Our eyes remained locked, and I prayed that he would work out exactly what I meant without me having to explain it. As the awkward silence built between us, I knew the precise moment that he realized what I meant. His frown grew, and a tic appeared in his locked jaw. Another minute passed as he stood there, legs braced and arms still crossed. I decided to make it easy for him.

  “Look, don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl and you were very clear on your expectations. For once in my life I let myself go, and I don’t regret it. It was the best night of my life. Lissa has been after me for years to be more adventurous when it comes to sex, and now I understand the reasons why. After last night I’ll be open to more spontaneous, um, hookups.” Oh, God, I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. I was rambling and I knew it and judging from Bull’s darkening expression he didn’t like what he was hearing. I swallowed. “What I mean is, ah, I’ll have to learn to keep my emotions from getting in the way of casual, um, stuff.”

  “What does any of this have to do with your feelings for me, Sprite?”

  God, why were men so obtuse? I was going to have to spell it out for him. I released a sigh of exasperation. “I don’t just like you, Bull, I like like you. I’ve been attracted to you from the beginning, and now that we’ve, ah, had sex, it only reinforced my attraction. I know that because thinking about you and seeing you with another woman bothers me.” ‘Hurt’ would have been a more accurate word, but I would never have said it.

  Silence followed, and then one word exploded out of his mouth that pretty much summed up how he felt. “Fuck!” He began to pace back and forth like a caged animal. “I knew it! This is exactly why I stick to the club girls! They know the score! They don’t get all possessive and clingy because their feelings get in the way! They don’t confuse sex with love!”

  “Love?!” Did he really believe the crap he was spewing? “Wait a minute, Big Guy, I never said I loved you. And I’m not possessive or clingy, either.”

  He halted and turned his angry eyes on me.

  “And calm down! I know the score. Throw one of your women in my face, and I’m sure it will cure me of liking you.” That was the stupidest thing I’d ever said, but I had to convince Bull that I was handling my feelings for him and that he didn’t need to worry.

  He snorted, his face dark and his eyes darker. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he looked like a cornered animal ready to bolt. I realized that he must really hate the thought of being attached to a woman, which I felt was kind of sad.

  I opened my car door.

  “Where you are going?”

  I could hear the frown in his voice.

  “To the police. I still need to report that threat.”

  “No.” He wrapped his beefy hand around my arm and pulled me away, slamming the door at the same time. “We’ll deal with it.”

  “But—”

  “Have a feeling that threat came from your ex. Gonna pay him another visit.”

  I frowned, letting him pull me along. “Another visit?”

  He grunted his response.

  “I’m not staying in your room,” I said stubbornly. I narrowed my eyes on his back when he remained silent. “I mean it, Bull.”

  “We’ll see,” he grumbled.

  Yes, we would.

  Chapter 29

  BULL

  What the fuck did it mean to like like someone? When Viola had uttered those words I’d been too fucking afraid to ask, but one thing she’d made clear was that it didn’t mean that she loved me. I should have been dancing for joy at hearing that, but if that were true then why was I feeling disappointed? Because I was stupid, that was why. Love complicated things.

  So did fucking a woman like Viola.

  I should have kept my hands off her, but she’d been a sweet temptation. Now that I’d had a taste, shit, I wanted more, but I doubted that was going to happen again. Our one-and-done was done, as she’d put it. That’s the way I’d wanted it, too. But her kind of innocence was too damned hard to resist, and I was used to taking what I wanted. Maybe she was on to something about not wanting to stay in my room.

  I wanted her in my room.

  In my bed.

  Tangled up in my sheets.

  Preferably with me.

  I shook my head with disgust at where my thoughts had gone. Maybe I should find somewhere else to lay my head at night. I had plenty of options.

  I’d gotten Viola settled back inside the clubhouse, grabbed her keys so that she couldn’t make a run for it, and then headed out to pay her ex another visit. This time I was going to break some fucking bones. Frenchie had come with me, strictly to have my back in case we ran into trouble on the road. With Radar now gone, shit should stay good for a while. LD could relax a little until his old lady brought his son into the world.

  Frenchie was behind me as I pulled into dickhead’s driveway. He pulled up alongside me and cut his engine off. “I won’t be long.” I brought my leg over the seat.

  “You want me to wait here?”

  “Yeah. If I can’t handle this asshole by myself I don’t deserve to wear the enforcer’s patch.”

  I caught his loud snort as I made my way to the front door. I pounded on it in anger and impatience. I wasn’t there for a friendly visit. A smirk covered my lips when I saw the door handle turn. Obviously Viola’s ex hadn’t learned his lesson about opening the door without checking to see who was on the other side of it first. As soon as he pulled the door back, I pounced.

  “Hello, asshole. Remember me?” He made a sudden move to close the door, but I moved faster. I grabbed him by the shirt front and yanked him roughly outside.

  His hand went up to where I clutched his shirt. “Wh-What do you-you want?” The bravado he’d shown me on the first visit was gone. He was already scared and shaking.

  His eyes bugged as I threw him violently against the house and then held him there with a fist against his upper chest. “I warned you,” I snarled down into his face.

  His eyes grew bigger as he paled. “I haven’t g-gone near Viola—I sw-swear!”

  “Maybe not, but that brick thrown against her door says you’re still thinking about her.” I brought my fist back. “And I don’t like threats made against my woman. I’m going to smash your pretty boy face in and then I’m going to break your fucking legs.” I could hear Frenchie laugh where he sat on his bike.

  “What br-brick? What threat? I don’t know wh-what you’re talk-talking about!”

  He almost sounded convincing. He scrunched up his face and closed his eyes, but I didn’t let that stop me from punching him directly in the nose. The feel of cartilage and bone crunching and then blood spraying was just the beginning of the satisfaction I was aiming for. His compliance was going to make it too fucking easy for me, it would take away the fun. By the time I was done with him, he’d be lucky to be alive.

  I thought about the fear that I’d seen on Viola’s face when she saw the ugly words scratched across the brick and reared back to punch him a second time. This time I was going to knock out a few teeth or shatter his cheekbone.

  He threw up his hands to protect his face. “I swear-swear it-it wasn’t me!” he stammered through the blood dripping down over his mouth.

  “Nicky?”

  I halted my punch mid-air and swung my head in the direction that the soft voice had come from. Standing in the open doorway was a young woman with long red hair. Her stunned expression didn’t disguise her pretty features as her green eyes widened in alarm when she took in what was happening.

  “Nicky!” Her face crumbled when she finally took in his bloody condition, but she seemed too afraid to move.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  Fear-filled eyes met mine, and she began to wring her small hands. “I’m his girlfriend,” she explained. Her gaze moved past me to Frenchie, who was slowly getting off his bike. “What are you doing to him?”

  I would have thought that was obvious.

  His girlfriend? I scowled, looking back at the trembling asshole I still had pinned to the side of the house. Blood poured freely from his broken nose. “Since fucking when?”

  Nick mumbled something that I couldn’t make out.

  “A week,” the woman said in a much stronger voice. “I’m going to call the police!” She made to turn around, but Frenchie caught up with her before she could take a step. She let out a squeal, and her eyes darted to Nick in a silent appeal for help.

  I smirked. The man didn’t have a backbone, except when it came to intimidating women for his own needs.

  “Please don’t hurt her!” he barked, surprising me. He managed to remain on his feet when I released him. “Whatever happened to Viola, I didn’t do it,” he insisted in a thick tone, and for the first time I was beginning to believe him.

  His girlfriend was hot, and it was apparent that Nick had moved on, and rather quickly. Which begged the question—just how much had he actually wanted Viola? Maybe he was the type to string along more than one woman at the same time until he made up his mind about which one he really wanted. I knew his type. A controlling, successful, know-it-all rich jerk who felt entitled.

  “What do you see in his gutless ass, sweetheart?” Frenchie grinned, moving close to the woman’s face and causing her to lean as far away from him as she could. “He have a big dick or something?” he laughed.

  She gasped in outrage, her pretty cheeks flushing a deep rose. “You’re a pig!”

  The grin never wavered from Frenchie’s face. I snorted. Men like him and me let that kind of shit roll off our shoulders, because there was always a little truth in it. “Christ, she’s got bigger balls than him.” I indicated Nick with a jerk of my head. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  As soon as Frenchie released her, she rushed over to Nick. “We should call the police,” she murmured in a firm tone. “He assaulted you.”

  We climbed on to our bikes and waited for a minute. I watched the woman assist Nick with his arm draped over her slender shoulders. At her suggestion, his eyes flew to mine. I glared a silent threat toward him. His girlfriend might not have been smart enough to recognize the silent, ominous undertones, but he was. Some things you just didn’t have to verbalize.

  He shook his head. “No. No cops It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “Smart man!” Frenchie called, out before turning his attention to the woman. “And, sweetheart, we’ll be watching.” He gave her a wink, and I didn’t know if it was that or his subtle threat that caused the color to drain from her face again.

  I had one more thing to say to Nick before taking off. I wanted to make certain that he knew exactly what to expect if he I found out he was playing me. “I find out you lied to me; I’ll be back.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously.

  I left there with more questions than answers. Who the fuck had it out for Viola? One thing was certain, we needed to talk when I got back to the clubhouse.

  Frenchie motioned for me to follow him, and we veered off the road that would take us home. I didn’t have to guess where he was going. The only place of interest to us in the direction he’d chosen was the tattoo shop that was owned by the club. I hadn’t been there in a while, hadn’t needed any new tats. We backed our bikes up to the building.

  I looked over at Frenchie. “You getting a new tat?”

  He shook his head and brought his leg over his seat. “Have a question for Morty.”

  I followed him inside. It was almost closing time and Morty was at the front desk, writing something in the reservation book. He glanced up when we walked in, a welcoming smile spread across his face, showcasing a row of gold-capped teeth.

  I could see why people feared the four-foot six little man. He was covered in tattoos from the top of his bald head down to his feet. He even had a sclera tattoo, which had left the whites of his eyes completely black and freaky as hell. He loved giving off the evil vibe his appearance evoked even though in actuality he was nothing but a big, soft teddy bear.

  “You got new gauges, man.” It was the first thing I noticed when we walked in.

  “Not much left I can do to this body.” He laughed. “You guys here for a tat?”

  “Not today,” Frenchie said. “Just have a question.”

  “I might have an answer.” Morty closed the book he’d been writing in and lay the pen down next to it. “Good timing. I was about to close up.” He lived in an apartment above the shop. “What happened to your knuckles, Brother?”

  I didn’t need to glance down to see that I’d busted them up a little when I’d hit Nick. I hadn’t held anything back, and some of the blood on them might have been his. I shrugged with a smirk. “Must have knocked too hard on the door,” I joked.

  His only response was a smirk, and then he looked back at Frenchie. “What’s your question?”

  “A friend of mine by the name of Lissa came in for a tat earlier. Just curious what she got.”

  “And you couldn’t have called?”

  Frenchie shrugged. “We were in the neighborhood.”

  “Yeah, I remember her. Not the usual type to come in for a tattoo. A real looker. Nice—”

  “I get it man. So, what tat?”

  Frenchie sounded worried. Interesting.

  Morty shook his head. “That’s client-patient privilege,” he smirked.

  Frenchie’s easy-going expression darkened. “That’s bullshit, Morty. You ain’t a fucking doctor or lawyer.”

  I laughed. “You afraid Lissa had your name tattooed on her body?” That kind of shit was serious business in our world. Frenchie just glared at me. “What’s the problem, Brother? I thought you were into her?”

  He didn’t respond, but turned his eyes back on Morty.

  “Relax,” he snorted, walking around the desk toward us. “She had a little rose done on her left tit. Now, if you boys will excuse me, I have a date waiting for me up in my apartment.” He ushered us out the door and locked it behind us.

  I was still laughing as I climbed on my bike. “You didn’t answer my question, Brother.” Neither one of us moved to start our bikes.

  Frenchie released a long breath and relaxed back on his seat. “I am into her. More than I’d like to be.”

  Viola’s pretty face came to my mind. The sudden thought of her having my name tattooed on her body was a fucking turn on. I could picture it on that luscious ass of hers. Fuck. I was hard in record time. I pushed her to the back of my mind, realizing that that’s where I needed to keep her, while at the same asking myself why I was fighting it so hard. I refused to accept that she had crept into my heart and taken up residence when I wasn’t looking.

  “Lissa’s a good woman. You could do worse.” I meant what I said.

  “I could say the same about you and Viola,” Frenchie commented. “You two look at each other the same way Lissa and I look at one another.”

  “You’re crazy,” I snorted, realizing that my response came too fucking fast to be believed. “We’re friends.” Why did I feel as though I was lying? I narrowed my eyes on him. “And we were talking about you and Lissa. Why would you have freaked if she’d had your name put on her?”

  Hell, I knew women who’d tattooed the name of every fucking man they’d been with on their bodies.

  He grew quiet and looked straight ahead. It was turning dark. The bottom half of the tattoo parlor was dark now, but the upstairs’ lights were on. I grinned, thinking about the kind of woman who would be interested in someone who looked like Morty. It would take a special someone to get over his over-the-top appearance. Someone who could look past all the color and piercings and see the man he was inside.

  Finally, Frenchie turned toward me. “It would make it real, Brother. I’m not sure I’m ready to turn my life over to a woman.”

  I nodded my understanding. Our lives were complicated. Dangerous. Hardly the place to bring a good woman into, a civilian ignorant of the chaotic lifestyle we lived. Still, some of us had made it work. LD, Cole, Sax. They all had families now. Why couldn’t the rest of us? I opened my mouth to say as much to Frenchie when it hit me like a fucking freight train.

  Why would he listen to me when I couldn’t even take my own advice?

  Chapter 30

  VIOLA

  “What’s wrong?”

  I pulled my gaze away from where Jade was sitting with the other club girls, Peaches, Bambi, and Carmen. While they were busy talking and laughing, she remained detached and uninterested in being part of the group. She even sat a little away from them, clearly on the outside looking in. Yet whenever she thought that she was being observed, she put on a fake smile and engaged as little as possible.

  “I don’t know, Lissa, but there’s something about Jade that bothers me. She doesn’t belong here. She’s not like the other women.”

  Lissa giggled and moved back. “You mean loud and slutty?”

  I shook my head. “No. That’s not it. I just get the feeling that something about her isn’t right. She’s faking it. I’ve caught her shooting daggers at me, but then when she knows I’m looking at her she suddenly smiles and looks all friendly.”

  Lissa shot a look over at her, picking up her beer at the same time. She hadn’t been at the clubhouse long. As soon as she’d spotted me, she’d rushed over with excitement to show me her new tattoo. I had to admit that the pink rose was beautiful. It was a single flower on a thorny stem, the petals outlined in a darker pink. It looked so real that I’d reached out in awe before she’d slapped my hand away and replaced the bandage.

  “Are you sure you’re not imagining things because of Bull?” She took a sip of her beer.

  God, I hated it every time that someone reminded me that Jade was Bull’s favorite girl. She was a petite, beautiful woman, and the thought of them together twisted like a knife in my heart. When she’d shown up at his room earlier, I was certain they were going to have sex, but Bull had said he hadn’t touched her. I wondered why.

  “She looks harmless enough,” Lissa continued. “Even you could take her.”

  I gave her a dirty look as she laughed. When I didn’t join in, she sobered and said, “You really like him.” She reached across the table for my hand. “Oh, honey, I’ve been so wrapped up in Frenchie that I didn’t notice that you and Bull had something going on.”

 

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