Grasping For Freedom

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by Debra Kayn




  Grasping for Freedom

  By

  Debra Kayn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Grasping For Freedom

  1st Digital release: Copyright© 2014 Debra Kayn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  www.debrakayn.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  To my readers

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Author Bio

  To my readers

  Thank you to every one of you who made the writing of Torque's story one of the greatest experiences I've had so far publishing. The love and encouragement I received put extra excitement into this story for me. The emails from my readers became crazy and demanding, and left me smiling all day long. You all are an author's dream audience. Thank you for hopping on for the ride.

  After each new release, I'm bombarded with emails and questions asking me which Bantorus member will have the next book. Now, I'm not going to give the surprise away yet, but you can rest assured, there will be more bikers. They demand more stories, because they're bossy...and too damn sexy to turn down. Besides, the bikers are as much a part of me as I am of them. Let's roll...

  Dedication

  Wheels

  Because of you, these books are never-ending.

  Thank you for giving me the happy.

  CSC

  It's a lifestyle. It's an attitude. It's badassery at its best.

  I totally said that in the dedication for Soothing His Madness too, but without each one of you, there would be no moments, no memories, no experiences, so I could write these books. Between leathers, patches, fringe, motorcycles, grease, laughs, Fireballs, you all make my world go round.

  Chapter One

  The rough idle of Torque Kendler's Harley Davidson muffled the conversation between the two women outside Cabin D. Torque cut the engine, toed the stand, and moved off his motorcycle. Sometime between last night and this morning, the new gal— Brandy, had arrived in Pitnam to take over Gladys's position as the manager of the bar.

  Gladys's shoulders rounded even more as she glanced over at the line of motorcycles lined up in the parking lot and shook her head, looking every bit her age today, before walking toward her vehicle with slow steps. Torque clenched his teeth and swallowed past the emotions of what Gladys's leaving meant.

  At sixty-eight years old, Gladys deserved to retire and spend her free time enjoying her activities away from the bar. He exhaled loudly. She was every Bantorus member's surrogate momma and knew every secret, every story, and every bit of scandal that rocked Pitnam.

  The MC members were obligated out of love and respect to let her enjoy the rest of her years without burdening her with club business. He'd continue to protect and look after her, because he'd personally promised her deceased husband, Willy, she'd remain part of the family for life. Gladys was Bantorus, through and through.

  Gladys leaving left a hole within the club that a younger, more energetic woman at the headquarters of Bantorus MC would never be able to fill. He gazed back at Brandy. The chick wasn't what he expected. Rain, the president of the Bantorus Motorcycle Club, described her as smart, educated, and most of all reliable.

  First impressions shot down each one of those qualities.

  Her hair—long and blonde, but dyed black underneath nearly hit her waist. A slim waist above an ass used to bouncing on a man's dick. No way could a woman walk with loose hips and that much confidence without knowing exactly what she was doing to every man watching her. He leaned against the wall and refused to look away when Brandy's gaze hit on him outside the door.

  High cheekbones, angled chin softened by full lips almost distracted him from the narrowed eyes. Green eyes stared intently at him, making him wonder how in the hell a woman like her found herself in Pitnam. Or, how Rain found her through his contacts.

  Brandy's eyebrow lifted. The small silver round ring at the edge of her brow picked up the glare from the setting sun and seemed to taunt him. His breath caught in his chest. From outside appearances, she was any biker's fantasy with her tight jeans—ripped at the thighs, her chrome spikes on black leather boots tilting her tits and ass out to an angle he appreciated.

  She fit right in with the bitches hanging around the bar.

  Yet, she was different from any of the girls or old ladies at the club. Those differences rubbed him the wrong way. Independence, lack of respect, over confident, and opinionated were qualities in a woman he typically avoided.

  Besides his irritation with the newly acquired manager, there were too many changes happening around him lately to trust anyone new. His shoulder throbbed reminding him of the dangers that had infiltrated his town lately. Bantorus Motorcycle Club was on tender ground and Pitnam wasn't the safe haven it was years ago.

  Los Li, part of the Mexican mafia, shot him twice in the last ten months, and almost took the lives of two women belonging to Bantorus members. Men were dropping like flies for their old ladies and settling down. Now Gladys leaving Cactus Cove left him wanting to escape on a long ride to avoid the turmoil that came with changes.

  For some reason, this new chick bothered him and he couldn't figure out why.

  Brandy walked toward him with long strides, showing off her killer legs again. He remained where he was, not taking his gaze off her. She surprised him by staring back, all the way to the door. She continued her stare down as she grabbed the handle, twisted, and walked into the bar.

  Finally, the door closed blocking her from his sight. He blew out his cheeks. Shit. She was a piece of work.

  The door swung open again and Brandy stepped out of the building, crossed her arms, and said, "What the hell is your problem?"

  A bitch with a mouth on her.

  He lowered his gaze and took in the heaving breasts under her skintight T-shirt. He moistened his lips, surprised to find he wanted to keep her mouth busy so he didn't have to listen to her attitude.

  "Ah, I see." She lowered her arms and pointed at her chest. "Take a good long look, buddy, because that's all you're going to get from me."

  He tilted his head and spoke to her tits. "Is that so?"

  He saw movement coming from his left and grabbed her wrist before her hand made contact with his face. "I'll only tell you this once, so listen closely. You ever try to hit me again, and I'll hit you back."

  She covered her shock well, except for the swift intake of air. "You'd hit a woman?"

  He never had before, but he didn't want her to test him. There was only so much he'd accept and taking shit from anyone, man or woman, wasn't going to happen. "All you need to know is I'm an assho
le who you need to stay away from."

  She dropped her gaze to the hand holding her arm. Underneath his fingers, her skin warmed and he allowed himself to soak in the heat.

  He relaxed his hold and put her arm down at her side. "Stay away from me."

  She stepped back, biting her lip. Without saying a word, she walked inside the bar, leaving him outside alone again. He rubbed his thumb against the palm of his hand, still heated from touching her. He cussed under his breath. Life around Cactus Cove was changing, and he could almost feel his calm slipping away.

  Nothing fueled his anger more than another person attempting to control his freedom. Rain might've hired Brandy to run the bar, but she wasn't going to order him around. He walked toward his motorcycle. Gladys had known her place and knew when to keep the others away from him when he found society crushing in on him. He had a feeling Brandy was going to give him a push at the wrong time, and all hell was going to break lose.

  The compressing pressure in his head intensified. His body ached deep inside where alcohol or escaping on his motorcycle couldn't touch. He shook his head trying to dispatch the thoughts narrowing in on him.

  "Torque," Rain's voice came from behind him.

  He stopped next to his Harley. The muscles in his face automatically relaxed to hide the chaos in his head. "Yeah?"

  Rain's dark eyes studied him without speaking. Torque shoved his hands in his back pockets of his jeans. His president saw everything, but not all the time.

  "I have to go up to Seattle. I'll be taking Tori and Lilly and making a day of it. She's got some shop or mall she wants to go to. Can you hang around here? Keep an eye on things?" Rain widened his stance and added. "Bruce is around, but it's Friday and I don't want Brandy to deal with everything by herself on her first day. The other members know she's off limits, but I'd feel better knowing someone had her back until she gets used to everyone."

  He looked back at his bike, wanting to ride away and tell Rain no. "Yeah, I'll stick around."

  Rain remained standing in front of him, his long hair loose and falling over his forehead. "Something going on?"

  "No," he answered. "I'm good."

  At least he would be when he could go home and get away from everyone. Over the years, he'd dodged more shit than he had bullets. Hell, he'd rather take another bullet than deal with a woman who closed in on him. He liked his privacy and space.

  Rain clapped his hand on Torque's shoulder. "Pete, Remmy, and Slade are at the garage. Call them if you need a break. I'll give them the heads up to stick around."

  "'Right," he said.

  Rain walked to his motorcycle in sure, confident steps, and Torque headed back to the bar, each of his steps heavier than the last. Inside, he went straight to the pool table. He'd distract himself with a few games and time would fly, so he could go home. If that didn't work, he'd call in Slade. He trusted his MC brother and knew Slade wouldn't question why he needed to get away from everyone.

  No one ever talked about his actions, his words, his threats, his spontaneous need to distance himself from everyone, including the club, in which he was glad. Talking never helped. He was who he was, and life consisted of him. Period.

  Leaning over the pool table, he lined the cue ball and broke, watching the balls scatter across the green felted surface. Two solid colored pool balls went in the side pockets, and he moved around the side of the table to take another shot. He often played pool by himself, wasting time, working out a problem, or while waiting for club business to be over.

  Then again, he'd had years of practice entertaining himself. He was a solitary player, and preferred the quiet.

  Raul approached and thumped the corner of the table with his knuckles. "Want to re-rack? I'm only wasting time while Crystal shows up."

  "Nah, man, I'm good. Just watching the clock myself." Torque caught sight of Brandy behind Raul at the counter of the bar.

  She leaned her elbows on the surface and displayed her ass for everyone to see. His gaze went down her legs, ogling the bare skin peeking through the rips on her jeans under the curve of her butt. She planted her feet farther apart. He shook his head and turned away. She was setting herself up for trouble.

  "See you've met Brandy," Raul said, mumbling something in Spanish that anyone could translate as male appreciate for the opposite sex. "The old ladies are not going to like her once they get a look at her."

  "Yeah, well, nobody can replace Gladys," he muttered.

  Best thing that could happen was Rain's wife, Tori, or even Raul's old lady, Crystal, took Brandy aside and informed her how things worked within the club. Maybe the women could even force Rain to hire someone new...or someone older like Gladys. Hell, he'd even take a guy running the bar over Brandy, and he was never one to turn down an available woman.

  "I agree, amigo. Gladys was the best thing for all of us." Raul's body shifted and he turned toward the door. "Looks like my woman came early."

  Crystal stopped a few feet from the door and searched the bar. Her shoulders went back, displaying more of the cross tattoo on her chest that her low cut T-shirt couldn't cover. Torque could almost hear the hiss through Crystal's teeth as she curled her lip at the sight of Brandy. He planted the end of the pool stick between his boots and leaned forward to watch the show. For the first time today, the muscles around his mouth relaxed and he almost smiled.

  Brandy had no idea the drama playing out behind her. Torque gazed back at Crystal. Raul's wife marched across the room with her arms swinging at her sides in a beeline toward the counter.

  He'd seen what the Bantorus women would do to a bitch that got out of hand or didn't know her place. The female hangers were not allowed around the bikers during daylight hours, and definitely not when the old ladies were present.

  He kept his gaze on the action. This was not going to end pretty and since he was in charge of looking after Brandy, he probably should do something.

  "Eh, you might want to pull your woman in before there's bloodshed," Torque said.

  Raul nodded and moved in a straight line. He intercepted Crystal with an arm around her waist and hauled her back before she was within arm's reach of Brandy. Torque watched him usher Crystal down the hallway, leaving Brandy unaware of the biker saving her ass.

  Brandy spun around and caught him looking at her before he could bring himself to turn away. Challenged, he stared her down in case she believed she got the upper hand on him. He regretted his mistake the moment she planted her high-heeled boot in his direction.

  He never had taken confrontations well. Seven years of hell early on in his life, he fought and protected his personal space. Old habits die hard, even on the outside.

  "I see the vest. I see the flame tattoo on your neck. I see the badass attitude that makes you a Bantorus member. I also get how you have the freedom to come and go making your own rules, because you're part of the MC." She moistened her lips, and damned if his cock didn't hardened at the sight of her pink moist tongue. "But I will not have you interrupting my work day by pushing your authority in the bar or over me. You're not my boss, so get the hell out of here and find some other girl to entertain you."

  "You going to make me?" he said, enjoying the banter too much for his liking.

  Her gaze flickered and for the first time he noticed her hesitation. Then she stepped closer. "I'm serious. Don't fu—"

  "Eh," he said, cutting her off. "Be careful, before I think of something else you can do with that dirty little mouth."

  She scoffed and glared. "Get real."

  He raised his hand, using his index finger to twine the strand of hair curling over the peak of her large breast pushing against her T-shirt. When he'd wrapped his whole finger, he tugged hard enough to catch her by surprise, causing her to stumble toward him. Her hands sprawled on his chest, and his body tensed in pleasure.

  "I warned you. Stay away from me," he whispered.

  Her breath quickened. "Or what?"

  "You really want to know?" He stared at
her mouth.

  She paused with her lips parted. "Yeah. You talk big, but you're—"

  He captured her mouth with his own, shutting her down.

  Her full lips cushioned his. He gave her no warming, no softness, no chance to escape. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, stroking the velvety-softness in pure selfish lust. He swallowed her gasp, taking the opportunity to tilt his head to capture her bottom lip and go back for one more taste.

  The tips of her nails scratched the sensitive scarred skin under his shirt. He growled, enjoying the pain. She made him feel past the pressure in his head. He sensed everything about her. Her strength, her softness, her taste—wild and hot, her smell—almost intoxicating and reminded him of honey and fresh air...freedom.

  Brandy's hips tilted forward, pressing against his hardness. He groaned, leaning her back, taking her off balance so she had nowhere to go but to hold on to him. His breath escaped him and he closed his eyes, sucking, licking, demanding.

  Then she was gone. He opened his eyes at the same time his hand jerked. She'd ripped her hair out of his grasp, and he curled his fingers, still holding a few stray strands that stayed with him.

  She stared at him with wide, aroused eyes, an opened mouth, swollen and wet from his kiss. He glanced down at his hand and swallowed. He should never have touched her.

  Chapter Two

  Lightheaded and shocked from the kiss, Brandy stared at Torque. He was supposed to keep his distance. All men stayed away when she pushed them.

  Not him, he took what he wanted and left her...confused.

  "You asshole," she whispered, fingering her bottom lip where the skin still throbbed from the most possessive kiss she'd ever received.

  Torque leaned closer. "I already gave you that information about me. Maybe you'll believe me now. I'm not playing your game. Stay the fuck away from me."

  She retreated and walked toward the bar, unable to stand the heat coming off him. Everything inside of her wanted to retaliate and tell him what she thought of him putting her down...degrading her, embarrassing her. She wanted to scream. Instead, she kept walking.

 

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