by Naomi West
It had been tempting. His body had hurt like hell, and his strength had almost been gone. But he had felt weak enough as Flame and Stubble had beat him, and he did have his pride. “I’ve ridden in worse conditions. I’ll be fine.” Torque had forgotten just how much of his body it required to ride a motorcycle. Once he’d made it back home, he had decided he would get in bed and never come out of it again.
For the most part, that had been true. Acer, the club’s president, had sent a club girl up with his meals three times a day. Nobody bothered him about going out on rides or doing any business. Only Acer knew all the details of what had really happened, but all the members knew he’d been involved with the Dirty Bastards. The tension in the converted firehouse was thick as Satan Seed thought about revenge.
Torque, however, could only really think about what it would be like to have his body functional again. Rat’s men had beaten him badly, and it probably hadn’t helped to have sex right afterwards. But he didn’t regret that part. Blue was the only other thing on his mind besides getting better again. She haunted his dreams with her strands of pale blue hair and her cobalt eyes, the scent of her body and the softness of her skin. Blue was a small woman with an innocent look about her, but she had ridden him with the confidence and ease of an experienced woman. She was like an image from a fantasy world, the kind of thing that couldn’t possibly be real.
She was the one reason he’d thought about getting up and facing the world again. He wanted to head back to Spencer’s Shop, to make sure she was all right and that the Dirty Bastards hadn’t been harassing them again. But he was in no shape to defend her with his broken ribs and bruised lungs. Blue might have enjoyed his body that night, but he was too stiff and sore to be anything close to sexy. At the very least, he wasn’t going to let her see him in that state again.
Still, he thought of her as he stretched his fingers back and ran them against the exposed brick wall behind his bed. He imagined what it would be like to have her on top of him, here in the clubhouse, riding him like she had in that tattoo chair. Torque would gladly take her in the middle of the afternoon, with the sun slanting in through the big windows and her blue hair bright against the white stamped tin of the ceiling. God, what he would give to get a hold of those breasts again, to dig his thumbs into her hipbones, to feel her sweet softness surrounding him. If the other men of the club had any idea what he’d had, they’d be so jealous.
And if he had his way, he wouldn’t stop at just another quickie like they’d had before. He’d bend her over the bed and do her from behind, or lay her on the thick rug and grind his hips into her, or lift her so that he held her with her legs wrapped around his waist. He wanted to put his mouth on every square inch of her body, to take his time exploring it and making it his. It had been a shame, really, that their fling had been so brief.
And he had convinced himself that it was just a fling. She’d been caught up in the moment of being saved by him. Blue didn’t really want a guy like him, and why should she? Blue had made it clear that she didn’t need another biker in her life; they had only hurt her before and she was convinced that a man like him would do it again. She was probably right. He was used to a life of freedom, without worrying about what some woman wanted from him.
For a brief moment, though, he let his mind flick over to the thought of having something real with her. Torque had always been on his own. Even though he was part of one of the biggest motorcycle clubs in southern California, he’d never really felt as though he had a family. Even his parents, when they had still been around, had only had a distant role in his upbringing. He was on his own with a bunch of other people who were on their own as well. What might it be like to settle down with a girl like Blue? To know that she would come home to him every night, that they would do things as a couple like going out to eat or sleeping in on Saturdays. He could wake up in the morning and roll over to wrap his arm around her naked form. Torque would pull her close and ...
No, he couldn’t think like that. Blue might as well be a figment of his imagination.
The bedroom door swung open and Acer walked slowly in, his boots thumping against the hardwood floor. “It doesn’t matter how long you lie there, no woman is going to come to your bed just because you’re in it.”
Torque grinned, glad to feel that his teeth no longer seemed loose and his lips didn’t bleed every time he moved them. “Wouldn’t that be the life?”
Acer pushed up his sleeves, exposing the King and Queen of Hearts tattoos on each of his forearms. “What do you mean? It already is for me. I just lie back and let the women flock to me.” He put his arms out on either side of him.
“Paid club girls don’t count. What do you want, anyway?”
“What I want,” Acer said, “is for you to get out of this goddamn bed and come downstairs. I know you were hurt, but you’ve been milking this thing for way too long. It’s time to get up and face the world again.” He glared down at Torque, his gaunt face serious.
Acer wasn’t the biggest man in the club, but the members took him seriously. Like Torque, he had been committed to the life of a biker since he was a kid. But his commitment had been a different one, serious and businesslike, that had allowed him to quickly move up in the ranks of Satan Seed and take over the presidency when the previous leader died.
“Must be important if you came for me yourself.” Torque pushed himself up on his elbows and forced his body into a sitting position on the side of the bed. His head reeled and his muscles were tight. It was hard to breathe with gravity pushing down on him again. Maybe he really had been in bed too long.
“It is. Go get a shower and wash your smelly ass, and then come downstairs and find me. We need to talk.” Acer stomped out of the room, the chain from his wallet jangling, and closed the door behind him.
The hot water over his body felt good, even on his scabs and the remains of his bruises. His mind flashed back to that night at Blue’s house, when he had used her shower. It had seemed strange to step into a stranger’s bathroom, especially one full of girly soaps and lotions. But he had needed to wash the blood off his body, and even the stream of water hadn’t stopped him from thinking about the way Blue’s body had felt in his arms when he had carried her.
Torque could have stood under the showerhead forever, but he knew Acer was waiting on him. He dressed and came out into the upper hallway, skipping the firepole that had been left when the place was converted to a clubhouse. He regretted his decision as his muscles complained all the way down the stairs. His knees and back were tight, making something he had always taken for granted seem like a challenge. At least the pole would have been faster.
Acer was behind the bar. It was a custom job in solid oak and stained a deep red-brown, made to look as though it had come straight out of an old-fashioned pub in Ireland. The wall behind it had been painted black and hung with framed prints of pin-ups, vintage cars, and beer advertisements. The scattering of tables that surrounded the bar were empty. Music played faintly through the private bar, and the scent of coffee filled the air.
“Busy place today,” Torque remarked as he limped up to the bar and pulled himself onto a stool. “Whatcha got for me?”
“A big pot of black coffee.” The president filled a large mug and pushed it across the bar. “Drink it down quick, and I’ll pour another one.”
“Things must be more serious that I thought.” Torque tossed back half the mug, feeling it burn a little on the way down. “I know they’re called coffee grounds, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to use actual dirt, man. Your coffee always tastes like mud.”
“Does the job, though, doesn’t it?” Acer poured himself a mug and took a sip. He reached behind him for the sugar dispenser and sent a fountain of the white powder into the drink. “I need you awake and sober so we can talk about this business with the Dirty Bastards.”
Torque ran a hand over his face and sighed. Acer had made him hash out the details almost as soon as he had returne
d from Spencer’s. It had been almost embarrassing, even though the president had no critical words for him. Torque wasn’t interested in talking about it anymore. “I told you everything. What more is there to know?”
“I just have to be certain,” Acer explained. “War with a rival gang is a serious and dirty business. It’s not the kind of thing I like to enter into lightly. We’ll have some good stories to tell, but we’ll lose some men while we’re at it. I’d be much happier if we could just carry on with our own business and not have to worry about it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”
Frowning, Torque took another slug of the black liquid and set the mug down on the wooden surface. Maybe he hadn’t quite heard right. “So we’re looking at war now? I don’t know that it’s worth it. I mean, the incident with Rat and his men was a mess, and I’d be happy to get a little revenge on him, but I don’t want it to get that big.” He couldn’t help but think of Blue. She didn’t like the biker life, and a war with another clan was about as biker as it got. Her opinion shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did even though she wasn’t there to hear what was going on. Most of all, he didn’t want her to get mixed up in this. She had played a big enough role already.
Acer shook his head and looked down in his mug as he swished his drink around. “It already is. There was a shootout downtown last night.”
Torque lifted his eyes from his mug and let the brew slide slowly down his throat. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“I’m not. I don’t know yet if it was Rat who started it or if it was someone else, but the fact remains that the Bastards shot at us. Of course, we retaliated, but you and I both know things don’t just stop there. To make matters worse, a cop was caught in the crossfire and killed. I don’t even know if it was one of us or one of the Bastards who shot him, but the fact remains that he’s dead. We’ve got one hell of a mess on our hands, and we can’t just let it go.”
Torque felt hollow. He had spent too long letting himself recover and imagining that his problems didn’t really exist. Ignoring Rat wasn’t going to make him go away, and he had a solid feeling that he had been the one to start the conflict by confronting Rat in the first place at the tattoo shop. The Bastard had only been temporarily satisfied by the beating, and it made sense that he would go after other members of Satan Seed. “So what’s the plan?”
“There’s not much of one, right now,” Acer admitted. “Everyone is recovering from last night. I’ve got a couple of men upstairs with bullet wounds. They’ll heal, but it’ll take some time. I don’t want any other innocents to get caught up in this, so I’d like to just be prepared for the moment. When everyone has gotten some rest, we’ll get together and come up with a solid plan from there.”
Innocents. Like Blue. “What do you need from me?”
“Mostly? I just need you to heal up and be all right again so you’re back in the game.” Acer raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Think you can do that?”
“Trust me. I’m already on it.” Torque chugged down the last of his coffee and stood up before Acer could pour any more.
It felt good to be back on his bike again. He’d let his defeat by the Bastards get the best of him, and he only hoped it hadn’t been too much of a mistake. He rumbled out onto the street and hung a left to get to the right part of town. If Blue was at work, then he needed to find her and get her to safety. The Bastards were on the warpath, and it was likely she would be involved sooner or later. He’d never forgive himself if they’d already gotten to her.
As he pulled up in front of Spencer’s Shop, his heart sank down into his stomach. The lights in her booth were off, and there was no sign of her little blue car in the parking lot. Still, he burst through the front door.
“Torque!” Spencer said with surprise, looking up from his scheduling book. “I haven’t seen you around here in quite some time. Are you ready for some more work?” His eyes immediately went to the faint bruising that still haloed Torque’s eye, but he didn’t ask about it.
“Where’s Blue?” he demanded.
The shop owner jumped back a little, caught off-guard by his tone. “Well, at home, I guess. She took the day off today. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
Rat knew how to find her at the shop, so it might have been safer for Blue not to be at work, but Torque was only slightly relieved to hear this news. It didn’t take much to figure out a person’s home address. If he got to her there, the chances of anyone hearing the altercation and coming to her rescue were slim. “If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”
“Has she done something wrong?” Spencer asked as the door closed.
Torque zoomed off down the side street that led to the little blue house. It sat snugly on the corner, tucked back behind several shade trees that kept the street lights from shining fully on her small front yard. They glowed dimly off the paint of her car in the driveway, giving him some hope, but he hammered on the door for five minutes without a response. He pounded until his fists hurt, holding his breath in between rounds to listen for any sign of life inside.
“Blue! If you’re in there, I need you to come out! Right now! It’s important!” He stalked off around the side of the house, attempting to look in the windows. If she was hiding from him, then she could give up the childish act right now. There wasn’t time for games. He had to get her and convince her to leave town before things blew up. He didn’t know where she would go; he only knew she had to leave. But most of the curtains were drawn, and the only room he could see into was an unoccupied laundry room, a basket of neatly folded laundry sitting on the washer.
Growling with frustration, he took off again. He never should have left things as they were with Blue. At the very least, he should have gotten her phone number. But he had known where she lived and where she worked, and since she didn’t want to have anything to do with a biker there hadn’t seemed to be a need for it. Why would she even answer his call? Still, there had to be some way of tracking her down. If Rat had gotten to her first, well, he didn’t want to think about it.
Chapter Nine
Blue
Blue stared at her feet as they moved along the sidewalk, pausing to look up only when it was time to cross a street. Even then, she watched the passing traffic with a distant numbness, as though none of this was actually real.
Pregnant. The test she had picked up at the pharmacy that morning had confirmed it. Blue had stood in her bathroom, the same bathroom where Torque had showered, and stared at the little lines of the plastic stick for a solid minute before she finally understood what she was seeing. She’d called in, unsure of what else to do. She went back and forth between feeling dizzy and weak to feeling alive and energetic. She alternated between lying on the couch and cleaning the house. If that was just a hint as to what pregnancy would do to her, then she was going to be miserable for the next nine months.
Somehow, taking a walk had seemed like a good idea at first. She didn’t want to be at the shop, and she didn’t want to be at home. Blue just needed to clear her head, maybe think of nothing for a while, and then figure out what she was going to do. There was no doubt that she would keep the child, but there were other decisions to make. Should she track Torque down and tell him, or would it be best to raise the baby on her own? Would he be angry? Would he demand that she get rid of it because he wasn’t interested in being tied down? Should she go ahead and tell Spencer? It would give him ample time to get a guest artist in for her maternity leave, but she didn’t want him to fuss over her. Nor did she want to hear a lecture about getting involved with her clients.
Blue would have to figure out daycare arrangements. God, were daycares even open as late as she worked? Spencer’s wife had quit tattooing once she had the baby; was that the reason? Then she had to wonder whether or not she would have enough room at her house for a baby or if she was going to move, and just how the hell she was going to take care of a child at all. Her mother had practically let Blue raise herself, bu
t she knew that wasn’t the right way to do it. There had to be a better way, but she didn’t know what it was. Why had she been so stupid?
Blue passed the park, dark and almost spooky in the night. Most of the street lamps on this block were out, leaving the jungle gym as nothing more than a skeletal shadow amongst the trees. She paused, imagining herself here as a mother with her child. She would watch as her youngster ran across the wood chips, calling out for her to watch, and attempting to climb the ladder to the monkey bars. Of course, Blue would have to help him, because he wouldn’t be able to do it himself yet. She would laugh and pick him up, holding his little body in the air while he pretended to swing from one bar to the next.
It was a nice thought, but one that would have been nicer if she knew she wasn’t going to be the only one doing the work. Mother hadn’t been able to do it alone, and Blue wanted a more stable childhood for her baby than she had ever had. But a biker father would only leave. No, it would be best if Torque never knew. He would never have the chance to run away from a responsibility he didn’t want. Blue wouldn’t need to schedule visitations or tell Torque to stop arguing with her in front of the baby. Maybe life as a single mother wouldn’t be so bad.
