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

by Marysol James

  “OK.” Scars was now pretty interested in hearing about the crap. “You gonna tell me how Keira came to you?”

  She dropped those incredible green eyes, played with her almost-empty glass. Scars observed her reluctance with a bit of alarm. There was a story here, and it wasn’t a nice one. He knew that much, and he felt a wave of protectiveness and concern start to swell in his chest.

  “Zoe?”

  She glanced up. “Hmmm?”

  “Can you tell me? I mean… is it OK to talk to me about it?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Alright.” She exhaled. “She’s my sister’s kid.”

  Scars leaned forward. Just a bit. Enough to catch a whiff of her perfume, all sultry and woodsy and warm.

  “Go on,” he said, his voice husky.

  “I took Keira after Hailey… died. Well, after she was murdered.”

  “Oh,” Scars said softly, very sorry to have started this conversation. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” She sucked down the last of her drink, felt the dark rum burn her throat. She told herself that’s why her voice was suddenly thick as she spoke. “Hailey’s ex – Keira’s Dad – killed her. Damn near killed them both, actually, since my sister was nine months pregnant with Keira when Gil stabbed her eleven times in a drug-induced rage.”

  “Motherfucker,” Scars snarled. “He killed a pregnant woman?”

  “He did.” She set her glass down, wishing that it was full to the brim and Coke-free. “Thank Christ the neighbors heard the fight, and came over to check on Hailey after Gil had stormed out. She was barely alive then, but she was conscious and in full-on labor, and she held on long enough for the ambulance guys to deliver Keira.”

  “Did Hailey see her baby?” he asked quietly.

  Zoe glanced at him, and he saw tears shimmering in those clear green eyes before she looked away again. “Yeah. Just for a second. Then she… then Hailey let go. I think – I think that she willed herself to live long enough to see that Keira was OK, and once that was done…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Goddammit.” Scars wanted to take her in his arms right now, wanted to make her stop hurting. “Zoe…”

  “Anyway.” Zoe took a deep breath and collected herself. “I took Keira when she was six days old, and I’ve had her ever since.”

  Scars paused, saw that she wasn’t at all comfortable with his sympathy. He decided to change the topic slightly. “Your parents help you out with Keira?”

  Zoe huffed out a laugh. “Nope. No way.”

  “Because?”

  “Because my alcoholic Dad left when I was thirteen and Hailey was ten, and Mom’s a drunk. I’m not much and I know it, but believe me, I’m the best that little girl’s got.”

  “Why do you say you’re not much?”

  She shrugged, a deceptively casual gesture that didn’t totally hide her pain. “No real education. No real money. No house of my own. I’m a struggling tattoo artist, now working for an MC.”

  “So?” Scars rasped. “Something wrong with any of that?”

  “Maybe not. But I’m not really classy or much of a role model, you know?”

  “Bullshit.” Scars didn’t like her devaluing herself, and he wasn’t about to let that stand. He knew a thing or two about raising kids who kind appeared out of nowhere, from watching his own brother do it with his daughter Cindy, and Scars knew that it was a hard job to do right – maybe one of the hardest jobs out there. “Nothing classier than stepping up and taking that baby, Zoe. Nobody better for that little girl to look up to than the woman who loves her, and keeps her out of the foster care system.”

  Startled, Zoe gazed up at him. “You think?”

  “Yeah. I fucking think.”

  “Oh.” She blinked at his ferocious expression, looked away from the intensity in those incredible eyes. “Well… thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Scars paused. “And why didn’t you tell Wolf all of this right after it happened? I thought you two were tight. Like brother and sister.”

  “We are, but like I said: he was dealing with enough. I knew that if I told him about all of this, he’d be on a plane and in Fargo in a matter of hours, and things would be in jeopardy here.”

  “I’d have handled all of it just fine on his behalf. Believe me.”

  Zoe looked at him, took in the strength and stubbornness of his body and his personality. “I can see that now, but I didn’t know you then.”

  He liked her saying that she didn’t know him then – the implication that she was getting to know him now was hanging out there, and God knows, he wanted her to know him. In more ways than one.

  “And the dickhead?” he asked, still not happy with the vagueness of her answers about the son-of-a-bitch who had killed her sister. “Where is he?”

  “Gil? I really don’t know.”

  “On the run from the law?”

  “He is indeed.”

  “Any sightings?”

  “One, about six months ago. Some tourists said that they saw him in Mexico.”

  “It’s solid info?” he said, ready to get on his motorcycle and track that fucker down personally. “They got a real lead on him?”

  “I have no idea. The cops took it seriously enough at the time, but nothing ever came of it.”

  “Damn.”

  “I know,” Zoe said sadly. “But really, I’ve pushed him out of my mind, mostly. I mean, I’m so, so angry that he may well get away with murdering my little sister, but my priority is Keira. I can’t let what her Dad did play too big of a part in our lives.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “You can?”

  “Sure I can. That baby girl is your daughter now, and that makes her your heart and your breath. You’re gonna do what you gotta do, whatever it takes to do right by her. I can tell that about you.”

  To her absolute horror, Zoe felt tears rising again… but this time, she couldn’t blame the alcohol. Or, actually, maybe she could. She was buzzing and dizzy, and she felt drained and a bit vulnerable right now. This hard, tough man’s gentleness and compassion were a surprise to her, a revelation of sorts: she hadn’t been looking for them when she’d walked into this bar tonight, and she sure as hell hadn’t been expecting them from this glowering biker.

  Scars saw the shine on her cheeks, and this time, he did reach for her. He took her small hand in his large one, and they both jolted at even that small, tender touch. They stared at each other again, with a sense of being aware and wide awake.

  “You OK?” he asked her, his rough fingers wiping the tears away. “Zoe? You good?”

  She gazed up at him, and when she saw the desire burning bright and hot in those eyes, she just froze up. Fear was creeping into her body now, real fear, as she realized that Scars was making a move on her.

  Oh, he wasn’t being super-aggressive about it, to be sure… but no mistake and no doubt, he was touching her for a reason. And that reason was the very reason that she’d almost ended up raped and beaten in the bar back room – it was the same reason that she’d left Denver all those years ago, without regret or even a look back.

  It was the reason that she didn’t trust men, and most certainly not men like him.

  It felt damn good, though… it felt so damn good. He was touching her gently, carefully, and more than anything else going on here, that confused her the most. How could a man with that face and that body be gentle, be careful?

  He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

  “Yeah. I’m OK.” In one movement and with great effort, Zoe pulled away from that amazing touch. She stood up a bit unsteadily, feeling like her whole world had just tilted. “I’m going to go and clean up.”

  Scars stood up too, and now that delicious, disturbing something else was back, big-time. It washed
over her in slow, deliberate waves, and she was suddenly terrified that she was going to go under its relentless, pulsing strength.

  That she was going to go under him. Under that body. Under all that heat and muscle.

  In this moment, she knew – knew with everything inside of her – that despite her fear and her past, Scars Innis had the power to take her down to the ground. And the truth was, she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

  Time to flee, take a breather, get her head together before she touched him. If she did that – if she got her hands and lips on his face and body – then she’d be lost. She knew that for damn sure.

  “I’ll be right back,” she blurted. “I want to wash my face.”

  “Bathroom’s that way,” he said, but she was already off. She remembered where the bathroom was, of course. Time hadn’t erased nearly enough from her memory, and the layout of this bar was as fresh in her mind today as it had been six years before.

  Zoe bolted to the ladies’ room, ducked inside. Thank Christ a stall was empty, and she almost dove into it and locked the door behind her. Then she sat on the toilet seat, buried her face in her hands, and shook.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  What the hell was wrong with her, anyway? She knew better than to think and feel about Scars what she was thinking and feeling about him. She knew what he was; she knew who he was. She knew that he wasn’t what she needed or wanted; she knew that he’d never, ever be able to be a safe, steady presence in her life, and most definitely not in Keira’s.

  Scars Innis was VP to an MC, which made him raw and risky. He was nothing but danger and darkness, and with every brain cell that she possessed, Zoe knew that.

  And yet…

  He called to her somehow, called to her like no man ever had in her life before. He called to her in ways and places that she’d long ago pushed aside and denied.

  Dealing with Hailey’s brutal murder, figuring out how the hell to raise a baby all alone, working her ass off to try and keep a roof over their heads and food on the table… these things had been her focus for a while now, and they’d keep being her focus for the foreseeable future. And she was good with all of that. She really was.

  And yet… and yet…

  She was lonely, she finally admitted to herself as she sat there. More than that, she was bone-tired from fighting and struggling. She’d been on her own for so long now, and she was exhausted. She wanted to lie down, just for a little while, and she wanted a large, solid body there when she did – and not just any body. She wanted Scars’ body… only his.

  She wanted Scars to be there with her when she let go and let loose. She wanted his arms around her, his lips on hers, his hot breath in her ear. She wanted his hands moving over her curves, his cock driving deep inside her as she trembled and tumbled into oblivion.

  She wanted Scars Innis for herself, wanted everything that a man like him could offer her, no matter how temporary or limited.

  Even for just one night, she wanted it.

  She wanted him.

  To hell with him being in an MC. To hell with being just one of the many women to get in to bed with him. To hell with thinking about anything beyond the next hour or two.

  A tiny part of her brain slammed on the brakes right about then, asked her if she was really going to be safe with him. This was a big question, not one to be taken lightly or shaken off, just because she was lusting after a devastatingly sexy man. This was the question… the only one where the answer truly mattered, in the end.

  The truth was that Scars was – to all intents and purposes – a stranger. Oh sure, Wolf had talked about him quite a bit, and Zoe knew that her best friend thought the world of Scars. Said over and over that he was a straight-up, honest guy, one who was hard-working and loyal. One that Wolf trusted with his own life, and with the life of his MC members.

  Scars was, after all, the man that Wolf had tapped to be his VP… that wasn’t an honor that was bestowed lightly or randomly or on a whim. If Wolf had seen something in Scars that inspired that kind of confidence and faith, then Zoe was prepared to think well of Scars just based on that.

  And that was what made up her mind at last: if Wolf trusted Scars, then so could she, so would she. She’d trust him with her body and its needs, just for one night. Just that, nothing else, nothing more. Nothing of her, really.

  No, he wasn’t a ‘forever’ kind of guy… but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Scars wasn’t going to hurt her, not for anything. He knew what Zoe meant to Wolf, and there was no way that he’d lay crude or violent hands on her. If he did, Wolf would kill him without batting an eyelash, bond of brothers be damned.

  Zoe took a deep breath, got to her feet. Her shaking had stopped as soon as she’d faced and acknowledged her own desires, and she unlocked the door and walked over to the sinks. She washed her hands, patted the cool water on her flushed cheeks and around her eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror for a few seconds, asking herself if she was going to be OK with this… if she could really do this.

  If she could be with Scars, just for one night. If, after it was all over, she could pull away and walk away from that body, from those lips.

  From those eyes.

  He could be with her just this once, she knew that for sure. Hell, she was sure that he was more than capable of banging her with great enthusiasm – and hopefully great skill – in the back room, sending her home to bed, and then picking up some other chick within moments of Zoe’s ass heading out the bar door. He may well have been a good man in most ways, but he was a womanizing bastard the way that Wolf was, and she knew that damn good and well.

  And that worked for her, if she were being honest with herself. She wasn’t in any position to be with any guy quite yet – not even a decent guy – so why not just enjoy some safe, consensual, strings-free sex? If she did this with no expectations and went in with her eyes wide open about Scars not wanting more from her, then it would just be a bit of fun. It’d be a fantasy. It’d be meaningless.

  Yeah, she could do meaningless. Just this once, before she got back to her real life. Back to her non-fantastical, non-fantastic reality.

  Her mind made up, she turned and walked out into the hallway, ready to go back to the bar and respond to any signal that Scars sent out. And she stopped dead in her tracks.

  He was standing right outside the bathroom, leaning up against the opposite wall. Massive arms crossed, those eyes so blue and bold, his dark-brown hair tousled and falling over his forehead. His broad shoulders looked even wider in his leather cut, his scarred face looked even more fierce in the semi-darkness.

  He was just standing there, all casual in well-worn jeans and a tight black t-shirt; just standing there, all sexy and smoldering. Just waiting.

  Waiting for her.

  “I wanted to check on you,” he said, his voice dark and rough. “You OK, baby?”

  It was him calling her baby for the very first time that did it, in the end.

  Zoe took two breaths and then – before she could change her mind, before she could start to feel afraid, before she could talk herself out of any of this insanity – she moved to him.

  Scars uncrossed his arms, and Zoe just stepped on into them like she’d been born to be there. She pressed herself against his large frame, clutched his t-shirt between her fingers, lifted herself up on her tip-toes.

  And she kissed him.

  Chapter Six

  Scars’ response was immediate. Powerful. Passionate.

  He wrapped those huge, scarred arms around her, and he kissed her like she was the last woman he’d ever want to be close to, the last one he’d ever want to be with. Zero hesitation, zero holding back.

  And God, his kisses were something else. Zoe had known her fair share of men in her life – maybe more than her fair share, because she’d been a bit wild in her teenaged years –
but this man blew them all away. Left them in the dirt and the dust.

  He kissed her like he was starved for her, like he was parched for her. Like he drew his air from her parted lips, like he drew life from her breath.

  He kissed her like she was his.

  She’d never been kissed this way, like she was being claimed. She liked it. She liked it a hell of a lot.

  Scars broke away now, stared down at her intently. Those eyes were staring past her skin, past her bones, all the way to her core. He was silent, still, and all the passion she’d felt radiating from him a minute ago was gone.

  “What’s the matter?” she said, suddenly totally terrified that she’d gotten him all wrong. “You don’t – don’t you want to? Be with me?”

  “Fuck, baby… of course I want to be with you.” He caressed the nape of her neck with gentle fingers. “Hell, it’s all I want to do. Believe me.”

  She relaxed, but still felt confused. “OK… it’s just that you look a bit unsure.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” He kissed her, and it was like a little point of emphasis to his words. “I’m as sure as sure can be, Zoe. I’m just checking in with you.”

  “Oh,” she said, unaccountably touched that the scarred warrior had a bit of a gentleman side to him. “I’m good. Really good.”

  “Are you now?” he murmured. “Let’s go see about that, huh?”

  Her stomach jumped. Scars took her hand, tugged her down the hallway to the back rooms that she recalled the MC used for all kinds of activities, from private meetings to naps to sex. Her heartbeat sped up, double-time, triple-time, and she prayed like crazy that Scars didn’t stop in front of…

  “This one,” he said, stopping. “I think it’s empty.”

  Before she could push past her terror to say one word, he swung the door open, pulled her inside.