Sting cut her off by standing up and clearing his throat. “Look, Deputy,” he paused, motioning to Bronson. “Deputy Mayberry or whatever the hell your name is.”
“It’s Deputy Bronson.”
Durty groaned inwardly, knowing it was about to get bad with the chest bumping the two men were doing, scooting off the edge of the bed.
“If Durty says she doesn’t know what the hell happened because she was knocked out, then that’s what happened. This was a very traumatic event, which can cause situational amnesia. Soldiers go through it all the time.”
Her brows shot up in surprise as Durty looked up at Sting. God, she was grateful to have him there at that moment. It wasn’t every day a girl could have her very own knight in shining armor come to her rescue.
Bronson stepped closer to Sting, tilting his head just enough to meet his gaze, his voice lowering, in what Durty could only assume was his way of showing authority. “I don’t know who you are, but my questions were directed at Ms. Simons. I’m not interested in your comic routine or your theories on trauma patients. When you have a white coat on you that says doctor on your name tag, then maybe I might be interested in what you have to say.”
Durty needed to stop this pissing contest and quick, before it escalated into Sting being hauled out in cuffs. “Wait,” Durty exclaimed. “I think I remember one of them. He had to have had long hair, because he sure hit like a damn girl.”
Bronson’s face was the icing on the cake. It was a mixture of confusion, followed by anger, then a wry smile as he chuckled. “Cute. I’ll be sure to put that in the report.”
Sting covered his mouth, coughing to hide his laughter, turning away from the two of them.
Now that the tension was broken, Durty placed her hands on her hips. “Are we through, Jack? I need to go see Stellar before I leave.”
Bronson nodded, closing his notebook and stuffing it into his breast pocket. “Good luck with that. I just came from there and she’s still unconscious. So, while you keep making jokes about what happened, that girl is hanging on by a thread. You do understand I’m just trying to help out. I don’t want to be called back here in a day or two because one of you girls is in a damn body bag.”
Her face fell as her head dropped in despair. Durty was trying to keep the tears at bay, blinking rapidly, only to be followed by a sniffle. She knew Stellar stepped in to try and save the girls, and her heart was breaking that Stellar had her back and was hurt the most, all because she’d protected Durty without any thought to her own safety. Maybe if she hadn’t been such a smart-ass toward Cobra, Stellar wouldn’t be laying there, fighting for her life.
“If you remember anything else, give me a call.” Bronson held out a card toward Durty.
“I will, I promise.” Durty took the offered card and placed it in her pocket.
Bronson nodded, looking toward Sting before he stepped out of the room, the door swooshing closed behind him.
“Well, wasn’t that a barrel of laughs.” Sting looked over to Durty, his arms crossed over his chest again.
She knew that look all too well. Her father had given it to her more than once when he didn’t believe one of her stories. “What?”
“Let’s get you out of here and home, where it’s comfortable.”
The tone of his voice led her to believe they were far from done with the topic of the so-called robbery. It really wasn’t any of his business any way. Or so Durty kept telling herself.
“Yeah, okay.” Slipping past him, she pulled open the door. “You didn’t have to come get me, Sting. There’s no reason to get yourself tangled up in this mess. One of the girls would’ve picked me up.”
A scowl crept across his face, but was quickly gone as his jaw clenched, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m not going to argue with you, Durty. I’m here because I want to be. If you don’t want me here, just tell me, but don’t pass it off so easily.”
Durty flinched, but she couldn’t blame him. The guilt she felt was overwhelming and she couldn’t help but project it onto him. Not bothering to answer him, she stepped into the hallway, allowing him to take lead on guiding her out of the hospital.
Nothing was said by either as he led her out of the hospital and to the parking lot. Durty’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, though the main reoccurring theme was guilt. She knew she had to come clean to Lace about her mouth. She’d already told her they got smart with Cobra, but not to what extent, and that was why Stellar had to protect her. Durty’s stomach was in turmoil as she sat next to Sting in his truck, staring out the window, not seeing anything. The only words uttered were an occasional direction on how to get to her house.
Once inside, Sting made himself at home on her couch as she made them some hot chocolate. That was her cure-all. Feel bad? Drink a cup of chocolate topped with an unnatural heap of marshmallows.
Handing Sting his cup, she curled up in the corner of her couch, pulling a blanket over her lap. Pushing around her marshmallows with a spoon, she ignored the tear that trickled down her cheek.
“What’s the tear for?”
Absently wiping the tear away, Durty stared into her cup, lifting a single shoulder.
“What gives? I’m not really digging the silent treatment here, Durty. Something is obviously bothering you, and judging on how you treated the cop? I’d say you were feeding him a bullshit line or two.”
Lifting her gaze from her chocolatey goodness, Durty chewed on the inside of her cheek as she studied the man before her. The length of his hair was a cobweb of silvery gold with long sideburns beginning to fleck with grey. There were touches of humor around his mouth and the aquiline eyes, though currently his jaw was thrust forward in determination.
Sting’s features were so perfect, any more delicacy would’ve made him too beautiful for a man. His open shirt revealed a muscular chest covered with crisp light brown hair, the cut off sleeves showed toned arms that led to hands that looked strong and capable of causing damage if given the chance. Slim waist was followed by powerful thighs inside ripped jeans. The very thought of his body pressed against her own flared a desire deep inside of her she hadn’t felt in years.
Scrunching her face up, she tried to nestle down into the couch and get the images of his naked body out of her brain, but her breath caught as pain ripped through her lungs. “Fuck,” Durty hissed out, clenching her eyes closed, trying to will the pain away. “Will you please get me a pillow? I swear. Why do people always go for the damn ribs?”
Sting let out a rather exasperated sigh and set his cup on the table before he rose to go grab a pillow from her room. Coming back out, he was flattening the pillow as he rounded the table. “Where do you want it?”
“Behind my back, please.” Durty leaned forward slightly as he pushed the pillow behind her.
“Do you need any of your pain meds?”
She shook her head. “I don’t like pain meds. I stick to aspirin.”
He nodded, clearing his throat. “Since you don’t want to answer my questions, I’m going to let you rest. I’ll call later and check on you.”
“Wait,” Durty snatched his hand, pulling him back to the couch. “I’m not trying to avoid it, Sting. I promise. It’s just club shit. I don’t think you need to get involved.”
“I’m an employee. I’m already involved.”
Point taken.
“It’s not that simple.” Durty pursed her lips together as she searched his face, trying to determine if she should trust him with sensitive club information. “Can I really trust you?” She paused and took a sip of her drink, chewing on a half melted gooey ‘mello. “You have to promise me you won’t tell anybody. I’m serious, Sting. You cannot say a word.”
“What do you take me for? I don’t play high school games. What is said between us will stay between us.”
“Good, because what I’m about to tell you can get us both killed.”
Sting frowned, turning toward her on the couch. “What the hell have
you got yourself into?”
“Stellar, Fenix, and I were at Domino, getting it ready for opening. We had the door unlocked for Gipsy and Xander, but another club showed up. The Painted Warriors. They’re a MC that mostly stay on the res. But, we haven’t had good dealings with them, and one of their members is out bad.” Durty looked down at her cup before she continued. “Out bad is when the member has done something extremely counter to what the club stands for and is stripped of their cut and banned for life. Anyway.”
She drew in as deep of a breath as her ribs would allow her to, before the pain crept in. “They think we have something of theirs, and one of the main guys got mouthy and I admit it—I have a temper, and no filter. My mouth opened before my brain could stop it and I got sarcastic with him. Stellar had to step in and when she did, it got crazy. It was at least five guys to one female. We didn’t stand a chance.”
Sting just stared at her as if he were trying to process everything she told him. Licking his lips, his mouth opened, but nothing came out. It quickly closed, his eyes looking left to right, brows furrowing in what Durty could only assume was confusion. Opening his mouth once more, his head was slowly shaking as he said, “Fifteen?” He tilted his head to the right, a single brow rising up. “Let me get this straight. You started a fight with fifteen pissed off guys?”
Durty wanted to laugh as the myriad of facial expressions Sting was rolling through. “Yeah, like I said. Sometimes, I have anger issues.”
“Sometimes?”
She was able to giggle at his incredulous tone. “Yes, sometimes. But he was talking down to me and I snapped back.”
“Now I know why you didn’t tell Bronson. He’d have arrested you for stupidity.” He smiled, his blue eyes lit with laughter.
“Please, don’t make me laugh any more. My ribs can’t take it.”
He nodded, leaning his big frame into the couch. “So, this thing they think you have? Will they come back and try and get it? Or did you give it to them after the beat down?”
“They’ll come back.”
Sting frowned, narrowing his eyes at her. “Is there someone who can stay here with you? One of the other girls?”
Durty snorted and waved a hand in dismissal. “Nah, I don’t need a baby sitter.”
Sting growled low, his eyes flashing with possessiveness and hunger Durty hadn’t witness from any male in years. His voice was almost a whisper when he leaned closer to her. “Fine, you can babysit me while I sleep right here on the couch.” Smirking, he leaned back into couch. “Promise to tuck me in?”
Chapter 14
Room to Breathe
“No, he slept on the couch,” Durty muttered as she swiveled in her chair, trying to get comfortable sitting at the Muerte Roja’s table.
The girls were at the MRMC’s clubhouse, currently on loan to them, since the Warrior’s had all but torn theirs apart and it was on lockdown by the sheriff’s department while it was still under investigation.
It was odd sitting at their table when she was used to being comfortable in Lace’s office, on a couch. Now, thirteen women sat at an unfamiliar table, ready to discuss retaliation and other topics.
“Why the hell did you make him sleep on your couch?” Flames shook her head, the mass of dark curls bouncing around her face.
“It’s comfortable?” Durty snorted, wincing as she shifted in her seat. “I’m not going to invite him into my bed that easily.”
“I’m starting to think you might need one of my guys to help you out there, Durty,” Stiletto offered up. “I’ve got a couple who could make you rethink your life choices.”
Stiletto was the owner of a successful escort service, specializing in the male companionship for business women who needed a date but didn’t want the attachments of a relationship or have the time for one. She had women on her roster as well, but the men were the draw.
“Speaking of which,” Viper spoke up from across the table. “We need to get some man candy for the bar. The guys have pass arounds, so why can’t we?”
“Because most men who look the way you want, Viper, are gay,” Lace said as she strolled into the room, closing the door behind her. “Plus, WMC’s are rare. We don’t have parties like the guys do. They have more men than we have women.”
“And guys don’t whore themselves out like the Shades,” Curby said. The Shades were the pass arounds that belonged to the Roja’s—women who took care of the men in whatever capacity they wanted, whether it be mentally or sexually. Most of the women were looking to become ol’ladies to a patch holder.
Stiletto chuckled and tapped her index finger on the table. “We can use my guys behind the bar to attract attention, and honestly? We all know how dirty women really are. You offer up man candy to them, and we’ll rule the MC world when it comes to pass arounds, because we can offer up men and women with my stock.”
“Hmm,” Lace nodded. “Point taken. We’ll put it up to vote. Viper?”
Viper rose, dual colored gaze roaming over the women in the room. “All cell phones out in the main room and off?”
Durty, along with the other women acknowledged they’d followed protocol before Viper spoke again.
“Stellar’s vote today will be proxy, given to us by Curby. Everyone else is in attendance. I call the meeting into order.”
Durty frowned, once again being reminded Stellar protected her and was now lying unconscious due to her mouth. Curby and Stellar were best friends, Curby knowing better than anyone on how Stellar would vote, if she was able too.
“Sounds good. Our first topic today is the Roja’s. Steel was nice enough to lend us their chapel room until I can get us a new clubhouse. We need to figure out a way to thank them for their generosity. We can discuss that at length later. Steel did put out an offer that we need to vote on.”
Lace sighed, scooting down in her chair, crossing a jean clad leg over the other. “He wants in on the Battleground. They have their own bookie style business on the side and want to set up shop during the nights we hold the fights. Add some betting on the combatants, since all we really do is side betting.”
Curby frowned, her head tilting slightly to the right. “They offering a kickback?”
Lace nodded, “Only five percent since they have to kick up ten to Santa Muerte.”
Gipsy crinkled her nose, curling a leg under her. “I don’t know. Five percent isn’t that much.”
Durty cleared her throat before she chimed in. “We get money from the concessions and donations made by the challengers. It’s not like we’re hurting from it.”
Stiletto grinned, brushing a blonde lock from her eyes. “See, more man candy strolling around if we let them.”
Viper groaned, burying her face in her hands, her voice muffled as she spoke. “Is there any male out there that you wouldn’t screw?”
“Depends on what other men are around. Are we talking being stuck on a deserted island? Is there a bar around? I need more info here.”
Lace rapped her knuckles on the table. “Enough. Back to the topic here.”
Flames lifted her hand up. “I say we weigh the pros and cons.”
“Agreed.” Lace gave a single nod. “Pros?”
“The kickback.”
“Maybe more people come in, if the guys get involved?” Fenix piped in.
Durty nodded, surprised Lace allowed the prospect to be in the meeting. “She’s right. We’d have more of a reach adding them in.”
Jazz, one of the other girls spoke up. “But that forces a con. They’re men. They’re going to want to control how things go.”
“Good point,” Flames muttered, patting Jazz on the back.
“They might try and change things, find other things they want to control. Or try and add more to what we’ve got going on.”
“Stiletto is right,” Viper conceded. “This is our show. If we let them in, we become a sideline. We’re just the broads who provide the drinks and entertainment. Is
five percent really worth it?”
Lace sucked in her breath and nodded. “Alright, let’s vote. All of those in favor of having the Roja’s set up a gambling ring say Aye.”
Durty hated voting like this. It seemed unfair knowing who wanted versus who didn’t. She always felt votes should be anonymous. Like the men did, in most cases. A box would be passed around, you stuck in either a white marble or a black marble. One black marble and the offer was off the table. She knew Lace felt this made things honest, but Durty couldn’t help that sometimes a vote might be swayed by the ability of peer pressure and not wanting to be the one to say no.
“Alright,” Lace puckered her lips, followed by a click of her tongue ring against her teeth. “The vote is nine to four. The guys remain out. I’ll let Steel know. Next business.” A frown marred Lace’s brow. “The events from the other night.”
Durty’s stomach sank. She knew this moment was going to happen, but that didn’t prepare her for the feelings of guilt to nearly swallow her whole. She had to come clean and let Lace know the real reason Cobra and the Warriors attacked like they did.
Once Lace recounted what happened, she put an offer on the table. “I’m guessing we might need a couple of more guys as bouncers to the roster, once we get the bar open again.”
Viper threw up her hands. “Hallelujah!”
Durty’s brows shot up, surprised by the way Viper loudly agreed. Durty figured she, of all people, would be the first to shoot down the idea. “You agree?”
Viper shot a look her way that held a note of mockery. “I might be a bad ass, Durty, but I know my limitations. Facing fifteen guys against three women is not the best of odds, even in Vegas.”
“It’s not only just hiring more men, it’s having to extend their hours. They’ll need to be here when the girls are setting up for the night and after, escorting to the bank. Since Brett and Xander already know the routine, those two can have the extra hours, no need to try and train anyone else,” Lace bantered back.
“There’s more to the story,” Durty blurted out, scarcely aware of her own voice. Her stomach was clenched tight and her pulse erratic as she stirred uneasily in her chair.
Policy of Truth (Sacred Heart Continuum Series Book 1) Page 9
