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The Devil's Scars (The Road Devils MC Book 1)

Page 5

by Marysol James


  “So,” Kansas said cheerfully, and she turned to him in relief. “Where do you want everything?”

  “Uh, well.” She pulled herself together. “The crib over here, and the changing table against this wall, next to this shelf.”

  “You already got diapers and everything, I see,” Kansas remarked.

  “Yeah. I picked stuff up this morning.”

  “OK, doll.” Kansas looked around, missed Zoe minutely rolling her eyes as she mentally crossed another square off her Bingo Pet Name score card. “You scoot on out of here, leave all this to us.”

  Despite her earlier resolve to stay the hell away from Wolf’s boys, Zoe lingered. She felt like she should do something, instead of just handing everything over to them. After all, Keira was her responsibility, not theirs, and Zoe wasn’t great at giving up what she felt was her job to do.

  “You want me to help with anything?” she asked. “I’d like to.”

  “Nah, babe,” Jinx said, and this time, Zoe mentally crossed off another square and did a shot. “We got this, like, for real. You relax and when everything’s set up, we’ll call you back in.” His grin was teasing, cocky, drop-dead hot. “You can inspect. See how we are with our hands.”

  She gave him a smile now, a real one, and the three men watched as her cold, closed face just lit up, opened up. God, it looked good on her and to a man, they suddenly cursed Wolf’s warning against taking up with Zee.

  No, none of them were looking for permanent, not even anything close, and according to Wolf, that’s exactly what Zoe wanted and needed. Well, seeing as she was a single woman with a small baby, that shouldn’t be a big surprise, really. Any guy that she got serious about would have to be serious about kids, too. It was the only thing she’d be open to even considering, they figured, so they were all out of the running way back at the starting block.

  “Yeah, OK,” she said now. “Maybe you want something to drink? Coffee? Beer? I can run out to the corner store, grab a six-pack…”

  “We’re good, babe,” Jinx said. “You just go sit down. You’ve gotta be wiped out.”

  Zoe never admitted weakness, but damned if a sit-down didn’t sound good right about now. She’d had two solid days of driving, and all the rushing and running of that morning was now catching up to her. Parking her ass on the sofa for an hour or two sounded almost decadent.

  “If you’re sure,” she said, already sidling over to the door. She knew that they were under strict orders from Wolf to not let her so much as fold a blanket, and she also knew that these men would cut off their own hands before they’d accept her help.

  “We’re sure.” Kansas’ tone was final. “Get that cute little ass out of here, girl.”

  Startled, delighted, happier than she’d been in ages, Zoe threw back her head and laughed. Then she went out to the bright, sunny living room, and subsided on the sofa. In five minutes, she was fast asleep.

  **

  “Zee.”

  Zoe sighed, snuggled deeper into the cushions.

  “Zee… we’re all done.” The tone was gentle but insistent. “Wake up, doll.”

  It was the ‘doll’ that smashed her into wakefulness. Stunned that she’d fallen asleep with three strange men in the house, Zoe’s eyes shot open with a gasp, and she exploded off the sofa with a panicked cry.

  Kansas was almost as startled as she was. He stepped back, hands held up, his dark eyes taking in her shaking.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Hey, it’s OK. Zee… it’s OK. It’s Kansas, honey. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, shit… I fell asleep?”

  “Yeah.” He stayed back, still watching her closely. “You alright now?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.” She ran her hands through her tumbled hair, agitated. “I just – it was a shock.”

  “I get it,” he said softly.

  “Anyway.” She scrambled to change the subject, hoping to lessen the crazy in her behavior. “You’re all done?”

  “Uh-huh. The guys are already outside in the cage. We thought about leaving you to sleep, but I didn’t want you all alone in here with the front door unlocked. This is a good neighborhood, but still. No way we were leaving you like that, and fuck knows, Wolf would kill us dead if we did.”

  She managed a small smile now. “Thanks, Kansas.”

  “Sure.” He moved to the front door. “I know you said you’d be at the bar tonight, but maybe take the night off, huh? You look dead on your feet.”

  Zoe shrugged. “I said I’d drop by to at least meet Scars, and I don’t like going back on my word.”

  “The three of us can vouch for you, doll. You were snoring and drooling less than five minutes ago.”

  She blushed. “Shut up! Was not!”

  “Nah, you weren’t. Actually, you were pretty fucking adorable.”

  Her blush deepened. “Shutuuuuup.”

  Kansas laughed, the sound booming out of that broad chest. “Yeah, Wolf’s bratty kid sister for damn sure.”

  “Bah. Like Wolf can talk about being a brat.”

  Kansas’ eyes twinkled. “I get the feeling that you’re just about the only person on the planet who can sass the man and live.”

  “Yeah. So far.”

  He laughed again, liking her plenty. “So if you want to duck out, we got your six. Don’t worry about anything.”

  “Well…” Zoe hesitated. The temptation to veg out on this amazingly-comfy sofa, eat potato chips, and watch some bad reality show on TV beckoned. When was the last time she’d just sat on her butt for a whole evening? “Well, I’ll see. Play it by ear.”

  “Sure thing.” Kansas opened the door, and she moved to stand next to him on the tiny front porch. “See you around, Zee.”

  “Bye, Kansas.” She gave Jinx and Ice a wave, they waved back from the truck. “Thank the guys for me, OK?”

  “You know it.”

  “Oh, wait up,” she said, suddenly remembering. “What do I owe you for everything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But –”

  “Nothing,” he repeated firmly. “This is from us.”

  She paused. “You mean the club? Wolf will pay you back?”

  “Nope. I mean, this is from us. From me, Jinx and Ice.”

  “You – what?” She gazed up at him, blinking like a moron. “But why?”

  “We want to help you, any way we can, and if you’ll let us. It’s tough being a single Mom. I was raised by one, so I know.”

  “You’re sure?” she said. “Totally sure?”

  “Totally.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes were prickling with tears, and she looked down. “I really – thank you.”

  “Our pleasure, doll.” He winked. “If you come to Satan’s tonight, you’ll let me buy you a drink, right?”

  “No way,” she said. “I buy a drink for you three guys to say thank you. Silver, too.”

  “Deal.” He stepped off the porch now. “Take it easy.”

  “You too.”

  Zoe locked the door behind him, set the alarm, then went into Keira’s bedroom to see how it looked now. What she saw both amazed and humbled her, made her feel sorry for her suspicious and superior attitude towards Wolf’s guys.

  Kansas, Jinx, and Ice hadn’t just assembled the furniture. They’d also made up the crib with a gorgeous mattress cover and sheets, and they’d even tied the bumpers around the bars. They’d put the diapers, baby powder, and cream on the built-in shelves above the changing table. They’d folded the extra sets of sheets, and put them in the closet. The assembled high chair was next to the bedroom door. Everything was calm and orderly and neat.

  But the biggest surprise was hanging over the crib, attached to the raised side-bars: the guys had bought Keira a present. Zoe’s fingers trailed over
the mobile, and she smiled at the brightly-colored flowers and rabbits on it. She wound it up, watched the sunflowers and bunnies spin around, listened to the calming music. Keira was going to love it, and Zoe was deeply touched that these three rough, hard men had bought such a sweet gift for her baby girl.

  She stood and stared at the beautiful bedroom. An ache was starting up in her chest now, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, and it took her a minute to figure out what it was.

  It was an ache to belong somewhere, a deep longing to have a place to call home. And what was a home without people around you, caring for you? These men – these huge, terrifying men with very questionable pasts – had done nothing but care for her all day, and both Wolf and Silver had done the same thing the day before.

  They’d all taken care of her, and Keira too, and Zoe decided that she liked it. She liked it a lot. She looked at the mobile again, made up her mind.

  So, yeah, OK. An hour at the bar and some chatting with the guys was no big deal. Not a big deal at all.

  What the hell. She’d even put on a skirt.

  Chapter Five

  Later that night, Scars glanced around the bar, gauging the mood. So far, so good: the place was packed, the alcohol was flowing, his brothers were pairing off and heading for the back rooms which were exclusively for members of The Road Devils. He saw Jinx head down the hall with the redhead who had a real thing for Wolf – Alyssa, was it? – but since Wolf wasn’t around, she’d make do, he guessed.

  “Another?” Cole set down the beer in front of his VP even as he asked the question.

  “Nah.” Scars shook his head. “Better not.”

  “You’re not on duty tonight, are you?”

  “Nope. But I’m not really in the mood to drink. Just bring me a Coke.”

  Cole shrugged, snagged the beer for himself. “Alright, man.”

  Scars turned to survey the massive room again. He found himself watching a group of women on the dance floor, their moves seductive and sexy as hell. He knew most of them, of course, since they were bar regulars, the kind of women who lived to fuck a biker. Nothing wrong with that, he figured… but it wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to be just another random guy, didn’t want to play musical beds with some chick who’d fucked half his brothers. He wanted more.

  A bit depressed at the shitty odds of him finding what he really wanted in this place, he looked away from the miles of taut flesh on display, and that was when the door opened. He looked over, looked away, looked back. His breath stopped and so did his heart, both just dead in his chest.

  The woman standing there was nobody that Scars had ever laid eyes on before, but holy God, he knew her. He knew her on a cellular level. In his blood. In his bones. In his heart and in his cock. He’d dreamed about her and he’d waited for her. He’d been looking for her forever, and now here she was.

  Just waltzing on into Satan’s Bar.

  Dreams do come true, man.

  **

  Zoe glanced around the bar, trying to spot someone she recognized. She scrambled to recall the faces of the guys she’d met so far – Silver, Kansas, Ice, Jinx – and looked around again, peering through the semi-darkness. Her heart sank; no sign of any of them.

  For a few seconds, she hesitated. Just stood there in the doorway and wavered, thought about turning around and leaving. But Zoe Parish was no goddamn coward, and she’d promised herself that she’d at least show up and meet Wolf’s VP. This kind of thing was important, she knew, so she lifted her chin, and headed over to the bar. If anyone would have a clue where Scars was, it’d be the guys serving up the booze.

  She crossed the room, deftly avoiding the roaming eyes and hands. Suddenly very self-conscious, she tugged her skirt down a bit farther. No good, though – it still hit her just above mid-thigh, and she was showing off acres of long, curvy leg. The skirt was, clearly, a big fucking mistake.

  She got to the bar in one piece, looked around, scooted over to the less-busy side. “Hi,” she said to the guy serving up what looked like shots of Jagger, raising her voice to be heard over the pounding music. “I’m wondering if you can help me?”

  “Sure can, babe,” he drawled at her, his dark eyes stripping her naked, drizzling her with chocolate sauce and eating her up. “What can I do for you?”

  And we have another point for ‘babe’. Bingo. Time to start drinking.

  “I’m looking for Scars,” she said, getting directly to the heart of the matter. “Is he around?”

  Scars almost jumped six feet in the air to hear his name come out of that sexy little mouth. He stood up, caught Cole’s eye.

  “I got this, man,” he said.

  Cole nodded.

  “I’m Scars,” he said to her, moving a bit closer. “You need me for something?”

  Zoe watched as the man who’d been sitting alone at the quieter side of the bar approached her. Her whole body reacted at the sight of him, but the reaction was confused.

  One part of her longed to move forward to meet him, to just keep moving closer until she was pressed up against that powerful chest, because this man? This man was something awesome. His strength just rolled on off him like a tidal wave, and Zoe wasn’t just thinking about his large, tight muscles.

  No, this man had something else, something that she’d never encountered in the whole of her life. A strength of character, of personality, and it was as tangible as his hard, chiseled body. In a way, it was surprising that a man with this kind of awesome natural authority would settle for being VP.

  That was when the second part of her reaction kicked in – and despite being secondary and delayed, this part won, at least for the moment. The urge to back up, to back away. To run and retreat. Because this man? This man looked like nothing but trouble and God knows, Zoe had had enough trouble to last a lifetime. Maybe two.

  His face was the face of a warrior: it was hard, rugged, uncompromising. It was also scarred – scarred badly. The raised flesh running the length of his cheeks wasn’t very shiny, so her trained skin specialist’s eye knew that she was looking at scars from a long time ago. Decades, probably.

  Fighting her body’s insane prompts to run for her goddamn life, she stood her ground, eyeing Wolf’s VP warily. Zoe was a tall woman, but Scars still towered over her, and she tensed up even more as he moved closer. She fully expected him to get into her space, so when he stopped a respectful distance away, she was thrown yet again.

  “Hey,” he said in a voice that could crush asphalt. “You OK?”

  Zoe suddenly realized that she’d been staring at him like a lovesick teenager. She also realized that he still had no clue who the hell she even was. Oh, smooth. She straightened her shoulders, hoped to Christ that her voice came out semi-normal.

  “I’m Zoe.” Oh, good, she sounded like herself. “Wolf said for me to come here and meet you.”

  Scars stared down at her, equal parts horrified and delighted. Zoe Parish, in the very delectable flesh, was standing in front of him, and she looked like the best thing he could ever possibly imagine.

  The thought that he’d be seeing her almost every day was the best news that he’d ever heard, and made him believe that there actually was a God. She was also totally fucking off-limits, since Wolf would skin him alive if he so much as touched one hair on her gorgeous blonde head – which made her nothing but torturous temptation. It also cemented his belief in hell on earth.

  “Oh.” It came out a grunt, and he cleared his throat. “Oh, right. Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  He extended his massive hand, and she took it cautiously. That was when she felt the scars on his hands. Even without looking, just from touching the flesh under her fingertips, she knew now that his scars weren’t from a knife, or glass, or a prison yard fight gone way wrong. These were from burns, bad burns, burns that he’d carried since childhood maybe, and her heart squeezed.
In her years as a tattoo artist, she’d covered up hundreds of scars, but in some ways, the most heartbreaking ones were burns. The stories attached to them were always, always so damn painful.

  “So. Zoe.” Her name in his mouth was sweet. “Welcome back to Denver.”

  “Thanks.” She moved away a bit and he let her go.

  “You – uh. You want a drink?” he asked, gesturing at Cole, who’d been listening and watching all of this with avid interest. “I mean… can I get you a drink?”

  “Oh.” She looked up at Cole too, flicked her glance briefly back to Scars. He was staring at her intently, and she saw that his eyes were an incredible clear blue. Little patches of perfect sky in a heart-achingly damaged face, and all the sweeter and more gorgeous for it. “Oh, no, it’s OK. You don’t have to do that.”

  “Hell, babe, if he won’t, I sure as hell will,” Cole drawled.

  Scars glared daggers of death at the other man, and Cole grinned, liking seeing his VP all gaga over a cute chick from the get-go. It had never happened before, and he was looking forward to yanking Scars’ chain. Just a bit. He stuck out his hand to Zoe. “Cole. Bartender extraordinaire, dance champion, jack-of-all-trades.”

  She cracked a grin at that. “Zoe. Tattoo artist.”

  “Yeah, I know. Wolf’s been singing your praises for years, babe.”

  “He has?” she said, happy to have a reason to still not look at Scars.

  “Sure.” Cole’s eyes sparkled at her, and she saw the lines around them, took in the shocks of gray in his dark hair. It was hard to tell in this light, but he looked older than she’d first taken him to be – closer to forty-five than thirty-five, for sure. “Now. That drink?”

  “Uh. Yeah, OK. Thanks.” She sat on the stool, trying to look relaxed. “What do you suggest?”

  “Shots!” Cole said enthusiastically. “Always shots!”

  “Oh.” Zoe paused. “Well, I’m not really much of a drinker. Shots might actually kill me.”

 

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