Crux Untamed

by Tillie Cole

  “Ooh, darlin’.” I licked my lips and dismounted too. “Spanking my ass? That can be arranged.” She raised her eyebrow at me. “What?” I said, mock shocked. “I’ve clearly just told you I’m into kink.” Sia grabbed Triumph’s reins and put the horses out to pasture. By the time everything on the ranch was done, night had fallen and I was fucking starving.

  I turned to Sia. “I can see why you like it here, cher.”

  She panned her eyes around the ranch. “Yeah. It’s my haven.”

  “Unlike the club.”

  She narrowed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m just bitter about certain aspects of the club, Cowboy. Of course I don’t hate it. Just . . . sometimes I wish I wasn’t Elysia Willis, you know? You chose this life. I was born into it. And even then, I wasn’t allowed to be fully ‘in’ it.” She looked away.

  “Deep down I knew you didn’t hate us,” I said. She looked up at me. “Kinda hard to think you hate bikers and the world we live in when you go and name your stallion Triumph.”

  Sia’s mouth opened and closed, finding no fucking words. When she walked past me, clearly in a fucking huff, I smiled. Bitch didn’t hate bikers at all. She loved Styx and Ky; I’d seen her with them. And she liked me, I knew it. And Hush, she found fascinating. She hated her poppa. That was it.

  But then, from what I’d heard of the old VP, who fucking wouldn’t?

  *****

  Hush came into the house as Sia was making food. He looked down at me making myself real fucking comfortable on the couch, hands behind my head and my legs kicked up onto the arm. “Hush.” I lowered an arm to tap my Stetson. “All good?”

  Hush nodded. His eyes found Sia. She was looking at him from her place at the stove. “Hey, Hush.” She pointed at the food. “Food’s almost done.”

  “I ain’t hungry,” he announced, and Sia’s smile quickly fell.

  I stood up and took hold of his arm. “You need to eat.” I glared into his eyes. He knew why I was saying that, and I was fucking right. He went to argue, but he had no fucking argument to give.

  Instead he glanced at Sia and said, “Merci.”

  I pointed at the table, and Hush sat down. He ran his hand over his stubbled cheeks. Sia placed a glass of water before him. “Thank you,” he muttered, before draining the glass.

  Sia placed the steak and beans before us and sat down herself. “Looks good, cher,” I said, rubbing my hands together. Hush started digging in.

  “So,” Sia said, looking right at Hush. “How did the bike run?”

  Hush swallowed. “It’s a good bike.”

  The brother didn’t say shit-all else. I rolled my eyes, and then grinned at Sia. “He rides well now, cher, but you should have seen him when he first tried.” Hush’s blue eyes fixed on mine. His jaw tensed. I gave zero fucks.

  “What happened?” Sia looked relieved that I was fucking talking.

  I sat back in my seat. “Me and Hush got shitfaced one night. We were eighteen and walking around New Orleans.” I left out the fact that we were living on the streets. Hush would kill me if I dared include any of that shit. His eyes flared as he glared at me, my warning to keep the fucking story simple. I slapped my hand down on his shoulder. “We walked past a biker bar, and Hush here, drunk as fuck on whiskey”—I tilted my head to one side—“or was it Slippery Nipples?”

  “Asshole,” Hush said, shaking his head. Sia was smiling. I guessed more at the fact that Hush had finally opened his fucking mouth around her than at my joke.

  “Fine, whiskey. Anyway, he saw a row of bikes out front. Thinking, in his inebriated state, that an old Harley he was obsessed with would be good to ride, he went straight over to it. The keys were still in the ignition.” I flashed a grin at Hush. “Should have been our first sign not to take it. The bike had keys in the ignition but it was untouched.”

  “Whose was it?” Sia asked.

  I held up my hand for her to wait to find that out. “Hush here backs it out of the parking spot and then kicks it to start.” I started laughing my ass off. “He only made it about twenty yards before he lost control and smashed that fucker into the road.” Hush finished the last of his steak and sat back in his seat. He kept his eyes on the tabletop as I continued talking. Sia kept her eyes on him. I watched them both. “I ran to where he was getting off the ground, then the doors of the bar slammed open and a mass of brothers in cuts came barreling out.”

  “The New Orleans Hangmen?” Sia asked.

  “The very same.” I saw Hush’s lip lift at the corner, obviously remembering that day. “Turned out the bike belonged to Ox, the old prez.” I shook my head at the memory. “But Hush here, instead of being intimidated, got to his feet and went toe to toe with Ox, who was about to kill us.”

  “And you?” Sia asked.

  I went to reply, but Hush said, “He stood beside me. Ready to fight too.”

  I shrugged. “Couldn’t leave my brother to be killed. Figured getting killed by a biker would be a fucking cool-ass way to go out.” Hush smirked. “But then Ox looked down at us, filthy and fucking filled with arrogance, and laughed. Hush swung, cracked the old man across the jaw . . . and two hours later we were the newest prospects of the New Orleans chapter. Ox gave us a home. A purpose. A fucking life.” I laughed, chest tightening at the memory of those days. “Owe him everything.”

  Sia was smiling big at the story. “I love that,” Sia said. Hush lowered his eyes and got to his feet.

  “Thanks for dinner.” He put his plate in the sink and left the room.

  I watched him go. I tipped my head back in frustration. “He’ll come around,” I reassured Sia as she got up to put away the dishes.

  I waited at the table until she was done, checking in by text with Styx and Ky. When Sia started shutting off the lights, I walked her to her bedroom door. She looked up at me and swallowed. “Night, Cowboy. Thanks for helping today.”

  “Not a problem, darlin’.” I shuffled closer. “I had fun.” Sia nodded, her chest falling hard with each breath as I stepped closer still. I could feel the warmth from her body pushing against mine. “I get to see you practice barrel racing tomorrow, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I got a rodeo in a few weeks. I gotta train if I’m gonna keep my top spot.” I smiled, already fucking hard at the thought of seeing her in diamond-encrusted jeans, flying around those fucking barrels, Stetson on her wild curly hair. Her chin tipped up. “As long as I get to see you train one of my broncs.”

  “Oh . . . you can count on it.”

  Sia smiled, and unable to fucking resist, I dipped my head down and put my thumb and finger on her chin. She sucked in a breath as I kissed the side of her mouth. “Bonne nuit, cher,” I whispered against her soft skin, dragging my nose up her cheek. Then I backed away to my door.

  Sia stared after me for a few moments before quickly ducking into her room. I groaned, my head tilting against our bedroom door. Finally pulling my shit together, I turned the doorknob to the room Hush and I were sharing. I had only just shut the door when Hush said, “Ky will fucking murder you if he knows you’re doing this shit.”

  Brother had heard everything.

  “Shut the fuck up, Val. We’ve wanted her for a fucking age. Don’t pretend that shit ain’t true.” I grabbed my dick through my jeans. “I’m just not a pussy, afraid to go after what I want.”

  In the light coming in through a split in the curtains, I could see my brother lying on his stomach in bed. His shirt and jeans were gone. My eyes fell to the fucking tattoo on his back, the one that tried to cover the burn that always would be there. The ink did its best to meld the mark into the design. But all I ever fucking saw was that damn mark.

  Hush sat up. I shed my shirt and jeans and climbed into the bed beside him. He glared down at me. “Enjoy your ride?” He spoke in Cajun French again. I knew it was so Sia wouldn’t know what was being said if she overheard.

  “Yeah. Felt real fucking good to be back in the saddle.”

  Hush slumped back
down to the bed. “Sure it did. Help you reminisce about the good old days, did it?”

  “Fuck off, Val. I ain’t gonna let you come at me just because you’re pissed you weren’t out with us.”

  “I was checking the perimeter.”

  “All afternoon?”

  “They could come at any time.”

  “Styx and Ky got brothers up and down the way here every day checking for anything suspicious. You’re fucking avoiding her.” Hush was quiet. “She reminds me of you.”

  Hush tensed beside me. I rolled onto my back and looked at him from the side of my eye.

  Hush stared back. I knew he wanted to know what I meant, but it took my brother a real long fucking time to grit his teeth and relent. “How so?”

  I thought about how to say it. Finally, I just said the fucking truth. “Because she’s broken, Val. Real fucking broken.” Hush’s eyes closed and my fucking chest tightened. “Damaged like you too, brother. You could help each other. She’s all alone. She fucking needs someone.”

  Hush opened his eyes, gaze determined. “Then be that someone for her.”

  I knew the pain it caused the stubborn fucker to say that shit to me. So I just tore off the Band-Aid. “We could be those someones for her.” He held his breath. “She knows about us anyway.” His eyes snapped to mine, exhaling quick. “About how we like it.”

  “Why the fuck did you tell her that?”

  “So she knows how we are. Knows the situation.”

  Hush’s teeth ground so loud I could hear them. “Then, for once, ignore all that and just fuck her.” He got up on his elbows and looked me in the face. “I give you permission, Aub, okay? Be there for her. However she wants and needs you to be.”

  “We don’t fly solo. Never have.”

  Hush covered his face with his hands. “Yeah, but that’s with sluts and club whores.”

  “And?”

  “And she’s not one! She’s nowhere near a slut. She’s . . . just . . . more.”

  Hush turned away from me. I stared up at the moon outside of the window. “Just tell her, Val. Fuck. She’ll understand. You’re here. Living here for the time being. She might find out anyway.”

  I would never tell him so, but sometimes guarding his secret was real fucking hard. Especially when he refused any good thing that came our way because of it. All he ever said was . . .

  “She’s worth more,” Hush whispered.

  And there it was. What my best friend thought about himself. That he was nothing. A fucked-up past had conditioned him to forever think that way. “She deserves more.”

  “She’s worth you,” I argued, but I knew I’d get no response. “She’s worth us both.” I turned over, punching the pillow into shape with my fist.

  Closing my eyes, I pictured Sia on that horse today, telling me how she needed the horses to feel better. I thought of my stubborn-ass brother behind me and knew he needed me like that too. I had become his fucking emotional crutch. But there was no way I was walking away from him. Didn’t know what life looked like without him in it anyhow. We’d been this way for so long I’d be fucking lost without him. And I didn’t even wanna think what he’d be like without me. We’d always flown two-up, him and me. Not needing any bitches.

  But I could see it with Sia. I could see her with us. They were both so broken and damaged, but I wanted to be there for them. With them.

  It wasn’t long before I heard Hush’s breathing even out. I rolled over and looked at him. I saw the scars and burns that littered his dark skin. Then I glanced down at the Confederate flag tattoo on my arm.

  I sighed.

  I just had to find a way to bring him to my way of thinking. People could change. I was testament to that.

  He liked her.

  I liked her.

  She liked us both.

  We lived a fucking strange life, but with Sia, I was sure there was at least a chance we could be something more.

  Chapter Five

  Sia

  Two weeks later . . .

  “So . . .” I lifted my head up from grooming Sandy to see Clara standing by the stall door.

  “So what?” I smoothed my hand down Sandy’s neck.

  Clara’s dark eyes bulged. She was only twenty, but she was the best damn assistant I ever had. To be honest, outside of Ky and Lilah—and now Hush and Cowboy—she was my only friend.

  She threw up her hands, and then checked around us. “So? So? Sia, don’t leave me hanging! You tell me you’re coming home and to take a vacation, and then I get back to two of the hottest men I’ve ever seen just shacking up with you, playing house, and you ask me so?”

  Dropping my hand from Sandy, I walked to the stall door and unlatched the bolt. Clara only moved back enough for me to get out, before following me into the back room while I collected the bridle and saddle. Clara was hot on my heels as I returned to saddle up Sandy. I sighed and busied myself with the task at hand while trying to think of what the fuck to say.

  “Sia!” Clara insisted, clearly annoyed.

  I finally looked up. “They’re just watching out for me for a while.”

  “Why?”

  I wanted to tell Clara what was going on, but Ky had made me swear never to divulge the truth. I shrugged. “My brother got some news that there’d been home invasions around some ranches. He just wants us to be safe.” She knew Ky was a biker. Beyond that, she knew nothing.

  No one ever did.

  “I hadn’t heard that.” Her eyebrows pulled down.

  “Like I said, he’s got contacts. It hasn’t been made public.” I turned my face away and fixed the length of my stirrups.

  Clara must have bought my white lie, because when I turned around she was in the stall, looking excited. “Well?” she asked in a hushed voice. “Which one do you like?” She held up a hand as my mouth opened to put her off the scent. “And don’t try to protest. You’ve been walking around here with a spring in your step since I got back, and I know it’s due to either the two-hundred-thirty-pound slice of blond cowboy beef or the milk-chocolate blue-eyed god I’ve seen brooding around this place.”

  I shook my head. “Clara, I promise you, I want neither of them.” I was surprised how easily that particular lie slipped from my lips. Because just picturing them, based off her description alone, had my thighs squeezing together; the image of being trapped between them both, naked and sweaty, their hands all over my flesh, filled my mind.

  “Really?” she said, hand on hip. “Then why is your face all flushed right now?”

  “It’s hot.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s hot, the one with the shaved head and full lips.” She bit her tongue. “Have you ever seen eyes that blue before? I swear, I walked past him yesterday, met his eyes, and nearly melted on the spot. If you don’t like him—”

  “Leave off Hush, Clara,” I warned, the words leaving my mouth before I’d even had a chance to realize I’d uttered them.

  Clara began to smile. She shrugged. “Then I’m good with the blond. I love a Stetson on a guy.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Clara, you’re gonna stay away from both of them, right? Neither is up for grabs.”

  Clara’s mouth froze open, and then she covered it with a hand. “Oh shit, Sia. You’re in deep shit. You like both of them.”

  “No . . .It’s not . . .” I lamely tried to argue.

  “You do!” she exclaimed, her voice much louder than before. “Hell, girlfriend, I see why you do, but liking them will just make things beyond complicated—”

  “Liking who?”

  My head snapped around to the entrance of the barn. Cowboy stood against the door, arms folded and eyes bright. Clara looked at me, then back at him, eyes comically wide. I swallowed. “Just some guy I met at a bar a while ago.”

  Cowboy’s eyebrows pulled down. Then he strode toward me, slow, measured, and seemingly completely pissed.

  “I gotta go,” I heard Clara say from behind me. I didn’t once look away from Cowboy. Did
n’t even move as he opened the stall door and came inside, stopping mere inches from me.

  “You got a man, cher? You wanting some douchebag from a bar?” he said, and I saw something I had never seen in his gaze before—jealousy . . . and a hint of anger. Those feelings looked strange on Cowboy. He was the epitome of the laid-back southern man.

  “No,” I whispered. Cowboy lifted his hand and ran it gently down my arm. My skin bumped in its wake.

  “Then who were you talking about, darlin’?” My eyes closed and I sucked in a breath. “Cher?”

  His hand ran up and down, up and down, until I couldn’t take it anymore and I blurted, “You.” My eyes flew open.

  A slow, satisfied grin pulled on his mouth. He stepped closer. So close that my breasts scraped the hard planes of his chest. I tipped my head back to look up at him. He brushed a strand of hair off my face. “Just me?” he whispered, his deep timbre traveling through my body faster than lightning.

  “No,” I relented and watched his smile widen. I knew I was losing my mind. What woman lusted after two men? Then again, what two men sought out women together? The same woman, no jealousy or competition?

  None of this was fucking sane . . . yet I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  Or bring myself to care.

  Cowboy leaned down and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “That’s real good,” he drawled then backed away, leaving me breathless, a walking bag of Jell-O. “I’ve come to watch you train.” He bit his lip exaggeratedly and moaned. “Can’t get enough of seeing you fly around those barrels, cher. Fuck, I think it’s become one of my favorite sights in life.”

  Forcing myself to keep my shit together, I took hold of Sandy’s reins and led her from the stall. As we passed the new stallion I was gonna train to be an up-and-coming bronc competitor, I said, “Pepper here needs training today. He’s a bronc. You up for the challenge?” Cowboy had yet to show me his talents, but as soon as Clara picked Pepper up yesterday, I knew I’d soon get my chance to see him in action.