HWY 550 (Rock Point Book 3)

by Freya Barker

  Two seconds later a message comes back.

  Ouray: Get some sleep, Sprite.

  I wonder if he was waiting up for me.

  OURAY

  I’m surprised as fuck when a tired-looking Luna walks into the kitchen the next morning.

  “Figured you’d still be sleeping.”

  I made someone a promise, she signs, grinning at a slack-mouthed Cody, who starts pushing back from the table. Finish your breakfast first.

  “You should eat somethin’ too,” Momma says, setting a cup of coffee by the empty spot at the table.

  “Thanks, Momma, just coffee is good. I had something earlier.”

  The moment she sits down, I pull her chair closer to mine, tag her behind the neck, and plant a proper good morning on her. “That’s better,” I mumble against her lips, satisfied to see a slightly dazed look in her eyes.

  “The boy,” she whispers, her eyes flitting to Cody, who looks between us with open curiosity.

  “Nothin’ wrong with him seein’ some lovin’,” Momma declares with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Better that than fightin’.”

  “I guess.” Luna shrugs, and the two launch into a conversation about violence on TV and in games and the impact on kids. All the time she keeps tabs on me from the corner of her eye.

  After she rushed me out the door last night, I thought for sure she’d be running for the hills, which is why the last thing I expected was to see her this morning. Figured I’d have to chase her down at some point. Didn’t get much sleep myself, our conversation playing through my mind while I was waiting to hear she got home okay.

  Ready, Cody? she asks when the boy shovels down the last bite of his bacon.

  Not Cody anymore. Ouray calls me A-h-i-g-a.

  Luna glances at me with an eyebrow raised before asking the boy, What does that mean?

  He who fights, he tells her with a grin.

  It actually had been Nosh who suggested the name. Although, I’d been the first to use it last night when I found him beating the virtual crap out of a disgruntled Rowtag in some electronic game they were playing on a TV in the common room. Rowtag left in a huff. That boy’s temper hasn’t let up one bit since we brought him here. He’ll turn twenty-one in a few months and will technically be eligible for a patch, but that’s not going to happen unless he does a complete one-eighty before then. I’d hoped he would’ve shaken that boulder-sized chip on his shoulder by now, but I see another come-to-Jesus talk with the kid may be necessary.

  I follow Luna and her charge to the garage at a distance, noting instead of her skintight athletic wear, she is wearing a pair of sweats and an oversized hoodie of some thin material. She’s hiding that tight body I know is under there well.

  The boy eagerly follows directions when she tells him to pull down four of the mats we have hanging on the far wall to form a soft surface. I almost laugh out loud at the eager grin on his face when she invites him to attack her. Five attempts later, he’s not smiling anymore, frustrated when she once again lands him on his ass, this time when he comes at her from behind.

  She has his full attention now though, and he’s focused when she shows him how she managed to evade his attacks.

  “Instead of standing there gawking, why don’t you come give us a hand?” she calls out, looking at me.

  I know what’s coming; I’m being used as a guinea pig, and I’m pretty sure she won’t be as gentle with me as she is with him. “Careful with the nuts,” I whisper under my breath when I reach her. It earns me a sharp little elbow in my ribs, which Ahiga apparently thinks is hilarious, because for the first time I hear his laugh out loud.

  “You’ll recover,” Luna mocks with a grin.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, not at my age.”

  In the next five minutes, she puts me through my paces without once coming close to my package, for which I’m grateful. The boy looks on with eyes as big as saucers, taking in every single move. At some point, Nosh wandered in, cackling loudly each time my ass lands on the ground.

  “I need you to come at me from behind this time.” Determined to get the upper hand at least once, I kick off my boots and drop them at the edge of the mat. “What’s that for?” she asks, watching me.

  “Only fair,” I tell her with a shrug. “The boy can’t hear someone coming up behind him either.”

  “Fine by me. If you want, you can blindfold me too, so I don’t see your shadows.”

  I don’t have to be told twice. I pull the do-rag from my back pocket, roll it up, cover her eyes, and tie it carefully behind her head. Then I bend my head down, my mouth next to her ear, and whisper, “We play this game again, we do it without an audience and close to a fucking bed.”

  I smile at the sharp intake of breath. Taking her by the shoulders, I twirl her around a few times, before backing up just a step. I wait her out—staying perfectly still as she tilts her head first this way and then that—but when she shifts on her feet, I move.

  I’ve barely even wrapped my arm around her neck when she turns slightly, and before I can follow suit, she has her small hand firmly wrapped around my sac, exerting firm controlled pressure. Every time I move, she twists a little harder. I barely hear the loud baying coming from fucking Nosh over the roaring of blood in my veins. Fucking hell, ten minutes ago the thought of those small hands feeling me up was a fantasy, but those little fingers digging in feel more like a goddamn nightmare.

  “Uncle,” I call, lifting my hands in capitulation. She lets go, rips the bandana from her eyes, and grins wide, while I rub some blood flow back in my package.

  But her smile disappears quickly when she sees Ahiga’s face drained of blood, his eyes big on where my hand is still massaging my junk. Shit.

  It’s okay. I didn’t really hurt him. “Tell him, Ouray.”

  “Don’t think he’s worried about that, Sprite,” I tell her, removing my hand from my crotch.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Nosh backing out of the garage, I’m guessing to give the kid some space.

  Look at me. Luna, clueing in, places herself in his line of vision. When you let something scare you, you give it power—but when you challenge your fears—you take control.

  The boy’s eyes flit back and forth between us, before settling on me. Aren’t you mad? His fingers shake as he forms the words.

  No reason for me to be mad, boy. Luna wants you to know how to look after yourself. So do I. He nods, still looking unsure so I clarify. When you’re grabbed by someone bigger, you’re not strong enough to fight them off, but you can be smart enough. Like aiming for the most vulnerable spots: eyes, knees, and crotch. A man is most vulnerable between his legs.

  Suddenly anger flashes in his eyes flash, while his hands fly with choppy motions.

  Not true.

  For the second time in as many days, bile crawls up my throat, robbing me of the ability to speak.

  “Maybe not before, but now it is,” Luna says out loud, signing simultaneously, as she takes a step closer to the boy. “You’re smarter now. You can take control, but that’s not all—you have people who will protect you. I will...” She slaps a hand to her chest, before pointing it at me. “So will Ouray...Paco...Nosh, and can you imagine what Momma would do to anyone who wants to hurt you?”

  The last comment has his lips twitching.

  I think I’ve had enough for today. I can be back on Wednesday, but probably later in the afternoon or early evening. We’ll practice some more, okay?

  It takes a minute, but he eventually throws her a universal okay sign, and with just a sideways glance for me, walks out of the garage. When he’s gone I lean down, with my hands on my knees, fighting hard to hang on to my breakfast. A hand lands on my shoulder and I take in a deep breath before straightening up.

  “He’ll be okay,” she says, but her face is strained.

  “I get my hands on who did that to the boy, I’ll rip off his junk with my bare hands and shove his cock so far down his throat he’ll choke on it.�
��

  “I’m already looking,” she admits. “Trying to track down where he may have come from.”

  “You knew.”

  “I suspected.”

  “Because you recognize it?”

  My statement is met with silence. I know I’m taking a big chance, but I wait it out.

  “Probably.” Her voice is soft, barely audible, but I don’t miss a single syllable. I cup her face in my hands and lean my forehead against hers.

  “I’ll fucking do the same to him, unless you want to feed him his junk.”

  Luna’s lips move without really making a sound.

  “What was that?”

  I’m not quite sure what she said, or maybe I don’t want to know. She tells me anyway.

  “Them.”

  CHAPTER 11

  LUNA

  “Do you have a minute?”

  Jasper looks up from his laptop. He’s alone in the office when I walk in.

  “Sure.”

  “I have a favor to ask. Ouray took in this boy, he’s a street kid—troubled—I need to find out where he’s from, but I have little to go on, so it may require some creative digging. I’ve tried and reached the end of my skill set.”

  “My specialty.” He grins, stretching his fingers. “What can you tell me?”

  “The only name he’ll give us is Cody, and I’m pretty sure that’s his real name. He’s twelve, is deaf, has been on the street for a year, and says he went to school until about a year ago. He was picked up in Cortez but isn’t from there, although I have a feeling he’s not that far from home. Doesn’t know his dad, and mom died of an overdose when he was eight, and he was living with his grandparents when he took off.”

  “I assume you’ve scoured missing persons reports?”

  “Yes, I have. No luck.”

  “Do you have a picture of the kid?”

  I pull up my phone and find the covert picture I took when he was engrossed in a PlayStation game, and send it to Jasper’s email. It’s not great, only three-quarters of his face is visible and he’s looking off camera, so you don’t really see his eyes, but it’s better than nothing.

  I snapped it on Monday, after his freak-out in the garage. I didn’t stay long, telling Ouray I’d probably be bogged down at the office with the new developments in the case. He didn’t argue too hard, just said he’d be in touch. I haven’t heard a thing for the past two days, and I wonder if I’ve managed to scare him off. As much as my common sense tells me that’s a good thing, it doesn’t feel all that way.

  Our pretend relationship didn’t feel so fake from the inside. There was certainly nothing fake about the orgasm he gave me, or the physical response he seems to have to me. Too many lines are blurred—some crossed—and I should be glad for the break so I can reframe some boundaries, but instead I’m restless. So many things swirling through my mind I can barely keep track. Unsure what to do with my feelings, I shove them down, and focus instead on something concrete—like finding information on Cody so I can track down his abuser. Clearly with no success so far.

  “What’s the interest? If you don’t mind me asking?” Jasper, who was looking at Cody’s image on his screen, turns to me. I shake my head, unsure how much to tell him.

  “Kid’s had a rough go. He’s given me reason to think something happened to him. Something bad.”

  Jasper’s eyes narrow. “You don’t say.”

  “Hmm. Bad enough he’s leery of men.”

  Jasper growls deep in his chest. Bella told me a while ago Jasper grew up in the foster system himself. I hadn’t known. It’s surprising how we can trust each other with our lives in this office, but not enough to share. We all seem to be holding information back. I know I do.

  “Leave it with me,” he says under his voice when Damian walks in.

  The rest of the morning we go over every piece of evidence we have from the latest robbery. The coroner retrieved the bullet, a .45 millimeter slug, from the victim’s scapula where it had lodged. But that information is only helpful if we have a weapon to compare it to. We interviewed Amber again, but she had little to add.

  Other than Arrow’s Edge, the other MCs all seem to have left Durango in the past few days. Next stop for most of them will be the annual Golden Aspen rally in Ruidoso, New Mexico in a little over two weeks. And Damian wants me on the back of Ouray’s bike again.

  “You up for that?” he asks, challenging me. “You’ll be out of state and pretty much on your own. It’ll be even more important to look like you belong.”

  “I am, and I know.”

  “Yeah? So how come you’ve spent the past few days hanging around the office until all hours of the night, instead of securing your place with the club?” I squirm under his intense scrutiny. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed and he gentles his tone. “Luna, if this is too much, I need you to tell me.”

  I’m tempted, just for a second, but then I think of Ed Linden’s kids, of his wife, and I know I can’t walk away. Cody, Jesus. I’m already too invested in that boy to turn my back now. I refuse to linger on any thoughts of Ouray. “It won’t be a problem,” I assure him.

  “Good, then finish up any loose ends you have on your desk, hand the rest over to Dylan when he comes in, and focus all your attention on the assignment.”

  “I can’t just not go to work, that wouldn’t be credible either,” I protest.

  “Didn’t say you couldn’t check in, but within reason.”

  “So noted,” I respond less than graciously as I walk out.

  It’s near three o’clock when a soft ping announces a message on my phone.

  Ouray: The boy’s asking about you.

  The text irks me. It’s not like I would forget my promise to the boy. Annoyed, I stuff my phone in my pocket, hand over the last of my files to Dylan, and with a curt, “I’m off,” march out of the office. Ten minutes later, when I turn up Junction Creek Road, it occurs to me my irritation may be more about what Ouray doesn’t say in his message.

  “Hey.” The man himself is having a smoke out front when I pull my car next to an old pickup on the other side of the collection of bikes.

  “Hi.” I know I sound snippy, but I can’t seem to help myself. I try to slip by him but a strong arm blocks my path.

  “Haven’t seen you in two days, and that’s all you have to say to me?”

  “Could say the same thing about your damn text,” I snap back, when I notice a very curious Lusio leaning against the gate, observing us closely. Shit.

  A firm tug and I’m hauled against Ouray’s firm body. I lift up my eyes to find his face just inches from mine.

  “Christ, you can be a pain in the ass, Sprite. Would’a kept you here on Monday, but I thought you needed some space. A couple of hours, a night, but not two fucking days without a word.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  The semi-grunt is closely followed by a thorough kiss to hammer his point home. By the time I come up for air, I can’t even remember what got me so worked up in the first place. I put a hand on his chest and look up at him.

  “How’s Cody doing?”

  “Momma says he still shoves the chair in front of his door, this morning he voluntarily started talking to me. Progress in my books.”

  “It is,” I confirm, disengaging myself from his hold. “I promised him some time in your gym, if you don’t mind?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve gotta ask? You gonna stick around after?”

  There’s a whole lot more to that question than just face value, but I answer in the same casual manner. “Planning to.”

  The faint tug at the corner of his mouth shows that pleases him, and my step is a bit lighter when I make my way inside to find my grasshopper.

  OURAY

  “You’re the best, Momma.”

  She grumbles when I kiss her cheek, still not happy that I’m planning to feed Luna at my place, a job she’d like to lay claim to. She did pack a couple of servings of the massive apple
crisp she made this afternoon.

  “Tell that boy to wash before showin’ up for dinner,” she calls after me when I go in search of Luna.

  I’m stuffing the dessert in my saddlebags when Lusio ambles up beside me.

  “Feisty, that one,” he says, looking over at the garage. “May wanna have a gander. Rowtag just wandered in there and I think she’s going off on him.”

  Dammit, I can hear the raised voices now. Rushing over, I just catch the cub taunting her to take a swing at him. Stupid cocky fuck.

  “Don’t think you wanna take that on, boy,” I say calmly approaching him from behind. He swings around at the sound of my voice. “She wiped the mat with me and I’m twice your size.”

  “The bitch owes me a rematch.” He sounds almost petulant, and I wonder where we went wrong with this one.

  Over the past years, a few of the kids we’ve taken in have stayed on to become part of the MC. Others have gone off to college, and some ended up enlisting with the armed forces. No matter their story, their age, or their path, they all came here as boys—and left as men.

  I’m not sure why Rowtag is different, but I’m starting to doubt there’s a man to be found in him. He’s still very much the angry teenager he was when he first came here.

  “You don’t talk about my woman—or any woman for that matter—like that. I’ve never taken a hand to you, boy, but you’re this fucking close to getting your ass handed to you. You better change your attitude right a-fucking-way, or you’ll not only never get that patch you’ve been gagging for, but I’ll personally strip you from that leather vest and toss your skinny behind on the other side of that fence.”

  I never take my eyes off him, and never raise my voice, calmly staring him down as I hear affirming grunts from a few brothers who have come in behind me. It’s not until after he stalks out, pushing past me with a furious scowl on his face, that I turn my attention to Luna.

  Wide-stanced, hands on her hips, and her chin high, she looks like a five foot tall warrior woman. Sexy as fuck. All the more so when I notice she’s been shielding the boy behind her.

  You okay?