by Blue Remy
Demon went down on his knees, howling in pain, hands cupping his precious jewels.
Amy ran like she had never run before.
* * * *
Mace finished running errands with Stone. He wasn’t complaining about chauffeuring his president around, but he didn’t like the idea of Demon being in the house alone with Amy.
Last night had proven to him that Amy was it. They got along perfectly. He had never seen her laugh like she had when they rode for over three hours. Her face glowed from being wind kissed, her hair mussed from the helmet, but she was absolute beauty in his eyes, in that moment. He knew then, he would die to protect her.
When he arrived, he walked in as usual, but the scream had rooted him in place. Hearing sobbing and the slam of a door upstairs, Mace charged into the kitchen. Demon struggled to get up from the floor.
“What the hell happened in here?” Mace demanded. His temper flared when he saw blood on the floor, glass littering the countertop, and a knife in the kitchen doorway. It looked like a UFC fight had happened in the middle of the kitchen. “What the fuck did you do?”
Demon glared at Mace, his hand covering the slice on his cheek with a towel. “None of your fucking business, prospect.”
She more than physically hurt him, she wounded his ego and that was going to make Demon a very dangerous enemy in the future. All Mace cared about was how bad Demon had hurt Amy. He would kill the son of a bitch if he—no, he wasn’t even going to think about that right now.
Teeth grit as he advanced toward Demon with a deadly stride. “Where. Is. She?” Each word was growled out between breaths, his fingers aching from the clenched fists he held at his sides.
Demon snorted, pulling the towel away from his cheek, glaring at the blood covering the fabric. Placing it back to his cheek, he finally looked at Mace. “Figured you’d already know the answer to that, since your nose is so far up her ass. Hell, you’d think the bitch was in heat the way you’re always around.”
Mace closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He had to collect himself before he killed Demon. Opening his eyes, he closed the space between the two of them. Demon might have been bigger than him, but he didn’t have the advantage Mace did. He was quicker and more agile and would put the big dumbass on his back before Demon knew what hit him.
His words were cold and calculated. “I wonder what Stone would think about you attacking his daughter? It doesn’t look too good from here.” Mace paused to look around the kitchen, then back to the sergeant at arms. “If you leave now, we’ll pretend this didn’t happen. I’ll make sure Amy doesn’t say anything, and if you know what is best for you, you’ll take my offer. You won’t like what’s behind the other door if you don’t.”
Mace could tell Demon was about to argue with him. Corner of mouth lifted up, tsk’ing Demon with a tiny shake of his head. “Stone told me to come relieve you. He wants you at the clubhouse to talk about something. I suggest you listen to your president.”
It looked like Demon thought twice about arguing before tossing the bloodied rag to the floor and storming off. Mace let out a quick breath, relieved that he didn’t have to take down another member of the club. That would have looked real bad. Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked around the kitchen. It wouldn’t take much to clean up if he was quick about it. Pulling off his cut, he laid it over a chair and dove in.
Sweeping up the glass, wiping down the counters and pulling out the food and setting it aside, he was able to finish the rest of the cleanup in twenty minutes or so. It looked like nothing had happened.
Heading upstairs, he followed his instinct toward where he thought he heard the door slam. Figuring the only closed door was Amy’s room, he lightly knocked. “Amy, please unlock the door. He’s gone. It’s just me.” A muffled 'go away' was all he got for his efforts. “I’m not going anywhere, Amy. I’ll stay out here all night if I have too. I’m not leaving you alone. Not after…” He couldn’t finish. He didn’t know what Demon did to her and it made him sick that he wasn’t here to protect her. He would never allow Demon near her again. “Please, Ames?”
“I said go away.”
That was the response he expected. She had to be scared now and wouldn’t trust anyone, and that was her right. Shaking his head, he squatted until he was low enough to sit his ass on the floor. Sighing, he laid back, and closed his eyes.
It was going to be a long night.
A sound woke Mace a couple of hours later, his face hidden by his arm being draped across his head. A whisper of feet moved around him as a blanket was placed over his still form. What surprised him the most, was a body pressing itself against him under the blanket, a face burying itself in the base of his neck. She burrowed herself in his safety net and it made his heart soar she would trust him like that. With a smile on his face, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 8
Her body ached.
Amy felt like she had just gone ten rounds with Tyson. At least her ear didn’t hurt. Stretching carefully, as not to further the pain she felt, Amy pushed up and swung her legs to the … floor? How did she get back into her bed? The last thing she remembered, she was laying on the floor in Mace’s protective embrace.
Heat flooded her cheeks as she looked around her room, eyes stopping on her pillow and the daisy resting there. Unable to stop smiling, she plucked the daisy off of the pillow and buried her nose in it, inhaling the fragile scent of the flower. Laughing to herself, she got off the bed and opened her door. Amy didn’t know what to expect to find, but Mace wasn’t there.
Slipping on jeans and a tank top, she stopped in the bathroom to stare at the split lip and slight bruising to her cheek. How the hell was she going to explain this? “Damn it,” she breathed out. Hiding something like this from Stone was impossible. Opening up a drawer, she grabbed her concealer and proceeded to try covering the bruising. Too bad she couldn’t hide the busted lip.
Huffing, she slammed the drawer shut and made her way downstairs to the immaculate kitchen. Mace had cleaned it to the point you couldn’t tell there was a tussle. There was even a pot of coffee with a note saying he hoped she had a good day. Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, she grabbed a cup and poured herself some when her dad walked in. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled. “Want a cup?”
“Does the princess kiss the frog prince?” Stone grumbled and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table, lowering his large frame into it. “Mace told me that Little Joe nailed you in the face yesterday when a coyote spooked him. You okay?”
Stone almost got his coffee spilled onto his lap when Amy skipped a step, but was quick to recover before setting it to the table in front of him. “Yeah, I’m fine. I got a fat lip out of it, a bruise on my cheek. He’s got a hard head.”
Stone nodded as he picked up his cup and took a drink. “Wear the .380 when you go out alone for now. I don’t need him throwing you if another coyote shows up. Plus, if they try and get in with the cattle, you can kill it.”
If Amy argued, he would know something was up. She nodded and took a drink, nearly burning her tongue. That was a wakeup call. Gasping and fanning her mouth, she coughed. “No problem.”
Her dad laughed, “Want to go to lunch with me today?”
Amy froze, staring at her dad. “Really?” He hadn’t done anything like that since Gail had died. “Um, duh … that’s a hell yeah.”
Stone burst out laughing, almost choking on his coffee. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smiled at Amy. “I’ll pick you up at the shop then, around twelve-ish. Make sure your helmet is in the Jeep.”
“I never leave home without it.”
And she didn’t. She also didn’t leave the house until she dusted off her cut. She wasn’t property, so her vest was tagged with Daughter of. It had been two years since she had worn it. It felt surreal putting it on. She stood in front of her full length mirror, pivoting right, then left, making sure it still fit. Hand lifted to run her fingertips over her ro
ad name patch, Kitten. The smile was slow to come, but it was there, right alongside the memories the vest would never let her forget.
When noon rolled around, Amethyst was ready to rock and roll. She waited outside; sporting her cut, helmet in hand. Her dad swept in on his Electra Glide, coming to a stop right next to her.
“Shall we?” Stone raised his voice over the rumble of the Harley’s engine.
Amy saw the pride in his eyes at her wearing the cut. Strapping the helmet on, she slipped her clear lensed glasses on. She hated having the wind in her eyes. She held on tight as he rolled out of the shop’s parking lot. She knew how her father rolled, and it wasn’t slow.
Racing onto the 101 Freeway, it took her a moment to figure out where her dad was taking her. Amy couldn’t help but swallow down a squeal of delight. He was taking her to Oceano, to the Rock ‘n Roll Diner, a train car converted into a fifties style diner. It was her mother’s favorite place to go and just be girls.
Once they got there, she dismounted the bike and all but tackled her father with a large hug. “Thank you.”
He returned the hug while balancing the bike. “You’re welcome. It’s been a while, I thought we were due.”
The diner hadn’t changed. The car was run down on the outside, fitting the old style it represented. The wooden stairs creaked with their weight as they made their way to the door. Once inside, the smell of grease, French fries and burgers assaulted Amy. It made her mouth water at the very thought of having either a malt or a root beer float.
Scooting into the booth, she already knew what she wanted. There was no need to look at the ancient menus with greasy fingerprints all over them. The float won out, her dad got a malt, she was quick to order the Route 66 burger. What was better than beef, bacon, cheese and guacamole? Stone thought the James Dean Fan Club was, with his triple decker of turkey, ham, and BLT.
Pfft. Not.
This was epic. There was no way her day could get any better than spending time like this with Stone. Maybe if Romeo was with them, but she would cherish this father-daughter time.
Glancing up from her float, brow quirked at the way her father looked at her. “What’s wrong? Is my fly open?”
Stone laughed, forced to wipe his mouth before he spit out his malt. “Nothing is wrong.” Taking in a deep breath, he patted his cut until he found what he was looking for. Pulling out the pack of cigarettes, he tapped one out and lit it with the ease of someone that had smoked for over a decade. Blowing the smoke away from Amy, he finally spoke. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”
Lashes fluttered at her father’s admission, taking her by surprise. He wasn’t one for emotion, so hearing him say that blew her away. “I do now.”
“I’m serious, Amethyst. You’ve held this family together when I couldn’t. You’ve been the rock that Zen and I have had to lean on when shit got rough. That had to take its toll on you.” Stone looked down at his hands for a moment, as if he was unsure where he was going with his thoughts. “I know you ran to Nevada because of me and your brother. You haven’t had much of a life because of us. I guess—I guess I just want you to know that your mother would have been proud of you too.”
Amy was trying to blink back her tears, but they managed to escape anyway. She never looked at it that way, she felt they were suffocating her and trying to rule her life. A shattered breath was taken, hand lifting to wipe her eyes. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Don’t thank me, Amy. Please. I put you into a life that is dangerous and you have been an amazing young lady and have managed to try and make something of yourself despite that.” He reached out with his free hand, laying it over her own. “Just promise me you will never change. That you will always see the best in people, no matter what.”
Amy gave her dad’s hand a squeeze, unable to stop her tears. Her heart felt like it was breaking, there was no other way to even describe it. It hurt that he knew what she had been doing. That she hated them for what they were doing to her, and yet, he was turning it into something positive, making her shine.
“I won’t, I promise.” A whisper was all Amy could manage because her voice would have made it worse. Her voice would have pushed her over the edge and into a self-loathing abyss she didn’t want to venture into.
Stone smiled, putting out his cigarette as their food arrived. The meal was silent, if not from her own emotions, but the good food as well.
“I have died and gone to heaven.” Amy crooned when she popped a sauce covered fry into her mouth.
“I second that notion.” Stone agreed as he stole some of her sauce for his fries.
The meal was great, the food was even better. The time with her dad was priceless. Happy, content and full, she was almost scared to get back on the bike. Amy had happy belly syndrome and it was easy for her to fall asleep on the bike when she got this way.
“I have something for you.” He paused at his saddle bags, unlocking the right side and opening it up.
“Oh?” Baffled, she stood by him, watching for whatever it was, but he kept it hidden, guarding it from her with his body.
Closing the bag, he righted himself and faced her. “She would want you to have this.” Holding out his hand to her, a red velvet box appeared.
Her heart leapt to her throat and her eyes misted once more. Amy knew that box like the back of her hand. Reaching for it, her hand shaking, she looked at her father with uncertainty. “You didn’t bury her in it?”
It was her mother’s cameo, which had been her mother’s and her mother’s before her. Passed down three generations, the salmon colored coral was set in a silver filigree, an ivory Victorian looking silhouette lying on top of the coral giving it old world appeal.
“She would have wanted you to have it, as would your grandmother. And when you have your own daughter, you can pass it to her.”
How many more times was she going to cry today? Pulling the delicate necklace out of the box, she managed to put it on, vowing to never take it off.
The drive back to Orcutt was quiet and quicker than Amy would have liked. Stone dropped her off at the shop. Before he left, she nearly knocked him off of the bike with a bear hug. He, of all people, deserved it the most.
Once inside the store, she glanced at the mirrors, spotting Maggie stocking the tea shelves. With a bit of a bounce in her step, she made her way to the aisle that Maggie was in. “What’s up, chica?”
Black curls fell over the doe brown eyes as Maggie looked at Amy. Her eyes grew wide, hand flying over her mouth when she gasped. “Hijole!”
Amy burst out in a fit of giggles at her best friend’s expression of shock, yelping as Maggie grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the back. “Easy there, Mags!”
Once in the back, Maggie spun around, her hands flying about when she spoke with excitement. “You’re wearing Gail’s cameo! And your cut!”
“Yeah, I know.” Amy knew she was being mean, but she loved to tease Maggie, who had placed her hands on her hips. “Okay, okay. Yes, I’m wearing the cameo. Dad gave it to me today. I wore the cut because he was taking me to lunch.”
Maggie’s brows lifted slightly. “So, you wanted to show him you still accept the life. Could it be because of a certain prospect?”
“No.” Amy swatted her arm, turning to make her way back into the empty store. “I wanted to show him I still support him, no matter what.”
“I’m sure he loved it.” Maggie bumped her hip against Amy’s.
“He did.” Amy glanced at Maggie, noting the way her friend tried not to smile. Curious at what else her friend hid, she cleared her throat. “Spill it.”
Maggie squealed, unable to keep whatever it was to herself any longer. “I am so excited! Demon actually asked me to be his date to the party!”
Maggie had rushed her words out so quickly, Amy wondered if she had breathed during it. Hearing Demon’s name, Amy couldn’t catch the groan before it escaped her mouth. “Are you sure you want to go with him, Maggie? Can’t you find someone b
etter than that?”
Maggie stared at Amy like she was going to throttle her. “That’s easy for you to say.”
Amy blinked and jerked back at the venomous look Maggie gave her. “Why? Because he’s an ass?”
“He’s not an ass all the time, Amy. I don’t get why you hate him so much.” Her eyes narrowed at Amy. “Just because you’re not happy with your life, doesn’t mean I can’t be.”
“How do you think I got this black eye? It sure as hell wasn’t from Little Joe, Maggie.” Amy snarled at Maggie, sick of the way she always defended him. “He got a little too happy using me as his personal punching bag last night.”
“It was probably just an accident, Amy. I’m sure he meant nothing by it.”
“God! Will you listen to yourself? I’m trying to tell you what this ass did and you want to stand there and defend him.” Amy shook her head in disbelief.
“No, you’re trying to ruin the only good thing that has happened for me.”
“Margarita!” Amy’s mouth dropped open when Maggie ran out of the store and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER 9
The rattle and hum of the Chevy truck was quiet compared to the noise in his head. All Mace could think about was Amy.
He hated leaving her this morning, but he tucked her into her bed, trying to ignore her tiny whimpers of sleepy protest, which melted the ice off his heart. He finished cleaning the kitchen, knowing Stone and Romeo would be up early, programmed the coffee pot and scooted out into the barn to get ready for the meeting.
He knew he was taking a chance on leaving the daisy, but she was unlike any woman he had ever met. Amy had faced off and fought Demon without second-guessing herself. Mace knew Demon planned on raping her; he felt it to his very core, and he figured Amy did as well. She wasn’t a statistic, nor would she ever be one; so she fought like a beast and was rewarded with a busted lip and a bruised cheek.
