Hotstreak: A Bad Boy New Adult Romance (Chaos, Nevada Book 2)

by Liz K. Lorde

“The Vice, girl,” she shook her head, “Vice President. But that’s not unusual for him, he’s always got a kind word to put in for the pretty little things such as yourself.”

  It felt good to be complimented, but I sensed an air of something - was it jealousy?

  “Reyes? Well, he’s not the open fist type, so to speak. But he’s getting the same vibe that I’m getting.”

  “I’d hope that I don’t put out any particular vibe. Or a bad one, at least.”

  “Well you do,” Holly insisted, “I saw you last night, a couple of times. You’ve got trouble written all in black on that forehead of yours - Reyes thinks the exact same.”

  Shit, those two really seem to see through me. But, I felt like I was being honest with them. I was enjoying myself, I liked Hunter, even.

  Frack. Maybe it was more than just that, even.

  Holly brought the pint to her lips and tilted her head back, downing most of the drink, “I’m not thinking you’re quite as shady as Reyes would have me believe,” Holly admitted, “like to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

  “How kind of you,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Watch your tone, or I’ll reconsider that kindness,” Holly warned. “I’m going to tell you this much,” she narrowed her gaze at me, “if you hurt Hunter? If you hurt that good man; if you even think about ruining the one damn good thing about him, his heart? I. Will. Ruin you.”

  Fire sprouted in every direction from my chest like a bad seed, vines of fear cording themselves around my person - worry pooling in my tight throat. I wanted to say something, wanted to confirm what I feared beneath the surface; that perhaps, she was a once lover?

  But she saw that Hunter was coming back, and took that as her cue to take her leave. “Remember,” she said low, grabbing her beer by the rim, “remember what I said, Jessica Ives.”

  The air left me in a quickness and it felt like the ceiling was coming down over me and me alone. I had the horrible panicky urge to look around the bar, as if a hundred eyes were watching me and raking along my skin - as though they could all hear my thoughts.

  How the hell does she know my full name? This was not good. This was NFG.

  Not. Fucking. Good.

  Hunter sidled over to my side and sat down, giving me a pointed look, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I replied, pushing back a strand of my hair, “that woman over there, do you know her?”

  Hunter peeked around me, “Yeah, that’s my ex Holly.”

  Jolts of heat ran through me. I knew she had to be. “Isn’t it, I don’t know, difficult? To be around your ex like that?”

  “It was for a while, yeah,” Hunter acknowledged, scratching at the scruff of his gorgeous stubble. “But we’d known each other for a long time, and she’s part of the MC at the end of the day – so it’s not like I can just up and ignore her. We used to have something,” his haunting eyes fell on mine, “but that’s in the past now. We just weren’t right for each other, you know?”

  “I can relate to that,” I said through bared teeth.

  “Not everything’s gotta end up in flames; we never argued, never got out of control – I guess, in a weird way, that was all a part of it. There was nothing to burn up or not much at least. So me and Holly are still friends.”

  “Friends that used to be inside of one another,” I pointed out, that invisible knife digging itself against my breast.

  Hunter’s face screwed up in amusement, “How else am I going to get people to like me?” He displayed his jawline to me in a mocking manner, “I can’t just get by on being ridiculously handsome, Jessica.”

  “Let’s go with just handsome,” there was a playful barb to my tone, I had to admit I was enjoying myself much more now – Hunter seemed to have that effect on me. Making me feel at ease, making me feel safe. Both of which my ex never made me feel. “And I’m sure you could resort to physical violence, if you really wanted to impress people,” I brought my pale hand over to Hunter’s bicep and squeezed it. It was tight and hard, and my inner self hand to back handedly clean up her slobber.

  Hunter flexed, making his muscles move against my hand, “That’s not the only thing I can get to attention.”

  I laughed lightly as I ran my hand all along the length of his corded muscles; I was simply fascinated, and admittedly turned on some, by just how strong he was. “You say that like it’s something to be proud of. Most men can do what you’re boasting, dickhead.” Imagining Hunter picking me up in those great arms sent delightful pinpricks along the base of my spine.

  Hunter exhaled a hard breath through his nose, that soul weakening smile cutting through and filling me with warmth, “Dickhead,” he said beneath his breath, sniggering and in a small fit of laughter now, “d-did you mean to make that pun?”

  I smirked, “That’s actually my moonlighting job. Pun master and High Lady of the Pun Council.”

  Hunter rested his elbows on the counter of the bar and put a hand over his mouth, looking away from me seemed to be the only thing that he could do to calm himself – his face beginning to redden. “Mozz!” He called out, in an unusually higher pitched voice – not sexy, but very cute. “Drinks,” Hunter brought his hand away from his smiling mouth only to speak, “please.”

  And drink we did.

  The hours crawled by and we relished in each other’s company. Hunter practically continued to parade me around the bar when others from the MC showed up. Every once in a while, someone not from the Reapers would come in – regulars of the bar; tourists just passing through, truckers that parked no doubt at a nearby Wal-Mart. Even the slimiest looking of guests were nothing short of polite, if not talkative.

  Jameson; Reyes, Hunter, Lex who had snuck in while we were drinking, Brad and a few others got together and played darts. We laughed and we played and the boys teased me relentlessly – for every word of shit they gave me, I gave it right back. Even if I did end up losing. Though, I did better than the night before, much to my joy.

  Wings and fries were brought in by the increasingly talented Mozz. Their life expectancy was a terribly short one, and even though I tried to keep up – it shocked me the iron bellies that some of these men had; Hunter in particular ate up a genuine storm of those Sriracha and honey glazed wings.

  When the night began to roll down a bit, everyone except for Brad – who had slipped away on business – went outside to smoke a joint. I put the sad excuse for a joint that I rolled to my lips, it wasn’t the greatest, but it was still mine. I looked to my right at Jameson and gestured with my thumb if he could give me a light. The smell of Marijuana filled the night as the rest of the guys lit up.

  The rogue strands near the back of Jameson’s unruly manbun spilled over his shoulder when he looked to me and pulled out an engraved zippo lighter. It was artfully done, with an inscription of roses and a black skull at its cap. He flicked the lighter open, and I started to shuffle myself over to him.

  I felt a pair of strong hands on me and blossoms of anxious heat attacked me. One arm sweeping at the back of my knees and another at my back; I couldn’t help the half squeal, half giggle that rolled from my throat – hearing the sound of Hunter growling with a great deal of exaggeration. “Let me go!” I mewled with joy, my preciously rolled joint nearly falling from my mouth.

  Hunter cradled me in his powerful arms and playfully spun me around, “Nope,” he said in that gravely tone, “I’ve got you now. I’m never letting go.”

  Jameson quietly smiled.

  “Put me down you asshole,” I couldn’t hide how much I was enjoying myself, even though the darkness of what happened still plagued me – it felt like Hunter was casting down this light, this light that warmed me to the bone; it made me think that maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t live in this darkness forever.

  Hunter gave me the biggest grin I’d ever seen from him. All tooth and dimple and just plain damn happiness, he was clearly pleased with himself and pleased with teasing me. An arrow of sadness p
lunged through me.

  This all couldn’t last.

  Jameson crept over beside me, towering above me from his position. He flicked the zippo to life and a quarter sized flame appeared. He lit the end of my joint, saying nothing before moving back to his spot.

  I brought my hand to the joint and pulled deep from it, letting the smoke coat my lungs – the burn filling inside of me. I blew the smoke up at Hunter’s face, “You gonna let me down now? Your arms will get tired after a while, superman.”

  “Nah,” Hunter replied coolly, “I got a better spot for you,” he said and then brought me back to the ground, before promptly ducking between my legs and shooting me upwards onto his back.

  “Whoa,” I planted my legs firmly against Hunter’s firm chest and shot my hands to his shoulders. “I can get used to this,” I admitted, “you make a good throne.”

  10

  Hunter

  I couldn’t stand feeling that damn thorn in my chest any longer; she was a bona-fide babe, and a sweet girl in every fucking respect. The moment I saw her at the nightclub, I knew that she was trouble – knew that nobody could ever steal my breath like she did.

  I loved Holly. But I wasn’t in love with her. I wasn’t ready to think that I was feeling that way about Jessica, but damn if it wasn’t something.

  This? This scared the shit out of me, and I’d lived long enough to know the pain of having a gun jammed against my skull, some banger on the other end just itching to pull that trigger. The sweat, and the thundering heart; the fear of that invisible noose just tightening around you until there’s nothing left.

  It was nothing.

  Nothing compared to the simple radiance of her smile; the lightness in her laugh that sent shivers through my spine – the pull that her lips had on my eyes, the tantalizing allure of her skin and her freckles. My cock stiffened just at the thought of seeing her breasts on display. She was an angel come to this earth, that much I knew. But I was just a demon, cursed to walk the earth and fuck every chance I’ve ever had up.

  Jessica gave me that pretty little laugh of hers. “You know I thought last night was crazy.” We were just sharing what remained of a bottle of Jack behind the counter of the bar, leaning up against its wall. If Mozz knew the things I wanted to do to this girl on his turf, he’d probably ruin his pants.

  “Last night was crazy,” I reminded her. For her it was, at least – for me? Just another night of partying. I hated to admit it, but I was getting too old for doing it every night. I was getting too old for wasting my time on people that hurt me. Wasting my time…a girl this good? I’ll just ruin her, like I ruin everything else.

  S’why my folks abandoned me. Hell I can still feel the pain in my knuckles from all those years ago where I’d punch the drywall so hard it’d scare the animals; anger just had a way of creeping into my veins, making the temples of my head pound with a need to hit something. Except the pounding need, the drums that moved my body? They weren’t so loud around her. It wasn’t so damn chaotic in my wrongly wired brain.

  It was quiet around her. Tranquil, f’that’s even the word I’m looking for.

  “Yeah,” Jessica giggled and put a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle what rolled out of it. I wished she wouldn’t do that, there’d never be a moment were I wouldn’t want to watch her lips move. “I don’t normally do that kind of stuff,” she admitted, I just kept my eyes fixed on those luscious, plump, pink lips. “This stuff, I should say. I mean, I used to—” she still had her hand covering her gorgeous face, hiding away the drunken, red blush of her cheeks.

  I brought my hand to hers, the one that was pissing me off. I pulled her hand away from her mouth, and she just looked at me funny. “Why did you do that?”

  “You were hiding,” I told her, “I don’t want you to hide anything from me. Especially not that face.”

  Jessica’s almost feline green eyes rounded slightly

  Electricity danced between us, a heat like I’ve never felt before drilling through me where our hands met. She shifted slightly, leaning towards me.

  I moved closer to Jessica and hooked my free arm around her from behind, pulling her into my embrace. She rested her head there on my shoulder, and I thought for a fleeting moment, that maybe one day I’ll drink her pain and her suffering and bottle it up, so that she’ll never have to hurt ever again. I could see it in her eyes, could feel it when I touched her that we were kindred souls – hurt and wandering the world without.

  “Can I ask you something, Hunter?” She looked up at me, her dark forest of lashes resting there just asking for me to admire them.

  I’d let you cut me open and spill out all of my secrets, if it would give me another hour with you. “Sure.”

  “Are you as bad as everyone tells me you are?” She asked, her eyes drinking in the lines of my face, “you and your club, I mean. I’ve only heard bad things.”

  It wasn’t a good idea to open up to her about this, even if we could be brazen in the way that we did things – I’d only just met her. Only just introduced her to the guys. I pushed a hard breath through my nose, “What stories did you hear?”

  “Just, you know. Things.”

  “Things. That’s brilliantly vague, sweetheart.”

  She jabbed a finger against my side, and I let out what I would hope passed as a manly yelp.

  “Just,” she paused, trying to find the right words, “tell me you’re not all that bad. Tell me that I’m not crazy, and that I can believe you guys are as cool as I think you are – that you’re not all criminals.”

  “I’d be lying if I told you we were all good. Myself? I’m not saint.”

  “So, what do you all do, then?” She swallowed and I felt her hand grip me tighter, like if she squeezed hard enough it might change my answer.

  “We’re not as bad as most,” was it the truth? Or was I just trying to fool myself. “But, someone’s got to play the part of being the bad guys. Drugs? Yeah. Guns? Limited. We do plenty of straight work with acting as muscle, helping out charities and offering up small no-bullshit loans; and you know, we work our bar and nightclub, and a shop on Caulhoon. Also where our club is.”

  Her nose twitched and the lines of her face evened out. I could tell that she wasn’t liking what she was hearing.

  Guess she’ll need more to come around. “Alright, listen here. When I was fourteen, I knew this kid. Timothy Eldridge. Real sweet kid, always wanted to help someone if they were in need – wish some of his attitude would have rubbed off on me,” I grinned and took a breath. “Anyway, I lived in Oklahoma at the time – was there for a good couple of years, probably some of the best of my life.”

  “Did your family move around a lot? My parents always fought about where we’d stay,” she said.

  “Nah, it wasn’t like that,” it wasn’t something that I liked talking about; something that I got used to closing up on and shutting people out of. But Jessica, she just…did something to me, with the way she would look at me. “I never even knew my parents,” I admitted, and the invisible weight that I seemed to always carry lifted from my shoulders, like the cool of the rain soaking away my pain.

  “That’s horrible,” Jessica whispered, a genuine concern in her inflection.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” I lied.

  “Points for trying,” she teased, “but nobody comes out from an absence of something totally alright.”

  I didn’t say anything for a moment, just tightened my embrace of this beautiful goddess of a woman. “Yeah,” I felt the burn rise like a slow smoke through my throat, “I guess not.”

  There was a noise, some shuffling type sound directly below us. Jessica immediately noticed it and looked down at the floor, and then her gaze slid over to me, “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I asked, trying to steer her away from the noise. No need for her to know about him.

  “You seriously didn’t…” she looked back down and her face scrunched up all cute like. “Never mind, I guess. Must be lo
sing it,” she laughed lightly to herself, “first missing milk, now noises. What happened with the kid?”

  I sucked in a breath. “He broke his leg one day when we were out playing like a bunch of fools in the woods. Nasty shit. Bone all jutting out of his person and such, slick with red but you can still make out the white – his screams terrified me back then. Still do, when I think back on them. He was just wailing and wailing, begging to me to help, crying the same thing over and over: My leg, my leg! Oh God. And of course, he cursed plenty too.” I took a breath, trying to banish the bloody image of Tim’s shinbone sticking out like it had.

  “They gave him meds, treated him right in the hospital – but you know, just because you fix something doesn’t mean that you didn’t break something else in the process. He wasn’t the same after that, Jess. He loved our walks; loved being with his dog, loved beating feet on the phone at night with his girlfriend at the time.” A cold shudder ran through me, and I felt a pinching sensation just behind my eyes.

  Jessica brought her hand to my face, stroking my cheek with that lovely hand.

  It hurt my throat to talk for some reason, like there was bits of glass that I couldn’t get out. “He became real depressed. Bedridden and broken, lost this huge part of himself – he wouldn’t believe me when I told him I still wanted to hang, wouldn’t take my calls when I rang and only saw me when I walked the three miles to see him, because I’d go to his house and damn well barge in there.” I pulled in some air through my nose, catching the scent of angels – my nose flaring, the taste of cinnamon and her natural beauty filling my lungs. “He started doing powder. His pupils were out of this world and he talked faster than he’d ever did since I knew the kid.”

  She knew what was coming next.

  “Well,” I said, “I warned him. I did the dance that anybody would do, for the people that we love. I tried; or at least, I convinced myself that I did. Begged him to quit, damn near got on my knees and hung my head and cried to the point of snot leaking from my nose.” The bar seemed colder, “the dealer he was getting his high from got greedy,” rivulets of anger flowed through me, and I smiled and I shook my head. “That’s all,” I said, “it wasn’t that this guy needed the money. Not that his supplier was threatening his life. Just greed, pure and simple. Tired that he didn’t have enough and life, tired of being poor,” I bobbed my head and tried to swallow away the lumps. “Cut it up with rat poisoning,” the air cracked with a fury as my fingers snapped together, “dead. Gone. Just like that.”