by Debra Kayn
Twyla had mentioned Big, and another member had approached her at work, so he knew they were around.
He only had to bide his time.
Missoula was Tarkio territory. Only Big and two or three members could ride into town. They wouldn't chance bringing the whole club.
He lit a cigarette. If he called their plan right, they'd be evenly matched. Aaron and Frank were in sight of the restaurant and out of sight of anyone looking. The three of them could take down at least a dozen Cusclan members before losing ground. By then, news would travel in Missoula, and other Tarkio members would join.
He was confident on his own turf.
Planting Twyla with him would end the threat sooner by bringing Big to him.
Twyla moved in front of the window, talking with customers inside the restaurant. Normally, any kind of security job bored him. He preferred more action, meeting with other clubs, taking on more dangerous errands. It gave him a way to solve problems and used up the excess frustration he carried around.
Mostly, he knew if he was out there doing everything possible to keep Tarkio Motorcycle Club safe, he was saving lives. He was giving his sister a life she deserved.
But he couldn't ignore the way Twyla affected him. He wasn't expecting to have feelings for her. The more he found out about her, the deeper he got.
Big wasn't a part of her life. She'd made that clear, and he believed her.
She was going back to the clubhouse with him.
He hoped like hell Big tried to stop him, and he'd take the motherfucker out.
A small group of customers walked out of the restaurant. He looked the other way, not wanting to draw attention to himself. A biker in a leather vest brought fear out in others. Hopefully, only seeing one biker would ease their discomfort, and they would go on their way.
The two gentlemen walked the three women to their vehicles. He swung his gaze back to the restaurant, having lost sight of Twyla. She understood the need for her to stay inside during her shift. Assured she was safe, he got off the Harley and stretched his legs.
With a half-hour until she was off work, he wanted to stay ready. Big would try to make contact as she walked out. He wasn't going to hide. If Big showed his face, he'd see Whip.
By the time Twyla pushed through the door, carrying her purse and apron in her hand, he had his motorcycle warmed up and ready to leave.
She studied him as she hurried to her car. He wasn't going to take her on the back of his motorcycle. It was too dangerous to have her unprotected in case trouble came down on him. He followed her out of the parking lot, trailing her back to the clubhouse.
She took the same route she'd taken for the last three nights. He was pleased with how she stopped asking to leave and even hid her disappointment when he suggested she stay with him and not go out and look for an apartment to rent.
He had no idea about her finances, but he assumed she was having trouble surviving on her own, considering her homeless state after leaving Big.
Her hardships worked to his advantage.
Within ten minutes, she'd parked in front of the clubhouse. He parked his Harley in the line of bikes to the left of the front door. Not wasting time, he got her inside the building.
"Hang on." She stopped and turned, digging in her purse.
He rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the tension she carried with her. He'd come into her room every night and slept with her. She'd lost a lot of sleep, and it was starting to show. He'd even caught her yawning while she worked.
A small part of him wasn't the least bit guilty, knowing she was a passionate woman and had wanted him as much as he'd wanted her. Running on a few hours of sleep was worth having his dick inside of her every night.
She handed him cash. He refused to take it.
"It's for the food and drinks I've had since staying here." Her gaze softened. "It's okay. I'm saving the rest of my money to afford rent when I move out."
"I don't want your money."
"But, I want to pay my way."
"No need." He kissed her. "You've paid your way."
She slapped his chest and leaned away from him. He chuckled, realizing his mistake.
Shaking her head, she stormed off toward the hallway. The music switched tracks, and in the lull of noise, a door slammed.
Aware of others watching, he looked around the room and connected his gaze with Priest, who frowned at him. He shrugged. Her temper had nothing to do with their plan. Twyla remained unaware of what was happening around her.
Rick, stretched out on the couch with his hands latched behind his head, said, "Take care of her, brother."
"I don't need you to tell me how to take care of a woman." He stepped over and kicked his brother-in-law's boots off the coffee table. "Go home to my sister."
"Can't." Rick grinned. "She and Nicole went over to Curley's place to help Faye in the greenhouse. There are things she can't do being pregnant."
He tensed. "Where are the kids?"
Now was not the time to run around town. Cusclan would be looking at any opportunity to attack, and they'd hit low. Getting to their women and children would devastate Tarkio.
"With the women. Priest put the prospects on guard duty over there." Rick noticed Whip's concern. "Curley's there, too."
He drew in a breath, easing the pressure in his chest. Clasping Rick's offered hand, he dipped his chin. Out of everyone, he trusted Rick. They'd spent too much time locked in a prison cell together not to depend on each other.
With everyone else taken care of, he walked over and opened the fridge at the side of the room, checking to see what kind of food was left. Finding a pile of sandwiches in a sack, he took out two of them and went to share dinner with Twyla.
Her door was locked.
He knocked.
A shadow fell over him, and he looked over her shoulder and found Priest approaching him.
"There's pizza in the meeting room," said Priest.
He looked down at the sack, changed his mind, and stepped over to the locked room. Priest used his key and let him in. He dumped the sack on the table and picked up a paper plate, piling slices of barely warm pizza on top.
"Two Cusclan members were spotted over at Kelly Island." Priest stopped him from leaving the room.
"We have guys at that location?" He cocked his head. "There's nothing there."
"I had a hunch and sent a crew out earlier." Priest lowered his voice. "What do you think about backing away from Twyla when she's at work? Give Big a little nibble of the bait."
"Fuck no." There was nothing to think about. He wasn't going to throw Twyla out there to fend for herself.
"I hear you." Priest stroked his beard. "The more time we give them to get a better game plan, the more damage they'll put on Tarkio."
"Then, let me be the bait."
Priest walked deeper into the room. Whip put the plates down on the table and waited for his president to say something. The idea wasn't a new one.
He'd bided his time over the last four years, since he'd walked out of prison, to pay Cusclan back for killing his parents. He wouldn't stop getting retribution until he runs out of luck.
"I'm not willing to lose one of my men." Priest faced him. "It'd be no different than if we rode to them and called a war on the spot. Whether we lose one or twenty men, I'm not willing to put that on the club."
"You're admitting that we'll lose—"
"Yes, damnit," roared Priest. "We'll lose one, ten, twenty, who the fuck knows. In this day and age, with both clubs having the manpower and Cusclan's supply of endless weapons and money, there is no good outcome."
Hardness sealed Whip's heart. To back down and take a passive stance wasn't the way to go.
"Things have changed. The power inside the prison system dictates what happens on the outside. Not only in Montana but Idaho, too. We also have every club in Washington pushing in at us. We've already seen a merger of two clubs, who understood the need to become bigger, so they can retain their terri
tory. It's time to tread softly."
"Are you thinking about expanding?"
Any time a club brought in new members, they became weak. Trust and loyalty came with time. Tarkio swore on the patch. As a club, they were at their strongest because of the years the members had invested.
A quarter of the club was comprised of second-generation Tarkio members. They had children who would become third generation.
"We can't let them walk in and take what we've invested in Tarkio." He picked up the plates.
Priest sank down in the chair at the head of the table, steepling his hands in front of him. Whip let himself out. When Priest wanted to talk or had a decision, he'd be there to listen. Until then, there was nothing he could do.
Nobody had an answer. Tarkio had to play each day as it came.
And, tonight, he had a pissed off woman who was hungry, tired, and confused. He had to make that right.
Taking the key off the top of the doorframe, he unlocked Twyla's door. Inside, he flipped the light on and found her curled up in bed. Tilting his head, he listened.
Slow, even breathing filled the room. His gut tightened. She'd already fallen asleep.
Setting the cold pizza on the dresser, he picked up a slice and had dinner alone. There was no reason to wake her. She was out for the count.
He sat in the lone chair in the room and one-handedly unlaced his boots. Once his feet were free, he crossed his ankles and stretched back, ogling the slope of Twyla's hip under the covers.
Maybe Priest was wrong, or perhaps he was right about the direction of the world.
He needed to figure out where Twyla fell in the situation. Everyone would feel the impact if a war broke out.
Could he get rid of Big before blood spilled on the club? How would he let her walk away afterward, knowing he wouldn't be around to protect her?
Brushing his hands off on the thighs of his jeans, he only knew that whatever happened, he wanted her safe. He couldn't trust anyone else to protect her.
Chapter 17
Twyla
Raucous laughter permeated the wooden door. Twyla shoved her hairbrush in her purse. Her mood turned sour, suspecting Whip was out there having a good time with his biker brothers.
It'd taken her only a minute when she woke up to realize she'd overreacted last night when she tried to pay Whip for letting her stay at the club. But, waking up alone made her doubt herself.
Maybe she was right about her initial reaction that Whip believed she'd already paid for her stay by having sex with him.
The thought made her sick.
When she had sex, it was because she had feelings about someone. There was a mutual attraction. She certainly wouldn't give it away for free or as payment for somewhere to stay.
It wasn't as if she was a prude. Far from it. It was the nineties. Women could seek pleasure wherever they wanted and with whomever they wanted. But, she wasn't a skank.
Maybe Whip was used to women like the ones who hung out at the clubhouse and partied, but she wasn't one of them.
She picked up her purse and walked out the door, holding her car keys in her hand. If Whip thought she was a whore, he could find someone else to bang.
Ignoring the men in the room, she headed toward the door. The best thing she could do was move on and find a place of her own. That way, she could remember Whip on a good note.
Lately, she'd started to believe that he could hurt her. She was becoming too close to him. Feelings were developing between them. Deep feelings that changed sex to making love.
She thought it was the same for him.
Maybe it wasn't.
Maybe she was only a convenience for him because she was here.
Well, that was something she could fix. She could leave. Then, she wouldn't have to feel that way.
"Hey, hey, hey..." Whip's voice came to her before he grabbed her elbow, stopping her from leaving. "Where are you going?"
He hadn't checked up on her that morning or given a reason why he hadn't spent the night with her. They had no agreement between them. Circumstances had thrown them together.
"I have some errands I need to do." She swallowed, seeing the bags under his eyes. "I'll be careful."
Since moving to the clubhouse, Big hadn't bothered her. She hadn't seen him or any member of Cusclan Motorcycle Club.
"Wait for a second, and I'll ride behind you." Whip cupped her cheek, thrumming his thumb along her cheek. "Don't you want breakfast or a cup of coffee first?"
"I..." She looked behind her at the door.
Why would he make it harder for her to leave if all she was to him was an easy lay? She bit her lower lip and gazed at him again. Stifling her groan, she couldn't tell what was up or down with him.
"Do you really think I'm a woman who would pay you with sex?" she blurted.
His brows lifted. "Do you think I'm a man who—don't answer that."
He grabbed her hand and took her outside, letting the door shut behind him. Outside, he pulled her around until she stood in front of him.
Whip cupped her face. "There are plenty of women hanging around here I could have sex with."
She pulled back, but he refused to let her go.
"I'm not having sex with them. I want you." He lowered his head. "Sleeping with you has nothing to do with you owing me. If anything, I owe you. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be staying here, and you'd be free to live your life without looking over your shoulder."
"I don't want you to think I'd sleep with anyone who helps me."
He grunted. "I don't."
She worried about what he thought about her, considering he believed for the longest time that she belonged to Big. It was hard to explain her short time with Big because even to her own ears, it sounded like she was a woman who hung around bikers for sex, shacking up with any of them that would have her.
She swallowed and leaned closer. "I liked Big, at the beginning. Before he asked me to move in. He knew I was struggling to make my car payment—"
"Don't want to hear it." He kissed her forehead. "Whatever it was, it's over. If you want to talk about sex and relationships, my name better come from your lips because I'm not going anywhere."
She studied him. "You want a relationship with me?"
"Yeah, sis. I do."
Her stomach warmed. "What kind of relationship?"
The day hadn't started like she'd thought it would. She'd half convinced herself that everything they had together was nothing, and it was time for her to move on.
She hated to hope.
She wanted to believe.
She needed him to tell her.
"The kind where you're with me. In bed. Out of bed. You're mine." His mouth softened. "While you're mine, I'm not sharing. I don't want any other man touching you."
"What about you?" She blinked. "Are you going to be with other women?"
"Don't need to be. I have you."
She'd moved in with Big too fast. It'd been one of her biggest mistakes. And here she was practically living with Whip inside a clubhouse, sleeping with him, and getting upset over their fast relationship.
But the two relationships were polar opposites.
"You confuse me." She blew out her breath. "I don't know what is going on between us."
No man had ever become part of her life the way he had. He made her desperate and want to fight for him. She hated the feeling, and yet, that same reaction was addicting. She wanted to know how much deeper they could go. She wanted to explore the way he made her feel.
"I told you—"
She put her finger on his lips, shushing him. "I want you, too."
A burst of excitement filled her. She couldn't explain what was happening, but she was going to hold on to him until she understood what being with him meant to her.
The corner of his mouth lifted before he captured her lips. She kissed him back, raising up to her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her mood lifted. For today, they were okay.
Knowin
g she wasn't cheap entertainment for him made her feel like working harder to understand how to deal with Whip's strong personality.
They weren't so different in that aspect. She reacted badly because she felt so strongly about him.
"Uncle!"
Whip's head lifted, breaking the kiss. She held on to him, trying to grasp what stopped him when she heard squeals.
He held on to her and shifted his body, taking the impact of a child colliding with his legs. "Slow down, Rocky."
Snapped out of showing Whip how happy he'd made her, she looked around, forgetting they were outside.
Whip's sister gawked at her, standing still beside Rick by the front door, holding a little girl. Warmth heated Twyla's face.
"Come here, son," said Rick.
Twyla jerked her gaze back to the boy, failing desperately to ignore Whip's sister's shock. Apparently, Whip hadn't told Tracy he was spending time with her.
Rocky ran back to his parents. She glanced up at Whip and raised her brows.
"Are we leaving or staying?" he asked.
"I was going to look for a place to live," she whispered. "Do you want to go with me?"
"Uh, Twyla...?" He looked over at the door.
She glanced to see what he was looking at and found his sister standing there without Rick or the kids.
"Why don't you go talk to her, and I'll take off. I'll be back in a couple of hours." She dropped her hands from his chest, conscious of holding on to him. "I won't be long."
"We just talked about you being with me." He frowned and ran his hand through his hair. "You'll stay here."
"That was never the plan. It's a biker clubhouse, Whip. I don't belong here." She pushed against his chest. "Go talk to your sister."
"Don't leave." His brows lowered. "We'll talk again."
She glanced at Tracy and then looked at Whip, nodding. "I'll be in the bedroom."
Leaving him outside, she walked toward the door. Tracy continued to stare at her. Twyla smiled—giving her politeness. "Hello."
"Hi," mumbled Tracy.
