Devils: Cutthroat 99 MC

by Evelyn Glass

  She took the chip and though it wasn’t polite to look, she glanced at it before tucking it away. Her hand froze and she opened her hand more fully to see the gold chip. “Beast, I think you made a mistake.”

  “No mistake.”

  “This is a five-hundred dollar chip!”

  “I know.”

  She looked around, noticing that several players were staring at them. She closed her hand over the chip to hide it. “Thank you, but are you sure?”

  He took a sip of his water. “Only fifty is for you. The other four hundred fifty is for lady luck that’s sitting on your shoulder.”

  “But…”

  “Take it,” he insisted. “Put it toward a down payment on your own clinic or something.”

  She opened her hand and stared at the chip again. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank you?” he suggested.

  She giggled. “Yes, thank you!”

  “This has nothing to do with that,” he said as he nodded at her hand, “but would you like grab a beer with me? I need to unwind before I will be able to sleep.” He saw her hesitate, clearly feeling trapped. “Another time, perhaps,” he said before turning away.

  “I need thirty minutes to change,” she said suddenly. She was going to turn him down to show him he couldn’t buy her, but when he turned to go, she changed her mind.

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby by the front doors.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  ***

  Beast was standing there, though it took her a moment to spot him. “You changed,” she said as she stepped up to him. He donned a leather jacket with a skull-faced reaper on the back and riding boots.

  “Yeah. I thought we’d ride. It helps clear my head. You ever ridden on a bike before?”

  “Not in years. Dad used to have one, but he finally sold it.”

  “Good. Then I won’t have to explain to you what to do, and not do. Come on.”

  He led her out into the still warm night air and to his bike. They talked about the tournament as they walked and how he was a nobody before, but he was on everybody’s radar now.

  “Here, wear this,” he said, handing her the helmet.

  “You don’t have one.”

  “I’m good.”

  He sat down on the machine, Shayna hopping on behind him and settling in. As he pulled out of the lot, she let him ride, not trying to help him steer the bike, nodding to himself in approval. She was comfortable in the saddle, and his estimation of her ticked up another notch.

  “Where’re we going?” she asked as the big Harley vibrated at a stoplight.

  “A little place I know.”

  “Your place?”

  He chuckled. “No. Is that where you want to go?”

  “No. I was just checking.”

  “Figured as much,” he said as he eased the clutch out and accelerated away from traffic.

  Less than twenty minutes later, he pirouetted the hog around and backed into an open space in the parking lot of a large bar north of the city. The parking lot was full of bikes and loud music thumped from inside. It wasn’t a dive, but it wasn’t exactly Tops either.

  The music assaulted her as he opened the doors, a driving beat she could feel in her chest. The bar was full of men and women dressed in leather, various patches displayed on the backs, and the entire bar was covered in Harley Davidson memorial.

  They were three steps in when “Beast!” rolled though the bar like thunder. Beast smiled and waved as he led her deeper into the bar.

  “They know you here?”

  “Yeah. This is kind of neutral ground. The Reapers hang out here.”

  “Neutral ground?”

  “Yeah. This place is sort of known in the biker community, and people ride in from all over to come here. The Reapers, we have…an arrangement…with the owner. We provide informal security for the place. We usually have a couple of guys here all the time.”

  “And what do you get in return?”

  He grinned. “A place to hang out and unwind.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That, discounts on the menu, and a small fee if we have to knock heads.”

  “That happen often?”

  “No. It works for everyone.”

  “What can I get y’all?” a waitress asked.

  “You know what I want,” Beast said. “Try either the Tailwagger Wheat or the Black Lab Stout. They’re local and very good.”

  “I’ll have the Tailwagger,” Shayna said.

  “You play pool?” she asked after her second beer arrived.

  “Do you?”

  “A little. Want to play?”

  “Sure,” he said rising from the table. Whether she played or not didn’t matter to him, but he wouldn’t mind watching her bend over the table.

  She was on her second beer and, though not yet tipsy, she was beginning to feel the effects. She was beginning to relax around him, and he hadn’t spent the entire night hitting on her or trying to seduce her.

  She let him rack the balls and break. He wasn’t bad and she watched as he sunk a couple of balls, then tried a complicated bank shot and missed.

  She stepped up to the table. “I’m stripes, right?”

  “Right,” he said as she leaned over, her jeans hugging her ass just right. She sank a few then scratched.

  They finished the game, with Beast eking out a narrow victory. “Want to play again?” she asked as he sank the eight ball.

  “Sure,” he said then began racking the balls.

  “Want to make it a little more interesting?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A wager.”

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked, as he quickly arranged the balls in the triangle and then carefully lifted it off.

  “Hundred bucks says I beat you.”

  “Do you have a hundred bucks on you?”

  She smiled and fished the chip he’d given her out of her pocket and placed it on the table. “You can have that as collateral.”

  “And if I win?” he asked.

  “What do you want?”

  He stared at her a moment. “If I win, you have to let me take you to dinner Saturday night.”

  “That’s it? Dinner?”

  He smiled. “We’ll see what happens after that.”

  She smiled and oozed up to him. “If you win and take me to dinner, I’ll let you take me,” she murmured softly.

  He smiled. It was only a matter of time.

  “Lag to break?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He turned and picked the cue ball up off their table set it on the table beside theirs, placing the two balls side by side. “One…two…three.”

  She stuck the ball sharply, the two cue balls caroming off the header rail then the footer rail before rolling to a stop. Her cue ball was noticeably closer to header rail when they stopped rolling.

  “I break,” she said with a grin.

  Beast picked up their cue ball and returned it to the table then watched as Shayna ran the table, sinking ball after ball after ball. When she struck the six, and the cue ball ricocheted off two rails to stop in perfect position to sink the three, he knew he was beaten. At least he could still watch her ass.

  “You’ve done this before,” he said dryly as he propped against another table, holding the cue in front of him, watching the three disappear down the hole.

  “A few times.”

  “You hustled me.”

  “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” she grinned over her shoulder as she bent over and, with a deft stroke, sank the eight ball.

  He chuckled as he pulled out his money clip and counted off four twenties, tossing them on the table. “Where did you learn to shoot pool like that?”

  “School.”

  “I thought you were learning to be a doctor, not a pool shark.”

  She giggled as she pocketed the money. “The student center has a couple of pool and ping pong tables. Cheap entertainment, and
sometimes it gave me a little spending money. Want to go double or nothing on ping pong?”

  He chuckled and help up his hands. “I don’t think my bankroll can stand it.”

  ***

  “I had a good time,” Shayna said as she stepped off his bike in the Tops parking lot.

  “So did I. Thank you for having a beer with me.”

  “Thank you for being a good sport with the pool. Because you didn’t pout or complain, maybe I’ll let you take me to dinner Saturday anyway.”

  Beast grinned. “What about the rest?”

  “Ah, ah, ah. You didn’t win. But…we’ll see what happens.”

  “It’s a date.” He stepped in closer, placed his hand behind her head, and pulled her into a gentle kiss. He didn’t hold her there long before releasing her and stepping back. “That was nice, too.”

  She smiled, liking the fact that he didn’t hesitate, but kept it short and pleasant. “Yes. Yes it was.”

  “Good luck on your test. See you Friday?”

  “If you’re still in the game.”

  “See you Friday.” He watched a moment as she walked away, turning once to give him a brilliant smile and a small wave as he debated with himself on what to do. He’d taken a room in the casino on the assumption that he and Shayna would spend the night together. He didn’t have a change of clothes, but he didn’t feel like going home either. He finally slipped the Harley’s keys into his pocket and followed her. He’d call Hightower and have him drop off a change of clothes in the morning.

  As he stepped into his room and began to undress, he smiled to himself, deciding he was actually glad he lost that game of pool. She was a feisty one, and he was looking forward to the challenge of winning her over.

  ***

  Shayna stepped quietly into the kitchen, the house dark except for the light on over the sink. It was nearly two and her parents were in bed. She’d called them before meeting Beast, told them not to wait up, and that she’d see them in the morning. She paused to look at the large purple bouquet in the center of the table. These came for you, a note in her mother’s handwriting said.

  She found the card and opened it. For Luck. She smiled as she slipped the card back into the holder, remembering the kiss Beast had given her after dropping her off, and she could feel a pleasant warmness flow through her. If he continued to play his cards right, she might be willing to allow him to do more than take her to dinner.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Shayna heaved her backpack onto the bed with a sigh then sat the bouquet on the tiny dining table that shared the single room with her bed. A television that doubled as a computer monitor and a chair completed her furnishings. She was back in her home of the last four years, a four hundred square foot studio apartment within walking distance of school. It wasn’t cheap, but the apartment was nice and the complex was safe with a pool and gym.

  She flopped to her back on the bed, her arms outstretched and her feet on the floor. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep last night. In at two, up again at six to spend a few minutes with her parents before they left for work, then almost a four-hour drive from Vegas to Pomona. She debated taking a nap, but decided a swim would be better. It would perk her up, not take as long, and, most importantly, she’d be able to sleep tonight.

  Tops laundered her uniforms, but she still had a few dirty clothes, which she tossed into the closet that hid her washer and dryer. She would take care of those later, along with her swimsuit. She was an avid swimmer, enjoying making laps in the pool for the exercise it gave her, but also, even more importantly, the clarity it seemed to bring. Now was a good time for swimming with most people at work or school, allowing her to get in her workout with minimum fuss.

  Dressed in her black one piece with a vibrant red stripe up each side, she made her way to the pool. She was more concerned with function over sex appeal, but the red stripes did their job and highlighted her curves. She tossed her towel into a chair and kicked off her flip-flops, nudging them under the chair with her toe, before easing into the water.

  She began to swim, pushing off from the wall with a firm kick. The pool wasn’t large, but it was big enough that she could make several strokes before having to turn for the return trip. As she swam, she let her mind wander, muscle memory taking over and her body going on autopilot to free her mind. As she stroked slowly and efficiently through the water she thought of school and the eight years of her adult life it had consumed. She was ready to get out, to start her career, and to have some time off. For the last eight years her life had consisted of two things: work and school. If she wasn’t working, she was at school, and if she wasn’t at school, she was working.

  Now, with the completion of her final tomorrow, all she’d have to worry about was work. No, not work, a calling. The casino was work, but treating sick and injured animals? That was a joy and privilege.

  She kicked off the wall again, spearing through the water before settling into her stroke. Once she was settled, maybe she’d finally have some time for herself, time to go out and do something fun, maybe even start dating. She’d been on dates, of course, but nothing steady. She was always so busy. She was looking forward to, what was it her friends called it…Netflix and chill. It must be nice to have someone special you could call and do…nothing. And let’s not forget the sex, her mind supplied. She wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t going to sleep with a guy just because they had dinner together. She wanted more than that.

  She kicked off the wall again. She hadn’t been with a man since last summer, taking care of her needs alone in her bed. Not that she hadn’t had suitors. She’d had plenty of those, but they only seemed to be interested in one thing. Sex. That always seemed to be the undercurrent to any date she had. Not that she didn’t want to fuck, because she did, but she didn’t like how her dates always seemed to think that was the reason to date. If she didn’t put out after two or three dates, or she put them off because she had to study, they lost interest.

  Another turn. Maybe that’s what she found so appealing about Beast. It’s still a stupid nickname, she thought as she stroked, her mind bringing images and thoughts up from the depths in random patterns. He wasn’t easily put off, and he seemed more interested in her as a person than as a potential sex partner. It didn’t hurt that he was panty-dampening gorgeous either.

  He had sent her flowers – how he’d managed to pull that off she had no idea, especially since she hadn’t given him her last name or address. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had sent her flowers and, despite herself, she was flattered. Then he’d asked to take her to dinner, only, on a bet. He’d lost, but he’d taken it with good humor. He didn’t seem upset at all that after the promise of sex, she’d snatched the prize away. No name-calling, no pissing and moaning, only humor that he’d been so easily sucker punched. That was the thing she found most appealing about him. He was treating her as a person, not a collection of body parts for his pleasure and amusement.

  Yes, if he asked again, she’d definitely let mister Conor…shit! I don’t even know his last name! No matter, she’d find out when he took her to dinner. She stopped swimming, breathing hard and wiping the water from her eyes. She smiled as she waded out of the pool. That’s the way of swimming. She had no idea how long she’d been in the pool, probably about an hour, but she felt great, energized, ready to face any task and with new clarity of thought. About her life…and today, about Beast.

  ***

  She was trying to study, sitting at her table with her anatomy text open in front of her, but she was having a tough time of it. The problem was Beast. Every time she caught a glimpse of the flowers, Beast popped into her mind. Thoughts of him were like a Jack Russell Terrier jacked up on methamphetamine. She’d shove the thoughts aside, but they never stayed away for very long before they were back, yapping away and demanding her attention.

  She leaned back in the chair and placed her hands on the top of her head as she sighed and tilted her head back with closed eye
s to try to find her focus. She didn’t know why she was cramming. She was number three in her class, and if she didn’t know this shit by now, cramming wasn’t going to help. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling a moment. Maybe I just need to go take care of business. That’s the problem isn’t it? A gorgeous man paid attention to me, sent me flowers, and flattered me. She continued to look at the ceiling, wondering what he was like in bed, remembering how nice his kiss was, thinking about what else he could do with those lips.

  She growled and pushed back from the table. “Damnit!” she hissed softly as she rose, moved to her bed, and pulled her little friend out from under her panties in the bottom drawer of the side table. She tossed the vibrator onto the bed and began to unbutton her shirt. She was still disrobing when her phone rang with the first few bars of Elvis Presley’s You’re Nothing But A Hound Dog.