“I don’t like loose ends.”
“Do you trust that I’m not a criminal mastermind organising a kidnapping?”
His reaction isn’t what I expect. I expect him to laugh or answer in a negative and produce handcuffs. Instead he says softly, “Sadly, I do.”
“Sad?” It’s at that moment I realise he looks defeated, as if all the wind’s been taken out of his sails.
What did he expect to find? Me up to my neck in conspiracy and extortion? I’d laugh if it wasn’t so serious.
“Well, now you’ve got your answer, I presume you’ll be on your way.” He’s not like Weston, he’s far too in control of himself. But that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with him being in my house. Like Weston, he makes the place seem small. Though in Weston’s case it was his bulk, Jeremiah is just larger than life.
If I wasn’t sore, hurting and, once again, as he’d predicted, hungry, I’d appreciate him as a man. But not for me. I suspect it would take a very experienced woman to handle Jeremiah Briggs, and not a shy, unassuming nurse such as myself.
I’ve been sneaking surreptitious glances at him, and now I find he’s looking directly at me. As if he can read my mind, his lips curve in a smirk.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Well,” yes. “Ungrateful as it sounds as you did rescue me, I’m safe now. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“No reason?” He looks surprised. “Woman, you’ve been chained, starved. You’re dehydrated and scared. I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone. For a start, you’ll need help around here until your wrist is better. I’m staying.”
I can’t work out why, nor know what my reaction is. On one hand, being alone will give me nightmares, but having him stay could make them worse. “You don’t need to. I’ll manage.” It’s me who’s been looking after others for a long time now. First as a nurse to the general public, and then to a patient of one. No one’s looked after me since I was a child. “And even if I do, why should it be you?”
“You got a support network?” he asks. “A man to come in and help?”
“I don’t need help.” I do, but I’m not going to admit it.
“I’m staying.” He gets up and starts to walk away, but after a second comes back. He stands awkwardly, as if uncertain, his hands rake back through his hair. As he comes to a decision, he leans forward. “If you really want me to leave, I’ll go.”
He’s made an abrupt U-turn. Now he’s given me the choice, perversely I don’t know what I want. He’s the man who saved me. I’d lost consciousness, I know that. If the rats had started eating me alive, I couldn’t have fought them off. I would have died if he hadn’t found me. The way he’s treated me since has been nothing but gentlemanly.
He hasn’t behaved as a threat toward me.
Glancing outside, I see the world growing dark. I shudder, knowing I’m going to be scared to sleep, knowing I’ll feel rats crawling all over me. Crazy as it sounds, I’d rather a stranger stay than be on my own.
If he’d looked at me with any sexual intent, if he’d copped a feel while he was dressing me, maybe I wouldn’t be of the same opinion, but just as I thought, he was too much man for me. Not once has he indicated such an interest in any way. Not that I’d expect him to, he’d go for a different type of woman to me.
“Well, do you want me to leave?”
I attempt a smile, my first of today, and many days past. It feels rusty as though it’s forced. “Did you say something about steak?”
I don’t think he’d been expecting that. His lips curve and he snorts a laugh. “I did indeed.”
16
Stormy…
I’d planned to stay, had been prepared to use my powers of persuasion, but when she told me about Tiny, I knew I had to distance myself from anything that fucker had done. So I took a chance and gave her the opportunity to kick me out. She didn’t take it.
If you asked, I’d be unable to explain what drives me to want to be here in this rundown farmhouse in Kentucky. Sure, she needs help, but normally I’d leave someone else to provide it. Hell, I could have employed professional help if there’d been no one else. My desire to be close isn’t because I’m horny for her. She’d been naked in my arms and my dick didn’t so much as twitch.
She intrigues me though. There have been flashes of the mythical red-headed temper which is probably more down to her, and nothing to do with the colour of her hair. Still, it fits. I grin to myself—she’s like a kitten spitting at a lion when she brings out those claws. If I need to stay low for a while, I’ve an idea that here, with her, I won’t get bored.
That I don’t want to bed her actually takes off some of the pressure, giving me no reason to pretend to be something I’m not. With her, I can be myself—not that I’m completely sure who that is anymore. Finn Palmer who had his dreams stolen? A SEAL whose country comes first? A Devil with my pack behind me, or, just a man who needs to rediscover himself.
Fuck knows.
Later that night while Cat is resting watching some inane program on television, I get out my laptop, hacking into the booking website and deleting all records of the reservation she’d made. Having done so, a sense of relaxation comes over me. No trail now leads to her, or to me. I’m safe here.
My grand plan to return a hero holds no water now. What could I offer but a lame statement that all loose ends have been tied? Maybe I’d be given some kudos for using my absence to work for the club, but it was yet another trip not sanctioned. The result wouldn’t be enough to stop me from being sent out bad.
Before I close my laptop down, I take a deep breath. Isn’t it better to know? Before I have second thoughts, I hack into the systems, easily diving under layers of security, some of which I’d set up myself. Rascal’s the treasurer, come secretary. While he takes only brief notes of the main decisions in church, something like me being declared out bad would be a major event to record. With shaking hands, I look through the minutes. Sure, I’m mentioned, but only with a reference to the search having started in earnest. For now, it seems they count me as part of the club.
It means I have time. But how much? There’s no doubt their patience is finite. If I return, I’ll have to throw myself on their mercy, which isn’t like any version of Finn Palmer I know.
If I’m going to lose my patch, would I prefer to do it on my own terms? Just simply never go back?
It’s a question I lock in a box at the back of my mind, and as each day passes, I take it out to examine less frequently. I become comfortable here. I become comfortable with her.
I get the impression that it’s no bother for Cat having me here. I’d go so far as to say she enjoys the company. A week goes by, and my excuse she needs help becomes less relevant as her wrist improves, only giving her slight twinges now. The rings where the cuffs have bit in are fading, but she doesn’t raise the subject of when I’m going to go.
I’d summed up her situation quickly. She needs to leave this mausoleum and start a new life, but her past is like an anchor dragging her down. I don’t pretend to understand, blood family was a shackle I shrugged off long ago, but it matters to her. While she’s waiting for the impetus to move on, I’ll do what I can to make things easier for her. I’m not selfless, more self-serving. All the little jobs I find are keeping me occupied and giving her a reason to keep me around.
Another week passes. She often has a smile on her face and good food is putting some weight back on her slender frame. I begin looking at her with fresh eyes. Yesterday, when she bent down to look in the fridge, the sight of her heart shaped ass actually got my cock swelling. Down, boy, I’d told myself. Don’t fuck this up now. It’s not her I want, I’ve just not been laid for a while, and she’s just a convenient hole. If I’m going to continue my peaceful interlude from life, I can’t rock the boat.
“I’ve fixed the fence.” Walking inside, I take a bottle of water out of the fridge, and hold it against my forehead. It’s a warm day and I’ve been w
orking hard. “I noticed a few shingles loose on the roof while I was out there. I’ll get those done.” I pause, realising I’m fucked as to how to collect new ones. My bike is great for getting from A to B, and for picking up a couple of days’ worth of groceries, but no good for carting heavy shit around. The asshole Tiny had stolen her truck, and until now, finding it had been pushed to the back of my mind. Without transportation, she’s dependent on me, which shows just how much I’m invested in hanging around.
“Just remember I didn’t ask you to do any of this.” Cat points her spatula at me with one of her easy smiles, and a flash of her brilliant green eyes.
“I know. But I’m here…” I shrug. This place has lacked a man’s touch for a while now. I walk over to the stove and lean in. Something smells good. At least I’m getting fed well. “I’ll go wash up.” After we’ve eaten I’ll get down to what I already should have been doing. But hell, it’s been a breath of fresh air just concentrating on menial tasks and not doing anything that requires my brain working. I don’t think I’ve had space like this since I was a child, maybe not since my mom upped and walked out.
She’s still working her magic, tossing ingredients into a pot when I exit the shower. I watch her for a moment, relishing the fluidity in the way that she moves. My cock twitches, but I turn quickly away. She’s not for me. She’s not a one-night stand type of woman, and I’m not a hang around kind of man.
While I’m here though, I can be useful. Returning to the living room, I take my laptop out of my saddlebags and plug it in. The battery has run out, it’s been that long since I used it. I wait until it’s got enough charge to work, then cast my own spells, hacking again into the servers of the Satan’s Devils MC back in Utah. I’m fully confident they’ll never know that I’ve commandeered some of their resources.
First, I get into the database of the vehicle licensing department. She said she’d registered it in her name after his death, so I used that and the results of a casual enquiry about her birthdate. Those gave me the details of the truck I was seeking. It’s an older Ford 150—that’s a surprise, not what I expected.
Of course I could have just asked her, but if Tiny had taken the truck to Utah, I’d have to think carefully about how or whether I could retrieve it. I’m not ready to go back to my brothers just yet and showing my face in the state where they’re based could lead them to me.
First, I narrow the search based on what Cat had told me, and what I already know. Tiny left here in the evening and ended up in Utah a day later. Either he had pedal to the metal all the way, or, he used another method. I go for the latter first and hack into the security cameras in the long-term parking at the airport.
It’s there.
I get into their system and soon have the receipt for the truck downloaded onto my phone. It’s already overdue for pickup. Her proof of ownership might have been sufficient for her to claim it, but this way we’ll be in and out fast with no questions asked. We’ll pay the extra few days parking, and she’ll have her transport back with no one any the wiser.
Tiny no longer exists in this world, he won’t be returning to claim it. Thank fuck. As always when I think on how I found her, my gut clenches with rage. If I hadn’t come calling, her body would be rotting in the cellar.
If her cousin had lived, would he have come back to save her? He might if he could have been identified as the last person to have seen her—they’d eaten out that night. But he could well have toyed with the idea of just leaving her. A bully like him would probably enjoy thinking of her being tortured by those fucking rats. I tell her none of that though, not wanting her to dwell on the evil in the world.
Job done, I lean my head back. Cat’s a good woman, and not weak at all, she’s strong. She had to be to survive relatively unscathed from what her cousin had done to her, the only reminder she’s not out the other side yet are those nightmares she still has. I don’t think she’s aware of how often I sneak into her room to soothe her, only retreating once she’s in an easier sleep.
One of my first jobs had been to get rid of all the evidence of her imprisonment. Cat isn’t going down to the cellar anytime soon. Strong woman or not, no one could blame her for that.
“Five minutes, Jeremiah.”
“I’ll be there,” I call back.
I glance around the room I’m sitting in, once again struck by how the furnishings bind it to the past. Outside shows its age as well, and I’d quickly realised the task of keeping this place running is more than a one-woman job. It’s a money pit in fact.
I’ve been helping her do it up, not just to make her life easier, but hoping I can drop some hints she’s better off listing it on the market. Why does a single woman need a house this size? Not when the land’s been sold off, and she’s no viable income from it. The hens don’t lay enough eggs for her to bring in more than a few dollars. And that horse is ancient, just living out his days in comfort.
I’ve heard the legend, if you save a life, you become responsible for it. Perhaps that’s why I’m invested in her moving on. Sure, she’s got happy memories here, but she can’t live off those, especially not with Tiny’s taint on them.
I don’t deny the charm of the old farmhouse, just as I can’t deny hers. Perhaps if things were different—if I were a different man—I’d stay around.
Linking my hands behind my head, I picture the disused barn. It would be a great place to restore motorcycles.
Vigorously, I shake my head, trying to clear those thoughts from it. I’m a soldier in need of a war, not a goddamn homemaker and mechanic. The best I could do is become a mercenary for hire, and I doubt Cat would think much of it.
My place is with the Satan’s Devils MC, isn’t it? While I have the laptop out, I frown, then delve back into the Utah servers again. There’s another mention of me in the minutes.
Three months.
They’ve given me three months. Thirteen weeks. I’ll be out bad if I’m not back by the time limit they’ve set.
They’re actually generous, I wouldn’t have given myself three hours. Still, at least I have a time frame. It’s up to me what I do with it.
Tomorrow, we’ll go get her truck. I’ll sort her roof tiles out and when that task’s done, I’ll head off into the sunset. I’ve been here too long.
I need to find a woman to sink my cock into before it decides Cat’s irresistible. There are limits to my self-control, and while I’d never force myself on her, I’ve caught little glances, odd smiles, and at times her face reddens for no reason that suggest if I turned on the charm, I’ve little doubt she’d respond. I think too much of her to take advantage.
Three months. Even if I stayed, my time with her is limited. That’s if I want to reclaim my life.
Tomorrow’s going to be interesting. To get to the airport, she’ll have to ride on the back of my bike. That, in itself, doesn’t worry me. I know some of my brothers are dead set against having anyone but their old lady riding behind them, but I’ve never subscribed to that notion, never expecting to land a woman of my own, and seeing my passenger seat as just a convenient mode of transport. Not that I’ve had anyone riding behind me before, but nah, I have nothing against the idea of it.
Except, this is Cat. Her breasts up against me, her arms around my waist? That could be one of the limits to my self-control I was just thinking about.
It really is time that I should go. I can’t offer her a future, and she’d want nothing else.
“Dinner’s ready!”
“Coming.”
There’s a formal table and six chairs in the dining room, but since the first night we’ve fallen into the routine of just using the stools at the counter. Cat knows her way about the kitchen and seems to enjoy cooking. I’m happy to eat whatever she serves up. She could rival Cowboy in some of her dishes, and her chili tonight is no exception. I don’t feel guilty leaving the meal preparation to her. I’ll clean up after, and work to my strengths getting the exterior of the house in order.
/> When I tell her I’ve found her truck and we can collect it the next day, she sighs with relief. “I thought that was gone.”
“If it was, you could claim it on the insurance.”
“I’d have had to have told them Weston had taken it, and as I can’t contact him…”
I grimace. Yeah, that would have opened a can of worms. The Satan’s Devils hadn’t left any evidence of Tiny being in Utah, but a plane ticket would link him to that state. My brothers would prefer not to have attention brought to his disappearance. Now I’m glad I found the truck for more than one reason.
“You’ve told me no one else would contact me about the booking, but I’m still worried.” Her lips press together. “Even if I don’t have to worry about Weston, what if he’s got friends who try to find him? If they knew he was here, they might come calling.”
As far as I know, his friends, or more accurately accomplices, are dead. I doubt she’s got reason to worry. But, what if she’s right? Could I view staying here as providing protection? At least for the next couple of months before I have to make a decision.
Sure. A bodyguard with fantasies of getting into her bed. I sigh, unwilling to tempt the limits of my resistance.
Sometimes I wonder how I’d have treated her had I turned up to find her unharmed. Would I have suspected her of protecting her cousin? Probably. But the cards fell as they had, and the thought of anyone hurting her doesn’t settle at all with me.
Should I go before I cause her pain, or stay and risk the consequences?
Replete with food, and with a beer in my hand, I settle back uncharacteristically and join her in watching a quiz on television. Arrogant, I’m certain I’ll know more answers than her, but she surprises me with general knowledge that surpasses my own. When she yawns and says she’ll go to bed, I say goodnight, assure her I’ll lock up, and wait for her to finish in the bathroom before I go to the guest bedroom.
I’ve never not worked since I left home, except for that brief spell of unemployment when ejected from the SEALs, but even then I’d been searching for jobs suitable for a disgraced man. These past couple of weeks I’ve been content to let the world turn on its own, having no desire to look for trouble or even go searching for shit on the dark web. It’s a vacation, I tell myself. And, like any vacation, I’ll end up getting bored. But not just yet.
Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah Page 18
