BLAMELESS: MC Biker Romance (Black Thorns, #3) (2 page)

I watch a pussy-assed looking guy in a gray suit walk in. Some businessman. Those types ain’t usually hanging ‘round this part of the city. Weird.

I shake my head to myself.

Whatever.

As he pulls up a stool at the counter, my phone buzzes in my jeans pocket.

I pull it out and smile when I see who it is.

“Ax, brother,” I answer. “What you doing up this late? Living the tamed life now, ain’t ya?”

“Fuck you, asshole. Been up for the last hour with Ava.”

I laugh. “Rox kick your ass outta bed? Go to bed real early now, don’t you? Like ten?”

“Yeah, but she’s sleeping. Don’t gotta wake me up. Got a monitor all set up. Tell you something: my baby girl’s got some lungs on her. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Ava with you right now?”

“Yeah, holding her. What you think? Just told you—”

“Just wondered, cuz ain’t you meant to be toning down your cursing ‘round the baby?”

“You tell Rox and I’ll rip you in two,” he warns.

I laugh, knowing it’s all jokes. “So, what’s up? This club business or a social call?”

“Got a text from Smiter.”

That fucker. Sold me out to Prez? ‘Course he did. It’s cuz I insulted his girl. Disrespected her. Fine. Guess I deserved it. “Look, Ax. I—”

“You all right?” he cuts in.

“What? You ain’t gonna rip into me?”

“You know you fucked up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then just don’t do it again. You doing okay, though? That’s what I wanna know.”

“Yeah. Fine. Why?”

“You just ain’t seemed yourself lately. Wanna tell me why?”

The scene over by the counter catches my eye then. Sarah walks out from the kitchen at the back and stops with a look of terror all over her face as she sees that suit guy sitting up there.

Something ain’t right here.

“Ax, gotta go, brother.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just…later.”

I hang up, stuff my phone back in my jeans and slide outta the booth.

Chapter 2

~Sarah~

Oh my God.

I can’t breathe.

He’s here. He’s here in my diner.

It’s like all my nightmares have broken through into reality.

I’d been hearing things for the last few weeks. Rumors about him and his
business associates
being in the city. But, for the most part, I’d tried to remain in a place of denial about it. I couldn’t face the idea of him being here in Brockford. The idea of me running into him was too awful to comprehend on a conscious level. But the whole denial thing had only worked partially, because I’d been so tense lately just knowing that there was a possibility that he’d find me after all these years.

And now he’s here.

Eddie Torvin.

He hasn’t changed at all.

He has the same wavy, dirty blonde hair that always looks windswept, but is really the work of a ton of product and sculpting. It brushes the collar of his expensive-looking, slick gray suit. His dark—almost black—dead eyes are burning into me as I just stand here gripping the door frame into the back for support. I need to steady myself, because just seeing him has my entire body trembling.

It upsets me that he can still inspire that reaction in me after all these years.

I don’t want it to be this way. I don’t want him to have any influence over me, especially not fear. I’ve come so far. Well, I thought I had.

But look at me now.

I’m that frightened little woman again. The victim.

He crooks his finger at me, a commanding gesture for me to come closer.

When I don’t move, he grinds out, “Sarah, you know I’m not a patient man.”

Oh God. The threat isn’t lost on me.

I swallow hard and force my feet to move in his direction while my body is screaming at me to run. Fight or flight? When it comes to
him
, always flight.

I stop in front of him, very grateful for the counter between us. “What…what do you…want, Eddie?”

“I’m here in Brockford for business. Getting to know the city. Imagine my surprise when I heard about a little hotspot called
Sarah’s Place.
Of course, I instantly thought of you. Could it be Sarah Hughes? Is this where she’s been hiding from me all this time? It didn’t take much to get my answer when the people I asked described you. Quiet, shy, lame and
weak
. Yeah, that’s the Sarah I know. And here you are, baby.”

“You…you need to leave.”

I move to take a step back, but his hand shoots out, grabbing my right wrist.

I gasp as he jerks me towards him and snarls, “We aren’t done.”

“Hell if you ain’t, motherfucker,” a dangerous voice booms suddenly.

Eddie pulls back in surprise, letting go of me and turning sharply on his stool.

I look up to see Runner standing there, shooting daggers at him. Oh God, no. I don’t want him interfering here. He has no idea what he’ll be getting himself into.

“Runner, no. It’s okay. Just leave it,” I eke out.

“It ain’t okay,” he says, his glare focused on Eddie. “Get the fuck out, dipshit.”

“Mind your own business, asshole,” Eddie grunts at him.

“Just made it my business,” Runner tells him. “Taking your hands to her right in front of me. Think I ain’t gonna do shit ‘bout that? You’re twice her fucking size, you pussy.”

Oh no. He called him the ‘P’ word. It’s going to infuriate him.

Eddie slides off his stool. I see that murderous look on his face that I’ve seen too many times before.

But Runner either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t seem to care, because he steps closer, getting right in his face. “You gonna walk outta here, or you want me to make you? Either way’s fine by me.”

Eddie looks him over, like he’s trying to figure out if Runner really means business, or if he’s just all talk. He glares at his cut and I see the realization hit him. He spits with disgust, “Biker trash.”

Runner’s eyes flash and the next thing I know, he’s lunging at Eddie and wrapping his hand around his tie. He tugs really hard. Wow, his strength is…incredible. Eddie has almost a foot on him as well as weight. Runner’s about 5’ 10” and I’d say 180 pounds while Eddie is way over six foot and at least 230 pounds. I watch, open-mouthed, as he drags Eddie to the door. He lets go of him roughly, causing Eddie to stumble and then he slams his hands into his back, knocking him out of the door.

My breath catches in my throat as I watch Eddie start towards him.

Runner lifts the right side of his cut and I gasp as I see a gun there.

Eddie’s reaction mirrors mine.

He glares at Runner for a moment. And then he’s gone, storming back down the street away from the diner.

Runner slams the door shut.

His light brown, almost auburn eyes, are full of concern as he asks, “You all right?”

I can’t speak, but I manage a nod.

“Good,” he grunts.

And then he walks back to his booth and resumes eating his dinner like nothing has happened.

***

I glance at the clock. It’s almost midnight and time to close up. It’s Sunday tomorrow and the diner doesn’t open until 9am. I’m off. I have two of my girls working the shifts. Thank goodness. I’m exhausted. I pulled a double shift today, because one of my waitresses had a funeral to attend for her boyfriend’s grandfather.

I’m about to make my way into the back to get my cleaning supplies to tidy up the place when the doorbell chimes.

I look to see Runner walking back in. The smell of cigarette smoke wafts in with him.

He walks right up to the counter and orders, “So, tell me who that fuck tart were.”

I’m more than a little surprised at this, because he’s barely spoken since throwing Eddie out of here. That was a whole forty-five minutes ago. The extent of our conversation was him saying
thank you
when he handed his empty plate to me. Since then he’s just been sitting in my diner, reading one of the month-old magazines—one about cars—and going out for a smoke every ten minutes.

“Well?” he presses, folding his arms across his chest.

“It…it doesn’t matter,” I say, barely able to look him in the eye as usual. Argh. I hate that. He must think I’m like a pathetic little school girl. It’s just he’s so…hot. Like, scorching hot. Looking directly at him is beyond me. It has me burning up, blushing like a beet and mumbling like an idiot.

His sexy auburn eyes threaten to consume any woman who makes eye contact. His spiky black hair has me fantasizing about running my fingers through it. His body is all muscle and rippling biceps. And his butt in those jeans? Too much. Way too much. I can’t handle a man like him who just oozes sex with everything he says and does.

When I first met him up at Rox’s wedding a few months back, I made a complete fool of myself. I couldn’t even answer him when he came up to me and started talking. It was right up there with one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

“Don’t matter?” he fumes. “The fucker threatened you.”

“He’s gone now, so it’s…it’s fine,” I say, fiddling with a salt shaker on the countertop. “Besides, you don’t want to get involved with him.”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear me, because he asks, “What’s he want?”

“I…uh…I don’t know.”

His hand shoots out then, clasping mine gently over the salt shaker. The sudden, unexpected move has my gaze snapping to his automatically. Oh God. Those eyes.

“Sarah,” he says softly. “Tell me, yeah?”

“He’s my…we dated and I…left.”

“He hurt you, right?”

“How do you—?”

“Saw how scared you were. Saw how he were with you. Weren’t hard to put the pieces together. What’s he want now?”

“He’s doing business here and he…found me.”

He lets go of me and I can finally breathe again. Whoa. That was intense.

“What business?”

“I don’t know. He always kept that private.”

“Name?”

“No, Zeb—I mean—Runner. Just leave it. He’s not a nice guy.”

“Name,” he growls.

“Eddie. Eddie Torvin.”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“You know him?”

“Shit,” he mutters. “Know
of
him. You dated that fuck?”

The way he says it with such disgust gets my back up and I snap, “It was a long time ago, okay?”

He stares at me, looking shocked at my rude response. And then he smirks. “So, you do got some bite to you then, huh?”

I turn away from that heated look in his eyes and tell him over my shoulder, “I need to close up. Thanks, but I’m fine.”

And with that, I hurry into the back before he can say anything else. God, he makes me into a gooey mess every time he looks at me or shows me any attention.

I need to shake this school girl crush on Zeb “Runner” Wilkes. Guys like him don’t go for girls like me. I need to get a hold of myself.

He’s just a customer. Just a customer.

I repeat those words to myself over and over again like a mantra in my head as I start getting to work on closing up the diner.

Chapter 3

~Runner~

Girl threw me through a loop when she gave that fire to me outta the damn blue. Really didn’t know she had it in her. Guess there’s more to her than I thought.

Sweet little thing’s in some serious shit, though. Seems like she don’t wanna admit it. I get that. She’s scared. But being in denial’s fucking foolish. Pretending she ain’t got a threat hanging over her head ain’t gonna make it just go away.

Jesus fuck.

Women.

Can’t believe she’s linked to Torvin. Of all the fuckers in all the damn world, why him? Saying he’s dangerous is an understatement. The club’s been keeping an eye on him.

A few months after Rox burned her position of power in Brockford, a bunch of shit heads started tryin’ to move on in now that she weren’t holding ‘em off. Tried to set up shop. Cuz Brockford’s next door to our town of Reirdon Falls, anything that happens here can impact us. We stopped a bunch of ‘em. Rox’s old man and our old club prez, Dealer, moved down here to keep an eye on stuff. So did Sin, Ax’s uncle. The two of ‘em are real dangerous guys with bad reps, so ‘em being here’s a good deterrent and all that. But now there’s this Torvin fucker. He’s been keeping off their radar.

‘Til tonight.

Ax is gonna kill me when he finds out I crossed Torvin tonight. Shit. It ain’t like I knew who he were.

But the second I saw him lay a hand on Sarah, I lost my shit. Didn’t give a crap neither. Thought he could hurt her like that? He’s lucky the club’s legit now and we got rules ‘bout beating on assholes like him, or I woulda had him in the fucking ICU.