1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Fourteen

by Kristen Ashley

  Shade’s voice rose as he stalked toward me, all lean strength and grace. Pure predator. I froze, trying to figure out my next move as his words slowly sunk in.

  “Wait,” I said, raising a hand. He glared at it, and I dropped it back down again, wringing my fingers together nervously. “What are you talking about?”

  “You came here of your own free will,” Shade snapped. “Don’t play stupid.”

  “I came here to drive Rebel’s truck back home for him,” I replied, more confused by the minute. “Then you brought me here and dragged me inside. How the hell is that teasing? You scare the shit out of me—I don’t even like serving you drinks at the Pit, let alone visiting your stupid clubhouse!”

  My voice had grown shrill, the last few words almost a scream.

  Shade stilled.

  “What did Rebel tell you?” he asked, his voice going so cold that it was almost scarier than when he’d been yelling. Oh my God, he was going to murder me and then my sister wouldn’t have anyone to help with the kids and they’d bury me in an unmarked grave and squirrels would eat my eyeballs and—

  Mandy! Pull your shit together!

  “He told me that he’s buying a motorcycle from you,” I said hesitantly. “He wanted to pick it up tonight. He said you were giving him a bargain, and that if he waited you might change your mind. I’m just here to drive the truck back after he gets the bike.”

  Shade stared at me, his expression unreadable.

  “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

  “It’s not stupid to help out my boyfriend!”

  “It is when your boyfriend sets you up. If you were just comin’ to pick up a bike, why didn’t you ride with him?” Shade asked, the words slow and steady. Like I was a particularly dim child.

  Jerkface.

  “Because he has a bunch of shit loaded in the truck cab. He didn’t come to the bar expecting to buy a bike tonight. He asked me to ride with you because there wasn’t room with him.”

  But as soon as the words were out, I could see his point. Rebel’s excuse to get me on Shade’s bike was weak. Really weak. But it wasn’t like I went around expecting my boyfriend to…do what? Something wrong, but I still had no clue what the hell was really going on here.

  “I’m gonna kill him,” Shade said slowly, running a hand through his hair. This gave it a sexy, tousled look that would’ve been very attractive if I hadn’t been so busy trying not to pee my pants. “Piece of shit needs to go down.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Rebel traded you to me.”

  The words were blunt.

  Harsh.

  Impossible to wrap my head around. I opened my mouth to ask a question, then snapped it shut again because I wasn’t even sure what question to ask. I mean, I’d heard what he said, but it didn’t make any sense.

  “He traded you to me,” Shade repeated without a hint of compassion in his eyes. “For the bike. He was short on cash and he knew that I wanted you, so that’s what he offered. I asked if you were okay with it and you said yes. So here we are.”

  “I…” My mouth wouldn’t work right. It was like the muscles had gone into shock or something. “H-he traded me?”

  “Like a baseball card.”

  Words failed me. Oh my God. This isn’t happening, is it? Thoughts swirled through my head, along with about a thousand different emotions, but one slowly won out.

  Anger.

  Raw, unadulterated fury.

  Shade wasn’t going to kill Rebel. Oh, no. If anyone slit that fucker’s throat, it’d be me. But first I’d amputate his balls with a very rusty spoon. Maybe make him eat them.

  “What the hell is wrong with you people?” I finally managed to ask. “You can’t trade a human being! Rebel’s my boyfriend, not my fucking owner! And who the hell accepts a person as a trade for a bike?”

  Shade gave me a twisted smile.

  “A Reaper.”

  That sent a chill down my spine because, crazy as it sounded, the man was dead serious.

  “In the MC world, you’re property,” he added bluntly. “How the hell did you spend so much time with his club and not pick up on that?”

  This was a good question.

  I’d seen the vests some women wore, saying property of and their boyfriend’s names… It’d always seemed kind of weird. Maybe even cute, in a very politically incorrect way. I hadn’t taken it literally, let alone given it serious thought.

  Truthfully, I hadn’t given much of anything about Rebel a lot of thought.

  That’d been one of the chief benefits of having him as a boyfriend, given the train wreck my marriage had been. I didn’t have to think about him or worry or plan for the future. We were just having fun together. No stress, no expectations. Just him and me hanging out, riding his bike and occasionally getting drunk and going down on each other. After all the shit I’d gone through with Trevor, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted a “real” relationship again.

  “Okay,” I said, my brain spinning. “Okay, we need to figure this out. Is Rebel coming here?”

  “No, he’ll pick you up tomorrow, assuming you still want to go with him. And don’t worry—he’ll show up. No bike until he brings the cash.”

  “Wait, I thought I was the payment.”

  Shade cocked a brow, a mocking smile twisting his mouth. “It’s a three thousand dollar bike. He was short five hundred. You didn’t actually think I’d give him a fucking motorcycle worth three grand just to bang his girlfriend, did you?”

  I blinked.

  What he’d said wasn’t exactly flattering, but it was hard to argue. Would I pay three thousand bucks to have sex with someone? Hell, no. Not even David Beckham, and I’d loved him fiercely ever since I’d learned there was a difference between girl parts and boy parts. I shot a glance at Shade, realizing he looked more than a little like Becks, come to think of it. There was just something about him…

  No. Just no.

  “I wouldn’t have thought you’d need to pay women to sleep with you,” I said, then gave myself a mental kick because that was way too revealing. Shade smiled and took another step toward me. I swallowed. “That came out wrong. I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can just forget this happened? I mean, obviously I’m going to kill Rebel, but that doesn’t really have anything to do with you…”

  Well, aside from the fact that he’d been the one on the other end of the trade. Five hundred bucks. I couldn’t tell if that was a flattering amount or not.

  “I’ll take care of Rebel,” Shade said, his voice casual but his eyes all business. “If you wanna leave, feel free.”

  I reached for the door, opening it to find two women making out in the hallway, complete with hands on each other’s asses and tongues down each other’s throats. A couple of very drunk-looking men watched, one with his hand down his pants. I slammed the door shut and turned to find Shade watching me closely.

  “Change your mind?” he asked, cocking a brow. “Not like you’re a prisoner here.”

  Yeah, right. Nobody but Rebel knew where I was. I didn’t even have a phone. Even if I made it back through the clubhouse safely, I’d still have to walk miles before I reached town.

  “Um, can I borrow your phone? Mine fell in the toilet this morning. I’m pretty sure it’s dead.”

  “No service out here,” Shade said, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Of course you could use the landline. Assuming you can find one of the officers and convince him your phone call is more important than whatever—whoever—he’s doing.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think.

  “Will you help me?” I finally asked. Shade shrugged.

  “Maybe later,” he said. “But right now I’m more interested in gettin’ my dick sucked. I was under the impression you had a happy ending for me.”

  I shivered, torn between disgust and a sick curiosity about what a happy ending with Shade would feel like. God knew I wouldn’t be having any happy endings with Rebel any time soon—whatever
else came out of tonight, our relationship was over.

  Now what?

  “Tell you what,” Shade said slowly. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  I didn’t want to trust him, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of choices here. “I’m listening…”

  “We’ll compromise,” he continued. “Tonight didn’t go right for either of us. Let’s have a drink and relax for a while, then I’ll go find someone to suck my dick and you can crash here. You’ll be fine. Not a man in this building is stupid enough to fuck with my woman.”

  “I’m not your woman,” I insisted quickly, and he cocked that brow again.

  “You’re in my room and you’re gonna sleep in my bed tonight. You’re under my protection. Makes you my woman, at least in their eyes. That means nobody’ll touch you without my permission, and tomorrow I’ll take you home, safe and sound.”

  “And what do you get out of this?” I asked, suspicious. Shade turned away, walking over to a dresser I hadn’t noticed before. On the top was a bottle of what looked like whiskey, along with some plastic cups.

  “I’m not getting jack shit,” he said, opening the bottle and pouring a drink. “Which is why you should take me up on it before I change my mind. You wanna be pissed at someone, save it for your loser boyfriend.”

  He filled the second cup, then turned to me, holding it out. I considered, wondering if he was planning to drug me or something. God, how had I gotten into this?

  How many times do you have to get screwed over before you learn, Mandy?

  “What, you scared I’m gonna roofie you?” Shade asked. The words were ugly but he seemed more amused than anything. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but you aren’t worth a felony. I mean, you got a nice ass, but life is too fuckin’ short to spend it in jail. Not only that, unlike your boyfriend, I’m not a fuckin’ liar. I’m gonna do something to you, I’ll tell you because I’m not a little bitch.”

  While I wasn’t a huge fan of the “little bitch” reference, I had to admit it summed up my feelings toward Rebel pretty well. And a drink really would be good… I reached for the cup, knocking it back quickly. Its smooth burn startled me because it was good—really good. Whiskey wasn’t my favorite, but I’d served enough of it to know this wasn’t the cheap-ass shit Bone kept on the bottom shelf. Shade gave a low laugh, knocking back his own shot. I felt the alcohol warm me as he refilled the glasses. Drinking any more was probably a bad idea, but I could probably sip at it without getting wasted.

  There’s a time and a place for liquid courage.

  Shade turned and sat down on the bed, leaning against the backboard. He took another swallow of whiskey while I searched for a place to sit. My options were the bed or the floor, so I leaned back against the door instead.

  “So…” I said, wondering what the hell to talk about. Shade eyed me, and while there was still heat in his gaze, I wasn’t getting the same sense of threat from him. He’d relaxed, I realized. He really wasn’t coming after me.

  Disappointed? I asked myself. Don’t be a moron. This is a gift. Take it.

  Maybe Shade and I could become friends and he’d help me hide Rebel’s body. He probably knows all the best ways to kill someone without making a mess.

  This was the kind of information I needed.

  “What the hell are you doing with a piece of shit like Rebel?” Shade asked, raising one of his legs and resting the arm holding the glass across his knee. The fabric of his jeans pulled tight between his legs and—

  I looked away, suddenly fascinated by the hole where he’d punched the wall.

  “You gonna answer the question?” Shade asked, sounding amused. I glanced back toward him.

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe we’re soul mates,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. Damn, that was really smooth. Shade cocked a brow and laughed.

  “No, probably not. Seriously—why the hell are you with him? Rebel’s a piece of shit.”

  “He’s cute,” I said, flushing because the answer was so stupid. “I’m shallow, all right? And he’s fun. I never thought there was any potential for a future there, but that’s not what I’m looking for. I just wanted someone to hang out with. And…okay, this part is really embarrassing.”

  I shot another look at him. Shade waited patiently. No pressure. I felt myself relaxing more.

  “I thought he was sexy on his bike,” I admitted. “He asked me out and we had fun. I started hanging around with his riding club a lot, and I liked them, too. That’s how I got the job at the Pit.”

  “You know he’s cheating on you, right?” Shade asked casually. My stomach clenched, although I didn’t know why. I’d suspected it already, and considering the guy had tried to trade me for a motorcycle, it wasn’t like I had any illusions that he was a keeper.

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Sure,” Shade said. “You’re new to the area. How’d you end up in Violetta?”

  “How do you know I’m new?” I asked, startled.

  “Because I made it my business to know,” he replied. “Hand me the bottle.”

  I stepped over to the dresser and grabbed it, walking hesitantly toward the bed. I expected him to take it but he held out his glass instead. Pouring carefully, I gave him a refill.

  “You can sit down,” he said, glancing toward the empty space beside him. “If I was going to pull something, I would’ve by now.”

  “You sure you aren’t just trying to get me drunk so I’ll have sex with you?” I asked. Then I gave myself a mental kick, because that’s the kind of thing you think, not the kind of thing you say. Shade burst out laughing and for once the sound wasn’t mocking.

  “Of course I’m trying to get you drunk,” he said. “I want to fuck you—this isn’t a secret. But I’m also not a fuckin’ rapist—think we covered that already—so all you have to do is say no and you’ll be fine. In the meantime, you might as well take a break, because I’m not getting up and you’re gonna get tired of standing eventually.”

  I was tired, actually, and my feet hurt. They always did after a shift at the bar. The bed looked comfortable enough and mostly clean. Not only that, Shade genuinely wasn’t putting any moves on me. He seemed to be relaxed and enjoying his drink.

  “Okay,” I said, expecting him to scoot over and make room.

  “You wanna climb over me or use those legs of yours to walk around to the other side?” he asked, sounding amused. “I’m not moving my ass just so you can steal the warm spot.”

  “You sure aren’t…”

  Shade’s mouth quirked. “Aren’t what?”

  “Aren’t trying very hard to get me into bed,” I said. A giggle broke free and I felt my cheeks warm. Shade shrugged.

  “We covered this. Now you sitting your ass down or not? I want another drink, so hand that bottle over.”

  “You’re full of shit!” I said, waving my hand grandly. My drink sloshed and I licked the side of the cup, because this whiskey was way too good to waste even a single drop. “Wonder Woman is better than Batman. She’s got real power, not just fancy toys. Although she has those, too, which means anything Batman can do, she can do better.”

  “Nope,” Shade said, shaking his head seriously. “She’s hot, I’ll give her that, but he’d take her in a fair fight.”

  I held up a hand for him to wait as I polished off my booze.

  “No way. She’s a goddess of war and she’s one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in history. She’s got an invisible jet, for God’s sake. How can you compete with that? All he has is a bunch of money and the stupid Batmobile.”

  “Hand over the cup,” Shade said, narrowing his eyes.

  “Why?” I asked, narrowing mine right back. I was good and drunk now, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to be done for the night.

  “Demonstration,” he replied. “C’mon. Or are you chicken?”

  “What are we, kindergartners?”

  “You’re the one insisting Wonder Woman can take Batman,” he replied. �
�Chicken.”

  Then he leaned toward me, raising a single finger to poke me in the center of my chest. Not copping a feel or anything remotely sexual, either. This was pure taunt. I handed him the cup and he tossed it on the floor, nearly falling off the bed in the process. I smirked—guess I wasn’t the only drunk one. Then he started listing to the side and I lunged for him, grabbing his shirt to keep him from going over.

  Shade caught my arm, using the momentum to pull me onto his body with sudden force. My hands hit his chest and I raised my head to stare at him, stunned.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked. Shade wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight to his body.

  “Demonstrating.”

  I frowned, trying to figure it out, and then he rolled over, pinning me with his body. One of his knees came down between my thighs, spreading my legs. My hands were trapped tight against his chest, our faces inches apart. My head spun from the booze and as he grinned at me, I realized I’d made a very serious mistake.

  Shade was nowhere near as drunk as me.

  Not even close.

  “Batman will always win,” he said, giving me that same predatory look that’d scared the crap out of me earlier. It still scared me a little, but it was exciting, too. I could smell him, all leather and whiskey and pure sex. There was something about being held down like this…like I could just relax and let it happen, without having to take responsibility for it.

  Shut the fuck up, Mandy. You think Wonder Woman would settle for this?

  She really wouldn’t.

  “You should let me go,” I told Shade, my voice firm.

  “Admit that Batman would beat Wonder Woman and I will,” he said, his voice penetrating the fog clogging my mind. “He’s stronger and he can hold his liquor better. It’s basic physics. Throw in some chemistry with all that body mass and Wonder Woman doesn’t have a chance.”

  “Fuck you,” I whispered, mesmerized. There were tingles rushing through me and my head was spinning. All I could see were his eyes, dark and pulsing with something that had absolutely nothing to do with the relative fighting strengths of superheroes.

  “You can fuck me any time you want, baby,” he said. The words were low, grating with a need so intense I clenched my thighs. Stop this. Stop it right now or you’ll let him do it. I lunged toward him with my teeth and he laughed, pinning me with his hips, his cock rock hard against my stomach.