CONVICT: A Dark Romance (Sin City Salvation Book 2)

by A. Zavarelli

  In the end, I decided not to turn around. Regret made me bitter, and she was right. I did hate her.

  MY PHONE RANG FOR THE second time in a row, piercing my concentration as I fiddled around beneath the hood of a big rig that was already overdue for service. Normally, I wouldn’t give two fucks who was calling me when I was in the middle of a shift unless it was Lucian or something going down at the compound. But this time, Trouble’s name flashed across the caller ID, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled.

  When I left her there, I knew the situation wasn’t going to go over all that well, but I figured it was best to get it over with. Trouble could usually handle just about anything I threw her way, including Birdie. The two of them had formed a friendship of sorts over the last year, and I hoped that wouldn’t change just because of a little road bump. But when I picked up the phone, my gut told me I might have been wrong about that.

  “What is it?” I grunted.

  “She escaped.” Trouble sounded breathless, and the line crackled like the wind was blowing into the speaker.

  “Impossible.” I shook my head, even as I was reaching for my keys. “The house is locked down.”

  “Well, it looks like she found a way out anyway,” Trouble explained. “She shattered the bathroom window and climbed out. I’m not even sure how long she’s been gone because she had music blasting.”

  “Her bathroom window?” I squinted as I slung a leg over the hog. “There’s no way she could fit through that. Are you sure she didn’t just trick you?”

  “What do you mean?” The breath whooshed from Trouble’s voice as she spoke as if she’d stopped abruptly.

  “She probably broke the fucking window and then hid, waiting for you to leave the house so she could walk right out after you.”

  The silence on the other end of the line confirmed that Trouble hadn’t checked the house before she left.

  “Shit,” she murmured. “I’ll go back there now.”

  “How long have you been gone?”

  “Twenty minutes or so,” she huffed.

  “Go back to the house and make sure she isn’t there. Keep an eye out for her along the way and call Kodiak to let him know.”

  “I already did,” she assured me. “Every eye in the compound is on the lookout.”

  “All right, I’m on my way.”

  I hung up the phone with an impatience I didn’t recognize and gunned it out of the parking lot. This girl was out running around in the fucking desert, thinking she was going to find a way out of the compound when most likely she was going to find a whole lot of trouble instead.

  The dark thoughts I often struggled to keep at bay wandered back to the forefront of my mind as I considered all the possibilities. There were snakes and scorpions and spiders in the desert. What if she was allergic? What if she’d been bitten and couldn’t move? Or what if she fell trying to navigate the difficult terrain on the northern side of the compound?

  The possibilities piled up as I drove, boiling my blood and whitening my knuckles. Goddamn Birdie fucking Blue. It had been years since I felt so helpless. Everything was fine until she came into the picture and rattled a fault line into the infrastructure of my life. Again, I questioned why I ever agreed to it. But then I knew why. Lucian and Gypsy asked me. It was just that simple.

  I didn’t have it in me to tell them no. Not when it came to her. For over a year, I’d dissected Birdie’s every move in an effort to understand her, and in the process, she burrowed her way inside my head, contaminating all my thoughts. Now she was in my space. My lungs. On my flesh. I breathed her in, I felt her everywhere. Her scent, her silky skin, her butterscotch hair. She was driving me goddamned crazy, and it had only been a day. One motherfucking day.

  As I pulled into the compound, I knew what I had to do. I had to cart her ass back to Lucian and tell him it couldn’t be done. I couldn’t have her around me. It was the only way.

  Kodiak greeted me at the entrance, his lips tilted up in a smirk he tried to hide when he saw the expression on my face. “Some of the guys have eyes on her. She’s over by the warehouse, up on the north ridge. She stopped moving about ten minutes ago, so we’re not really sure what the hell she’s doing up there.”

  “Thanks, brother.” I nodded.

  He gestured me through the gates, and I leaned forward, accelerating in the direction that Kodiak had pointed me. He couldn’t know it, but his words only confirmed my worst fears. She must have been injured. It was the only logical conclusion.

  The warehouse sat at the back of the compound, nestled into a slab of concrete protected by thick adobe walls and the rocky terrain behind it. The landscape was dotted with cactuses and red rock formations, and we’d chosen it specifically for that reason. Anyone who wanted to come at our supply would have to do it through the front gates. Most people with a lick of common sense wouldn’t attempt to scale those ridges, but most people weren’t Birdie. She was reckless and impulsive, and this incident only served as proof of that.

  When I pulled to a stop, I saw her plain as day, squatting on a rock in an orange skirt and a scrap of fabric she’d call a tank top. It wasn’t immediately obvious from where I sat if she was injured, but she stayed put as I climbed toward her. The late afternoon sun bathed her silhouette in an earthy glow, highlighting the long tan legs stretched out in front of her. Against the terra cotta landscape of the desert, she was a mirage. A goddess on fire. For a split second, I paused just to take it all in. Birdie wasn’t of this world, and I didn’t need any other evidence of that than this moment. Her beauty was hypnotic in a way that could only be compared to myths and legends.

  She squinted into the bright light of day and met my gaze. Her escape hadn’t taken her very far, and it was evident she hadn’t planned it out. The gold sandals wrapped around her feet weren’t built for climbing, and the proof was in the torn leather strap on her left foot.

  “Are you injured?” I asked.

  Her lip quivered, and she turned away, refusing to acknowledge me. Internally, my concerns amplified as I fought to maintain control. Birdie didn’t show her emotions easily. Something had happened, and her silence was the trigger to the loaded cocktail of fears only she could manage to induce.

  “Get your ass up, or I’m going to carry you down myself,” I demanded.

  She climbed to her feet; electric blue eyes boring into me as she crossed her arms. My gaze swept over her, seeking out signs that confirmed or allayed my suspicions. From what I could tell, she was in one piece, and I should have been happy with that, but my mood didn’t improve.

  I gestured for her to move, and she did. Beside her, I remained tense, ready to catch her if she fell. The journey down the ridge was uneventful, and Birdie still hadn’t said a word when I tucked her onto the back of my bike and instructed her to hold on. I stewed the whole fucking five-minute ride home. Her silence was more abrasive than her defiance, and I couldn’t figure out why. The only reaction I managed to squeeze from her was when I escorted her inside the house and slammed the door behind us. She flinched as she finally turned to look at me, but my eyes were on Trouble.

  “Out.”

  Trouble knew better than to say a word as she made a beeline out of the house. The moment she was gone, Birdie tried to walk away too, but this wasn’t even close to being over. Caving into my urges, I reached out and fisted a handful of her hair, forcing her to stop abruptly. When she turned and saw the inferno in my eyes, hers widened. Her breasts swelled as she drew in a deep breath, and the bulk of my blood traveled south, engorging my cock so severely I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to bend her over and fuck her until she wouldn’t think twice about running off on me again, but that wasn’t on the table. It couldn’t ever be on the fucking table.

  Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my fingers around her jaw as I stepped into her space and leaned down to growl into her ear. “Surrender, Birdie. I fucking own you now.”

  The statement came out of nowhere, an
d I didn’t recognize the ferocity in my tone. When Birdie looked up at me, her breath blew across my throat as she exhaled, and my eyes drifted to her lips. So soft and full and venomous. I imagined for a second what it would be like to taste them. I’d never had a need to kiss a woman before. Kissing was for lovers, and I was a taker. But right now, I wanted to know her taste. I wanted to breathe her in as our lips burned with the fire of this undeniable heat between us.

  Twenty minutes ago, I was dead set on taking her back to Lucian and Gypsy. But now, in my presence, there was no way I could let her go.

  “You’ve been following me,” she accused as she attempted to pull away. “Inserting people into my life. Do you even realize how fucked up that is?”

  Her voice betrayed a pain that ran deeper than I ever could have known. I’d never seen Birdie display such fragility, and it wrecked me. I wasn’t prepared to deal with her emotions, so I didn’t even know where to begin. Physically, I could take care of her. The basic needs she required as a human were easy to meet. But everything else was a purgatory I didn’t know how to navigate.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked her again as I examined her. It was all I could offer as solace.

  Tiny red welts had started to form on her ankles where the sand had pelted her skin as she walked. And along her calves, several new cuts had appeared. She’d been with me for twenty-four hours, and already, she looked like she’d been to the depths of hell.

  “I fell into a cactus.” Her voice wavered as she turned away. “There are needles stuck in my back.”

  I released my hold on her and turned her in my arms. Sure enough, red, inflamed welts dotted her lower back, prickled with spines from the cactus.

  “Son of a bitch.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen it. Some of the guys from the club had met the same fate over the course of my years on the property. But they weren’t as delicate as Birdie. I closed my eyes, and a vision of the cold, lifeless face from my past resurfaced. I couldn’t save that girl. She was long past dead, and it was all my fault. But Birdie was a different story. I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if it meant she would hate me for it. Before I could even think about it, I was punching numbers into my phone as she turned to meet my gaze.

  “What are you doing?” Her brows pinched together.

  I turned away, already regretting what I was about to do. “Getting you some help.”

  ACE DISAPPEARED DOWN THE HALL, mumbling into the phone before he returned a few seconds later, his face unreadable.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “Sit down.” He pointed at the sofa. “I’ll grab some shit to clean up your legs.”

  “They’re fine.” I stared at him as if he were from another planet. “It’s just a few scrapes.”

  “They need to be cleaned,” he grunted. “Don’t argue.”

  He left me to follow his orders while he disappeared to rummage through the medicine cabinet. I didn’t get what the big deal was. He acted like it was a medical emergency every time something remotely small happened. Though there had to be a reason for his odd behavior, I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

  When he returned, I was sitting upright on the sofa, which was about all I could manage in my current state. I’d neglected to tell him that I also had needles embedded into the skin beneath my waistband. I couldn’t lift my legs onto the coffee table or lean back without driving them deeper, so I wasn’t quite sure how this would work. But he seemed to consider my position, hesitating for only a second before he wordlessly knelt at my feet and began his work with unwavering focus.

  He cleaned each wound with exhaustive care, inspecting them several times over to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Maybe it was the way his mechanical mind worked, but no man had ever kneeled before me to tend to my wounds. Men had only ever seen me as something to take and use, but Ace treated me as if I were still salvageable. His large calloused fingers glided over my skin with the same reverence he held for his bike. I wanted to unravel the meaning behind that, but before I could, he’d finished.

  Apparently satisfied with his work, he removed a joint from his pocket and parked beside me on the sofa. His large frame indented the cushion and dipped me closer to the heat of his body. My eyes strayed to his lips as he took a few puffs and then offered the joint to me. When I hesitated, his eyebrow arched.

  “It helps the pain,” he said.

  “Will it put me to sleep?”

  He shook his head, a wisp of smoke leaving his mouth. “Different blend.”

  Trust was a refuge I’d never known, but at that moment, I realized I trusted him. In the time that I’d known him, he’d kidnapped me, annoyed me, and foiled my plans on more than one occasion, but he’d never lied to me.

  I took the joint from his fingers and rested it against my lips, taking small drags just as he’d taught me. Our eyes locked as the smoke curled between us, and I studied the golden amber of his irises as a dreamlike calm washed over me. It often felt like he could hypnotize me with those eyes, and in a moment of paranoia, I wondered if that was what he was doing. Part of me wanted to resist and look away, but I couldn’t. Some other ethereal power possessed me to lean in and hold the joint up to his lips, proffering more of the medicine he needed. The question on my mind was why did he need it?

  He took a drag, his eyes never leaving mine. This must have been what intimacy felt like. Sharing the balm that could heal both of our hurts. I should have been the first to break away, but Ace beat me to it. He plucked the burning paper from my fingers and snuffed it out, just like the memory of this moment between us. The gatekeepers of my heart battened down for a war on the horizon as he stood and diverted his attention away from me.

  “Come on.” He fished the keys from his pocket. “We need to get to the clubhouse and get those spines out of your skin.”

  What awaited me at the clubhouse was uncertain, but right then, I didn’t care. The weed had soaked into my veins and warmed my blood, so pain didn’t exist anymore. The needles were a part of me, just like all the broken pieces I’d glued back together over the years. My body was boneless as I stood and joined him at the door, the dilemma of right and wrong forgotten as his gaze slipped briefly to the valley between my breasts. My tongue darted out to wet my lips as my eyes drifted over his powerful frame. Forget the Beards of War. He was a god of war. And I was a mere mortal unequipped with the powers to resist such human temptations.

  Between his legs, another muscle bulged against the seam of his faded blue jeans. The girth outlined by the denim was bigger than any other I’d ever seen, and my imagination ran wild with it. He was uncomfortably hard, and it showed. This was the undeniable evidence that proved he wasn’t immune to me. Our eyes collided again as I swallowed, and for three long seconds, the earth stood still. I didn’t know exactly what it was I wanted from him, but I wanted it with the fire of a thousand suns. Nothing about these foreign feelings made sense to me, but I was grateful when Ace broke the spell between us by opening the door and gesturing for me to go outside.

  Once we were in the drive, a new debate seemed to emerge as his eyes moved back and forth between the Harley and his truck. When he glanced back at me, I knew he was factoring me in. It shouldn’t have pleased me as much as it did. But I was in his head, and I wanted more of these moments. I wanted him to factor me into everything, the way nobody ever had before.

  “I’m all right to walk,” I assured him. The clubhouse wasn’t too far away, and I could manage even with the needles in my back.

  He nodded, and we set off down the street into the direction of the fading sun. A quiet stillness had settled over us, and I didn’t feel the need to fill it, but I couldn’t sate my curiosity any longer.

  “What’s in the warehouse?” I asked.

  He gave me a sideways glance. “What do you think is in the warehouse?”

  I already knew, but I wanted to hear it from him. When I came upon it earlier, it didn’t
take long to deduce what the smell was.

  “I’m guessing it’s weed,” I answered. “A lot of fucking weed.”

  The corner of his lip curled, probably the closest thing to a smile I’d ever seen from him. “You guessed right.”

  “So you guys grow it? That’s the club business?”

  “The club business isn’t your business,” he grunted.

  I rolled my eyes. “Like I’m going to blab to anyone. You have me trapped here, remember?”

  “It isn’t about that.” Ace turned to me, his expression serious. “You just seem to be a magnet for trouble, and I don’t want you getting wrapped up in the club life.”

  Whatever that meant, I didn’t know. But his words re-opened the wound that triggered this entire chain of events. “Why did you ask Trouble to insert herself into my life?”

  “Don’t be too hard on her,” he answered. “She was just doing her job.”

  His response didn’t answer my question, but I’d come to expect that from Ace. He was loyal to his friends, and apparently, that included Trouble. He wouldn’t throw her under the bus, and if I tried to argue the ethics of what they’d done, he’d be quick to point out my own shortcomings in that arena. If there was one thing I knew by now, it was that Ace didn’t bother to sugarcoat anything. If he even bothered to speak to you at all, he’d tell you what he thought point blank.

  We arrived at the clubhouse in just under five minutes, and it appeared that every motorcycle in the compound was lined up out front. The entrance door was propped open, the sound of laughter and rock music floating out into the evening air. Ace led me inside with the quiet confidence of a man who knew he belonged here while I staggered along beside him.

  The interior was about what I expected, dotted with well-used furniture and pool tables throughout the space. Along the back wall, Ace’s club brethren drank beer and talked shop at the bar. I wasn’t entirely certain of his motives for bringing me here until we reached a separate corridor at the back of the building. This area was set up like a hotel with rooms along either side of the hall. Some were closed while others remained open, and it didn’t take long to figure out what they were used for.