by Siobhan Muir
“Holy fuck.”
He nodded as he pointed at me. “So, for once you’re gonna have to be a man more than a dick and woo her. Seriously, mate. She’ll come to you for sex and comfort. But you’ll have to listen to her and pay attention to her pleasure rather than yours. Think you can do that?”
I scowled. “Go to hell, asshole.”
He laughed, though his eyes remained haunted and sad. “That’s my brother Luke’s purview.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck, Scott.”
“Hey, what am I supposed to do now?” I waved in the direction of Oriana’s door, now firmly shut.
He shot a look toward the cabin and shrugged. “Wait, I guess.”
His parting words made anger flare. I’d never been very good at waiting, but I’d already screwed up spending more time with her today. I swore and stomped off toward the workshop to work in my Harley. I didn’t really work on it so much as clean it up and make sure it worked right, like field-stripping a rifle. There were mechanics in our crew to make sure our rides ran smooth, but I liked to keep track of my own bike.
The smells of oil, hot metal, and rubber hit my nose as I stepped into the relative cool shade. A couple of the other guys were hanging out in front of the fans as they tinkered with their own rides. Roy, Melrose’s boyfriend, grumbled to himself as he worked. I couldn’t hear much of what he said over the fan, but I caught a few words here and there.
“Stupid meddling bitch…FBI…Snooping…Fuck!” A socket wrench dropped to the concrete floor and skittered over to my feet. “Oh, hey, Scott. Can I have that back?”
Did Roy look guilty for a moment as held his hand out for the wrench?
“Everything okay, Roy?”
“Yeah, close enough.” He scowled as he crouched by his ride again. “Woman troubles. Melrose turned into a sniveling bitch when Loki kicked her out of her cabin.”
I didn’t feel much sympathy for Mel since she’d pissed off Oriana. Not that I was surprised and I was damn glad she’d come to our compound, but Mel shouldn’t have lied to her. The irony of my emotional response didn’t escape me, but it didn’t change how I felt.
“Can you believe she brought her pink, stinky shit into my place?” Roy scowled. “It smells like a damn perfume factory.”
“Why are you with her, then? I mean, she’s in your space now, man.”
He snorted. “Free pussy. Why else?”
Yesterday, I would’ve agreed with him. I’d had my share of free pussy and hot tail. But after a while, some of that free pussy got clingy and wasn’t so free anymore. Then it became less fun and a pain in the ass. I didn’t want to make the effort to keep the women happy. That could happen once you get a taste of Oriana. The traitorous voice slipped into my thoughts, but I shoved it away. There was something different about Numbers and I wouldn’t give up my opportunity to figure out what it was.
“Dude, there are easier ways of getting free pussy.” I suspected Melrose wouldn’t like Roy’s assessment of her, but it wasn’t my relationship. Maybe she liked getting treated like a convenient toy
“Maybe, but Mel’s easy.” Roy shrugged as he tightened something on his bike. “She works for me for now.”
“Better you than me, brother.” I shook my head as I tinkered with my own ride. “So you’re gonna let her stay in your cabin?”
“Yeah, if she can stop blubbering all the time about losing her place. I swear, Loki did it just to see what Melrose would do.”
I snorted. Roy wasn’t wrong. That was Loki’s MO. He poked the bear just to see how loud it would roar and how many people it’d kill. And he’d become more ornery now that someone embezzled some of our income, as if pissing off his crew released some of his frustration.
Hopefully Oriana can find the asshole soon so Loki doesn’t come after me.
“More than likely.” I nodded my head but didn’t meet his gaze. I didn’t want to tell him I was glad Melrose had to give up her cabin. Not that Oriana would be willing to spend time with me. But the possibility’s there. “She staying with you here tonight?”
Roy shook his head. “Nah, I’m taking her down to Denver to make her feel better. I gotta check on some contacts and figured it’d cheer her up.”
“That’s nice of you.” Surprisingly so.
“Yeah, well, she doesn’t put out when she’s upset, so I might as well get her in a better mood so I can get laid.”
Oh. Right, it was mostly about him. While I thought him a jackass and a pig, I couldn’t say I hadn’t done the same over the years. I’d been in Loki’s crew a long time and the pussy and money had flowed like a river. But I’d been single for a while now and no one had tempted me. I’d gotten bored with the hookups. Besides, I liked Oriana, her fire and her strength. I wanted to hook up with her, but I didn’t want it to be a one-time-thing.
Not that she was speaking to me at the moment.
I turned my focus back to the bike. Michael said I’d have to wait. I wondered how long that’d be.
****
Oriana
I rubbed my face with my hands and sighed. I’d unpacked and cleaned the cabin as much as I was able, but I had nothing left to do except get my laundry and find something to eat. I didn’t want to face anyone after my PTSD episode, but more than likely everyone already knew what it was all about. Michael probably got big points for braving the wrath of the crazy woman to get the story.
Except Michael didn’t seem like the kind of guy to blab secrets. He struck me as a man who had a great deal of wisdom and experience, and kept the secrets entrusted to him like a vault. I frowned and shook my head. What would a guy like that be doing in the Concrete Angels?
Stop stalling. I needed to get my laundry at least. And probably convince the computer gremlin to come connect my laptop to the network. As long as I don’t have to go into his lair. Maybe I could send him an email. The last thought made a rueful laugh erupt and chased away some of the post-episode exhaustion.
Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob just as someone knocked. I froze as my breath stalled in my chest. Panic surged and my hands tightened into fists. I clenched my teeth and dug my fingernails into my palms to remind myself I was safe. Maybe if I held still, the person on the other side would go away.
Seconds ticked by and I slowly relaxed, until they knocked again.
Aw fuck, just get it over with. It wouldn’t get better the longer I waited.
I grasped the doorknob and twisted, breathing as slow as I could to keep myself calm.
To my surprise, two people waited on the doorstep. Dollhouse stood with my laundry dried and folded in her arms. Neo stood behind her, unease and chagrin gracing his features.
“Hey, Numbers. Mind if we come in? I brought your laundry and Neo says he can get you hooked up to the network.” Dollhouse gave me a worried smile. “Would that be okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.” I stepped back as they marched inside. “The laptop is on the table.”
Neo nodded and headed for the computer. I suspected he dealt with computer and circuitry problems better than emotional ones. I could relate.
“Where do you want the laundry?” Dollhouse paused in the middle of the room.
“On the bed is fine. Thanks.” I meant my gratitude. She’d saved me from having to return to the clubhouse and all the recriminating stares.
“You’re hooked into the network and I’ve set up shortcuts on your desktop to the Concrete Angels’ financial records.” Neo stood in front of me, one hand on the back of his neck and his gaze on the floor. “I’m really sorry about the Black Room. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have had you come in.”
“Thanks, Neo. I appreciate it.” I nodded and though his gaze was on the floor, some of the tension left his shoulders. “Next time I’ll just email you.”
He snorted, though he didn’t smile, but I got the impression I’d amused him. “Yeah, good. I created a simple login for you. Username is Numbers and this is the password.” He
handed me a sticky note. “Change it to something you can remember as soon as you get in.”
“So you won’t know it?”
He smirked. “Oh, I’ll know it, but no one else will. See you.” He ducked out the front door as I laughed.
“That’s a lot better sound.” Dollhouse came back into the main room. “They’re gonna start serving dinner here soon. Want me to bring you back a plate of the goods?”
Had this woman read my mind? I nodded, relief loosening all my muscles. “Yes, please, and thank you.”
“Yeah, I figured after that dramatic exit, you didn’t really want much company tonight.”
I nodded again. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You mean, beyond that one?” She winked as I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Why are you helping me?”
She offered me a sad smile as she tilted her head. “Because having PTSD doesn’t make you weak and I’ve been where you are.” She shrugged. “And my brother likes you. So, yeah.”
She waved as she sailed out the door and I stood there, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. This whole day is fucked up. First, I was manipulated and kidnapped. Then, I was coerced, sexually harassed, and triggered into a PTSD episode. And now someone was helping me with laundry and bringing me food. I tried to remember when a total stranger did something nice and couldn’t come up with a single instance.
Shaking my head, I shuffled into the bedroom and dug out my toiletries for a shower. Sometimes the water pounding on my body recentered me after an episode and I could face the world again in a limited capacity. It also helped me turn my chattering brain off and reminded me how to feel instead of react.
I closed the blinds in the bedroom and stripped down to nothing. Damn, had I locked the front door? It took me a moment to remember this had been a motel with automatically locking doors. Except Scott had gotten in without my key. Which only meant he had a master or a copy. I debated engaging the security chain, but that meant I had to go out into the main room, naked. I shook my head and turned on the water in the shower. The water pressure appeared decent and I sighed when I stepped under the spray.
Perfect.
I turned off my brain long enough to wash and relax, the only thoughts flitting through concerned the pleasure in the heat of the water.
Scott could give me heated pleasure.
I jerked as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice on me and shut off the shower. I stood dripping in the bathtub as the last of the water draining out of the shower head. What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t know if I was more surprised with the thought of pleasure with Scott or that I’d had thoughts of sex at all. Ever since I’d left the FBI, sexual interaction didn’t show up on my radar.
But here I stood, wet from my shower, and the idea of his kisses warmed me from the inside out.
I’m insane.
That was debatable. I’d voluntarily agreed to work for one of the most notorious motorcycle clubs in the Rocky Mountains. My former employer would kill to get the same opportunity. They had killed to do it. Shouldn’t have stood by the rapist, then. Of course, if they’d fired his ass, I wouldn’t have been here to get the intel on the Concrete Angels. Maybe. I hadn’t really wanted to stay after the rape.
I shook my head at my stupid musings and toweled dry. Someone would be bringing a meal soon and I didn’t really want to meet them in my full, naked glory, towel or not. I returned to my bedroom and sifted through the clothes Mel had selected for me. She’d picked mostly jeans, my more sensual blouses, and a couple pairs of shorts. Thank goodness she’d also managed some underwear, a couple of tank tops, and some yoga pants. At least I don’t have to sleep naked.
I reached for a comfortable tank that read “World’s Okayest Runner” when someone knocked on my door. Shit, now? I dropped the towel and threw the tank over my head, before refastening the terrycloth around my waist.
“Coming.”
I strode to the door and swung it open to reveal Scott on the other side holding a tray with covered dishes. We both stopped and stared at each other and I suspected my expression matched his own.
“Scott?”
“Uh, yeah.” His gaze latched onto the towel riding low on my hips. I’m sure my ribs made it look like the knot of terrycloth was too tight, but his focus remained steadfast.
“What are you doing here?” It didn’t sound too hostile, I hoped.
“Uh, bringing you dinner. Dollhouse said you needed dinner.” His gaze hadn’t moved. “Yeah, dinner.” He licked his lips and I couldn’t help but laugh. That made him jerk his gaze up to my face.
“Sorry.” He actually blushed and my heart melted a little.
Who knew the big, bad, cocky biker could feel chagrin?
“Where do you want me to put this?” I suspected he would’ve rubbed the back of his neck if he didn’t need both hands to hold the tray level.
“On the table will be fine.” I stepped back to let him in and he damn near skittered to the table to set down the tray. “Thanks for bringing me dinner. I thought Dollhouse would do that.”
“Yeah, she got caught up in something else and said I needed to do it.” Now he did rub his neck. “And I didn’t mind. How you doin’? Are you okay now?”
His word choice made me bristle a little, but I tried to shove it away. I’ll never be okay. But I would get better.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay, but I’m better than I was this afternoon.”
“Do you...wanna talk about it?”
He looked so uncomfortable asking, it lightened some of my unease. “Not really. They’re not memories I like to visit very often, and I already went there today.”
“Yeah.” Now he did rub his neck. “When you get in that head space...is there anything anyone can do for you then? Any way to make it less...I dunno, scary for you?”
Surprise shot through me. It sounded like he cared about how I felt. Don’t be ridiculous, Hunter. He was a badass biker and I was just a pussy he wanted to tap.
I raised an eyebrow, going on the defensive. “You really want to know how to make it less scary for me?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I mean, I know a little about what you’re goin’ through.” He held up his hands when I opened my mouth to remind him he’d never know that. “I don’t mean exactly or the situation that brought it about, but I meant the reactions.” He shrugged. “I spent some time in the Army and I saw guys comin’ back from Afghanistan and Iraq.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You were in the army?”
He smirked. “What, you didn’t think a badass biker could follow orders?”
“Honestly? Not at all.” I shook my head.
“Tell you what, you sit down to eat and I’ll tell you all about it.” He waved at the table where my dinner waited.
“What about you? Don’t you need dinner?” I settled into the chair and lifted the covers on the plates. “Wow.”
No pizza and hot dogs for these guys. They’d brought me chicken fried steak, asparagus, and mashed potatoes with sour cream and fresh chives.
“Good, huh?” He sat across the table from me. “Grub went all the way to London for chef school, and even graduated with honors. But the stuffiness got to him and he said he needed to roam free.” Scott grinned. “Not much space in England so he came home. He brought a pretty sweet 1967 Norton Commando with him, though.”
I laughed, entertained by Scott’s placement of value on the machinery rather than the international travel or skill set.
“I’m impressed with both the education and the motorcycle.” I gestured to my plate. “And the food. Did you get anything to eat yet?”
“Yeah, I’m good. You eat what you want.” He waved at me to dig in. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
I nodded, not sure I should encourage him, but enjoying his company despite my misgivings about him at first. “So you were going to tell me all about being in the Army.”
“Yeah, there
isn’t much to tell, really. I did a four year stint and got out. But in that time I saw a lot of the shitty results of war.” He shook his head as a I dug into my meal. “I thought it would be you go over there, shoot a few people, sneak around and look cool, then come home. But it wasn’t like that at all. Video games might show you what it looks like, but they don’t factor in the fear, the heat or the cold, or what happens when your buddies die. I see guys gettin’ frustrated when they die in the games and I’m like, dude, you just reset and you’re fine. In war, there’s no reset button.”
I cut up my steak and asparagus into bite sized pieces as I considered his words. “Did you lose a lot of friends over there?”
He shook his head, but his shoulders tensed. “Not a lot. I didn’t try to make friends. More that I was doing my time just to get through. But there were a couple of guys...” He didn’t finish and I didn’t press him. “When I got out, I was kinda at loose ends and Schnoz found me—Michael, I mean.”
I chuckled. “Is his nickname Schnoz because of the size of his nose?”
Scott grinned. “Road name, and kinda. It’s more that he can smell flowers or spices or blood from miles away. He’s a huge fan of spice cake. I swear the man maps out routes based on bakers of the stuff.”
I laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yup. When he’s leading the ride we always stay somewhere close to a bakery.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
Scott paused and tipped his head. “Why, you plannin’ on coming along on a ride?”
I blinked. I had been suggesting that, but it didn’t make any sense. I wouldn’t be here after my contracted work ended.
“No way. Motorcycles are dangerous.”
“Aw, are you scared of them?”
“Yup.” I didn’t mind admitting it. “My cousin died in a motorcycle crash and my family made it clear the rest of us wouldn’t never get near one.”
“Oh, yeah, but you weren’t in an accident. How do you know you won’t like it?” He gave me his best smirk.
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know I will?”
“You just need a professional to show you how it’s done. Someone who knows the value of all that power between your legs.”
