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Time Owed

Page 18

by Debra Kayn


  He used the ride back to Federal to shut down the adrenaline rush. To survive the aftermath of taking someone's life, he pushed away the second guesses, the morose, and the reality of snuffing the life out of another man who tried his best to survive in an unforgiving world.

  Only the strong lived to see another day. Weakness would only get him killed.

  The sun slipped below the mountain peak. He rode onto the off-ramp at exit sixty-two and continued under the viaduct, and straight down Main Street.

  The rumble of his bike cut the quiet of the street, drawing looks from the tourists walking along the sidewalk enjoying the beauty in the Silver Valley. He turned left at the bar, rode around the building, and backed in to the parking spot beside Desi's Jeep. The low following a high left him anxious to see her and pacify his worries.

  To avoid falling back on thinking about what he'd done, he needed something to bring back the adrenaline and keep him riding the high.

  Jacko rode on, parking down on the next block behind Cleo's Coffee Cave where Jacko would go up into the apartment and drink the night away. Merk stood on the sidewalk watching his MC brother, envious of how Jacko drank to forget, to numb, to escape.

  He grabbed his duffel and pushed through the backdoor of the bar, surprised to find the place unlocked. Inside, he removed the pistol from his boot, removed his gloves, and shoved everything deep into his bag. A quick inspection of his body for blood splatter and finding none, he climbed the stairs to the main floor of the bar.

  The sight in front of him brought him to a stop.

  Desi, on her hands and knees in the middle of the room, talked with Bear and Johnson, who squatted beside her. Merk tilted his head, taking in her round ass pointed right at him. The way she captivated Bear and Johnson's attention and distracted them of their duty, the whole fucking group of Reds could've busted in the place and no one would've noticed.

  "It works perfectly." Desi straightened her upper body and sank her ass on her heels. "Saturday night will draw the biggest crowd. Wednesdays will bring customers out during the week without interrupting Silver Girls or the other bars around town. I'll still take off Sundays and Mondays. At least until we find out if this will work and then I can go from there."

  "I can work Saturdays until seven, unless something with the club comes up early." Johnson hesitated only a second before giving Desi the high five she offered him. "Between me and Bear, that'll cover you."

  "I'm going to ask Jacko, too. He's great at making the drinks and I think women will feel comfortable with him bartending. He's a charmer and the women enjoy the attention. So, it'll be you three dividing the time and picking how you'll work together. I don't mind working on Saturday nights, so everyone can attend the Moroad parties. If you have club business to handle that's okay, too. We'll all make it work." Desi bounced on her knees. "This feels really good."

  The low of coming off a killing sizzled into anger. What the fuck had she done all day while he was gone?

  "If it all works out the way I think it will, I'll have enough to pay off my debts from repairing the bar," said Desi.

  Debts? He paid the contractors and gave her money for new furniture. What part of him taking care of her had she not understood?

  The newly installed front door swung open and Merk's nephew strolled in. He stepped back against the wall, out of Jeremy's line of vision.

  "Hey, Lola told me to stop by and talk to Desiree." Jeremy walked up to the group and looked at the floor. "What's going on?"

  "Oh, good, she gave you my message." Desi pushed herself off the floor and stood. "You're nineteen years old, right?"

  "Yeah." Jeremy scratched the back of his head.

  Desi's smile grew, lighting up eyes he'd watched dim following Joe's death and his claiming her. "Perfect. I need someone to work with the bartender on Wednesday nights. How would you like a job?"

  Hell, no, Jeremy wasn't going to work at Rail Point. Merk strode forward. "Find someone else."

  Desi's shoulders rounded inward and she frowned at Merk. Jeremy's gaze narrowed and his lips went to the side, the same expression his sister used to throw at him whenever she wanted her own way.

  "But, he's perfect for what—"

  "He doesn't need a job." Merk glanced down at a large piece of paper with writing and squares drawn on it. "None of us need a job."

  "Yeah, well, I'm up for earning a few extra bucks." Jeremy raised his brows at Merk. "Like I said, I'm nineteen. If I want to work, I'm going to work."

  Desi glanced between Merk and Jeremy. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

  "You think?" Merk's grip on his duffel bag tightened.

  "My time is my own. If you want to pay me, I'll work. I have Wednesdays open." Jeremy challenged Merk to stop him.

  Not in the mood to play games between Jeremy and Desi, he walked away from everyone, grabbed a whiskey off the counter, and continued to the stairs.

  "Shit. Somebody needs to grab the bottle from him," said Bear.

  Merk ignored the comment and escaped to Desi's apartment. He sat on the couch, bottle between his legs, and wondered how it was possible to come back after one fucking day and know he wasn't the reason Desi smiled.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Desiree put her ear to the door. Silence came from within, or maybe the wooden door blocked all sound. She wouldn't know, considering she'd never had to listen in to her apartment before.

  Once Merk walked out of the bar carrying one of her whiskey bottles, she'd hustled everyone out, locked the new door, the back door, and decided Merk needed to explain himself. She refused to have a drunk living with her.

  She opened the door and came up short. Merk sat on the couch, staring at her. The bottle of alcohol between his legs still had the top on. She stepped inside and sat down on the chair opposite the couch.

  She shoved her clasped hands between her thighs. "Are you drinking?"

  "Not yet." He lifted the bottle, exhaled loudly, and set it on the coffee table.

  "I wish you wouldn't."

  "Why? Did Bear tell you I black out if I drink or I end up hurting others after tipping back a few? Did Johnson explain how I won't stop until I can't remember what happened ten minutes ago or that I have crimes sitting on my back that makes everyone think twice about trusting me?" His mouth hardened and his voice had grown dangerously low. "It's all true, so if you have any doubts, believe it."

  She looked away from his pain-filled gaze. He'd gone away for the day and came back angry. Though she questioned him, his frustration and bitterness wasn't aimed at her.

  "You're a better and stronger man without the booze." She waited for him to blow up at her and when he remained quiet, she forged on. "I deal with customers who drink every day and they go home to become someone else's problem, but I lived with my father who drank. Nothing good ever came from his drinking. I lost all respect and love toward him, because alcohol became more important than his own daughter."

  Merk grunted and looked away from her. "I get that. I watched my own parents do the same, and that still doesn't stop the urge to drink. With one drink, I can forget."

  Encouraged because he hadn't taken a drink tonight when he obviously craved one, she wanted to help him with whatever was bothering him. "What happened today?"

  Merk shook his head. "It's over."

  "What's over?"

  Merk stood and walked away from the bottle. She slowly let out her breath and stayed in the chair. She'd never seen him agitated to the point his movements became jerky. His hands trembled at his sides. His body, stiff and slow, flinched every time she spoke.

  She'd seen the same behavior in her dad before Pop rushed her away and kept her entertained upstairs out of the way of her dad's wrath. Many times, Pop wasn't fast enough or the customer's drew his attention away from her. Then she'd experience the solid existence of those shaky hands.

  Since she'd known Merk, he only let himself drink once. He'd left her and drank away the fact she'd discovered the truth a
bout him. A pang of understanding hit her low in the belly. While she wouldn't take the blame for his addiction, Merk's obvious tribute to his connection with her rang true. She hadn't noticed his struggle with drinking, because he'd refrained around her. Her attention centered on her own emotional rollercoaster and made her blind to how Merk dealt with his desire to drink while around her.

  She sat back in her chair and tilted her head to one side as she looked at him, trying to understand what would bother him when he'd taken the day to do club business. Empathy swelled inside of her, and she rubbed her arms. Her time alone and discovering a way to build up business at the bar made her realize everything Merk had done for her and how he continued to support her. During the break from him, she understood her own feelings better. He was still the man who became her hero when he'd helped her escape the basement and stay safe from the bad men, despite the ugly way he returned to her.

  He'd pressured, threatened, and used her gambling against her, because he couldn't afford to have her reject him. And, she would've if he'd told her the truth at the beginning.

  In some ways, what he'd done to connect with her made a bigger statement. While unconventional and wrong, he believed he only had certain options open to him. She was over her head with Pop's death, the worry over Reds, and her feelings toward Merk. He was right. She needed him and wanted to accept his help.

  Her heart failed to distinguish right from wrong, even when her head battled against her. She could only go off how he made her feel.

  He wasn't playing her. He feared losing her and acted on instinct, going on how he'd lived and survived his entire life.

  She stood and walked over to the window, to Merk, and laid her hand on his arm. His body vibrated under her hand. Her resolve melted away. They were two damaged people who shared a circumstance in each of their lives that shaped them each in different ways. She'd pushed him away when all she wanted was to have him back, holding her, telling her he'd stay.

  She leaned against his back, molding her body against his. "What can I do?"

  The cords on his back bulged as his forehead fell against the window. "Keep me from losing you."

  "I'm right here." She wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He turned as if she'd granted him permission to have everything he'd ever wanted. Her lips parted to tell him they'd work out an arrangement that would please both of them, and he pressed jarringly hard against her, making it impossible to speak.

  Swept off her feet, he walked her backward to the couch. He fell with her, kissing and touching her all over. She wiggled her hand between their bodies and cupped the hard length of his growing arousal.

  The dam of emotions she'd held inside of her burst. She stroked him hard, greedily, wanting to please him. Nothing about tonight was about her. She wanted to comfort him the way he'd helped her.

  His mouth opened and he thrust his tongue, dueling with her. She absorbed the guttural groan from his chest. Her heart raced and she widened her legs.

  He trailed a path down her chin, her neck, and her chest with his mouth. She arched, wiggling farther onto the couch.

  His lips feathered their way between the buttons of her shirt, and then he pulled back ripping her shirt open, and unlatched her bra. Lowering his head back down, he caught her gaze. A shock jolted through her, warmed, and encompassed her. He'd opened himself up again and she could see the man who'd stolen her heart as a child. The man she trusted. The man she wanted to stay with her.

  He softly licked her nipple.

  "Merk?"

  His head snapped up. Alert and tense, he stopped all movements. Her heart broke. In his eyes, she recognized fear.

  "Desi..." He swallowed. "Don't make me stop."

  She caressed his face. "I won't. I need to take off my jeans."

  His gaze warmed. "Right."

  He stood and helped her off with her clothes. She lay naked and watched him peel his layers off his body. First his vest, then his shirt, his belt, his jeans, until he bared himself to her.

  His pectoral muscles twitched. She moistened her lips taking in the sight of him. Tall, hard, and solid, not a soft part on him, including his cock.

  "Keep looking." He bent over, braced his hands on each side of her head, and lowered his bottom half down between her legs.

  His breathing deepened. She trailed her hands over his chest. The power and virility emanating from him would make her obey everything he demanded of her.

  "I looked at you even when I was mad and thought I hated you." She closed her eyes an extra beat and contained her emotions. "You make it impossible to look away."

  He went down to his elbows, sinking his fingers into her hair and holding her perfectly still. "All I need is you."

  He gave her enough to push away her hurt. She kissed him softly. "You have me."

  Nudging the inside of her thigh, he spread her legs and settled his bulk on her. His cock nudged her entrance. She stifled a moan.

  "Do you like that," he whispered.

  God, she loved that.

  His jaw tightened and he pushed in slowly. Inch by excruciating inch, claiming her in ways she failed to grasp, but understood without question deep inside of her. Nothing kept them apart. Her soul open for him, she stared into ice blue eyes that were her undoing.

  One last push and their pelvic bones met. Unmoving, she held on to him and savored the low throb of him filling her completely.

  His gaze locked on to her.

  The urge to rock built a slow fire inside of her. She pulsed around him.

  He groaned, dropping his forehead to hers. "We have twelve years together, and you're slowly killing me, Desi."

  His voice full of wonder, she accepted the change, grasped on to his words, and believed him.

  His mouth slid to her lips. His tongue delved deep, caressing her. Her willpower snapped. She wanted him to own her, to make her his property, to once again hold her close to him and never let her go.

  She rocked against the couch. He inhaled harshly and withdrew, plunged, and rode her with a skill that sang to her.

  "Don't stop." She nipped at his shoulder. "Please, don't stop."

  He reached down, grabbed underneath her thigh, and brought her leg high, spreading her wider. Her hands landed on his ass, digging in, keeping him in her.

  The need to come ached throughout her. Strung tight, she boldly thrust against him. Every stroke of his cock sent her higher and higher.

  She clung to him. Legs around his hips. Arms around his neck. Hands fisted in his hair. Ankles locked. She'd never lose him. She handed over her vulnerability and trust, exposing her weakness—him.

  His gaze drilled into hers. He remained silent. Words were not necessary.

  He drove into her. Her stomach spiraled with each thrust.

  "I came back," he said on a grunt.

  She panted. "Never leave me again."

  Deep inside of her a ripple grew, and grew, and grew. Her toes curled and out of nowhere, her release came, spiraling down on her, bowing her back. She exploded, giving him everything she'd held back from him.

  Merk's jaw dropped and he plunged into her and held himself still. She witnessed the calm of the storm in his face, felt his shudder in her soul, and held him tight.

  Exhausted and spent, she let Merk roll her to the back of the couch cushion on her side, and laid her head on his hot chest. His heart raced beneath her ear. In what seemed like forever, she fell asleep with the knowledge she was safe.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  The activities escalated in the bar after lunch. Merk set the glass cleaner on the floor beside Desi's sneakers, patted her ass to get her attention, and received a smile before going back to help Bear put together the last few tables.

  The optimism and abundance of energy from Desi today left him believing she'd accepted his explanations and curbed her questions for the time being. He put the Phillips tip on the screw gun. She'd listened and accepted his reasons for being with her. Her attitude disappear
ed last night and she hadn't forced him to talk over his feelings.

  She'd handled his low coming off killing two Reds members and brought him around to a level of managing and excusing his responsibilities. He'd focused on her and settled her down. In return, she gave him support that surprisingly calmed him. He didn't need to get drunk to forget. He wanted to stay aware, ride the emotions Desi brought out in him.

  Because he'd grown to predict her varying moods, he kept a tighter watch on her. The smile on her face might fool everyone else, but Desi's mind never shut off. Even with her elbow deep in cleaning, the Moroad members invading her business, and her excited over getting the bar running, she never stopped thinking and overthinking.

  "Why don't you go get her and take a break," muttered Bear.

  "Who? Desi?" He picked up two screws.

  "Yeah, that's who I'm talking about. I've put three tables together by myself and you haven't even finished one." Bear glanced at him and his bushy beard moved at the corner of his hidden mouth. "I don't know what happened between you two last night, but the girls got it bad. I haven't seen her in this good of a mood in...well, never, since I haven't known her long. But she's different today than she was yesterday."

  "Maybe you should work instead of watching what goes on between my woman and me." Merk screwed the leg into the top of the table.

  Finishing the renovations on the bar was the last thing on his mind.

  Every time the damn door opened and more Moroad members came to help put the bar together after having the windows installed this morning, his gut tightened. He expected the sheriff to stroll in and arrest him for killing the two Reds members.

  With him locked back up, Desi's protection would dwindle to a weekly check-in by the club. She'd receive most of his income from the extortion, but nobody would be in her bed, protecting her ass.

  It took him a long time and he'd worked hard to get in the position where he had his cock between her legs, her focus on him, and had her believing in half of the story he gave her. He wasn't going to give all that up easily.

 

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