaway, even if I didn't find out what's underneath those bright purple panties you wore to bed.”
More wicked heat rushed straight to my face, licking my cheeks bright red. His hand cupped my shoulder, gradually winding its way down my arm, leaving me covered in goosebumps.
“Don't ever think we don't have an understanding. I know you want it just as bad as I do, but we've both got a hundred reasons it won't happen. It can't. Last time I'm teasing, Hannah. Let's finish up our grub and check the fuck outta here.”
Ugh. Why did I seem so disappointed that this might be the last time today, or ever?
We finished our breakfast in peace, and then I got my stuff together, following him outside. It only took a few minutes to check out before we headed to the parking lot.
It was a warm day for early summer. The humidity in the air started adding an extra curl to my naturally wavy hair in just a few seconds. One more thing I didn't need as I tucked as much as I could into my helmet, slid down on the back seat, and curled my hands around his waist.
“You good?” he asked, just before starting up the engine.
“Yeah, Dusty. For real.”
Like hell I am. I lied through my teeth for about the tenth time since we'd gotten together last night, but it wasn't like I had another option.
We took off into the high mid-day sun, relishing the shade from the trees along the winding roads. Didn't even stop for gas the whole way to the Smokies, his engine purring a reassuring white noise that nearly put me in a trance.
Honestly, I welcomed it. Needed something to forget about his warm skin against my fingertips, slabs of rock hard muscle more built than most men half his age. With a few more years on him, he could've been my father, or at least a solid stand in for my big brother.
Didn't matter whatsoever. My heart craved what it liked, and that desire sizzled every time we took the winding exits or climbed the elevation home, pushing my hands just a little more firmly into his immaculate flesh.
He was a bastard, a killer, a beast from a world I only understood because Dom dragged me into it. None of it stopped me from wanting him, and that steady, constant attraction turned me into a sticky summer mess by the time we were on Knoxville's streets.
We took the long way through town, heading for the outskirts, where I had my big, beautiful home just past the gate. Funny to think Huck and Cora shared it not so long ago, back when they were in trouble, enjoying more passion there than I ever had.
Dust pulled up to the gate before he helped me off, his engine still rumbling, making words difficult. At least, the kind of words I wanted to say, whispers about how fucking hard it was to step away without so much as a goodbye kiss.
“Take care of yourself, darlin'. We'll see each other at the clubhouse or some shit soon enough. If you're ever in a bind again, you've got my number.” He smiled, all southern gentleman behind his smug lips and savage exterior.
“Dusty...” For a second, we stopped and stared, as soon as I said his name.
There was only one way to tell him what I'd wanted to say the last fifty miles home. Fuck it.
I leaned forward, dragging my
fingernails through his short, dark hair, catching the tightest hold I could while I brought my mouth to his.
Forget the lightning when we'd kissed before. This was a hurricane, straight plasma hitting my system and igniting every single nerve. Probably the pent up want, the need coursing through me, the insane, unworkable desires I'd fought like hell to suppress.
It was the knowledge that this couldn't work, however badly we wanted it to. It was our bodies in full on mutiny with our hearts and our heads.
If he'd picked me up, thrown me back on his bike, and driven us to some secluded place, I wouldn't have stopped him.
But he pulled away, a familiar glint fading in his grey eyes like embers dying in burnt charcoal. “Darlin', you need to go. Now. Kiss me like that again, and I'm following you inside.”
We exchanged one last smile before I turned my back, heading through the gate.
If we couldn't do what we really wanted, then at least I could thank him for the ride. I'd given him a real kiss goodbye.
I must've held my breath the whole way through my gate, across the long driveway leading to my home, and didn't let it out until I was inside. Then I collapsed against the wall, my chest rising and falling in shallow waves, rapid as my heartbeat.
We'd just had our last real kiss as a couple never meant to be. It gave me a shred of relief, sure, but it also tangled up my stomach into pure grief now that I was finally alone.
I'd see him again, no doubt about it. But we would never, ever lock lips like that.
It ended today.
I had to let this go, for my good and his. Didn't mean it wouldn't sting like an utter bitch. Worse than the hot, bitter tears sliding down my cheeks, whenever I finally let everything I'd been holding for several hundred miles come pouring out.
Four Weeks Later
My phone rang and I picked it up. Whenever I saw Unavailable on the screen, every hair on my body stood on end. I was probably the only person in the world praying for a telemarketer.
“Hello?” I answered, drawing in a breath.
The man was quiet for the first thirty seconds, before he slowly, angrily cleared his throat. “You got our shit loaded yet, or what?”
“Dom.” Just saying his name turned my blood cold. “I'm not in front of my screen right now. If you want all the technicals, I can take a look. I –“
“Nah, peach, you know I fuckin' don't. I pass all that along to Brandon, who understands what the fuck you're saying when you talk about algorithms and structures. I want you to tell me it's done, and nothing about it's gonna be a problem.”
I bit my tongue to stop everything I wanted to say from coming out. “You know I asked for more guidance when I sent you that text last week. I said there might be a security loophole that's a little beyond my means to figure out. You want this rushed, without giving me the right time and resources? Then I'm telling you mistakes will happen that could put us all at risk.”
“Excuse me, bitch. Are you trying to tell me I'm wrong?”
Obviously, you stupid fucking jackass, I thought, seizing every fiber of willpower I had to keep from mouthing off to a monster.
“No,” I said quietly. “I'm saying I need you to run this by your own technical team, see if maybe they can fix the vulnerability. I don't know how to approach it. I'm stumbling around in the dark.”
“You're putting me on.” Dom paused.
About two tense seconds ticked by before the explosion hit me in the ear, so loud and sudden I had to hold my phone away.
“After everything we've done, you're putting me the fuck on! Probably setting me up for a goddamned fucking sting, thinking I'm a chump!”
My heart went wild, banging against my ribs. I peaked around the corner, pressing the phone to my ear, wondering if he already had his men outside. They could've been waiting for the faintest signal to come crashing through the window and slash my throat.
“Dom, that's a little paranoid, don't you think?” I asked, trying to sound sweet instead of petrified. “What reason would I possibly have for going to the police? I'd lose out on my money, my house, probably wind up in a jail cell right next to you. Besides, my brother's in the Deadly Pistols, and working with cops isn't really in our makeup.”
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Shut up, you lying fucking cunt. I'll have my boys run a check on every fucking file you've sent, every text, every voice mail over the past couple months. If I see anything suspicious – anything at all – you're coming cross country for another face-to-face. Don't bother flying, we'll send somebody for you, and it'll be a one way trip.”
“Go ahead, do it, if it'll make you feel better,” I whispered, like a woman trying to tame a lion preparing to pounce. “I've got nothing to hide. If anything, I'm trying to work with you, figure out how we can hide the routing junk in the app so neither of us gets busted.”
“That's your goddamned problem,” he growled. “You think we loaned you several mil just so you could drop the fucking ball when you got your pretty little head into some coding quagmire you couldn't handle? You oughta be working your little fingers to the bone instead of jerking off those biker fucks you call family. If you don't, every single one of them is dead, and you'll wish you were by the time we get done with you.”
I stood like stone, desperately searching for my happy place. Anything to send my psyche somewhere else before he reduced me to a sobbing, whimpering mess.
“Stop fucking crying. Tell me you'll fix this, peach. Tell me you know exactly what we're doing, and that we didn't make a big mistake wasting all this time, thinking you'd pay us back. If we're not getting our money, we'd might as well settle this shit now, the hard way.”
“I'm on it, Dom. I promise. Whatever it takes. Just...please. Have your team look things over. If they have a better fix than I do, you know I'll put it in. I'll get it right. I'll keep anybody who shouldn't be looking off both our asses, just like we agreed.”
“Yeah, Hannah. Just like that. You've got three days, and not an hour more.”
By the time I realize he killed the call, I'd dropped to my knees. I hovered over the floor, tears splashing the handcrafted tile, lovingly installed to complete my home after I hit my first quarter million week in revenue.
No denying it anymore. I hated this house, this fucking prison, a fancy cell I'd built for myself with the finest materials.
That little trailer Huck and me grew up in didn't seem half bad compared to this. The neighborhood meth creeps never fucked with our place as long as we flew the Pistols flag. And I never needed to install several locks on my bedroom door, a tiny deterrent that still wouldn't be enough to stop them from killing me in my sleep if they really wanted to.
Hell, I'd probably count myself lucky if they did. Dom's style was never quiet. I doubted he understood, much less respected, the fact that I was trying to save both of us from somebody with an eye for app development and an ear to the Feds from noticing a whole lot of damning transactions.
How many weeks had I worked on the fix? It had to be a solid month, except for four days where I wiped my eyes to go to a computer conference in Florida.
Now, I was back in my jail, wishing I could throw my trusty laptop on the counter straight off the deck and into the gardens below.
Knowing I had a few days wasn't going to make me feel better. I couldn't work with so much venom in my system. Fear, hate, and disappointment turned me into a fucking zombie, not a genius.
Wiping my red, angry eyes on my sleeve, I bent down and looked at my phone. I rolled through my contacts, debating whether or not I wanted to bother Huck or Cora. Talking about the baby on the way added a smile to my stressed-to-hell face.
No, not today. They didn't need to hear me breakdown when they told me about a beautiful little niece I might never live to see.
There was another number on my contacts, staring me in the face. Maybe it was finally time to take Dusty up on what he'd said the last time we'd spoken, when he let me off here after that unbelievably tens
e night in Georgia.
If you're ever in a bind again...
His words stuck in my head, one of the few promises any man had ever made me, that I knew wouldn't be broken.
A simple bind didn't begin to describe this slavery. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to tip him off just yet because it would put the club in serious peril.
Still, if that man did nothing else, he'd make me feel better. And right now, feeling like I wasn't about to die counted a whole hell of a lot.
“Hannah? It's been awhile,” he growled, as soon as the phone connected. “Too fuckin' long, darlin'.”
“Yeah.” So long I had to stop myself from spilling my soul through the phone. “Come over,” I told him.
“The fuck? Are you in trouble, woman? Tell me.”
“Nothing you need to worry about, Dusty.” I sighed after a long, tense pause. Another lie. “I want to catch up. I need you.”
“Give me ten.” All he said before the phone clicked dead.
I waited on the ivory painted bench outside my front door, looking across the fireflies dancing in the evening darkness. It wasn't even ten minutes when I heard a motorcycle rumbling just past the front gate.
I punched the code next to my front door to let him in, standing in the doorway while he approached, bringing his Harley and his gorgeous self to my doorstep like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Darlin'...what's going on?” he growled, sweeping me up into his powerful embrace.
In his embrace? Nothing. I was safe there.
His inked, muscular arms had a terrible way of making everything all right. Fire and brimstone could've been raining down around us, and it wouldn't have mattered.
Whatever power Dom and his minions had over me, it was gone like ash, stubbed out in the night the second I had Dusty here. Had him in all his growling, intense, mysteriously masculine glory.
“Just a lot on my plate lately,” I lied. “I'm lonely, Dust.”
“Lonely?” He pulled back, giving me a long, hard look.
