Dangerous (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 2)

by Tory Richards

  My gaze dropped to her ruby-red lips and the tip of her tongue running over them. I had to admit that the sight made my dick jerk, because there was nothing I liked more than seeing my dick surrounded by glistening red lips. I wrapped my arm around her small waist, trying not to wince at the feel of how boney she was. "What did you have in mind, honey?" Why did some women feel they had to be skinny to be pretty? While CC had a nice pair of tits, fake as they were, her protruding ribs and hip bones were a little too prominent for my tastes.

  I liked soft, pliable flesh on my women.

  Her pretty blues--I was certain they were contact lenses--lit up like a Christmas tree. "I'm up for anything," she said seductively. "Are you?" She glanced down purposely at my dick, which was at half-mast.

  "Hey, Jace!"

  I glanced up to see Reaper motioning me over to his table. CC's audible sigh revealed that she knew what was coming next. I smiled down at her, slipping my arm from around her waist. "Maybe later, yeah?"

  "Sure," she responded in a tone that revealed her annoyance. "Kiss till later?"

  When she leaned in I pushed her away gently. "Oh, no, honey. I don't do that shit." Her scowl revealed that she didn't like that. I didn't give a fuck. No telling how many dicks she'd had her lips on that day. Besides, kissing seemed too personal. It was something that people who cared for each other did. When I saw that she was about to get bitchy, I patted her on the ass. "Later."

  Her huff followed me as I made my way to Reaper.

  Chapter 3

  Luna

  I set the flowers I'd bought around the steps leading up to my door and along the side of my tiny home. I'd made another run to Walmart, and hadn't been able to pass up the beautiful geraniums I’d found outside of their garden center. The flowers were white, and were a nice contrast against the red of my trailer. It was early summer, and I knew that with a little care I'd have flowers until the first frost. Once they were arranged to my satisfaction, I dug out my burner phone and sat down on one of the lawn chairs that I'd also purchased. It was highly unlikely that I'd have company, but I’d bought two chairs just in case.

  I smiled as I punched in the number to my parents’ home. We'd made an agreement that we'd only touch base once a week, on Wednesdays, and it was my turn to call. It was the one day of the week that I really looked forward to, being able to talk to my folks. I missed them so much. I'd hated leaving them, and it hadn't gotten easier as Mom had said it would.

  "Hello?"

  "Mom, it's me."

  "Oh, honey, we've been waiting for your call. How are you?"

  "I'm good, Mom. I've really turned Grandpa's trailer into a comfortable home for me. You should see what it looks like."

  "Send pictures, dear."

  "I will when I'm done. I still have a few things to do. I added flowers to the outside today."

  Mom laughed. "I know you love flowers. Do you need anything? Money?"

  I laughed. "Mom, I've been here less than a month. I'm good. Are you and Dad okay?"

  "We're fine, honey. Don't worry about us. Seth still calls demanding that we tell him where you are, but I think we've convinced him that we don't know. He hasn't phoned at all today."

  "Be careful, Mom. He's tricky." I wouldn't put anything past Seth. When he wanted something, he could be ruthless, and he never gave up. "You may want to call him in a day or two and ask if he's heard from me, and sound worried."

  "That's a good idea." I could hear the smile in her voice. "You know, after you've been there for a while, your dad and I could come for a visit. We…" I let her go on for a while. My mom, the forever optimist.

  I hadn't been completely honest with my parents about Seth. I hadn't told them how controlling and cruel and domineering he’d been. I hadn't told them that there couldn't be any visits from them. That once I had got away, I would have to stay away, and that it was too dangerous for them to come to me. Seth would never give up looking for me, and you couldn't fool him. He'd know that they had helped me get away from him. He'd wait, and watch, and right when I thought I was safe, he would attack. I wouldn't take a chance with my parents, because I knew Seth wouldn't hesitate to hurt them, and more than he’d ever hurt me.

  And he'd hurt me. I didn’t have scars--he’d always been careful when he’d gotten physical--but that hadn’t dimmed the emotional pain that he’d inflicted on me.

  I felt tears fill my eyes.

  "What do you think, dear?"

  I had no idea what she was asking. "Mom, I . . ." I decided to take a stab in the dark. "Sounds good. Is Dad around?"

  She laughed. "You know your dad and his naps. But I could get him up."

  "No, no, that's okay." My dad had a heart problem and had been forced to retire from the post office early because of it. "Don't bother him." I could easily picture him laying on top of her quilted bedspread with one of her crocheted throws him.

  "Are you sure? He's going to be upset that he missed your call."

  "The week will go by fast, and he can call me next Wednesday."

  "Okay, dear."

  "I guess that's it for now, Mom. Please be careful where Seth is concerned. I love you."

  "Love you, too."

  We said our goodbyes and I disconnected, sitting back in my chair and closing my eyes. The tears that I'd been struggling to hold back burst like a dam, and I buried my face in my hands. Damn Seth McDonald. Damn him to hell and back. How I hated him. And I hated myself for letting him have that kind of power over me. I didn't trust him not to use my parents to get to me. I knew what he was capable of, and if he hurt them…If he ever found out that they knew where I was and that they were helping me, God only knew how he'd react.

  When Seth got physical, he held nothing back. I'd only been the recipient of his physical abuse once, and once had been enough. Coupled with all of the mental abuse that he'd put me through, when it had turned physical, I'd immediately begun making my plans to leave him. It hadn't been easy. Seth's possessiveness to control everything around him had forced me to sneak out in the dead of night, only taking what I'd been able to cram into an oversized tote bag. He'd been out of town at the time, but I'd been afraid that he'd had someone watching me.

  My parents, who were old enough to be my grandparents because they'd had me late in life, had been confused and worried. They hadn't understood why they'd had to pick me up on a corner until we were sitting at the kitchen table and they'd been able to see the bruises that Seth had left on my body. I'd told them most of everything at that point. Then they hadn't understood why I'd stayed with Seth for so long. I hadn't told them why, falling back on the old excuse of being stupid and in love. I hadn’t told them that I was worried that he'd used them against me.

  That was why it had been so important that he not know that they were helping me. If Mom and Dad were careful and stuck with the story, he just might believe that I'd simply run away in the night and told no one where I was going. As long as he didn't suspect that my parents knew more than they were admitting to, they would be okay.

  I wiped furiously at my tears. They weren't for Seth. I had sworn that I would never shed another tear for him and the years that I'd lost being stupid. I'd lost a lot more by having to leave my parents and everything that I'd known. Now I knew what a fugitive felt like on the run, always having to look over my shoulder, being careful who I talked to and what I said. Not getting too close to people, being afraid to trust. At least the situation that I found myself in now was so far removed from what life with Seth had been like that he'd never think to look for me here. Not without help, anyway.

  I pulled myself together and went inside to splash some cold water on my hot face. My little trailer was beginning to look more like a home and less like a weekend fisherman’s retreat. There wasn't much that I'd been able to do about the drab walls, but I'd brightened up the place with colorful accent pieces and curtains. Not too feminine, just clean and comfortable. Other than the fact that I had to walk down to the camp shower facilitie
s in order to shower, I was growing content in my little piece of the world.

  I opened my little fridge for a drink. It was packed with food now so that I didn't need to go to the tavern to eat every day. I had just grabbed a bottle of water when there was a knock at the door. I peered through the screen door to see Casey standing there at the top step with a big smile on her face.

  "Anyone home?" she asked as though she couldn't see me.

  I rolled my eyes. Since meeting her two weeks ago, Casey and I had become friends. She was easy to talk to, and I liked her. She was always smiling and eager to help, even offering me the use of her shower. I'd declined after seeing her boyfriend, Jim, and some of his biker friends come and go at will. I didn't want to take a chance on putting myself in an uncomfortable situation. From the way that some of them looked at me, I knew that their interest went beyond casual friendship, so I kept my distance when they were around.

  It hadn't stopped me from wondering about a certain older biker, though. The one with the steely blue eyes and hot looks. I hadn't seen him since that first day that I’d met Jim, and for all I knew, he was no longer around.

  "Hello?" Casey repeated.

  I grinned. "Come on in." I went to the sofa and sank down, opening my water. "When did you color your hair blue?" I hadn't seen her for a couple of days.

  "You like it?" She twirled around. Casey liked color, and not just in the eclectic hippy clothes that she wore. "Just did it last night." Her wide smile reached the sparkle in her brown eyes. "Can't wait for Jim to see it."

  "It looks great on you," I said honestly. I watched her help herself to a water from the fridge. "Where's Jim?"

  She came my way and plopped herself down onto the cushion next to me. "He had to go on a run with some of his brothers." She twisted the top off the bottle and brought it to her red lips, taking a big drink. "They should be back tonight."

  I wondered if by "they" that included the steely-eyed hulk that I couldn't get off my mind. I'd had a dream or two about him. "What's a run?" I asked.

  She shrugged lightly. "Club business," she explained simply, which didn't explain anything at all. The expression on my face must have revealed my confusion. She took a breath. "All I know is that if it involves anything to do with their club, it's club business. They're not allowed to discuss it with outsiders, or civilians, as they refer to non-members, which include us."

  "Sounds kind of mysterious." And suspicious, too, I could have added, but didn't.

  "Yeah. But it's the way all MCs run. It's a brotherhood, stronger than if they were blood brothers. They live by certain rules. They don't even tell their old ladies what's going on to keep them safe."

  I frowned. "Safe? From what?" I was curious now.

  "Safe from rival clubs who might want to use the brothers’ family members to gain information." She giggled. "Or safe from the law. If the old ladies don't know what goes on in the club, they can't talk about it."

  I didn't like the sound of that. "Are these men criminals?"

  Casey hesitated, her expression thoughtful. I had the feeling that she wasn't sure that she should answer the question. "Your hesitation says a lot," I said with a small smile. I released a breath and glanced out the window next to me.

  "I'm just thinking about how I should answer this," she admitted, drawing my gaze. "I wouldn't call them criminals, they're not wanted by the law or anything. If they were, they'd be in jail. Right?" Another pause. "But I think some of their activities fall outside of the law, or at least on the line. They're not saints. Most of them have been in trouble, and even jail, but I don't think they're dangerous to people like you and me. It's usually with other clubs."

  I wondered what kind of trouble she was talking about. The men I'd met so far, and the ones that I'd seen riding through the park, had looked dangerous and scary enough to me. I'd seen how people went out of their way to avoid them. Still, in spite of their overbearing personalities, they seemed to keep to themselves.

  "How long has Jim been in a gang?

  Casey laughed. "Don’t let any of them hear you call them a gang, they're a motorcycle club."

  Personally, I couldn't see the difference but I remained silent.

  "Jim's been patched into the Wreckers for a couple of years now. Before that he was a prospect. Not just anyone can join, from what he tells me. They have to earn their way into the club. Now that he's a patched member, he has more say in club activities and doesn't get stuck with the crap jobs anymore."

  "Sounds like he's important."

  She shook her head. "He's not one of the officers or anything, but he'd like to be one day.

  "So are you his old lady?" I finished my water and got up to fix myself a sandwich.

  "Not yet, but I'm hoping." I could hear the wistfulness in her tone. "We've only been seeing each other a couple of months."

  "If it's meant to be, it will happen," I smiled, tossing her a glance from the fridge. "Want a sandwich? I have tuna fish."

  "Sure."

  It didn't take long to put together two sandwiches on a paper plate. I added some dill pickles and a handful of chips and set them on the small, booth-like table. Casey just scooted over on the sofa while I sat opposite her on a vinyl seat. I couldn't help but notice that she was taking in the changes that I'd made.

  "You've really turned this into a cute little home for yourself." She reached for her sandwich. "I would have done something with mine, but I didn’t think that I'd be staying that long."

  "Thanks," I mumbled around a mouthful. "At least yours is bigger than a matchbox." I already had an idea of why she'd decided to extend her stay, but I asked her anyway. "What changed?"

  "I met Jim."

  "Of course," I teased. "Funny, you're staying because of a man, and I'm running away because of one." I hadn't meant to reveal so much, and regretted the words as soon as they'd left my mouth. "Forget I said that." I stuffed a chip into my mouth, glancing away from her. I really didn't want to get into the whole Seth situation.

  Casey surprised me by saying, "I knew you were running from something."

  My eyes widened with surprise. "How?"

  She shrugged. "You're not the only one living here who's hiding out. And besides, you don’t look like the fish camp type."

  I had to laugh at that. "I didn't know there was a fish camp type." She took a bite of sandwich and smiled. "So I’m not the only who’s hiding out, huh? Do you mean Jason?" I had to ask. I'd met Jason about a week ago. He was quiet, almost shy, but there'd been a stone-cold look in his eyes that had bothered me. I remembered that when I’d first met him I’d made a mental note to stay away from him.

  Casey nodded, but the smile remained on her pretty face. "Definitely Jason. He has secrets, but I don't think you have to worry about him."

  "Said the girl with the big dog for protection."

  "Samson wouldn't hurt a flea," she said, taking a bite of her pickle. "He wouldn't be much protection." She paused, taking a drink. "The most I can hope for is that people think he's a vicious guard dog."

  We finished our lunch in silence. Casey stacked our plates and took them to the garbage can beneath the sink. "You know, I've had lunch here a few times now. Come to my place for dinner tonight. I'm making a pan of lasagna in case Jim makes it back in time for dinner. Even if he does, there's no way we can eat it all."

  I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to be a third wheel.

  "Look, if you're worried about being a third wheel, don't,” she said, reading my mind. “When Jim comes back from a run, I always feed him and his brothers. The ones that go with him, that is."

  Did that include the hulk? I didn't want to be obvious by asking. I wasn't sure why I was infatuated with him, I'd only seen him the one time since moving into the camp. And for all I knew, he had a girlfriend.

  "Say yes," Casey insisted.

  I caved, because it would be nice having a normal dinner with new friends for a change. Besides, I couldn't become a hermit.

&nb
sp; Casey was standing at the door, waiting for my answer. I smiled, shaking my head with resignation. "Only if I can bring dessert."

  "Sounds good! I gotta go now, I have a lot of shaving to take care of before Jim gets back. Dinner is around six."

  "I'll be there," I said, already brainstorming about what I could make for dessert.

  Chapter 4

  Luna

  It turned out that I had the makings for a dump cake, so that’s what I made. It was my favorite dessert and so easy to make, but it would have been difficult to eat the entire thing by myself. All it took was a layer of canned pineapple and its juice, a layer of cherry pie filling, topped off with a box of dry yellow cake mix, butter, and walnuts, and then bake. I hadn't met anyone yet that didn't love it.

  I could see Casey's trailer from mine. The three bikes that were parked outside her door revealed that Jim and his brothers had returned. I walked past Jason's tiny place, not surprised that it was closed up tight, curtains drawn shut and the door closed as usual. After what Casey had said earlier, I wondered what his story was. Why would a young man, he couldn’t have been more than twenty, be living alone in an old fish camp? It would have been easy to scare myself by letting my imagination run.

  Next up was Elba and Roy Jones’ camper, a retired couple who spent their summers at the camp and their winters in Florida. Roy spent his days fishing while Elba busied herself crocheting blankets for homeless shelters. They were nice people, but other than "hellos" and "how you doing" we kept our greetings brief.

  The place next to the tavern belonged to the two girls who worked there, Karla and Barbara. The tavern owners, Bob and Judy, lived above the tavern in a small apartment. There were other trailers throughout the camp grounds, but I'd only met the few people who lived close to me.

  As I neared Casey's door I could hear the murmur of voices coming from inside, and I began to get nervous. Would he be there? My gaze scanned over the huge bikes, as if I would be able to identify his if it were there. The smell of dinner wafted out to me as I approached the door, and it was Samson who alerted everyone of my presence. I'd just reached the bottom step when he met me at the screened door with a friendly bark and a vigorous tail wag.