Teller (Tarnished Souls MC Book 4)

by Dusty Lassetter

  “Listen son,” Buck starts to say before he is interrupted by one of the twits in the back.

  “He’s not your son, old man. Take your shitty bikes and move them before we have a problem.”

  Some of the members of their group flinch when Buck lets out a laugh that sounds like the devil himself finds them funny. I can tell my pres is trying hard not to hit someone the same age as his daughter, but if they were to insist I don’t think he would allow the issue to stop him. When Taz and I take our place beside Torch, the men start to look at each other in a way that tells me everything I need to know. Taz and I are the biggest in our club, and these men intend on doubling up to take us on. Here’s the thing, I have been needing an outlet to take some of my anger out on. The bikes at the shop aren’t cutting it anymore. The man in front of me visibly swallows after seeing the look in my eyes. His senses are alerting him to impending danger, and before he has time to scurry off, I reach forward. Grabbing the little prick by the neck, I enjoy the sound of his surprised yelp.

  That’s all it takes. Before I can even blink, men start clashing together like a scene from the movie Troy. Arms are flailing, fists are landing, and bodies are literally flying through the air. We don’t even have time to make sure the women are far enough away from the mayhem. I take several shots to the back of the head, all the while containing my grip on my first victims neck. I don’t want to kill him, I just enjoy the look of absolute fear in his eyes at not knowing my true intentions. To this idiot, I am crazy enough to squeeze the life out of him. Why else would I grab his throat?

  Then, like a group of lionesses, the women in our group let out ferocious roars before lunging forward to take part in the craziness. Mia easily overpowers the runt of their group while Rebecca jumps on the back of the man trying to attack Hammer. She latches onto his golden-boy locks and pulls. The sudden change of events has my brothers trying to desperately control their women. Ashley, with her sister Allison who was riding with Buck, are now tag-teaming the bigger man that was getting his ass handed to him by Irish. I’m not sure if they even realize they are only getting in my brother’s way. Has all the isolation from the past few months made these women go insane? Are my brother’s becoming pussies that can’t control their women?

  Some of the men in their group take advantage of me and Taz not having anyone to help because Serenity and Scarlett were smart enough to listen, and soon we are outnumbered. There are six of them, and only two of us. While the rest of our brothers try to pull the women off these blubbering fools, me and my VP look at each other with a smile on our faces.

  “Release him,” I am ordered by a man wearing a tight blue shirt. His hair is cut into a mohawk, but without the gel to keep it up it looks more like a landing strip. It isn’t until he pulls out a knife that I start to take him somewhat serious.

  Chunking his friend that has now pissed his pants to the ground, I turn my full attention to the asshole with the weapon. I’m instantly surprised when I see a blur of red hair before I hear the man holding the weapon holler out in pain.

  “You fucking bitch,” he starts to take a step in Scarlett’s direction but is immediately stopped when my fist lands a solid hit to the side of his jaw. With a chin made of glass, the unlucky fucker is asleep before his body hits the dirty asphalt.

  It isn’t until I see the small trail of blood coming from the hand he was holding the knife in that I realize Scarlett has cut him. The wound isn’t deep, and probably won’t even require a band aid, but it is there. The fighting around us suddenly stops. All the Tarnished Souls members are looking in Scarlett’s direction with concern as the pussy bikers start trying to wake their friend up. Leaning down to pick up the knife he had planned on using on me, I place it in my pocket for safe keeping.

  I turn my attention to Scarlett only to find she is as pale as a ghost. Why did she attack this man knowing the repercussions it could have? Someone like her that has seen and been through what she has can’t handle violence. When you live through hell, you come out stronger or weaker. There is no in-between. I’m tougher because of my childhood. It’s no secret Scarlett is weaker because of hers.

  She’s about to freak out, and I’m not the only person that notices. I see Mia and Rebecca rushing to be at her side, but I don’t give them the chance to reach her. Taking her hand in mine, I lead Scarlett to my bike, and place a helmet on her head. I do a quick check to make sure my bike is ready to go before starting it up and taking off. Scarlett will have time to calm down on the way back to the clubhouse, but once we are there I’ll want answers to the questions I have.

  It doesn’t take long after we pull up for me to notice that Sammy is waiting outside the clubhouse sitting in Hammer’s truck with a face full of panic. She drove to the lake with her son, and must have seen the chaos that was happening at the gas station. No one would blame her for not stopping to assist us. Sammy put her child’s safety first, and that is something my own mother never did. Hammer’s windows are tinted so I can’t exactly make out what she has gripped in her hands, but I would have to guess it’s a cell phone. She probably wanted to call someone for help, but knew she had no one to turn to.

  I park my bike inside the shop where I am working on what remains of Saint’s destroyed chopper. I feel Scarlett slide off the seat which allows me to follow in her lead. When she moves to make her exit through the large rolling door we just entered, I stop her before she gets out of reach.

  For the first time since I’ve started to get to know her, Scarlett stays silent. She doesn’t ask the question that is dancing around in her eyes. Instead, she looks at me in a way that suggests she will willingly do what I want. I point to her chest, then to the ground. The gesture is simple enough that anyone with eyes would be able to understand it. Once again, surprising me by not commenting Scarlett gives me a gentle nod in understanding. Knowing she is going to obey my command makes it easy to walk by her, and out of the shop. I need to go make sure Sammy isn’t having a heart attack in the cab of Hammer’s truck. She must be scared, and despite my better judgement I find that I actually care. I can’t figure out if it’s because of her close friendship with my brother, or the fact that she’s a damn good mother to a kid anyone else would have terminated.

  Once I get to the driver side door of the solid-black Dodge Ram, I lightly tap the window to get Sammy’s attention. Her body nearly comes flying out of the roof from the jump my unsuspecting noise causes her to make. Had I known she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings, I would have made it a point to be as loud as possible. If I was ever wondering how she was abducted I no longer need to.

  “You scared me,” Sammy says, stating the obvious while grabbing at her chest. Probably trying to make sure her heart stays where it belongs.

  Not bothering to comment, for obvious reasons, I pry the phone from her hands. With quick work, I manage to type out a message on her notepad that explains Torch and Mia are on their way. Tossing the device back into the truck I move to walk away.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop.”

  The fact that she is apologizing for keeping her son safe is not lost on me. It’s not uncommon for victims like herself to feel obligated to help those who have helped her. I know my bond with Saint grew after he saved my life, and I always felt I needed to remind him he was smart for protecting me. Not bothering to turn around, I continue to walk back to the only person I care to be around right now. Scarlett attacked a man that was attempting to scare me away with his tiny knife. I’m almost positive she was convinced that small blade could hurt me, but I wasn’t concerned. She surprises me more and more every day. I want to know why she did it, and she is going to tell me.

  When I step back into the shop, I can see that she has literally not moved an inch since I’ve been gone. Raising my arm to grab the handle of the sliding door, I easily reach it and begin to slide the metal door down. If Scarlett is scared to be closed off with me in this cluttered space she gives no indication of it. Before the door
can shut all the way, I leave it halfway open long enough to flip the switch on the wall to my right. I hate to use the light above because the damn thing is too bright for my liking, but I can’t exactly communicate in the dark without talking, and I have no intention of letting Scarlett manipulate me again.

  Something I’ve learned through my years of being a mute is if you stare at someone long enough they will tell you everything they think you want to know. Making sure to lock the door once I’ve finished closing it with my booted foot, I stand to my full height. When she doesn’t immediately say anything, I cross my arms. This allows her to understand I have no intention on either one of us leaving until I get my answers. I’ve chosen to have this conversation outside the house because I don’t need Mia or anyone else butting in when they make it back.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she mumbles. “I should have stayed by the motorcycle like you ordered.”

  Now that she mentions it, I find that I am irritated my orders fell on deaf ears. If she had been hurt there would be no way for me to get to Slasher. Of course, I can’t argue this fact with her. Scarlett must never know that I intend to use her as bait. Not only will it ruin my plan, it will also ruin my relationship with every one of my brothers. Torch would most likely try to kill me, and the others would probably let him.

  “I just wanted to help you.”

  I continue to watch Scarlett, making sure to take in her body language so I can get a good read on the situation. Yes, she’s nervous, but that could be for multiple reasons. I have a feeling this girl has never attacked anyone until today, and I’m certain there is another reason other than her wanting to help me.

  “Can you please say something. Anything.”

  The only reaction she gets from using her pleading tone is for me to tilt my head to the right while making sure to relay my answer through the look on my face. Scarlett isn’t the one calling the shots, I am.

  “I won’t do this,” she states after seconds have ticked by without me saying anything. I can see the frustration and worry starting to cloud her eyes, and the knowledge that she still sees me as a threat forces me to take my overbearing attitude down a notch. I remind myself that I need her to trust me in some degree.

  “P…P…Please move.”

  She is asking me to move, yet she has made no effort to get closer to the door. In fact, she hasn’t moved an inch. Seeing that Scarlett is boxed in between my motorcycle and Saint’s chopper, I do as she asks and move. The one thing she wasn’t counting on was for me to close the distance between us. Like a rabbit being hunted by a coyote, she starts to back up. When her bare legs bump into the cold steel of my exhaust, there is a flash of panic that crosses her face. There is nowhere for her to run and hide. She’s trapped. It isn’t until this moment that my conscience starts to notice how much her fear affects me. The way her big green eyes are staring into mine is enough to let me know I could possibly feel something for this girl. It’s too bad she is the only way for me to get to Slasher. My brother Saint comes before all others. Even if she has managed to make me feel something other than anger.

  “Teller.”

  The terror in her voice forces me to stop before I want. If it were up to me I would be all the way in her personal space making sure the only thing she saw, smelled, or felt was me. I need her to know that I will not tolerate her putting herself at risk even if her claims are true, and it was to help me.

  “There will be consequences for not listening.”

  Even though I hate to talk, and promised myself I wouldn’t allow her to manipulate me again, I don’t regret the seven words I just spoke. The look on her face actually makes me happy, and that is a feeling I haven’t felt in some time. I might as well have fun playing with this little rabbit before it’s time to place her into a trap she won’t be able to escape. Since Saint’s been gone, I’ve not had a lot of entertainment in my life. I think Scarlett will be able to help me with that.

  Leaving her to watch my retreating back, I walk to the door and easily slide it open. It takes no time at all for me to see Mia and Rebecca storming in our direction. These nosey bitches really need to find someone else to concern themselves with. Scarlett is mine for as long as she is here, and I’ll do whatever I want with her.

  Scarlett

  Waiting is probably the hardest thing for anyone in my circumstance to do. It’s been two weeks since Teller promised me there would be consequences for disobeying his orders. I was on the verge of having a complete panic attack when he locked us away in his garage and proceeded to challenge my motives behind helping him. One could make the argument that I told him the truth. I was trying to help him, but only because I thought it would move me up the short list of people he trusts. I guess I was naive to think attempting to save his life would be anything more than an error in judgment. It’s now become a mistake I’ll eventually pay for. I just hope it’s quick and painless.

  “Scarlett, did you hear me?” Mia’s voice breaks through my thoughts. Shaking my head to clear the rest of the fog, I start blinking my eyes to regain focus on the people in front of me. The girls and I are having a movie night tonight. Rebecca insisted we do this because lately the vibes around the clubhouse have been anything but warm. Ashley is on her way to making a full recovery after her near suicidal attempt, but the doctors recommended she go to a psychiatric ward. Thankfully, Casey was able to still be her therapist, even if Irish doesn’t agree with that decision. I think he loves Ashley so much he allows it to interfere with his thinking ability. Obviously, Casey would be the best therapist for her right now regardless of what happened in that bedroom two weeks ago.

  “Scarlett Ray.”

  The use of my middle name has me scrunching my nose in disgust. I hate that I have the same name as a mullet sporting country singer. I wonder if he ever thinks about how ridiculous it is to sing about aching hearts when there are actual terrible things going on in the world.

  “What movie do you want to watch next?” Sammy asks the question while picking up the baby monitor for the hundredth time tonight. Torch is babysitting Kaeper in the next room, but you would think by mama bear’s reaction that my nephew was left alone with a group of hungry vampires.

  “Give me,” Rebecca says to her. She patiently waits for Sammy to remove the device from her ear and place on her waiting palm.

  “I don’t care what we watch,” I mumble.

  To be honest the popcorn tastes like cardboard, the soda is flat, and there will be no enjoying anything in this life until Teller finally puts me out of my misery and makes good on his threat. I knew he was a sadistic man, but making me wait this long is a whole new level of mean.

  “Let’s watch Next Friday,” Mia suggests.

  When all of us start agreeing to the choice of movie, the door suddenly bursts open. I cringe when the sound of the brass nob hitting the wall makes a loud thump. It reminds me of the noises I try to never think of. Gaining control of my body, I look up to see Teller standing in the doorway with his blue eyes focused only on me. He holds up his hand to curve his long index finger in a gesture that says he wants me to come to him.

  This is it. The moment I have been dreading is finally here, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Teller has a claim on me. One that I willingly accepted because the protection it would bring me. I haven’t regretted that decision until now.

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Mia states, standing up to move between me and the door. All it takes is one low warning growl from the beastly biker for her to plop back down on her backside. Mia is brave, but even she knows not to stand toe-to-toe with the devil. In this moment, that is exactly what Teller looks likes. He’s wearing all black. Even the chains hanging down his pockets hold a promise of pain and torture. By removing them from his jeans he has a creative weapon that can be used to choke the life out of any living thing.

  “Oh snap,” I hear Rebecca say as a smirk forms on Teller’s face. I’ve always gotten the impression he does
n’t care for Mia too much, and he’s obviously getting pleasure in seeing the look of fear on her face. Before the situation can spiral out of control, I quickly rise to my feet.

  “I’ll be back,” I state with a false sense of confidence.

  The look of satisfaction on Teller’s face causes a strange feeling to bloom in my chest, but he doesn’t give me time to debate what the cause of the unknown emotion is. As soon as I am in the hallway, he tosses a pair of grey coveralls at me. Catching them to my chest, I ask the obvious question.

  “You want me to put these on?”

  Teller nods his head, but his normal look of annoyance is starting to line his face. I’ve come to notice that is his go to expression when he’s with me.

  “Alright,” I mumble, trying to make my way around his large frame so I can get to the bathroom. When he reaches out and stops me from moving, I quickly look in his direction. The only way for me to really know what he is expecting of me is to look at him. I’ve become better at reading his body language and understanding his small gestures to know what he is trying to say.

  “You want me to change here?”

  Rolling his eyes, an action I’ve never seen before, he snatches the material from my hold. Unzipping the front of the coveralls, Teller drops to his knees and holds the pieces of fabric open enough for me to step into. Suddenly, it dawns on me that I am supposed to wear this over my worn-out pajamas.

  “No need in being so cranky,” I murmur.

  Of course, Teller has no comeback to my statement. He just allows me to wiggle into the coveralls before rising back up to fully close me in with a long zipper. Standing in front of him wearing these manly things, I can’t help but smile when I look down to see a bunch of holes in the fabric.