Twisted Scars (Comanche Sons Motorcycle Club Book 1)

by Hampton, Sophia

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  Twisted Scars copyright @ 2015 by Sophia Hampton. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

  Part 1 of Comanche Sons Motorcycle Club trilogy

  Chapter One

  Riley Tanner realized the value of hard work. She didn’t mind waiting on tables and picking up after the customers because that’s what she knew best. A woman who could earn and look after her own needs didn’t need a man to depend on, and that’s just the way she liked things to be.

  Riley was a lone ranger, and she fucking loved this life.

  As she took orders on her notepad, she kept an eye out for the new girl who was just learning the ropes. After two months in the bar, she felt like a veteran and was proud to break in the new employee. “I’ll repeat your order, sir. Three fried chickens, one beef pasta, and four beers. Would that be all?”

  The man, tanned, muscled, and bearded, winked at her. “If you’ve got something else to offer, now is the time to tell us, girl.”

  “Perhaps another day, handsome. I’m on duty right now.”

  She sashayed off to deliver the order. When she got to the counter, the new waitress was bungling her way through the process. “Where’s my order for Table Three?”

  “You never placed it,” said Ryan, who manned the bar and took the orders inside the kitchen.

  “Shit!” Jane, the newest addition to the bar, cast a desperate glance back at her table. “They’re going to kill me.”

  Riley shook her head. She didn’t have much patience, but once she’d been wet behind the ears and those days were never far from her memory. “You place the order now and give them complimentary beers.”

  “Jesus, Riley. Who’s going to pay for the beers?” said Ryan.

  “We’ll take them out of her tips,” she said. “It wouldn’t hurt to remember that we were all newbie once.”

  “You and your kind heart,” Ryan muttered, as he took the new orders inside. Riley turned to face a trembling Jane and put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you need this job?”

  Jane bit her lip, as tears swam in her eyes. “I do. I do. My son, he’s only three years old, and I’ve got to pay for his school and day care and…”

  “Then, you’ve to get this right. It’s not the most difficult job in the world. Keep calm. Take an order, deliver it here, and go back to the tables to see if anyone wants something else. Come back to pick up the order and set it on their table. Easy as pie, Jane. You’ve just got to pace yourself. Don’t be in a hurry, but you’ve got move with grace. Got it.”

  Jane nodded, looking a bit relieved. “I think so.”

  “If you’re feeling too much pressure, give me a signal and I’ll take over a couple of your tables for a few days, but you’ve got to learn to pull your weight. Johnny won’t tolerate otherwise. Ok?”

  “Sure, thanks. I can do this.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  After she trundled off, Riley took a moment to look at the tables she manned. It wasn’t a piece of cake, but with practice, one got the hang of it. Jane would learn, too. She would have to—if she wanted to do right by her son. As she turned, Riley was amazed to see Chance loom behind her. He was in and out of the bar most nights, and although their gaze met a few times, she never paid him much attention.

  Oh well, that wasn’t true. No woman could look at Chance Truman and walk away without a second glance. With his blond, short hair, greener than green eyes, and a ready smile, he was as handsome as the devil himself. She wouldn’t mind having a romp with him once or twice, but Chance was trouble. After going around the block a few times, Riley could sense when she needed to stay away from a man who was bound to complicate her life.

  She didn’t want anything that tied her down. She was a free spirit and that’s the way she liked it.

  “It was a nice lecture, pumped her up good,” Chance said.

  “Part of the job.” She shrugged and walked over to the fridge to take out four beers for her customers. Much to her surprise, he followed her. “What do you want?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just came to talk to Johnny.”

  “He’s inside.” Leaving him, she took out the bottles and walked over to deliver them to her table.

  “Hey, beautiful, want to meet up after your shift is over?” the same guy from her table asked.

  “Not tonight, handsome.” She blew him a kiss and walked back to see if her orders were ready. Chance was sitting on the stool. “Do you want something?”

  He gazed at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Actually, yes, I do.”

  His tone gave away his intention. “Not that. Sorry, it’s not on the menu.”

  He laughed, and the sound of it was so intense, so charming, that she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. The man sure knew how to get a woman’s heart racing. She could feel the slow flush of color on her cheeks, as she watched him. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking; Chance had a personality. She’d heard him speak to Johnny, the manager of the club, on a number of occasions, and he’d always been polite but firm. There was an air of authority about him that couldn’t be missed. She liked it…perhaps a tad bit too much. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to take him with her for the night, or better yet, she could go to his place. That way, when the fun was over, she would be able to march out at her convenience.

  He cocked his head to look at her—almost as if he could read her thoughts. “When’s your day off?”

  “What?”

  “I was thinking we could go out for lunch and then perhaps a walk down the harbor.”

  She blinked her eyes. “Lunch? Walk?”

  “You know…a date.”

  Riley couldn’t remember the last time a guy asked her out on a date. Sure, she jumped into bed with men whenever the urge took her, but it was wham, bam, thank you, sir for her right afterwards. She didn’t do candlelight dinners or romantic walks. Riley wasn’t interested, and most of the men she met were on the same page.

  This guy wanted lunch; he wanted a walk. Either he’d been dropped when he was an infant or there was a screw loose in his head. Either way, she didn’t want anything more to do with him. “I don’t think so. Excuse me, my order’s ready.”

  Lunch and walk? She shook her head, as she picked up her tray and waltzed over to deliver it at the table. Was he nuts? Who did these things? In her world, it was about the need of the moment. She liked a guy; he liked her; and they could spend a few hours doing a fast tango on bed. Then, it was over, and she wouldn’t have to see him again. Riley didn’t do dates. She detested dates. And she didn’t have any intention of getting sucked into that vortex of pain that dating invariably caused.

  After she delivered her order, Riley glanced at Jane who was doing slightly better. She appeared to have things under control, so Riley just gave her an encouraging wink. New people walked in and took a table, so she went over to give them the menus. Since they were regular customers, they placed an order quickly, and she came back to put it on the counter.

  Much to her surprise, Chance was still seated there, nursing a beer that he must have pulled out of the fridge. “You’ve got to pay for that,” she said.

  “I already did.” He pointed to Ryan who had sidled in to collect the new orders. “So di
d you think about my offer?”

  He was serious. Riley leaned against the counter, catching her breath, as she surveyed him. He was good-looking, so she didn’t think he was desperate for some time with a woman. Why was he hounding her? They had met many times before but he never showed an interest. What made him target her now?

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t do dates.”

  He took a swig from his bottle as he contemplated her words. “You don’t do dates? As in…you don’t date anyone.”

  “Riley’s in and Riley’s out…if you know what I mean,” said Ryan.

  “Shut up!” Riley was amused at the description. It suited her to the T. “But he’s right. I don’t like to be with men for more than a few hours, and that’s usually spent in bed. Dating, eating together, and all that crap gives me the shivers, so if you don’t mind, I would like to say no.”

  He appeared amused by her statements. “You don’t know what you’re missing. I make good conversation.”

  It was her turn to sputter out a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I heard a man say that. Usually they boast about other talents.”

  “Oh, that too. But I like to take my time getting there.”

  Yes, she could imagine that he would be good in bed. He certainly had the build to rock a woman’s world, plus those knowing eyes and soft, full lips designed to make a woman purr. She glanced down at his hands without really intending to do so and could imagine them wrapped around her curves. When she gazed up into his eyes, a knowing smile beamed on his lips. Riley didn’t mind. She shrugged. “What’s good for a goose is good enough for the gander…isn’t that how they say it?”

  “I’m all for the liberty of women, love, but an offer of lunch isn’t going to undermine your independence.”

  He was still hung up about that, and Riley had already lost interest. She didn’t want anything complicated in her life, and there was no way that she was giving in to this temptation. “Thanks, love, but I’m not interested,” she said.

  She sauntered off but could feel his eyes on her as she moved from table to table. However, she didn’t turn around to look at him. What kind of a man wanted to take a woman out? Either one who was needy or someone desperate. Good riddance! She could do way better.

  Work was brisk. The bar was usually hopping—even on weekend nights. It was owned by a biker’s club, and most of their members came in at one time of the night or another. These men were hard, and they had seen a lot of shit. Riley felt at ease with such characters, because her life hadn’t been easy. She could appreciate the problems they must have endured to get to this point. She’d also gotten to this stage after a great deal of hard work. She had a good job, stable income, and peace of mind. She wasn’t about to ruin it for a man who offered pretty words. She’d seen enough of men like that, and they were worse than guys who wanted to get into her pants. She’d done a good job turning him down. That was her final decision, and she intended to stick to it.

  When her shift was over, Riley counted out the tips, deducted the price of beers from Jane’s account, and handed her the rest of the amount. “Not bad for one night, huh?”

  Jane stared at the money. Tears swam in her eyes. “If we keep doing this well, I might be able to buy the new toy that I’ve got my eyes on for my son.”

  “Oh, we’ll do well. Just stick to the plan. Keep your chin up and those feet moving. Waitressing pays well if you’re good, and by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be better than the best.”

  “Thanks. I should go,” Jane said.

  Riley waved. “Bye, see you.” She stayed long enough to lock up the kitchen as it was her and Ryan’s turn, and then she sauntered outside. Ryan closed the doors. “You? What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Seeing Chance outside gave her a jolt. What the hell did he want? Suddenly, she was scared. Maybe what he had in mind was more than a date, or perhaps he was a serial killer. Maybe he’d targeted her to be his next victim. “Relax.” He laughed. “Since you didn’t agree to lunch, I thought I could walk you to your place.”

  “I can walk by myself. Besides, Ryan and I live nearby, and we leave together.”

  “Fine, I’ll walk with you guys.” He fell into step beside them. Even though it was late, the city was alive. There was traffic on the road, and they weren’t alone.

  He wouldn’t find it that easy to stab and hide their bodies. Shit! Why the hell did she always jump to such conclusions?

  “Nice weather, isn’t it?” Chance said.

  “It sure is,” Ryan responded and yawned. He suppressed a smile behind his hand. “I quite enjoy strolling at this time of the night.”

  Riley adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulders. “Oh, shut up, you two. Chance, you’re not going to get anywhere with me. I’m just not into hearts, and walks, and nice conversations, ok.”

  “I get it.” He nodded. “No worries.”

  “You’re just wasting your time.”

  “It’s mine to waste.”

  She ran a hand through her hair, feeling a lot more than frustrated. Why couldn’t he leave well alone? “Fine, great.” They walked in silence. When they reached her building, she hugged Ryan. “Bye, thanks,” she said to him. Then, she whirled to face Chance and said, “And as far as you’re concerned…” She lost her train of thought, as she glanced into his eyes. His gaze seared through her mind. Jesus! The man had some kind of an effect on her that she’d not experienced before. “Bye.”

  She’d expected that he would ask her out again, but he merely thrust out a hand. “Good night, Riley.”

  She shook his hand and the current of electricity that frizzled through her muscles and veins made her drop it quickly. Riley opened her mouth and then closed it. He laughed, and since she didn’t have anything to say, Riley simply turned around and walked inside. Damn the man! Why did he have to tie her into knots?

  There was something about Chance that intrigued her. Sure, she’d seen him plenty of times before, but this was the first time that she actually thought about him. She wanted to believe that she would be able to shrug off this encounter with ease, but Riley prided herself on being honest with herself; she may or may not see Chance again, but he wouldn’t ever be far from her mind from now on. The man had managed to hook her, and now it remained to be seen whether he would reel her in or let her go.

  For some strange reason, she had the nasty feeling that whatever he decided to do, she would fall in with his plans without any protest. He was just that kind of a guy—and for better or worse, she’d caught his eyes.

  Chapter Two

  He’d always noticed her, but Chance never really saw her until that night when she was kind to the new waitress. Most people didn’t take the time to train someone with kindness. She made the effort, solely because she wanted to help. Her sweet streak charmed him, but what kept him intrigued was her constant battle against a date.

  Hell! He’d dated plenty of women in his life. He didn’t have a shy bone in his body, and he plain liked women. He liked their attitude, spunk, ego issues, and obsession with dresses and shoes, but most of all he relished peeling back the layers to discover the person who was hidden behind that complicated façade. He would enjoy seeing Riley and the woman whom she really was.

  Sure, she was prickly. She’d a kickass attitude, but—more than that—he saw the hurt behind those eyes. She was someone who had seen life and knew it well. He wanted to know what made her tick, and the fact that she had said no only made the game more interesting.

  The next night, he was back in the bar. Chance enjoyed the way she handled the men without breaking into a sweat. Nothing appeared to faze her, not the whistles and winks, not the nods and nudges, and not even the constant and relentless work. She was calm, composed, and graceful. Although he didn’t take a table in her corner, Chance was aware that she wouldn’t be able to resist the lure. Sure enough, an hour later she sashayed by the bar where he’d
taken up position. He had been nursing the same bottle of beer for the past forty-five minutes and knew that she’d noticed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He held up his beer. “Just chilling.”

  Her eyes narrowed. By God, she was beautiful. He’d seen his share of women, but this one topped the list. At five feet four inches, she was a good six inches shorter than him, but her raven black hair and sparkling green eyes drew his attention. Her skin was smooth as cream and glowed with health. Her lips were full and her nose straight. If he’d been an artist, he would’ve have liked to draw her. She could be his muse. Of course, he didn’t quite know how to hold a paint brush properly, but just this once, he wished that he’d learned the art. He sure would’ve liked to capture that gleam of suspicion in her eyes and the way she tilted her head to look at him.