Indulge

by C. D. Breadner

  “Just a business associate,” Thor rumbled across the lot at them with a casual shrug. “Not your worry, McClune.”

  “Your associates didn’t show,” Jayce pointed out unnecessarily.

  “They might have felt a little unwelcome,” Thor guessed sarcastically. “Seeing as you got your bikes lined up like you own the place.”

  Jayce threw his cigarette down and ground it out. “Unless your business in Markham is a couple of beers bought at this fine establishment, I’d say it’s best you be going anyway. And from now on remember that your shit doesn’t come through my town.”

  “Just wanting to pass through, McClune,” Thor insisted. “You don’t own this town.”

  Buck couldn’t miss how Jayce’s back went ramrod straight, hands dropping to his sides with deceptive ease. It did sound like a challenge, and nothing would piss Jayce off more than someone undermining the MC’s hold on Markham.

  “Said it once, don’t feel like repeating myself,” Jayce snapped back.

  The lot fell quiet again, then Thor turned for his bike and his officers did the same. The Rebels watched the group take off in one loud, rumbling clump, then Buck let out his breath. None of them moved until the bikes were out of sight and too far away to hear.

  “That went a little too easy,” Tank remarked as Jayce turned to face them.

  “Who called?” Buck asked. “When we were at your place? Who tipped you off on them?”

  “Guido called,” Jayce said, heading for the door. “They heard about a shipment that came in last night, asked a friend that they got working at that skank shack they run. She overheard the plan, told him about it.”

  “We staying for one more?” Tank asked, following the Prez. “I kinda wanna grab that blonde, see if she’ll let me dance with her.”

  Jayce smirked as he held the door open, nodding them in ahead of him. “Go get her, stud.”

  Sure enough, Sex and the City were still on the dance floor, whooping it up just as the band started Sweet Home Alabama. Tank headed right for the group, easing up to the blonde and doing the over-grown ape shuffle to get her attention. She squealed when she saw him, then grabbed onto his beard and pulled him into their circle.

  Buck approached the bar with Jayce as Spaz took a seat in a quiet corner. “This is the third time in six weeks,” Buck pointed out the obvious, motioning to Dog for a couple of beers.

  “I know. They just refuse to go around.”

  Buck thrummed his fingers on the wood for a moment then said what was on his mind. “We could just let them drive it through. Risking a bust-up over that seems dangerous.”

  Jayce tipped his beer back to his lips, then lowered the bottle to the table. “You know what the Gypsys did,” he muttered. “They want to peddle their shit they stay the fuck away from this town.”

  Buck let that sit. It had only been four months, and they all missed Skip. The fact that their previous Sergeant at Arms was killed by those Gypsy pricks didn’t exactly improve relations.

  “Right,” Buck agreed, ending the dispute and turning to lean against the bar, surveying the room. Tank actually seemed to be getting on with the blonde. Buck lost sight of the buxom one until the door to the hallway leading to the washrooms opened. He saw her hair disappear into the fluorescent glare beyond before the door swung shut. Before he could share another thought with his Prez he saw another form approach that doorway, some tall, thin guy with a tailored shirt, dark jeans and a fancy-looking haircut. The guy did a little surveillance of the bar himself, mainly at the three girls on the dance floor who were entertaining themselves by sandwiching Tank in their shitty bump-and-grind routine. That made Buck stand up straighter just as the guy vanished down the hallway.

  “Be right back,” Buck mumbled, setting his beer down and heading for that door.

  Chapter Five

  LSD was … awesome.

  Gertie had never felt so free; it was like flying, and the world was so beautiful and colorful. And she wasn’t scared of anything, and usually everything made her nervous. The Dog’s Breakfast wasn’t scary, the motorcycles out front weren’t scary, the patrons of this place weren’t scary, and the music was freaking awesome!

  Gertie didn’t even need alcohol. She was perfectly happy to just dance all night, but people seemed to be sending them drinks anyway. And unlike the clubs she was used to, they weren’t sending over lemon drops or apple martinis. They were being sent tequila shots.

  They were licking each other’s necks since there was no salt. That led to more tequila shots. She wasn’t worried that people seemed to be staring at them. She was having too much fun.

  Not even the arrival of Jim had her down. She was flying high and feeling free. He didn’t hit the floor and try to crowd in with them, he just stayed at their table, watched their purses, drinking, and staring. That didn’t bother her, either. She was too happy in her own little zone with her pretty friends. And not even Jim was getting through that.

  At some point a large, bearded and leather-clad man joined their group. Gertie had never seen anyone so large before, and everything about him screamed “biker” from what she knew from TV. His leather vest had a big, worn patch on the back. A crest on his breast declared his name was “Tank.” And he really seemed to like Maggie. It was funny to see because of the size difference. Gertie tried to imagine what it would look like if they hooked up and she couldn’t.

  When the call of nature came she left the girls and Tank on the dance floor, walking far too carefully because of her inebriation. She did her business in the ladies’ room, not a care given about the sanitation standards, washed her hands and left the room, blinking at how harsh the overhead florescent lights were. She was barely aware of movement; Jim was just suddenly there, blocking the way and herding her back into the women’s washroom.

  Being fucked up on booze and illegal substances didn’t allow for rational thought. She let herself be huddled along, stumbling slightly until her ass hit the counter. But he didn’t stop, he crushed himself against her and grabbed her with both hands going to a side of her neck, immobilizing her head so he could cover her mouth with his, his lips and tongue feeling cold somehow and completely totally unwelcome.

  Gertie put her hands to his chest and pushed but skinny Jim was stronger than he looked. He let one hand leave her neck but it wrapped around her back, really tight, and she tried to make a noise but his mouth covered hers and all that came out was a muffled grunt.

  His hand grabbed her ass and she pushed harder, smacking at his chest, unable to back away. She could feel his erection, which intensified the bit of panic starting to cut through the haze. She was able to grab his hair, but instead of it thwarting him he pulled away, leaving her with a clump of mouse-brown hair while he spun and tossed her face-first against the wall next to the hand dryer.

  Gertie’s panic went to level five, finally. Jim grabbed her hands with one of his and pinned them over her head; she hadn’t even realized he’d gotten hold of them. His other hand was pushing up the skirt of her dress before pushing away the crotch of her underwear.

  She was frozen. She always said that if she was being attacked she would fight and scratch and bite and raise holy hell to bring help running or scare someone off. But in reality it was exactly like a nightmare; her voice was gone, her body not responding to her commands to run and fight. All she was aware of was her pounding heart and quivering knees. She had tears in her eyes, and heard her own raspy breathing, but she couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

  There was shifting and clinking behind her and she knew he was undoing his pants. The creepiest part was that he hadn’t said a single thing; not a word. He didn’t give a shit, didn’t even want to further scare her by muttering nasty shit like some movie rapist. He was just going to take what he wanted because she was too messed up to stop it.

  His hand was between her legs again, cold and feeling so incredibly gross she sobbed, his fingers probing and sliding and moving, like he was actually tr
ying to get her primed for this. She closed her eyes, the sobs coming loud and ugly, but when she felt how he positioned his body for penetration she … lost it.

  Gertie wasn’t sure what caused it. Suddenly she was strong, pissed off and fucking psychotic. His breath was on her neck, hot and moist. Not sure how it came about she snapped her head backward, and when her skull hit Jim’s nose it hurt. She gave a cry and saw white light flash across her view of the glossy tiled wall, but at least his hold on her hands had been compromised.

  Gertie scurried out from under his control, not looking back, just wanting to get where there were people. She yanked the bathroom door open hard, hearing footsteps behind her. She ventured a look over her shoulder as she cleared the door, and saw Jim stuffing his dick back in his pants and loping after her, blood running down his chin.

  There was a slight thrill to see him bleeding, but before Gertie could so much as crack a grin she hit a wall.

  Not a wall. A man; solid, hard and unmovable. She looked up to his face, startled, but his expression washed away any new fear that might have crept up. He looked surprised and concerned.

  “Hey,” he said, calm and easy. “Are you okay?”

  On some level of consciousness she took in his leather vest, the tattoos she could see on his neck, which really had to hurt, the biceps that stretched out his T-shirt sleeves, and the overall badass vibe he was steeped in.

  With a relieved gasp she ducked behind him, hands on his sides, literally using him as a human shield. “He attacked me,” she breathed just as Jim hit the hallway with them.

  Around this bad ass’s arm she peeked out just in time to see Jim’s face drop the pissed off snarl and his pace came to a screeching halt. He had about two inches of height over this stranger, but Jim looked like an absolute financial advisor compared to the man staring him down.

  Apparently that’s what her new friend was doing, because Jim also grew pale and visibly swallowed. “Problem here?” the man in front of her rumbled. Even his voice sounded dangerous.

  Jim swallowed again and shook his head. “No,” he croaked, his voice even breaking. “Just a misunderstanding.”

  “I’ll bet. But she doesn’t look like she was into playing whatever game you were trying to get her to play.” He stepped away from her, and Gertie actually tried to grab hold of him again, debating scurrying along behind him just to keep him close. But she made herself stay where she was, her arms wrapped around her stomach to hold herself back. “So I’ll give you thirty seconds to leave this place or I will drag you out by force, and my friends will break other parts of your face this lady hasn’t already busted up.”

  Jim paled and he leaned back. Gertie wished she could see what this stranger’s face looked like, but then again, maybe she didn’t. “I’ll go,” Jim whispered with a nod, all too eager to please. “I’ll leave.”

  “And say you’re fucking sorry,” the stranger snapped, shouting for the first time. It was so sharp Gertie jumped.

  “I’m sorry,” Jim gasped out, eyes still wide on the man.

  “Not to me, you fucking idiot. To her.”

  Jim looked further down the hall to Gertie, took a few steps which Gertie stepped back from, and stopped. “I’m sorry Gertie,” he said, looking like he was about to cry. Then like a gust of wind he was gone, and Gertie was alone with a strange man who scared other men just by glaring at them.

  She dropped her eyes to her feet as he approached her, surprised by how soft his touch was as he nudged her chin up so she was looking at him. “Are you okay?”

  Gertie hadn’t had a chance to really look at him until right then. He was with those other bikers out in the bar but she couldn’t see any details. She had to blink a few times, wondering if the hit to the head wasn’t making her brain mush.

  Because he was absolutely, positively fucking hot.

  He shouldn’t have been. He had hair growing in long, messy waves that fell back around his ears. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in months, and not in an intentional way. It was long and scraggly all over. But his jaw was square, nose straight and proud between cheekbones that could cut stone. But his eyes were the real stunner; cold and green, gorgeous, but clouded with concern.

  Gertie forgot how to talk. He wasn’t a huge man but she felt dwarfed with all the outlaw vibe rolling off of him, dressed in dark colors. She sank back against the wall, trying to take steadying breaths while her heart calmed down with reassurances she was not about to be defiled by Jim. Instead, hoping to be defiled by this guy.

  No, not that. Definitely not that. She had no idea who this guy was.

  “Hello?” he muttered, a slight smile tilting the edges of his lips upwards. “You all right? Did he hit you at all?”

  She swallowed, blinked rapidly and tried to remember how to talk. “I broke his nose with my head,” she shared, stupidly.

  His mouth half-grinned and she had an abstract thought that she was turned on, but she was also once again at the mercy of someone stronger than her. “Well, at least you drew some blood then. But … you’re sure you’re okay?”

  Okay, seriously, he almost had her convinced he was a nice guy. She had to shut that down immediately. “I’m fine,” she stammered. “He tried but … didn’t actually … you know.”

  Scary Sexy Badass nodded, losing the smile. “Good. But maybe you should still press charges. Get a restraining order or something.”

  Even his lips were lovely. The top one was shaped really nice, a good dip in the center that made each word he said all the more interesting. She was about to respond when –

  “Get away from her!”

  Gertie jumped, head snapping to the right to see Maggie standing in the doorway to the bar. She had one hand on her hip, which was jutted out in standard bitch posture. It wasn’t scary in the least but her rescuer backed off her anyway, and Gertie could actually feel her body cool down a couple degrees.

  “It’s okay Maggie,” Gertie assured her friend, fighting to sound normal. “He was just helping me. Making sure I’m okay.” She frowned, looking back to him. “I don’t know your name,” she realized with surprise.

  “It’s Buck,” he answered with a grin, then strode past her to the doorway. He turned sideways to squeeze past Maggie who stank-eyed him the whole way.

  When he was gone the door dropped shut and Maggie stalked up her, fit to be tied. “What happened? Jim just went flying out of here with a bloody nose. Did that guy hit him?”

  Gertie fought not to giggle. “I did that,” she admitted, the giggles coming out anyway. “I broke Jim’s nose.”

  “Are you insane? Why’d you do that?”

  Gertie’s smile faded, so did the laugh. “He tried to force himself on me in the bathroom. I broke his nose and ran. That guy – Buck – was here when I got free. He told Jim to get out.”

  Gertie would never forget the surprise on Maggie’s face. It was then that her adrenalin washed away her false calm and a cold surge rushed in to take its place, making her hand shake as she pushed her hair back. “Jesus, Maggie,” she whispered, feeling the tears coming. “He almost raped me.”

  Chapter Six

  -NOW-

  A machine was puffing away next to the other bed in the semi-private room. A thin curtain didn’t do anything to muffle sound, and the beeping monitor was wearing on Buck and making his headache worse. But Buck wasn’t leaving until Gertie woke up.

  A chair wedged next to her bed was his home base. Gertie had been given the half of the room with the window, so he had milky morning sunlight on the left side of his face, and Gertie on the right. She certainly wasn’t pale against the hospital sheets. Every inch of visible skin was black and blue, face so swollen he honestly didn’t recognize any of her features. She’d taken a real shit-kicking. He was shocked she was still alive.

  They’d had to punch a hole in her skull to relieve the swelling in her brain. A bandage around her head concealed the draining tube, which trailed out across her pillow. Four broken rib
s. Two broken fingers. Three lost molars. Both eyebrows required stitches to close up where her skin had split. But somehow, other than the subdural hematoma, there was no internal damage.

  Buck hadn’t left his chair since she was wheeled out of surgery. The staff didn’t want to let him in here, told him to come back during visiting hours, but he had a way of staring folks down that meant he got his way. So here he sat.

  It wasn’t because of some calming acceptance. Inside he was churning, fucking furious and ready to kill someone. Even with all the shit Gertie had put him through, and there had been a lot of it, he still couldn’t see her like this and convince himself she meant nothing.

  She meant everything.

  Seeing her on her apartment floor, in that state, he had completely panicked. His hands were shaking and the tape of his 911 call probably sounded like he was weeping like a bitch.

  Buck lowered his feet from the edge of her bed and leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees. He rested his chin on his hand, eyes watching her face for some sign she was waking up. But she slept, and that was likely the best for her. He just wanted to see those hazel eyes, have them recognize him and brighten up the way the used to.

  Swallowing a lump he reached out to take her hand in one of his, thumb running over her busted up knuckles. She’d fought back, at least. Her nails were torn up, too. His girl was one tough broad.

  There was a soft knock at the door and he sat up, leaning back to see around the curtain. Jayce was at the door and he gestured Buck out into the hall, so Buck did as told. A quick gaze back at Gertie, then he was making his way to the Prez and leaning against the wall. “What’d you find?” He was exhausted and realized he hadn’t slept in two days.

  Jayce cut right to it. “Wasn’t the Gypsys, wasn’t G-Town. And I believe them on this. Especially coming from Thor.”

  Buck’s jaw twitched at that, and he nearly added “Yeah I bet” but he managed to keep it held in. It wasn’t the time for that bullshit.