“Allie?”
Her gaze shot to his. “It was just a slap—”
He flinched, muscles bulging. “I was there. It was hard, so fuckin’ hard the sound still echoes in my ears.”
He had a point, but he was also angry, angry enough to take off and beat the shit out of Wyatt again. She didn’t want that, and so she caved. “I don’t know why you were there. I’m just glad you were. If you care about my brother at all, then what I tell you will stay between us.”
He didn’t say a word, but he nodded.
“He hit me before. Once. It’s the real reason I left.”
He fisted his hands, looking away from her then met her stare again. “He hit you one other time, but that other time, he didn’t just slap you.” He leaned into her and whispered, “He beat the shit outta you, beat you hard enough to leave marks. You had to wait for the bruises to fade before you got on a plane and headed here.” Pure disdain in his voice.
She thought it would hurt to say it aloud. Turns out, it hurt to hear it, too.
His eyes darkened. “And your dickhead father probably told you, you deserved what you got for disobeying your fiancé, and then he gave you several days off, so you wouldn’t show up to work bruised.”
She swallowed. How he knew, she didn’t know.
He lifted his hand and softly grazed his fingers over her sore, bruised cheek. “You let us, we’ll protect you. You don’t want to tell your brother, then don’t, but give him that, let us protect you. We can.”
He paused, then blew her mind. “You deserve so much more than life handed you, Allie, so fuckin’ much more.” His voice ragged and yet tender.
Her eyes misted. It was him, what he said, the way he said it, while tenderly caressing her sore cheek. All of it made her think he meant it, made her want to believe it, and again, made her think he cared.
The deadbolt unlocked. Jace drew away. She turned. Ty strode in, carrying two pizzas. “Camaro is sweet, Allie. May need to get me one.”
Still unsettled by the only man who could do that to her to such a degree her baby being praised didn’t affect her, she smiled a fake smile.
Chapter Sixteen
Allie dropped her purse on the couch and strode into her kitchen, wondering what the hell she’d make for dinner. Outside, the roar of a bike sounded. It only meant one thing. Ty had come to pay her a visit.
Yesterday, he’d stopped by her work during lunch hour and taken her out to eat. She’d been in Wadden for close to two months and never had he done this. It gave her the impression he used lunch as an excuse to check on her. She didn’t mind, considering the Wyatt encounter left her shaky, nervous, and afraid.
Ty ensured her he’d handled it. Jace told her as much too, but it didn’t stop her worry. Wyatt Morris was the type of man who set his mind to something and got it, the type who never went down without a fight. He cheated while they’d been together, but now, he wanted to fight for her. Go figure. Every time she thought about it, guilt clogged her throat, a nagging nervous energy strengthened.
She headed for the door to greet Ty, parted it expecting to spot him coming up the stairs, but he never did. Turning, she grabbed her keys, headed out, and downstairs. She spotted a Harley with Cuss sitting astride it. He looked to her and smiled. Returning the smile, she closed the distance between them. “Hey, Cuss.”
“Hey, Miracle.” His eyes softened. “How you been?”
She hated she’d become a victim again, hated people treating her with kid gloves. Still, it showed they cared, and so, she dealt with it by ignoring it. She shrugged then looked away from his eyes and lied. “Okay.”
He didn’t say anything else, but his eyes scanned her warily.
Hating that too, she broke the silence. “So you’re going to sit out here or are you coming in for a visit?”
“Just doin’ my job,” he replied, easily.
“What?” She didn’t understand. What job did he have sitting outside her apartment building?
Oh, God. Her brother had done what he’d said. He’d put the guys on her. Ty stayed the night two days ago, which meant someone from the club had been parked outside and watched her apartment the night before. Because of her. Because she’d brought her mess to California, to her brother, to the club.
The now too familiar guilt resurfaced.
Well, this wasn’t her fault completely. Ty could definitely take part of the blame for having them sit outside her apartment when she had a perfectly good couch.
Suddenly angry, she demanded, “Inside, Cuss. Don’t argue, and I’ll make you dinner.”
His lips twitched, hiding a smile. He hopped off his bike and followed her up the stairs and into her apartment. She unlocked the door, swung it open, allowing him in.
“Take a seat, watch TV, and relax. I’ll get you a beer, unless you prefer something stronger.”
He grinned. “You’re gonna make some lucky bastard a fan-fuckin-tastic wife.” Then he added, “Beer’s good, Allie. Thanks.”
Damn, so sweet. Tiffany was a lucky girl. She made the decision then and there to intervene. “Because you said that and didn’t argue, I’ll make you filet and mac and cheese.”
His grin widened. He got comfortable on her couch and turned on the TV.
****
Trig and Army had a run, their turn to scrounge the streets, making sure druggies, gang bangers, prostitutes, and old enemies were out of Wadden.
Hell Ryders had once been heavily involved in criminal activity, primarily running drugs and guns. It made their small, quiet town a hub for gangs and violence, and the residents suffered in its wake. Six years ago, the club voted, agreed to leave the drugs, guns, and the shit it came with behind, but the president at the time had gotten too greedy. He continued to run drugs and guns with the help of three other brothers.
The rest of the club had been oblivious to it. It went on for a year and ended one night in the woods. That’s where they’d found their bodies. Marcus, their current president, had been vice president at the time. He’d taken the reins and vowed it was the end. It had been. Around that time, he and Army joined the club.
Now their runs consisted of ensuring drugs stayed off the streets of their town and ensuring other clubs and gangs didn’t encroach their territory. For a long time now, they hadn’t had any trouble. There was always the threat. One in particular, another motorcycle club they’d severed ties with, Chained MC, who hadn’t been thrilled they’d lost Wadden as a route.
Hell Ryders lived off the garage and their guard services, which wasn’t entirely legal, since often they were paid for extras, namely roughing up assholes. They were always assholes who deserved it. They made sure of it.
On their runs, they went in teams. Trig and Army were usually teamed together.
“Yo,” Army shouted.
Trig turned to look in his direction and nodded.
Army closed the distance, hopped on his bike parked next to his. “Wanna pass by Allie’s to make sure Cuss is there.”
He nodded, revved his bike, and drove off headed to Allie’s place. Once there, he spotted Cuss’s bike but no Cuss. Army wasted no time parking, hopping off, and heading to her door. He followed close behind, waited while Army knocked.
Through the door, he heard the sound of the TV blaring. Not a second later, her laugh filled the air. She parted the door, still laughing, and barely fucking dressed, barefoot and wearing a pair of too short shorts and a tight spaghetti strap shirt.
“Hi.”
Army strode past her then tensed. He followed behind and spotted Cuss sitting on Allie’s couch, a beer set on the coffee table and a plate of food. Cuss had his own plate in his hand and had just shoved a large piece of meat in his mouth.
“What the fuck?” Army asked.
Exactly his fucking thought. They looked like a damned couple, enjoying dinner and beers, watching TV, and laughing.
Shit. Cuss and Allie. He had to worry about them again, about Allie liking Cuss instead of him,
about Cuss making a fucking move. It’d be so fucking easy. They were alone. She was barely fucking dressed. The fucking thought killed. Jealousy knotted his gut and turned his stomach.
Cuss’s gaze shot to them. “Hey, Army, Trig.” Barely audible, he still had a piece of steak in his mouth.
The door slammed behind them, and then, Allie stood barefoot in front of Army in her little damned shorts, showing off those fantastic legs, and perfectly manicured toes.
Fuck.
He looked at Cuss shoving a forkful of good-smelling mac and cheese into his mouth, who thank God wasn’t checking out her ass because God help him he would fucking tear Cuss’s eyes out of their sockets.
He heaved a sigh.
“Um, hi to you, too.” Her voice laced in sarcasm.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Army asked.
A stupid question. Seriously. They were playing house. Allie comfortable in a pair of too-fucking-short shorts and a tight camisole, Cuss sitting comfy on her couch. Trig’d bet his life she’d gotten him that beer, and she’d cooked for Cuss, again. She’d never, not once, cooked for him. She was a good cook. When she’d lived at the compound, she cooked for some of the guys, and it was all they talked about. He’d roughed up her ex, beat up her ex, held her when she cried, but she’d never cooked for him. One more reason to be jealous.
Shit. He really wanted to hit Cuss. Hard.
“Obviously, Ty, we’re having dinner.”
Army ignored Allie, heaving a frustrated sigh. He moved past her and took two menacing steps in Cuss’s direction. “Cuss, what the fuck?”
Cuss’s brows drew together, and because he was a fucking idiot, he looked baffled. He dropped his fork and set his plate on the table. “What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’? You got a job to do, and that job is looking out for my sister. You do that by watching guard outside, not fuckin’ drinking beers, eating, and relaxing in front of my sister’s TV.”
Cuss stood, squaring his shoulders. “Brother, I can watch her better from inside her apartment, and she offered to cook for me. I’d be a fuckin’ idiot not to take her up on the offer.”
Army took another step in Cuss’s direction and barked, “Outside. Now.”
Allie stepped in between the two, tilting her head to look at Cuss. “Sit. Finish your food. Drink your beer and relax.” Her attention then returned to her brother. “Leave. Now.”
Army fisted his hands. “Allie,” he said in a dead serious tone.
“Tyler Alexander Holden, I’m going to tell you this once then you and Jace are leaving.”
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t say anything when you announced you and Jace were going to New York with me. I didn’t say anything when you insisted I bring all my stuff from New York, stuff, need I remind you, that I didn’t need. I didn’t say anything when you looked into a guy I dated once.
“Until recently, I hadn’t asked you about the club and the club’s business. When I did, it was only because you showed up here with a black eye and made it my business. And I didn’t say anything when I realized you put the guys on me.
“Now I’m going to say something, and not only are you going to listen, you’re going to do what I want and you’re not going to give me shit about it.
“Cuss and whoever else you put on helpless Alyssa guard isn’t sleeping outside sitting astride a Harley or in a truck or any other car. Whoever is on helpless Alyssa guard is coming into my apartment. I’m going to make him a meal, give him a couple of beers, and let him watch whatever he wants to watch on TV, and then he’s going to sleep on my couch—”
Army threw his hands in the air. “But—”
“I’m not done.” Her face flushed in anger. “Cooking them a meal, getting them a beer, letting them watch TV, and crash on my couch is the least I can do for coming here and dumping all this on the club’s lap, so I’m going to do it, and you are going to let me.”
“Cuss needs to keep an eye out—”
“For me? Yeah, I get that. It’s why it’s better if he’s a room away instead of downstairs.”
Damn, she had a point. Cuss made the same point, but still, a biker sleeping on her couch, that biker being Cuss, who looked at a woman and she spread her legs, it didn’t sit well with him.
“Now, thanks for the visit, but you need to go.”
His gaze shot to Army, begging him to say something, do something. Any-fucking-thing.
Army looked at Cuss. Before he opened his mouth, Allie said, “If you say ‘off limits,’ I swear I’m taking off, and I’m not telling you where I’m going.”
Army looked to his boots then ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
Allie then turned to Cuss. “I told you to sit.” She took Cuss’s plate and headed into the kitchen.
Trig stood frozen, hearing the sound of the microwave opening and closing, turning on, then shutting off with a loud beep. A moment later, she reentered with the plate of steaming food and handed it to Cuss, who finally sat and began to eat.
She’d reheated Cuss’s food after it’d only sat out for a minute.
Fuck.
Army stared blankly, stumped. She’d stumped him. Trig was stumped, too, except he knew what he would do if he could.
Army turned, facing him.
“Lock the door on your way out, and let me know who’s on helpless Alyssa guard tomorrow,” Allie called out.
They left. Army locked the door. As they headed downstairs, Army cut into his thoughts. “Need a favor, Trig.”
Trig spared a look in his direction but didn’t speak. He couldn’t. The bitter taste of jealousy lingered.
“Need you on Allie for the next week. I got a guard out of town. I know it’s a big favor considering tomorrow’s Friday, but…” Army’s voice trailed off.
One week with Allie making him meals in short shorts, watching her walk and smile, and hearing her talk and laugh. Shit. He was the luckiest trailer trash on earth.
“Don’t trust Cuss with Allie. Don’t think he’d do anything but…Shit, there’s something about him women can’t help but drool over. Don’t want Allie to fall victim.”
Trig didn’t know if he could successfully pull off hiding how he felt much longer, especially if Allie wore those shorts, made him dinner, and slept a room away, so he knew he should make up some excuse, say he couldn’t watch her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t care if it made him selfish. He wanted to play house with her. He may never have her, but for a week, he’d pretend she was his.
He nodded.
“I know you got Della on Saturday, so I’ll arrange for one of the other guys to watch her during the day.”
He nodded again, thanking God small miracles were granted to trailer trash like him.
****
Walking into her apartment, Allie dropped her purse on her couch and headed into the kitchen, listening intently for the roar of a bike.
Tyler called her that morning and told her he had to go out of town for the next week on “club business.” At this point, asking was pointless, so she didn’t. After he promised to call her and check in, she told him to be safe and hung up. She’d completely forgotten to ask him who would guard her. During lunch, she called him, but he never answered. She supposed it didn’t matter. She knew all the guys. Of course, she was friendlier with some than others. As long as it wasn’t…
Her thought faded when she heard the roar of a bike. She didn’t have to meet anyone downstairs but figured, Ty probably hadn’t told whoever it was to come upstairs. She headed to her door, slung it open, and froze.
Shit.
There, as handsome and rugged as ever, stood Jace, wearing a black T-shirt tight across his chiseled chest, his cut, and well-worn faded jeans. His arm raised like he’d been about to knock.
She must’ve stood there staring at him blankly for a while because he lifted a brow. “Gonna invite me in, give me a beer, make me dinner, and let me crash on your couch or does that apply to everyone but me?”
Truth told, she didn’t want him in her apartment. She didn’t want to get him a beer or cook him dinner, and she really didn’t want him sleeping on her couch. It would be too easy to pretend they were more than acquaintances. But, she couldn’t be rude to the man who’d saved her twice just because she couldn’t think, much less cook, or sleep with him in the next room.
Her cheeks flamed. “Yeah, sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting you.”
He parted his mouth, then shut it, clenching his jaw. Yep, she’d done it. Definitely pissed now.
She stood aside, and he strode through, his presence filling the room. He didn’t sit. Instead, he turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest.
She closed the door and locked it. “Do you want a beer or something stronger?”
“Beer.”
She nodded. “I planned to make chicken parmesan with spaghetti unless you wanted something else.”
He dropped his arms and looked away from her. “You don’t have to go through the trouble of making me dinner. I can order something for us.”
Of course, he’d say that. He was the only member of the club who’d never eaten her food. Why? Probably because he hated her. When she lived at the compound, she cooked all the time and made plenty for everyone. He’d look at her in his angry biker way and walk away. She couldn’t help but feel insulted then and now though she knew she was a good cook, even smug Wyatt told her so. “Are you scared I’ll poison you or something?”
Apparently, this amused him, he grinned. “No, Allie.”
“Then?”
“You don’t want me here, so I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
She didn’t, but he didn’t want to be there anyway. “You don’t want to be here.”
His eyes darkened. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be here.”
What did that mean? He rather be with her than at Friday Night Fiasco at the compound? Her heart fluttered with hope. She fought to ignore it then released a breath. “I’m making dinner for myself. I don’t mind making a little extra for you. Besides, I think I owe you several home-cooked meals considering…”
Running Wild (Hell Ryders MC Book 1) Page 13
