Wreck & Ruin

by Emma Slate

  He went into his closet and came out a moment later holding up a leather cut—small, feminine, with a patch that read Blue Angels on the right breast pocket. Property of Colt was on the back.

  “Not really my style,” I said, touching the leather. It was soft and new and made my head spin with gravitas.

  “Thought you might say that,” he said with a chuckle and then placed it on the bed. “There’s a box in the closet. Why don’t you open it yourself?”

  I frowned. “Box? What box?”

  He gestured with his chin and I immediately scampered to the walk-in closet. In the center of the floor was a pink wrapped box with curled silver ribbons. I reached for it and brought it back into the bedroom.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “Just open it.” He leaned against the doorway of the room and waited.

  I tore into the box and brushed aside the tissue paper to reveal the sexiest, most bad ass ankle boots I’d ever seen. Black leather with metallic silver spikes and studs all over. Including the heel.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed when I felt inside the lining.

  “Like ’em?” he asked with a knowing grin.

  “I love them,” I corrected.

  “What about me?”

  “What about you?” I couldn’t take my gaze off the boots. They were a shoe fetishist’s dream. I’d worked at a bar, on my feet. I had always chosen comfort over fashion, but now…

  “Waitin’ on you to give me the words. Want to hear them.”

  “You haven’t said them either,” I reminded him with a reproachful look.

  His gaze was hot as it raked over me before coming back to rest on my face. “Love you, darlin’.”

  My smile was slow. “I love you, too.”

  His mouth quirked up on one side. “So you’ll wear the boots tonight when you go out?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  “You’ll wear the leather cut, too. You get one thing. I get one thing.”

  “Technically you got two things. The cut and the tattoo of your name on me.” I arched an eyebrow daring him to argue. “Besides, the cut will rub against my bandage. Guess you didn’t think about that, did you?”

  “My woman’s got a smart mouth.”

  “You like it.”

  “I’d like it better wrapped around my—”

  “Do you have a Blue Angels T-shirt?” I interrupted. “With the logo and everything?”

  “Yeah, I got one.” He pushed away from the doorway and went to his dresser. He pulled open the bottom drawer and dug out a red T-shirt with the logo. It had Blue Angels written across the back. It was perfect for what I needed.

  “And a pair of scissors?”

  “Nightstand drawer. What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’m going to surprise you,” I said with a grin.

  He didn’t smile back. Instead, his gaze felt heavy with intensity.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Joni,” he said.

  I nodded. “Will you get that? And tell her to come up. I need her help getting ready.”

  “You’re bossy.” He marched toward me and kissed me, slow and deep. “Let’s just see how bossy you’re going to be tonight when you get home and I strip everything off you except those boots.”

  “Promises, promises,” I muttered.

  We were engaged in a breathless kiss when the doorbell rang again.

  “Really should get that,” he said, pulling away.

  The door clicked shut and then I grabbed the T-shirt and scissors. Joni walked in when I was standing in front of the mirror, holding the top in front of me.

  “What did you do?” she asked. “That’s so cool!”

  “The art of T-shirt cutting,” I told her. The back and sides were sliced and it would reveal skin.

  “You are going to have to show me how to do that,” she said.

  “I will.” I looked her up in down, taking in her leather dress that crisscrossed down her back with the front looking like a corset. Her rich brown locks had been curled and sprayed, her makeup dramatic and heavy. She wore red vixen pumps to complete the outfit.

  “You look amazing,” I said.

  She brushed aside my compliment with a wave of her hand and then pointed to the boots. “Oh my God. Those are gorgeous.”

  “I know,” I said with a laugh. “I was going to wear them with a pair of skinny black jeans and this shirt I just doctored. I won’t be under dressed next to you, will I?”

  She shook her head. “We’ll just make sure the makeup and the hair go along with it.”

  “I don’t have any of the heavy duty stuff.”

  “Shoot, I should’ve brought my arsenal of makeup and hair products over.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I can have Colt send one of the prospects to the drugstore.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to wait to go out. I want to leave the house before Colt changes his mind.”

  “Changes his mind? Or yours?” She grinned. “I heard he was quite persuasive about the tattoo when you guys were yelling at each other in Charlie’s parking lot.” She gestured to the bandage peeking out from my tank top. “He got his way, didn’t he?”

  “How did you know about all of that?” I asked in surprise. I slid out of my denim shorts and then got into the jeans that were on the bed.

  “Reap told Rachel, Rachel called me. So can I see your tattoo?”

  I gave her my back and tacit permission to move the bandage. “Wow. You really did it.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  She concealed the tattoo, ensuring the dressing stuck to my skin. “Why?”

  I took a step away to slide the cut T-shirt over my head. “Why? What do you mean why?”

  “I mean you seemed pretty adamant about not getting involved with my brother and now you’re not just involved, you’re like, his woman. His Old Lady.”

  I smirked at her in amusement and then went to the bathroom to do my hair. “Weren’t you the one who told me Colt was worth it? Loyal, strong, brave. All that stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not to mention, he’s wicked good in bed.”

  She covered her ears. “And that’s my cue. Meet me downstairs. Hurry up, I gotta drink away what you just said.”

  An hour later, Joni and I were sitting in a booth at Shortie’s, a bar in Blue Angel territory. We’d gotten more than a few looks as we entered, much to Joni’s delight. There was no way I was under the radar now. Not with Colt’s T-shirt and his name on my body. Even though the tattoo wasn’t on display, the two burly bikers who’d followed us in and then taken a seat in the corner to watch over us alerted anyone who was paying attention that we were with the Blue Angels.

  Colt had been gone by the time I’d gotten downstairs. Zip had stopped by and they had both hopped on their bikes to drive away. I didn’t like that he’d left the house without telling me goodbye.

  I wasn’t sure I knew how to do any of what was being asked of me.

  “You look so pathetic,” Joni commented, her gaze drifting from me to her pint of beer.

  “Me? You look just as pathetic as I do,” I stated. “In fact, why do you look so pathetic?”

  She sighed. “Trying to tell myself to move on and actually moving on are two different things. I’m bummed Zip didn’t even spare me a glance.”

  “Then he’s an idiot. You’re amazing.”

  “Thanks.” She shot me a wobbly smile. “I’m going out on a date with a doctor I work with.”

  “No way. Really?”

  “Really.”

  “When?”

  “Next week when I get my next night off. He’s cute and funny, but he’s not Zip.”

  “Then why even bother if all you’re gonna do is fake it?” I asked.

  “Because maybe if I fake it and let some other guy distract me, it’ll take.” She took another sip of her beer. “I still can’t believe you got Colt’s name on you.”

  “Yeah, I can hardly b
elieve that myself. It’s been a crazy past few weeks.”

  “What made you decide to get the tattoo?” she asked. “When the girls came over, you made it seem like you’d never do something like that. And now you’ve gone and changed your tune.”

  “I got your brother’s name on my body because I love him.”

  Her eyes widened. “No.”

  “Yup.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “But, how? How did that happen so fast?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “But it did.”

  “What does this mean for you guys?”

  “It means whatever it means.”

  “That’s so stupidly vague.”

  “You’ve been in love with Zip for years, right?”

  “Don’t remind me,” she grumbled.

  “Sorry. I just mean, you’ve had years to think about what a life with Zip would look like. You’ve explored every avenue, you’ve grown up in this world, you understand what you’re getting into.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I love Colt,” I said slowly, finding it a miracle I didn’t trip over the words. “But that doesn’t mean I have it all figured out. You know?”

  “I get it. Sorry if I’ve put any pressure on you to decide anything. I’m just glad he found you—and you found him.”

  “You’re kind of amazing, you know that? I think you’d get along really well with my best friend.”

  “I’d love to meet her. Why don’t you invite her out to join us?”

  “Another time. I don’t want to have to explain the tattoo. She tried to warn me away from biker guys…”

  Joni laughed. “Then she’s going to be in for quite a shock.”

  A terrible new country song came on the jukebox. I jumped up from my seat and said, “I have to change it or I’ll go crazy.”

  Joni pulled out her phone. “Okay, but you’re not allowed to play Journey. That’s my only stipulation.”

  I wandered past the tables. Most were occupied by people laughing and having a good time. It wasn’t too crowded yet, and I was contemplating ordering a burger. I stood in front of the jukebox, sorting through the albums.

  “Hi,” a guy said from behind me.

  I jumped, startled out of my music perusal.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He held up his hands in an obvious show of apology.

  I noted his sterile, clean-cut good looks.

  “It’s okay. I just didn’t hear you approach.” I turned back to the jukebox and kept sorting through songs.

  “Not a fan of country?”

  “Nope.”

  “Me neither. I like punk.”

  Despite myself, I laughed. Mr. Clean Cut did not look like the type who listened to punk.

  “Just kidding. I hate punk, too,” he said, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Allow me.”

  He fed a buck into the slot and then gestured for me to press a button.

  Moments later, “Paint it Black” by The Rolling Stones played.

  “Well done,” Mr. Clean Cut said.

  “Thanks. Can’t go wrong with The Stones.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Before I could answer, I felt a large, warm body behind me. “She doesn’t need a drink.”

  To make matters worse, Colt hauled me to his side and curled his large hand around my neck in a possessive show.

  “This is Colt,” I introduced. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

  The man almost squeaked as he turned and scurried away. I looked up at Colt whose eyes were still following the retreating form of Mr. Clean Cut. Colt finally dropped his gaze and his lips curved into a seductive smile.

  I frowned. “I’m confused.”

  “About?”

  “Why you’re here.”

  He tilted his head down and smiled at me. “I missed you.”

  “You…missed me?” I asked in surprised delight.

  “Yeah, babe.” His hand tightened ever so slightly. “Are you gonna kiss me hello, or what?”

  I pressed my palms to his chest, my lids fluttering closed. His mouth met mine, warm, eager, demanding.

  “You left the house without saying goodbye,” I admonished.

  He grinned. “Had something to take care of.”

  “What could you have possibly needed to take care of?”

  Colt let me go and took a step away from me. He reached up to his white T-shirt collar and pulled it down, showing off his right pectoral that was covered in a bandage.

  Exactly the same type of bandage that was on my shoulder.

  “No,” I murmured, my hand touching the edge of the tape.

  “Yeah.” His tone was gruff. “You didn’t really think I’d ask you to get my name on you and not do the same in return?”

  “You never said anything. Why didn’t you do it after I was in the tattoo chair?”

  He lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, I’m surprised.”

  Colt took my lips in a gentle kiss before pulling back. “Figure we got years before you know all my habits and I know yours. But I know all the things I need to know about you right now.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I know how you bite your lip and your forehead wrinkles when you’re trying to work something out. I know you like to be independent, but I also know you were dying for a family. I know you love your friends enough to protect them. I know what I need to know about you, Mia. I’m honored to have your name on me.”

  “Colt,” I breathed, feeling tears coat my lashes.

  The Stones song came to an end, and for a moment there was a lull in the music, just long enough for me to hear the motorcycles.

  I didn’t think anything of it since we were on Blue Angel territory and was about to ask Colt if I could buy him a beer when he suddenly pushed me to the ground.

  I fell to the floor and Colt’s body draped over mine. Air whooshed from my lungs and my shoulder throbbed in dull pain.

  “What the hell?” I groused, but the words lodged in my throat when I heard the sound of gunshots. Bullets began to spray the room. Windows exploded and the walls burst with clouds of dust. Shards of metallic-backed razor sharp mirror flew everywhere as bullets struck the glass behind the bar. People screamed and a cacophony of mayhem and destruction made my ears ring. Tables and chairs scraped along the scarred wooden floors as customers dove for safety. People scurried to find protection, spilling beer and liquor and knocking each other to the ground in a panic.

  I was numb with terror, but I got out a strangled, “Joni!”

  “Acid’s got her,” Colt said, voice hard.

  When the noise ceased and the room had gone eerily quiet, I attempted to peer around. My breathing was shallow and spots danced before my eyes. “Colt,” I wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”

  He lifted himself off me and stood. Reaching down, he took my hand and helped me up. The bar was wrecked. Bottles behind the bar were nothing more than shattered remains; tables and chairs were kicked over, the walls riddled with holes. There was a long crack down the front of the jukebox’s glass. It made a noise, trying to turn back on, but after a pathetic warble it fell silent.

  People slowly emerged from their stunned confusion. They looked at the bar, taking stock of each other and themselves.

  Someone whimpered in pain.

  “Colt!” Cheese called out. “Over here!”

  We ran to Cheese who was helping a struggling Joni sit up. “Don’t worry him for nothing,” she groused, pressing a hand to her upper arm. “I’m fine. It’s just a cut from glass.”

  “Let me see,” Colt barked.

  “I’m a nurse,” she reminded him, even as she removed her hand so Colt could inspect her injury. Blood oozed a bit from the wound before Joni pressed her palm to it. “It’s superficial.”

  “Prez, we got trouble,” Acid said with a glance at the doorway.

  “Iron Horsemen?” Colt ask
ed, not taking his eyes from Joni who was sitting in a chair, looking far too pale.

  “Cops.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “Guys, get Joni and Mia out of here. I’ll deal with the cops.” He squeezed my hand and then let me go.

  Acid hoisted Joni up and all but carted her to the back of the bar. Cheese and I followed at a quick pace. The four of us piled into Joni’s car and left the parking lot as quickly as we could without attracting any more attention. I sat in the back with Joni and kept up a steady stream of chatter in hopes of distracting her from the discomfort.

  We got her checked in and registered at the hospital. She was taken back immediately, and the three of us moved to the waiting room.

  “Coffee?” Cheese asked.

  Acid shook his head.

  “I’d love a cup. Thanks,” I said.

  Cheese went off in search of caffeine and Acid pulled out his phone and shot off a text. Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors opened and Zip burst out.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  “Doctor is stitching her up, she’s going to be fine,” I said, my gaze resting on him.

  Zip nodded and then reluctantly took a seat. His leg bounced with nervousness and then he got up from his chair and began to pace.

  “Who told you we were here? Colt?” I asked, pitching my voice low so Cheese and Acid didn’t overhear me.

  “Acid texted,” Zip answered.

  Another ten minutes passed in silence and then I saw Joni walking down the hallway toward the reception desk.

  When she noticed Zip, her mouth gaped. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m going to drive you home in my truck,” Zip replied.

  “Mkay. They gave me painkillers. The good shit,” Joni stage-whispered and then grinned. “I’m feeling pretty light and airy. So let’s go, pretty boy…”

  A slight smile tugged at Zip’s lips and he couldn’t take his eyes off Joni as he led her toward the elevator. Cheese and I followed behind them and Acid brought up the rear. Joni babbled incoherently, but the rest of us were subdued.

  When we got to the parking lot, Joni threw her uninjured arm around me. I winced when she pressed her hand against the bandage on my shoulder, but I managed to hold it in.

  “You’re a great friend,” she yelled.