by Ryan Michele
The door burst open behind me, and I leap to my feet, dropping the ice pack to the ground. Rhys stands at the door, heaving with blood dripping from his hands.
I clutch my hands together and put them against my chest, knowing his mood is anything but happy.
“Come here,” he orders, the rise and fall of his wide chest and flaring nostrils freaking me out. He’s so pissed right now I’m not sure I should go to him, so I hesitate. “Sprite,” he says tersely.
I can’t stop my feet from moving toward him, my body trembling the whole time. Not that I believe he would hurt me; it’s just the first reaction. After James and then what just happened, I can’t stop the fear.
His hand cups my chin, turning it so he can look at where the asshole punched me. I have no doubt it’s red.
“It should mix in well with all the other fading bruises.” I wanted my tone to come out teasing, but it’s more flat, and Rhys hears it.
“Fucker won’t touch you again.” He pulls me roughly into his arms, and I wrap mine around his back, barely able to meet my fingers.
The nerves that were spiking uncontrollably begin to settle at his touch as I burrow myself into him, my face in his neck. I soak every bit of comfort I can from him and let his strength settle me.
His hand moves up to my hair, leaving fire on my skin as he threads his fingers through my tresses. I wince at the touch.
“Fucker pulled hard?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if I left some on the floor out there.” My words come out muffled into his neck, but I’m not ready to move yet. I want to stay right here in his warmth.
I ignore all the warning bells going off inside of me, telling me this is a bad idea. I shouldn’t feel this way with this man. Nevertheless, I cast it all aside and soak in the moment with him.
“I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” Those words make me move quickly.
I look into Rhys’s eyes that are filled with so much clouded anger I’m not sure I could help him at this point. “You can’t kill him. You’ll go to jail,” I whisper, moving my hand to his face then stopping myself. He doesn’t like to be touched there, I remember. I place my arm back around his waist.
Princess laughs from the other side of the room, but says nothing.
“You let me worry about those dickheads. I swear to you, they will never get near you again.”
I burrow my head and inhale deeply. Rhys smells like wind, outdoors, and plain out sin. I can’t get enough of it.
He pulls my head out the crook of his neck and kisses me hard. I don’t resist falling into the hungry kiss and enjoying every second of it. When he pulls away, I whine. I want his comfort. I want him.
“Sprite, stay with Princess for a bit. I’ll be back in a few, and you’re on the back of my bike.” He kisses me again, releases me, and like smoke, vanishes quickly.
“Well, fucking hell,” Princess says.
I stare at the door, willing him to just come back and hold me, but he doesn’t. Instead, I grab the ice pack and put it on my face.
I look up into Princess’s dancing eyes. “What?” I fall down into the chair, my legs sprawled out and head resting on the cushion. My head feels so heavy.
“Sister, Rhys doesn’t put women on the back of his bike. Ever.” None of this means anything to me, so I stare at her. She shakes her head, coming closer to me. She stops, her eyes squinting in thought. “Remember I told you about biker hard?”
How the hell could I forget? It scared the shit out of me.
“Yeah.”
“Part of biker code is only allowing women on the back that they choose. Rhys doesn’t allow any woman on the back of his bike. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him take one.”
My eyes narrow. “And this is some big deal?”
Princess chuckles. “Tanner, are you ready to be Rhys’s ol’ lady?”
I still, my body not even taking a breath. Princess has lost her mind.
“I’m only here for a bit longer. I’m sure the funeral is in a couple of days, and we’ll have to head back.”
“Whatever you say, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF rat shit. I grip the pleading man’s hair and pull as hard as I fucking can, wanting him to feel the hurt he put on Tanner.
His screams do nothing to stop the thunderstorm inside of me. I want his flesh. I want him a quivering fucking mess. I want him dead.
I pull the fucker hard again as Dagger begins his assault on the asshole’s ribs and stomach. Nothing like having the full wrath of both Dagger and me come down on you. I don’t fucking care. Cruz and GT are taking care of this asshole’s friends, leaving him to us.
“Don’t ever fucking touch my daughter!” Dagger unleashes blow after blow, the man getting limp in my arms.
His hair begins to tear in my hands as his weight plummets to the ground. I rub the hair in between my fingers then throw it to the ground, giving him three hard kicks to the ribs.
“Enough,” Pops calls from the sidelines. Fuck, didn’t even hear him walk up.
I stop my foot mid-kick and set my booted foot to the black-topped ground. There’s nothing like beating a guy in the parking lot.
“Get the fuckers’ IDs and leave them.”
“Just let me end him,” Dagger says to Pops.
“You don’t think he knows he fucked up? Look at him. He’s got fucking dress pants and loafers on. He’s learned his lesson.” I hate it when he’s right, but the chances of this asshole coming back are slim to none.
Dagger kicks the guy in the face, his head snapping back hard. No sounds come from him; he’s out cold.
Fine. I grab his wallet, taking all the cash, which is a pretty good wad, and grab the ID. I’ll have Buzz track the fucker and make sure he doesn’t come close to Ravage or Tanner again.
Cruz and GT hand me the cash they pulled with the IDs.
“Why the fuck you giving that shit to him? She’s my kid.” Dagger’s eyes narrow. He’s itching for a fight. He didn’t get enough of his frustrations out on these assholes and still has it pent up. I’ve known Dagger for-fucking-ever and know exactly what he needs.
I shove the bills and plastic in my back jeans pocket and stand tall, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Because Tanner’s fucking mine,” I say before I even think about what I’m saying. It wasn’t what I intended to come out, but it’s out there.
“Yours?” Dagger scoffs. “For how fucking long? A day, two? Fuck you,” he barks back. To be straight, his words don’t bother me. If anything, it’s the truest he’s said, but under the dark veil of night, with Dagger’s blood pumping, I egg him on.
“Until I’m fucking done with her.” This is an asshole-ish thing to say when, the truth is, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of the strawberry blonde.
“You prick.” Dagger comes at me full force, and I let him get a couple of punches in before I fight. He and I go head to head, the crack of flesh against bone echoing through the dark. Sure, he hits hard, and I’ll have some serious bruises, but I hit him just as hard, leaving the same marks. This is good, old-fashioned fighting: no guns or implements, only our hands and fists. I fucking love it.
“Stay away from my daughter,” he roars, giving me an uppercut.
I repay him with the same. “No.”
“You fucking hurt her, and I’ll tear you apart,” he growls at me and I smile. Seeing Dagger go all dad is seriously different, but I know everything coming out of his mouth is out of his pent up frustration.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Our blows continue to ensue. I can see the moment when Dagger has released the anger, and I back off.
“Oh, my God!” Tanner’s voice has my eyes swinging to the door. Her face is wide in shock as tears well up in her beautiful eyes. “What are you doing?”
Princess trails behind her with her hands up in the air. “She’s stubborn as shit. Cou
ld have subdued her, but what’s the fucking point?” she says in her defense.
Tanner rushes up and stands between Dagger and me. “Don’t do this. Why are you doing this?”
Dagger has full-out calmed himself, the fire in his eyes dying down to an ember. “Tanner, relax,” he tells her.
Her eyes grow cold. “Relax? You want me to relax? My father and …” She looks at me, the wheels turning in her head as she tries to explain our relationship.
Fuck it. I do it for her. “Man.”
She shakes her head. “Whatever are beating the hell out of each other in a parking lot. What is going on?”
I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her flush with my body as Dagger steps forward, a small smirk playing on his bloody face. “It’s good, Tanner. Rhys was just helping me get some shit out.”
Tanner’s body tightens in my arms, and I squeeze harder.
“By hurting each other?” She shakes her head.
Dagger’s hand comes to Tanner’s face, and she stops moving as he looks down at her. “I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay, but everything is fine.” Dagger looks up at me, lifting his chin. “Thanks, brother, I needed that.”
I just lift my chin in recognition.
“I don’t understand you at all,” Tanner says, putting her weight into me, and I take it.
I lean down to her ear. “Sprite, everything is fine.”
Her head turns to mine and she gasps. “Oh, God, you’re bleeding.” She tries to scramble out of my arms, but I don’t allow her to move.
“It’s all good.”
“But …” she sputters. Then I can feel her back straighten. “Come inside so I can clean you up.” She grabs my hand and pulls me back into the building. I allow it because she needs to have the break, and I truly need to get cleaned up before we head back to the clubhouse. If the cops stop me looking like this, I’ll be pulled in for questions.
X is still pumping, the dancers on stage doing their thing. For as tiny as Tanner is, she sure makes a quick path, taking me back to the dressing room. I lift my chin at Doug the guard at the curtain who says nothing as we pass.
“Oh, my God, Rhys!” One of the brunette dancers rushes up to me, placing her hand on my arm. Tanner says nothing, but the tick in her cheek tells me all I need to know. I brush the bitch off and move to the bathroom. Tanner follows and looks under the stalls while I lock the door. She says nothing of the confrontation, but I can tell she wants to.
“Yeah, I fucked her. I’ve fucked most of the women here. They’re easy.” I have no issues with my past. Why should I? I am who I am.
“Whatever. Sit.” She points to the counter, and I quirk my brow. It’s cute how she thinks she’s going to tell me what to do, but I appease her and sit. Fuck, this woman has me in knots.
She grabs paper towels, wetting them, and then begins to swipe the blood from my face. I watch her intently, noting each movement as she works wordlessly.
The redness on her cheek is beginning to bruise. It’ll be nasty in the morning, but I’ve unfortunately seen her with worse.
Her brows narrow as she takes in each cut and scar on my face and neck. My tattoos hide most of the scars, but when someone is up close, they aren’t hard to miss. Each one of those scars made me the man I am today and don’t bother me in the least.
“Wash your hands,” she orders, stepping back from me and throwing the wad of towels into the trash.
I hop off the sink and wash them. They burn, but no matter. I blot them off with the paper towel she’s holding, and I can tell the gears in her head are moving so fast I swear smoke will come out of her ears at any moment.
“I get it,” she says quietly.
I toss the towel away then lean my hip on the sink, giving her time to sort whatever is in her head out.
“He was pissed. Judging from the guys lying on the ground, it didn’t help him, so you did.” Her emerald eyes meet mine, shining. “You helped him.” I shrug. “Don’t do that,” she orders and steps into my space. I uncross my arms and put my hands on her luscious hips. “You fought with him to let him get it out. It’s strange, but I get it.”
I pull her into my arms, her face resting in my neck, her arms around my waist. I’m learning fast that this is one of my favorite positions for her.
“It’s good, Sprite. He needed to get it out.”
“And you just let him …” Her voice trails off with a slight tremble. I squeeze her tightly and feel the wetness from her tears hit my shirt. Fuck me.
“Sprite, it’s okay.”
She shakes her head, her hair rustling back and forth as I glide my hand up and down her back. Crying women is really not my thing, but with Tanner, my body just knows what to do.
I let her have her time, getting out everything that happened throughout the night. Once her body is boneless against mine and I’m holding all of her weight, I pull away and look into her red-rimmed eyes. She sniffles.
“Sprite, let’s get back.”
She nods.
My body needs to rest. I’m not as young as I used to be. I can take anything handed out to me, but I would be a fucking liar if I said my body didn’t ache from the blows.
“ARE YOU UPSET you left?” Ma asks me, making everything inside me twist.
That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. Leaving Cameron was the hardest thing I ever did in my life, right next to raising Tanner alone.
“I’ve always wondered what my life would have been like if I’d stayed.” If I had given us a chance… if I had been with him through the entire pregnancy… if … if…if. Life is full of what ifs, but I’m choosing to move forward from here. “But I can’t change any of that. It is what it is. I can’t look back anymore.” Lord knows, I’ve been doing it a lot in my dreams ever since we got here.
“No, you can’t look back, but what are you going to do moving forward?” she asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t got a clue,” I tell her honestly.
The way that Cameron kissed me back at that house sucked me in, and I was lost in him. Every feeling I had for him flared to life, but I would be lying to myself if I said I fit into his life now.
“You can always come back here.” She looks down sheepishly. “I know we were just acquaintances back then, but I remember the way Dagger looked at you. It was as if no one else in the room mattered. It still is.”
I pause at that last part. I’ve been so out of it I’m just now getting my bearings and able to function. Certainly, I’m sore, but it’s nothing near the pain I had before.
“Things with Cam”—I stop myself—“Dagger are so complicated.” I look away, not allowing the hurt on my face to show. “And he has a woman.” Whom he told me he was going to let loose.
Ma laughs. “Flash?” I don’t respond. “They’ve had this fucked up kind of relationship for years. You need to talk to him about that.” She pauses. “That is, if you want to stay.”
Stay, here? The one place that I was so happy yet had so much pain?
“He doesn’t need me here.” He doesn’t. He has a life. “Besides, I’m sure Tanner wants to head home, and I’m going with her.” I let all the confidence I have come through my words.
“I understand wanting to be where your kids are, Mearna, but what if she wants to stay here, too?”
I’ve thought of that. The way she is with Rhys is like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’ve met every one of the guys she’s dated, and not one of them had anything that Rhys does. To be honest, he scares the shit out of me, but when I really watch him with Tanner, it’s like he changes. His hard is still there, but there is also some soft, only reserved for her. I appreciate that.
My biggest hang up is her being involved with this life. I stayed away for more than twenty years, trying to protect her from all of this, and now she’s here, falling for her father’s friend.
The age thing doesn’t bother me. Maybe it should, but it’s not on the top of my issue list. The top of that
list is the biker life. It’s not an easy life, and I didn’t think I could hack it. While I know Tanner is strong and has spunk, I fear she wouldn’t be able to handle it, either.
“Then I deal with it.”
“You wouldn’t talk her out of it, would you?” Ma asks.
“No. She has to lead her own life.” I wouldn’t make decisions for her. She’s a grown woman and needs to make them for herself. As much as it would kill me to see her hurt, if that’s the way this road lays, then I’ll be there for her.
“You need to talk to Dagger,” Ma says.
“I know. I got a call today that the funeral is in three days. Tanner and I need to go.”
Ma sucks in a sharp breath. “You sure?”
“If we don’t go, it’ll look bad. I’m not sure what will happen when we get there, but Cam—Dagger said he took care of Griff and Miller, and I trust that he did.” I do. No way would Dagger lie about something like that. I know he’ll protect us.
“I’m sure he did.”
Cooper, Ma’s grandson, comes barreling into the room, a small airplane in hand as he flies it around us, making plane engine noises. He’s adorable, and I totally get why everyone is so in love with the little guy.
“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, stopping by my chair.
I know I said I wouldn’t think of the past, but my thoughts drift to Tanner at that age. Would she have been the apple in all these guys’ eyes, winning the hearts of all of the women? How would she have turned out differently? How would having her father in her life have changed her? She’s so beautiful and strong. I’m so damn proud of her for following her dream of being a hairstylist. I just can’t help wondering what would be different.
What about me? Would I have been happy? Would I have grown into this life?
A nudge to my arm snaps me out of my thoughts. “Huh?”
Cooper giggles. “Whatcha doin’? Dreamin’?”
