1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Fourteen

by Kristen Ashley

  By the end of the night my balls were blue and I’d been frustrated as hell, but there’d been relief, too. I’d seen the fury in her eyes when she’d realized what he’d done.

  Fuckin’ gorgeous, that.

  “Rebel’s out in front of the clubhouse,” said McClane. He was a local brother who’d been assigned to help me out as needed, and the man was damned good at his job. “Your girl’s about to kill him with her bare hands. Wonderin’ if you want us to step in?”

  His face was carefully blank, but I saw the hint of humor in his eyes.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked, reaching for my boots.

  “It’s pretty funny,” he said, studying me. “You fuck her last night?”

  “Nope.”

  He smiled. “So she’s not a whore?”

  “Not Rebel’s whore, anyway,” I said, holding back my own grin. “Who’s out there with her?”

  “Half the clubhouse,” he replied. “Everyone’s waiting for you. Not club business, but we don’t want your woman gettin’ fucked up, either.”

  “Appreciate that.”

  He shrugged, slapping me on the back as I passed through the door. Whatever else happened, watching Mandy take on Rebel should be entertaining.

  Mandy

  “You Goddamn piece of shit!” I hissed, stalking toward my future ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t believe the fuckwit had the nerve to show his face… Although I wasn’t stupid enough to think he was here for me. Nope. He’d come to collect his bike. The bastard held up his hands, giving me that cute little puppy dog face I used to think was so adorable.

  Yeah. Not so fucking cute any more.

  “It’s not like you got hurt,” he said, his voice wheedling. “And you’re always saying you want to help me get ahead. I couldn’t have pulled this off without you, and it didn’t even cost you anything. And just think—now we can start riding together again. I know how much you’ve missed riding!”

  I felt my blood pressure rise. All my life I’d been surrounded by people who thought I was trashy, but I’d taken great pride in the fact that I never acted that way. I wasn’t the type to scream at people in public, I didn’t air my dirty laundry and I never, ever put on a show for anyone. I’d survived twenty-seven years, five step-dads and one failed marriage without losing my dignity, but this was the end.

  “You treated me like a fucking whore!” I screamed, then balled up my fist and punched him in the stomach as hard as I could, savoring the look of utter shock on his face. Then that same face transformed into something ugly as he caught me by the shoulders and threw me into his truck.

  I hit hard and stumbled, falling to the side and clipping the mirror with my cheek on the way down.

  Black swirled behind my eyes. I blinked, trying to catch my breath as my face throbbed in time to my heartbeat. Rebel gave a startled squeal as one of the Reapers—Dopey, the anti-dwarf I’d met last night—knocked his head back with a crack. My ex-boyfriend hit the ground and Dopey kicked him in the side for good measure. Rebel moaned.

  “Touching her was stupid,” the big man said. “Now Shade’s gonna be in a bad mood and that won’t end well.”

  I took a deep breath, looking around to find half the clubhouse watching our little scene. My back hurt and my cheek throbbed where it’d hit the truck’s side mirror. I reached up, touching it carefully as I considered my options.

  “Shade’s coming!” one of the girls said breathlessly. Rebel tried to push himself up, his face filling with panic. Another biker stepped forward, raising a baseball bat.

  Holy shit.

  This was actually happening. This is my life. I was really surrounded by angry Reapers and their women, and my ex was gonna get destroyed. I might be new to the area, but I’d been around long enough to know how things worked around here—these guys could do whatever the hell they wanted without any consequences.

  A good girl would be scared.

  A decent girl would find a way to run.

  I’d been a good girl for most of my life, though, and what’d it gotten me? A couch in a trailer and a boyfriend who traded me for a fucking motorcycle. He only traded you for part of a fucking motorcycle, Wonder Woman whispered in my ear.

  Too true, sister. Too true.

  “Give me the bat,” I said, my voice cold and strong. The bikers glanced at each other, and Dopey shrugged. His fellow Reaper tossed me the bat and I caught it like a badass, hefting it thoughtfully in my hands. A flash of sunlight reflected in the truck’s side mirror caught my eye, reminding me that I’d have one hell of a bruise soon. I raised the bat, took aim and hit the mirror so hard it went flying.

  “Fuck!” someone shouted, but I didn’t pay attention. Rebel loved that truck. Not as much as he’d loved his motorcycle, but enough that destroying it would hit him hard. Raising the bat again, I circled the vehicle, then aimed for a headlight, smashing that out too. Oh, this was good. Very therapeutic. Whoops and cheers went up around me as I took out another light, the other mirror and then attacked the windshield. The glass cracked but it didn’t break, which was frustrating as hell. I’d just turned the bat around to use as a battering ram when someone grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back and away.

  “You need to stop,” Shade told me, his voice in my ear low and controlled.

  “No,” I snarled, bucking against him. “I want to kill him and kill his truck and cut off his balls and—”

  “And you can,” he said soothingly. “But this isn’t the right way to do it. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t calm down.”

  The adrenaline surging through my body begged to differ, but he held me tight, forcing me to settle. I considered fighting him but that wouldn’t do any good. He’d made his point last night—Batman was stronger than Wonder Woman.

  Fucking stupid men.

  I stilled and Shade let me go, reaching out for the bat. I stared down at his hand, hating the fact that yet another man was telling me what to do. His club surrounded me, though. They had all the power.

  Men always had all the power.

  I forced my fingers to release my weapon. Shade smiled at me, tossing it to the ground. Then he raised his other arm, offering me something.

  A tire iron.

  “This’ll do a lot more damage,” Shade said, the words just for me. “You fuck up his truck as much as you want, but don’t touch him. Not here. We’ll take care of him later when there aren’t so many witnesses.”

  My mouth gaped. “Are you serious?”

  “Always,” he replied, reaching out to touch the tip of my nose. “That was cute with the bat, but show me what you can do with a tire iron, baby.”

  I grinned like a lunatic, wrapping my fingers around the heavy bar and turning toward the truck again, taking careful aim. The metal hit the windshield with a shattering crash, the curved tip finally punching through the weak spot. The safety glass didn’t totally disintegrate but it’d still cost a fortune to replace, and I knew for a fact Rebel didn’t have any insurance.

  Yeah, I had real a gift for picking winners.

  I smashed the windshield again, then went after the driver’s side window. It wasn’t enough, though. I wanted more. Circling, I studied the truck and then glanced down at Rebel, who still cowered on the ground. He watched me with wide, terrified eyes, and I let my gaze fall to his crotch. Trade me like a baseball card, would he?

  God, but I’d love to take that tire iron to his balls.

  Shade was right, though. There were a lot of witnesses and I didn’t want to go back to jail. Ever. That didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck with Rebel’s head a little, though.

  “Do you have a knife I can borrow?” I asked Shade. He raised a brow, then glanced toward Dopey. The man shrugged and unsnapped the leather strap that held a large knife sheathed to his leg. He handed it to me wordlessly. I tested the sharpness against my thumb, the thinnest of blood lines welling up from the tiny cut. It hurt, but not half as bad as Rebel had hurt me.

  “I
should cut off your balls,” I told my former boyfriend. “You tricked me and tried to use me like a whore. Now you’re going to pay for that.”

  Rebel moaned in terror as I stepped toward him, sending a thrill through me. Damned straight you should be afraid, motherfucker. Then I turned away, smiling as I drove the knife deep into one of his tires. The air rushed out. I moved on to the next, and the next. By the fourth I felt some of my adrenaline fading. Rebel was sobbing, and all around me bikers were laughing and clapping. I turned to Dopey, carefully rotating the knife to offer him the handle.

  “Thank you.”

  Then I took a deep breath, wiping my forehead. Goddamn, but it was a beautiful morning.

  Shade stepped up to me, looking almost proud. Something sparked between us, something wild and fun and free. Something close to the feeling I got from riding on the back of a motorcycle, a mixture of thrill and excitement and sheer joy as the wind tore through my hair and sang in my ear.

  “That was the sexiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” Shade said. He caught the back of my head in his big hand, pulling me in hard for a kiss. His other arm wrapped around my body, holding me tight as his tongue ravaged my mouth like it belonged to him. God help me, in that moment it did. My body went molten, the thrill turning to something else—something more intense—as his tongue thrust deep.

  I wanted to stay here, I realized. Let him drag me back into his clubhouse to his ratty old bed, rip off my clothes and fuck me until I forgot reality. The past few months had been tough, and while I’d had fun with Rebel, I’d never really been able to count on him. I had a feeling that if I just did what Shade wanted—followed him like a good biker babe—he’d take care of everything and I wouldn’t have to think for a while or make any tough decisions.

  God, but I wanted that.

  Unfortunately, the only thing my niece Callie knew how to cook was chocolate. There were three little girls waiting for me, along with a sister who was probably in agony and almost certainly at risk of losing her job for missing yet another day of work. Pulling away from that kiss was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I managed somehow. Shade’s eyes were dark and hungry. Full of fire. For once that didn’t scare me.

  “I need to go home,” I whispered. “My sister is sick and I’ve got to watch the kids. Will you give me a ride?”

  Shade met my gaze steadily.

  “This isn’t over,” he said, and he wasn’t talking about the situation with Rebel.

  “My oldest niece is only five, and she already microwaved them a candy bar for breakfast.”

  Shade cocked his head at me. “No shit?”

  “No shit,” I replied solemnly.

  “Then I guess I’d better give you a ride,” he said slowly. He glanced toward Rebel and his face hardened. “Get in your truck and go away.”

  Rebel looked to the truck, almost comical in his confusion. “But the tires are all flat.”

  “So drive on the rims,” Shade told him. “Make yourself disappear or I’ll do it for you.”

  Rebel nodded quickly. I watched while he staggered to his feet, clutching his side as he lurched toward the Chevy. Then Shade caught my hand, tugging me toward the line of bikes. I turned toward him and he froze, reaching up to touch the side of my face.

  “You’ve got a bruise starting here. Rebel hit you,” he said, his voice like ice. I shook my head.

  “Technically, he threw me into the truck.”

  Shade’s face went hard. “I’m gonna kill him.”

  “No,” I said, catching his arm. “You’re gonna give me a ride home. I don’t care about that fucker, but I do care about my nieces. If you want to help me, take me home.”

  Shade turned to Dopey, who stood watching Rebel. “Follow him.”

  Dopey nodded sharply and a chill ran down my spine, because as much as I hated Rebel, I had a bad feeling about this—if Shade wanted to throw him into a truck, I was totally down with that. The whole disappearing thing, though… That sounded like some seriously bad karma.

  “Shade—”

  “Rebel’s not your problem anymore,” he said, glancing down at me. “He touched what was mine on my property. That’s a problem between him and me.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again because he’d gone back to scaring me, way beyond Batman level. Rebel was a piece of shit, but Shade was a whole different level of badass. I’d gotten so caught up in his kiss that I’d forgotten how dangerous he was.

  Big mistake.

  I needed to get home and get away from him. Maybe find a new job where I wouldn’t have to see him again. I didn’t care how sexy he was—I’d had enough dangerous men to last me a lifetime.

  Chapter Seven

  The ride home was anti-climactic.

  Last night it’d felt like Shade was kidnapping me away to another world. In the daylight, I recognized the highway curving around rolling hills and clumps of forest. The same mountains that I saw above Hannah’s trailer stood over us, watching.

  Just like our first trip together, I held Shade tightly around the waist, taking in his special scent and feeling the play of his stomach muscles under my hands. Everything about him felt sexy and right, scarily enough. I refused to relax into him, though, because I couldn’t afford that. When I’d met Rebel, I’d decided it was safe to have a boyfriend so long as I didn’t trust him with my heart.

  Now I knew better.

  By the time we pulled up in front of the trailer I shared with my sister’s family—and Shade knew exactly where it was, which was a little creepy in and of itself—I was utterly resolved. Whatever chemistry we might have, I wasn’t interested in acting on it. Self-preservation and all that.

  That didn’t stop the strange twinge I felt, seeing the place as it must look through his eyes. Our home was quite literally on the wrong side of the tracks. Violetta only had nine hundred residents, with the poorest ten percent living on the flat behind the old grain elevator and rail yard.

  My sister’s battered old minivan sat up on blocks and the trailer itself was frayed and stained from too many winters. A cheap swing set sat in the tiny yard, which was well-maintained because my sister took the whole mothering thing very seriously. She didn’t want the girls stepping on any rusty nails.

  Two more Reapers—including Dopey—had followed us from the clubhouse. Shade gave them a wave and they passed, circling around the block as he pulled his Harley to a stop in the driveway. He turned off the big engine and my entire body quivered from a mixture of phantom vibrations and suppressed tension. I climbed down, determined to head off any ideas he might have about following me inside.

  “You working at the Pit again tonight?” he asked, reaching up to touch my cheek. His touch was gentle, but it still hurt. I ignored his question.

  “Don’t do anything to Rebel,” I told him seriously. “If you do, the cops will come talk to me, and the last thing I need is more cops in my life.”

  “Whatever business Rebel has with the Reapers, it won’t roll over on you,” Shade said. “I wouldn’t put you in that position. You didn’t answer my question, though. You workin’ tonight?”

  “Yeah, but I’m going to ask Bone to have someone else wait on the Reapers in the future. I’m out, Shade. I don’t want to be part of your world.”

  Shade’s eyes narrowed.

  “This thing between us isn’t over,” he said firmly.

  “It is to me,” I replied, ignoring the way his hand had slipped into the hair at the back of my neck. I wanted to lean into him and purr like a cat. A very stupid cat. “There’s nowhere we can go with this personally. And the last time I served you at the Pit I busted ass all night and didn’t even get a tip. So far as I’m concerned, it’s a dead end.”

  Shade cocked his head and smirked. “So I was supposed to tip you on top of the five hundred I gave Rebel to fuck you?”

  “I never agreed to that,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, you made that pretty clear.”

&
nbsp; “But even if I had, the tip was for serving drinks. If I was really going to sell sex on top of serving drinks, that would’ve been a separate service and deserves its own tip. Either way, you stiffed me.”

  Shade’s smirk grew.

  “Think I’m the one who got stiff and left hanging, if you want to get technical.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it, even though I hadn’t changed my mind. Shade was pretty. He might even be fun to play with, but he was still the kind of guy who’d trade a woman for a motorcycle.

  Part of a motorcycle.

  “I’m serious. I’m sorry that things were so weird and that Rebel put us into this situation, and I appreciate the ride home, but there won’t ever be anything between us. I’m done with men. From now on it’s just me and my vibrator.”

  Shade’s gaze intensified. “What kind of vibrator you got?”

  “I’m going inside now,” I said, pushing against his chest. He ignored the gesture, leaning in to give me a soft, sweet kiss that left me aching. Then he let go, and I stepped away from the bike before I did something really stupid.

  “We’re not done,” he reminded me. “But I get that you need to take care of your nieces. Oh, and I brought you a present.”

  He reached into a pocket inside his vest and pulled out a black rectangle.

  “A phone?”

  “You said yours was broken,” he said. “This one works, although it’s just a disposable. My number’s already programmed into it, along with the landline at the clubhouse. You can also talk to Bone if you need to get hold of me. I’ll see you later, probably tonight. Now get your ass inside and cook those girls something besides candy bars.”

  “Can I help make the macaroni and cheese?” Callie asked. She loved working with me in the kitchen, although I also got the sense she was stalling because she didn’t want me leaving for my shift at the Pit. The girls loved it when I stayed home at night. A twinge of guilt twisted through me at the thought of how many evenings I’d wasted with Rebel.