“So, my mom told me this morning, your dad owned some kind of classic car restoration company?”
I nodded, and noted she wasn’t in bitch mode. “Yeah. Reckon that’s why your dad assigned me to you, so I can help you build your car.”
“My dad bought me a dirt bike when I was six. Most of the other MC kids had them, too. I got pissed ‘cause one of the boys kept beating me when we raced, and when I didn’t get a new, faster bike for my eighth birthday, like I’d asked, I snuck downstairs in the middle of the night and took my bike apart, thinking I could figure out a better way to put it back together, make it faster. I’d watched my dad tear bikes down and rebuild them, figured it couldn’t be that hard.”
She was talking to me like a regular human, so I smiled and asked, “And how’d that work out, Princess?”
“Stop calling me princess.”
It was an order, not a request, so I answered, “Stop acting like one for a few days, and I’ll consider it.”
She shook her head. “I shocked the ever-loving shit out of myself on the ignition condenser, and my dad came running downstairs when he heard me scream, and then busted out laughing when he saw what I’d done. He moved all the parts to the shop the next day, and made me help him put it back together.”
She paused a few seconds before adding, “I raced the hell out of all the boys the next time we got to go to the forest and ride, though. The boy I’d been struggling to get in front of? I lapped him. Felt damned good.”
“So, you’re happy about this project, or pissed you have to build your own car?” Most girls would be pissed.
“A little of both, probably. I mean, he knows I wanted a Miata for my sixteenth, but I also knew it wasn’t likely to happen. He hates new computerized shit, so this is probably as close to a Miata as I was likely to get. I like knowing how things work, so as long as it doesn’t take too fucking long to put it together…”
I was liking this new side of her, and warning bells went off in my head. She was gorgeous, and exactly my type, plus she was smart and wasn’t afraid of me. If her dad ever got a whiff of what I really wanted to do to his daughter, he’d cut pieces of me off before he killed me.
Trying to keep up the antagonism we seemed to have going, and reassert myself as the adult, even though I was only three years older, I told her, “You didn’t cuss like this around your daddy last night.”
She shook her head. “Daddy doesn’t care if I cuss, but Mom wants me to learn how to control it. She knows I cuss when I’m not around her, but if I ever get caught by her, any of my friends’ parents, or by the teachers, I’m in deep shit.” She shook her head again and rolled her eyes. “She says there’s a time and place for everything, and I have to learn when it’s appropriate and when it isn’t.” She gave me a mock appraising look and added, “Didn’t figure you to have virgin ears.”
“What’s the story with Kayla’s dad?” I’d gotten the rundown from Brain today, but wanted to hear Angelica’s take.
“He works narcotics, which means while he has moral issues with the club, his current position doesn’t represent a conflict of interest.” She used air quotes on the last three words, and I wondered if she’d heard this from Kayla or her dad, but didn’t interrupt to ask. “He knows the MC is anti-drugs, and he knows we keep our section of the city drug-free. Still, he doesn’t want Kayla to associate with the club members, or be on club property. Not even the shop — which means she can’t hang out when I work on my car.” She shrugged and looked out the window. “Dad’s serious about keeping the agreement, too. I tried to sneak her into a family party once, and he marched us straight to Kayla’s house and was straight-up with her dad about it, as soon as he realized she was there.”
“What’d her dad do?”
“We were both grounded for two weeks. From every fucking thing. Even our damned phones and computers.”
I pulled into the RTMC’s shop and decided it was time to start talking about her car. “If you’ve already torn a bike down and rebuilt it, you know about spark plugs, alternators, engine basics, and simple transmissions already. Right?”
Chapter Four
Seven months later
Angelica
“Fuck you, Sloane! You’re an asshole of the biggest proportions!”
“Yeah, and I’m Pack, and you’re a fucking lone wolf. You exist in this city because my Pack allows it. Now, get on your knees and blow me, cunt.”
How could I have thought he was so great? And what the fuck had made me think sneaking out with him was a good idea? Dad was on a run, Mom was doing something with the other ol’ladies, and Bash had been given the night off because I was supposed to stay in and study for a huge chemistry exam tomorrow. Brain had been working with me for a week, though, and I was ready for the test, so I agreed to sneak out and meet Sloane.
Sloane’s twenty. He’s in college, but he can come home on the weekends some until football practice starts back, and I thought he liked me.
But, there was no time to get my feelings hurt right now. I needed a plan. I knew I couldn’t take him — he’s a linebacker for Georgia State, and a werewolf. My daddy’s taught me to defend myself, and I’m good at it, but I didn’t stand a chance against Sloane.
My left cheek erupted in pain and my head slung around, and I had to take a step back to keep my balance. The fucker had slapped me.
“On. Your. Knees. Cunt.”
Tears filled my eyes, but I took a breath and brought my emotions under control. If I had to do this, I’d do it, but he wouldn’t get my tears. I’d seen the club sluts giving blowjobs as if it was nothing — I could pull it off, too. I dropped to my knees as I told him, “My daddy will kill you for this.” My voice was totally steady as I said it. Go me.
Of course, he’d smell my terror, and my revulsion, but I couldn’t stop the way I smelled. I did not want to put his dick in my mouth, but I seemed to be out of options, and tears filled my eyes again. Dammit.
“You tell your daddy and you’ll start a Pack war with the RTMC. People you love will die. Sure you want to do that over a fuckin’ blowjob?” he asked as he unfastened his pants and pulled his cock out.
I heard something a half-second before Sloane fell away from me, and my wolf instincts had me up and on the other side of his Range Rover in an instant, using it as cover since I didn’t have the keys.
I smelled Bash, and then I smelled Sloane’s blood, and my mouth fell open as I watched Bash beat the ever-lovin’ hell out of another wolf twice his weight.
When Bash stopped hitting him, I only heard one heartbeat besides my own, which seemed to be trying to escape my rib cage.
“Fuck.” It was all I could think of to say, but it pretty much summed up the situation. My terror of a few minutes ago when I was at Sloane’s mercy hadn’t totally faded, and now I worried about the fallout of… shit, killing a Pack member.
After another two minutes of silence, with Bash standing over Sloane’s body, I finally trusted my legs enough to walk towards them. Sloane’s skull was caved in, his facial features totally gone.
“How did you know I snuck out?”
“Knew something was up, just didn’t know what. Kept an eye on you.”
“Thanks.”
His chuckle had no humor in it at all. “Glad I could help, Princess.”
“No one knows you’re here. I’ll call Duke.”
He nodded, and I called the person my dad had left in charge.
“Punkin?” God, the club had given me the nickname when I was a toddler, and it’d stuck. I might get aggravated at Bash calling me Princess, but at least he didn’t call me Punkin.
“I have a situation. We’re gonna need you and Brain, probably a cargo van, and some old timers. No bikes, no colors.” Old-timers was a code word for ‘this is as bad as it gets and make sure you bring people super loyal to the club’.
“You alone?”
“Not saying over the phone. I’m safe for the time being, but you need to come fas
t.”
I told him where I was, and he said he’d be there in fifteen minutes. I told him to try to make it ten, even though I knew it was a twenty-minute drive at this time of night, with no traffic.
“You’re a little scary sometimes, Princess,” Bash told me as I hung up and put my phone back in my pocket.
I looked at him a few seconds and answered, “I’m not the one who just bashed someone’s skull in.”
He shook his head. “Your dad would’ve given the same damned instructions, with the same damned tone of voice. You’re fifteen years old, Angelica.”
“You never call me by my name.”
He shook his head. “Think you’ve earned it tonight, Princess.”
I rolled my eyes and looked back at Sloane. “I owe you big.”
“You have no idea. I had three nice pieces of ass lined up for tonight, and had to blow ‘em off to come rescue your ass.”
I’d seen him with two women on a picnic table at a party a few months ago, so I didn’t doubt he could line up three. The standard party line was that his nickname stood for Bashful, kind of like one of our biggest enforcers was named Tiny. However, I’d heard it was because he had a habit of bashing people’s heads in.
And now, I’d seen him in action.
I still wasn’t afraid of him, as in, worried he’d hurt me. I knew he’d never change into a nice guy, but I also knew he’d always protect me. I wished he was keeping me safe because I was important to him, but I knew it was all about getting his last patch.
Somewhere in a parallel universe, I hoped things were working out so Bash and I could be together, and it was me he was having sex with. I’d had to keep those thoughts out of my head as much as possible, though, because werewolves can smell arousal, and if my dad picked up on it then he’d assign me someone else. I’d grown to love Bash, but I’d had to keep it completely platonic, and admire his body as one would a work of art, instead of the most beautiful man on the planet. All thoughts about my being one of the girls bent over the picnic table had to be relegated to my bedroom in the middle of the night.
When the men arrived in the cargo van, everyone went to work. Brain got started on Sloane’s phone, looking at the texting history and saying he’d have to erase it from the two different phone companies’ servers. “We lucked up and he only texted his plans to you, so if we blow it out of your phone, destroy his phone and make sure it stays lost, and wipe the phone companies’ servers, there won’t be a record.”
Duke got Bash’s clothes, and the guys went about making sure all DNA evidence went into bags. Brain had come in a separate vehicle, and he drove me home before I could see too much of what they did. I’d been schooled in how to get away with murder, should it ever come to it, so I had an idea of what they were doing, but without my dad there to make the decision these guys weren’t going to let me stick around and watch.
“You holdin’ up okay?” Brain asked as we pulled onto the main road.
“I’m an idiot, and now Bash had to kill someone else. Will he be okay?”
Brain chuckled. “Bash doesn’t have enough of a conscience for this to make him lose any sleep, Angelica.”
Brain always used my real name, and I wished he weren’t driving so I could give him a hug. “I know he’d never hurt me, but he’s a little scary, isn’t he?”
“Most people think all of us are scary.”
“Yeah, and I’m used to all of you, and think he’s scary, so I’m guessing it makes him truly frightening.”
“Always listen to your gut. I like him, but have to admit your instincts are probably dead on. What did your gut tell you about Sloane?”
“It told me sneaking out was a bad idea, but I thought it was just because of what my dad would do if he found out.”
He pulled into my driveway and said, “Your mom isn’t home, and I won’t tell her anything, but you know we’ll have to tell your dad when he gets back.”
I nodded, knowing this was too big to keep from him. “Can we keep this from erupting into a war?” The RTMC and Pack didn’t get along under the best of circumstances. If they thought we’d killed one of them it would get ugly, and fast.
“Depends on who he told he was meeting you. Nothing in his text messages, but that doesn’t mean someone else didn’t know. He and his car are gonna disappear, and if the Pack gets wind he was supposed to be with you, it won’t be pretty. Since he forced you, we can hope he didn’t tell anyone of his plans for the evening, so he could deny being with you at all if you levied accusations later. His calendar has lots of dates listed in the past and future, but he didn’t put a note about meeting you.”
“Bash is gonna get his colors now, since he saved me, killed for me, and I’ll have to break someone else in.” And I would miss Bash something awful. I might not be able to have him, but I got to see him nearly every day.
“Yeah, and if you don’t ace your chemistry exam tomorrow, Georgia State is never gonna let you start taking classes this summer before you graduate high school.”
A car pulled into the driveway behind us, blocking us in, and a patrol car pulled up on the street. Adrenaline flooded my system, fear racing through my veins, and Brain touched my arm. “They can’t know. Kayla’s dad’s behind us and I recognize the cops on the road. This is something else. Play it cool, yeah?”
I nodded, and we both got out of his car.
I could smell grief and sorrow coming off Kayla’s dad. “Your mom was in an accident, Angelica. We need to get your dad home, can you give us a way to reach him?”
“Which hospital is she at? I need to go to her!”
He exchanged a look with Brain, and then looked back to me, shaking his head, his eyes sad as he said, “I’m so sorry. She’s gone, Angelica.”
It took a good five or ten seconds for his words to sink in enough for me to register what he was saying, and I screamed, “No! She can’t be!” I looked to Brain, knowing I couldn’t say anything about her being a werewolf, but we’re hard to kill, so maybe they thought she couldn’t survive her injuries, but she just needed someone to help her change.
Brain was holding me, his strong arms around me. Supporting me, because my knees didn’t want to hold me up. I felt myself panicking, losing focus, and I took a breath to clear my head. This wasn’t right. My mother couldn’t be dead. We just needed to hear the facts and then everything would be okay.
One of the uniformed officers stepped forward and I smelled cat. Leopard, maybe. Some kind of shifter. “When someone is pronounced dead on the scene, it means it was bad, ma’am. The Lieutenant here says your dad’s out of town. Can you reach him?” Was this his way of letting me know he knew she was a wolf, and it’d been bad enough to kill her? My mind was swimming, unwilling to accept the fact my mom was gone. There had to be a mistake. I’d just seen her a few hours ago, and she’d been fine.
Brain held me tighter. “Her dad can’t be contacted. He’s in the woods where there isn’t any cell service. I’ll see to it she’s taken care of. Thanks for the notification.”
He turned me towards my front door, and I let him walk me inside. I still didn’t believe my mom was dead. She’d been fine the last time I saw her — this had to be a mistake.
I listened as he made a few phone calls, getting people to the house. Bash was there within thirty minutes, though he took a shower and changed clothes again before he came to me. By then, Brain had hacked into something and found out my mom had been hit by a drunk driver, and had been decapitated. I was starting to believe by this point, and I was on the sofa with Brain, crying, trying to make sense of everything going through my head. I’d never lost anyone close to me before, and I didn’t truly understand how my life was about to change. I was in shock, I think, but the grieving process had already begun, and it felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest.
Brain needed to work on the phone records, because we still had Sloane’s death to cover up. He handed me off to Bash and went to work on his laptop.
&
nbsp; And Bash… hard-assed Bash, who never showed any emotions, held me, petted me, and kept me from spinning out of control. He let me cry, let me soak his shirt with my tears, and didn’t tell me it would be okay. The only specific things I remember him saying was, “I have you, Princess,” and, “The man who killed her will pay.” I know he said other stuff, and none of it was a lie, and nothing was empty words. Bash would never say any of the asinine things people say when they don’t know what else to say — everything happens for a reason, or the good Lord needed one of his angels home. It’s all bullshit. Some idiot human got drunk, got behind the wheel of his Hummer, and killed my mom. You can’t make sense of that, and Bash didn’t try to force sense into something so fucking senseless. He held me, he comforted me, and I’ll always love him for it.
One of the ol’ladies brought me something to take, and I didn’t even ask what it was, I just put it on my tongue and let it slide down my throat as I drank some water, and then let Bash hold me until I fell asleep. I saw Bash look at the bottle before he let her give it to me, and I trusted him to keep me safe.
I woke up on top of Bash the next morning, both of us fully clothed, on the sofa. Brain was asleep in the recliner, and we all looked at each other as the doorbell rang again.
Brain ran his hands through his hair as he walked to the front door, and Bash and I sat up, so we were side by side on the sofa.
I smelled Kayla’s mom when Brain opened the door.
“Angelica, baby, you need to come home with me, let us take care of you until we can reach your dad.” She’d brought a breakfast casserole, which told me she already knew I wouldn’t come. Still, I got the message — she didn’t approve of my being in the house alone with Bash and Brain, and I bristled.
“I’m sorry you can’t understand, but these guys are my family. They’d die before they let anything happen to me, and that isn’t a figure of speech.”
Bash, Volume I (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 3) Page 2
