Wreck & Ruin

by Emma Slate

  Her head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  “Colt doesn’t want you unprotected. Zip volunteered to be the one to drive you to and from work and sit at the hospital during your shifts.”

  “That fucker,” she seethed. “So when he told me he’d leave me alone, he was full of shit.”

  I nodded. “Full of shit and I’m pretty sure he’s on the edge. Don’t give up on him just yet. I think he’s close to breaking.”

  “I’m close to breaking.”

  “Yeah, but what if you could finally get everything you want? What if you could really be with him?”

  “I’ve tried throwing myself at him. He still balked.”

  I nodded. “I know, but if Zip is going to be at your place of work, he’s bound to see you and the doctor who asked you out. Together. Make him jealous, Joni. Make him think he’s really lost you and the only way to have you is to take you from someone else.”

  “That’s like my biggest fantasy come to life.” She grinned.

  “He can’t take his eyes off you,” I said. “He stares at you when he thinks you’re not looking. Bring this shit to a boil and I guarantee he’ll be taking whatever Colt gives him. Just make sure when you get him into bed, he has no reason to leave.”

  “Oh, I’m on it. There are years of sexual tension between us. We might burn the house down.” She winced. “Shit. Sorry.”

  The humor on my lips died and I suddenly felt way too sober. “I think I better call it a night.”

  She nodded. “It’s late. You need to be alert when you give Colt hell.”

  Rachel finished her cigarette and Joni got up from the table. We walked inside the clubhouse and I paused. “You notice that Darcy never came back to join us?”

  “She’s probably on top of Gray right about now,” Rachel said with a grin. “Come on, Shelly. I’ll show you the couch in the theater room. Darcy’s kids are probably asleep on the floor in sleeping bags, so don’t be alarmed if you see tiny people first thing in the morning.”

  Shelly laughed. “Thanks for the heads up.” She hugged me hard. “I work tomorrow at nine, so you might still be asleep by the time I get out of here. I have to go home and shower and stuff before then. Can’t show up at the salon with mascara around my eyes and smelling like a tequila emporium.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. That wouldn’t be a vote of confidence.”

  “You’re okay though?” she whispered in my ear. “I mean, he treats you well? We never really did get to talk about him. Not in depth, and not in the way that we normally do.”

  “He’s great.”

  That was the truth.

  Right now there was something between us—a cold wall—and I knew Dev was the one who’d put it there. But when Colt got home tonight, I’d claw my way through the bricks and mortar, I’d scale his fortress, I’d dig a tunnel underneath if I had to. I’d find a way back in, because we were stronger together than apart. And even if Colt couldn’t tell me everything about the Blue Angels, this thing with Dev was about me specifically and I deserved to know.

  Shelly pulled back and her hands went to my shoulders. She took a moment to stare into my eyes. “The house? It’s just stuff.”

  “Photographs, Grammie’s favorite tea cup, Mom’s jewelry? That’s all just stuff? There is sentiment attached to those things.”

  “What did my father do when I moved out of the trailer? He set all my shit on the lawn and torched it. Things I’d bought with my own money. Tapestries that hid the dirty, water stained walls, the collage posters I spent hours making from recycled magazines I’d found outside the bowling alley. I cried. I did. Because at that moment I only had one suitcase full of shitty old clothes that were falling apart. But I made it through, and you will too.” She squeezed my shoulders. “It’s just stuff. The fire didn’t take your memories. Okay?”

  I sighed. “This is why I need you. Always.”

  “Soul sister.”

  “Soul sister.”

  With one last hug, she turned and followed Rachel down the basement steps.

  Joni placed a hand on my shoulder, reminding me that she was still there and had heard my entire exchange with Shelly. “She really is amazing. It’s too bad she already has a man. She’d be a great Old Lady.”

  Chapter 19

  Cool air kissed my skin and then I felt stubble on the inside of my thighs. A tongue stroked me, making me shiver.

  “Colt,” I whispered.

  My hands reached out to grasp his hair. I saw him in the moonlight, big and brawny, a dark shadow giving me more pleasure than I could take.

  He wouldn’t let up, not even when I was coming on his tongue, shaking and moaning, crying out with need.

  Colt lifted his head. “I need you.”

  I nodded.

  “All fours.”

  He flipped me over, his hands angling my hips. I felt him at my entrance and then he was inside me. I gasped at the invasion, feeling him everywhere. His thrusts were ruthless, determined to fill me up so that there was nothing but Colt.

  My fingers gripped the sheets and he continued to assault my every nerve. I was liquid fire, and with each stroke it became an inferno. One hand pinned my hip, the other reached around to play with me.

  Heat blazed between my legs as Colt continued to drill into me from behind. I couldn’t see his eyes. I didn’t need to, knowing they’d be full of lust.

  He slammed into me and I went up in flames. My limbs gave out and I would’ve collapsed onto the bed if Colt’s hands hadn’t been there to hold me up, his fingers digging into my skin as he rammed me like an animal.

  Brutal and savage.

  And I loved it.

  “Mia,” he growled and then he came.

  He wrapped an arm around me and brought us down onto our sides, mindful of my injured wrist. We were silent as our breathing and heartbeats returned to their natural cadence—and with it came the return of my anger.

  I pushed away from him and scrambled from the bed, looking for my underwear, which he’d somehow pulled off of me without me knowing. Sure, I’d been woken up in a pleasurable way, but it felt like he’d done it to lull me into a state of acceptance for his behavior.

  Sex was not a bandage for the wound of his emotional withdrawal.

  I hit my knee on the corner of the bed and cursed, hobbling my way to the nightstand table and turning on the lamp. Colt was on his side, head propped up on his elbow, looking devastatingly gorgeous in nothing but skin and ink. His eyes followed me as I found my clothes and quickly covered myself.

  “Words, babe,” he said after a moment.

  “Words? What words?” I snapped.

  “I’m asking you to talk to me instead of cursing and running from the bed.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He sat up, looking like a jungle cat stretching before it pounced. “I want to know what’s going on inside your head.”

  “Right now? A whole mess of shit.” I stared at him. “You shut down on me today. After you talked to Dev.”

  “Yeah. I did.” He nodded. “But you shut down on me too.”

  “My grandmother’s house was on fire. And what the hell, Colt? We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

  “So—talk.”

  I was so angry I felt like my nerves were going to burst into flames, causing a raging wildfire within me. “You can’t come in here and wake me up the way you did, not after how you treated me this afternoon. You didn’t tell me you were leaving; you were just gone. And then you called me to tell me not to wait up.”

  He didn’t reply for a long moment, studying me with a thoughtful expression.

  “Where were you tonight?” I demanded.

  “Giving Dev a dose of his own medicine.”

  “I don’t know what that means.” We stared at each other for a long moment and Colt didn’t volunteer what a dose of his own medicine meant. “What did Dev say to you?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

&n
bsp; “Because I need to know what makes you go all dark and cold. I need to know things like that so I can,” I sighed, “handle you.”

  His frigid gaze matched his tone when he explained, “He said that when he got his hands on you he’d fuck you in every one of your holes until you bled, and only when you begged for death from the pain of him, he’d slit your throat. He promised to send a treasure map with your body parts marked on it so I could collect the pieces of you.”

  No. Words.

  I had no words.

  Colt reached out and placed his hands on my hips and hauled me forward. “You’re shaking. You’re terrified like I knew you would be. I didn’t want to put that on you. I didn’t want to ever tell you what he’d said, and I shut down because I knew it was inevitable. That I would have to tell you. I gotta know you’re strong enough to hear shit like that.”

  Nausea rose in my belly. I forced it down. I would not let Dev’s words haunt me. I would not give them any power.

  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to Colt so I just pulled him to my chest and buried my face in his hair.

  He tilted his head back so he could look me in the eyes. “Are we okay?”

  I swept a thumb across his lips. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

  “I want to see you handle a pistol.”

  “You think the pistol in my glove box is for show? I can shoot.”

  “I want to see it with my own two eyes.”

  “Fine.”

  “And then you start carrying it on you. Everywhere you go.”

  “I don’t have a concealed carry permit,” I said.

  His jaw hardened. “You let me worry about that.”

  The next morning, I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying to quell the subtle nausea that came with just a bit too much tequila.

  Colt’s arm was thrown across my waist, his face pressed into the pillow. I knew by the sound of his breathing that he was awake, but we didn’t say anything to each other.

  Somehow I managed to prop myself up in bed. I reached for my cell on the nightstand. Shelly had texted a few hours ago, saying that she’d left. I shot back a reply and asked if she was hungover too.

  I set my phone aside and tried to get out of bed, but Colt’s fingers gripped my thigh. “Where are you going?”

  His voice was gravelly and deep, and it made me think of when he’d come to me last night, needing to slake his pleasure. He’d used me in a way that hadn’t made me feel used at all.

  Need erupted between my thighs, but I knew I couldn’t stay in bed and let him make me forget everything I had to face.

  “I need coffee and Aspirin. And a shower,” I added as an afterthought. “Preferably in that order.”

  “Yeah. Definitely a shower. I can smell the tequila coming out of your pores.”

  I pulled a pillow from behind my back and swatted him with it. He tried to roll over to protect himself, laughing when I caught him in the stomach. He retaliated and easily got the pillow away from me. Before I knew it, we’d changed positions and I was on the bottom, breathing hard.

  “I know a good cure for a hangover,” he said, his smile wicked, his eyes languid.

  “Do you?” I murmured.

  His fingers sought the place between my thighs and I winced.

  “I hurt you last night.” Colt’s expression was contrite. “I’m sorry.”

  I let my legs fall open. “Don’t be.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’s a good kind of hurt.”

  “I’ll be gentle this time,” he promised.

  Twenty minutes later, after a very satisfying wake-up call, we both managed to get moving. I stumbled to the shower as Colt reached for his toothbrush.

  By the time I was done, I was feeling marginally better. I dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a black tank. I threw my hair up into a messy bun and paraded barefoot out of Colt’s clubhouse room.

  “You look like hell, darlin’,” Boxer said in way of greeting. He was lounging on a couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

  “I showered. Don’t tell me you can smell the booze coming off me?” I asked. With a sense of familiarity, I grasped his mug of coffee and took it for my own.

  “Nah, I was referring more to the fact that you’re pale and your eyes are bloodshot.”

  “You know, you’re like the older brother I never wanted.”

  He grinned.

  Colt poured himself a cup of coffee and then took a seat in the recliner. He patted his leg and I perched on his lap, happily sucking down Boxer’s coffee.

  “Is no one else awake?” I asked.

  “No. I mean, the kids are. They’re downstairs in the theater basement watching movies and eating cold pizza for breakfast.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Where are Darcy and Gray?”

  “Still conked out.”

  “I want to take Mia out back to the range. I want to see her shoot. You in?”

  “Hell yeah I’m in. Just as long as she doesn’t use me as target practice.”

  “I’m an excellent shot,” I said with a wide grin.

  “That’s what worries me,” Boxer joked.

  I looked at Colt. “You have a range out back?”

  “Yeah, we use it as a place to blow off steam. It’s nice owning property.”

  My cell buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out, hoping it was a text from Shelly.

  No dice.

  It was an unknown number, but I refused to answer it. It was probably Dev. I silenced the call and stuck my phone into my back pocket. A moment later, I felt a buzz, knowing I had a voicemail.

  Colt and Boxer were talking so I got up off Colt’s lap to get some distance. I pressed the voicemail button and listened to it, releasing a slow breath when I realized it wasn’t Dev.

  When the message ended, I stood for a moment in the kitchen, feeling dazed.

  “Babe?” Colt called. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m okay,” I murmured.

  Colt and Boxer exchanged a look and then Boxer got up. “I’m gonna grab a shower. Then I want to see her shoot.”

  He saluted me before he left the room.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Colt said, getting up from the recliner and coming to me.

  “Richie’s lawyer just called me.” I met Colt’s dark brown gaze. “And he wants to meet with me.”

  “Name?”

  “Santoro. Leo Santoro.”

  “I’ll check him out. See if he’s who he says he is. Then we’ll go together, okay?”

  Leo Santoro was a short man with very little black hair left on his balding head. He was somewhere in the age bracket of forty-five to sixty-five. His brown suit did nothing for his appearance, and made him look like every other two-bit hack-job of an attorney. He was just the sort of lawyer I’d expect to represent Richie.

  “Miss O’Banion,” he greeted, standing up from behind his cluttered desk. “Thank you for coming.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. It was clammy, and it took all of my willpower not to wipe my palm on my jeans right in front of him.

  The room he called an office was musty and smelled of mildew. A shaft of sunlight crept through a dirty glass window and dust floated in the air, backlit so that it was much too obvious.

  “Would you and your…companion like something to drink?” Leo’s eyes flicked over Colt, who stood in front of the closed door, looking menacing and ferocious.

  “This is my boyfriend,” I said quickly, noting the look of displeasure on Colt’s face. He clearly didn’t like the lawyer any more than I did. “And we’re fine. Thank you.”

  I took a seat in an old, wooden chair. It wasn’t very comfortable and looked like it was about to collapse.

  “Perhaps your boyfriend would like to wait outside?” Leo asked. “This is a private legal matter.”

  “That’s okay. It’s fine if he stays,” I stated.

  Leo shrugged. “Your prerogative. Let’s get down to it then. You’re her
e because Richie DeMarco ordered the transfer of the deed to Dive Bar directly to you.”

  I blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Leo opened his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. He flipped it open and took out the top paper and handed it to me. “This is the deed to Dive Bar. Richie set things up weeks ago so that you would get the bar—which is fully paid off, by the way. So long as you remain in good standing with yearly property taxes, business licenses, and insurance, the bar is yours.”

  “He gave me Dive Bar?” I asked, taking the deed but not reading it. “I didn’t even know he owe it.”

  “He bought it in cash years ago, and all the insurance policies and forms are up-to-date, complete with your name as beneficiary should anything happen to the bar.” Leo cleared his throat. “Richie is a stickler for paperwork.”

  What an oddity, considering he had no problems getting into bed with the Iron Horsemen and stealing from them.

  “I don’t understand. Why did he do this?”

  “Why, I can’t say. I don’t get paid for why. I just do as my clients ask. And this client made it very clear that you now own Dive Bar. Just sign here, and this copy too please.”

  I took the pen from his outstretched hand and signed my name next to a sticky arrow on the deed and a copy of the paperwork for the attorney to keep.

  “Thank you for reaching out to me, and for your time today.” I stood, making sure I had all my belongings, including the paperwork, needing to get out into the sunshine and breathe air that didn’t reek of mold and dust mites.

  When we escaped the lawyer’s office, I inhaled deeply. And did it a few more times. The street smelled of grease and urine and I instantly wished I hadn’t bothered taking such a deep breath.

  My head spun with everything Leo had told me; none of it made any sense at all. It only made me more confused.

  “Let’s get back to the clubhouse,” Colt said. “We can talk there. Yeah?”

  I nodded.

  We climbed into his truck. “I can’t wait to get you on the back of my bike. I hate having to take the truck everywhere.”

  I held up my cast.

  “Your safety is my top concern,” he said, pulling his aviators out of his vest pocket and sliding them onto his nose.