Burning Ember (21 page)

My hair keeps falling in my face. Most of it is tied back in a bun, but strands keep escaping from the tie. I use my forearm and sweep them back but they only fall forward again a moment later.

“Why are you wearin’ such baggy clothes? Don’t you want us to get a good look at what we’ll be samplin’ soon?” Bodie asks.

“In,” Taz looks over at the calendar, “six more days.”

I meet Taz’s black gaze. He’s good looking, but in a Brad Pitt
12 Monkeys
kind of way. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s got a few bolts missing upstairs. It’s not a far stretch of the imagination to picture him in a white straitjacket instead of his leather vest. Or an orange jumpsuit to go with those nice prison tats on his face.

Right now, he’s flipping a knife end over end—catching the blade, then the handle. He’s also sucking on a toothpick. Which I think is to cover up the slight lisp he has when he says certain words.

I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t care if you see what my body looks like.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I hope they can’t tell. With Taz, it’s all about not letting him get to me.

Bodie sits forward on the couch, hands going to his knees. Bodie and Taz share a look. I shake my head and go back to cleaning.

“That right? So you gonna strip for us then. Give us a little show, ginger?” Bodie asks. I pause and focus on his expectant face.

“How about it, little stray?” Taz quips. “If it’s no big deal and all.”

He’s testing me. He’s always pushing. Like Mav. They’re always watching, always pushing me to unleash my temper. They want me afraid. They want me to run.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Griz come in and take a seat at one of the low tables. His presence calms me. He’s been sweet to me since I came here. Him and Dozer.

I play it all off as a joke. See maybe if I can keep it lighthearted. And I have an idea of how to get them to leave me alone.

“Sure, does right now work for you?” I get up, stretch for a second. My back aches like someone took a bat to it. My knees throb but they’re also half-numb from me kneeling for so long. I twist my back and push my boobs out. “I’m dying for a shower. But I’ll need to get these clothes off. You want to help me out?”

Taz eyes me suspiciously. “What are you playin’ at?”

“I’m not playin’. I’m serious.”

“How about you, Bodie? You want me to run my hands all over your face? In your hair, maybe?” I say it all in a saucy sweet voice.

Bodie’s flirty smile changes as I raise my gloved hands toward him. He finally catches on and thrusts his hands out to ward me off. “Ah uh, fuck that. Don’t you come near me with those gloves on. Oh, shit!” He laughs and jumps off the couch, then over the coffee table in front of it. “You got jizz on you from fingertips to elbows. Who knows what kind of diseases you’ve picked up from that floor.”

Griz, along with some of the old bikers in the corner, burst out laughing. “Get him, sweetheart. Half that shit he’s talkin’ about is his leftovers.”

I’m smiling and following Bodie around the room. “Ah, baby. What’s wrong? Don’t want a piece of me now? And here I thought you were staring at my ass all day because you actually wanted to touch it.”

“I do, but not until you shower that shit off you!”

I mimic a male voice and say, “What’s wrong, baby? I’m clean. I’ve been tested, trust me.”

This causes a roar of laughter to break out from the guys in the room. Even Bodie is laughing as he darts to the side of me.

We dance around Rigor who’s shaking his head and chuckling quietly while trying not to move so I don’t accidently touch him.

“How about you, Taz? I thought you wanted me to strip. Aren’t you going to help a girl out?” I’m a bit nervous about playing around with him.

He pops off his stool though and smiles as he gestures for me to come at him. So I get closer.

“Better dance boxer boy,” Griz hollers.

Four feet away, I lunge for him.

Taz jumps back and starts bouncing on his feet. “Come on, little stray. You can do better than that. Let’s see whatcha got.”

I’m surprised. Who knew Taz had a fun side. I sure as hell didn’t.

He puts his hands up boxer style. When I try to touch him, he uses his hands and does some crazy wax on, wax off stuff as he bats my hands away.

“Watch out man, she might be small, but she’s fast,” Griz warns. “Maybe even as fast as you.”

“Not possible. Maybe he means you like it fast. Is that it, little stray?” Taz taunts.

I attempt to touch him, but he swivels and spins out of the way a second before my hand can make contact.

“Or maybe you
like
it hard. Hard and rough and fast. Bet you like to be dominated, don’t ‘cha?” The game suddenly loses its lightheartedness. At least it does for me.

I drop my hands. My jaw tightens.

No, Em. This is what he wants. Don’t let him get to you.

I turn away from him and say, “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” The words are hollow and I can hear how shaky my voice sounds.

I hear footsteps behind me a split second before thick arms circle my waist and suddenly I’m lifted off the floor. I scream. Everyone laughs. But my heart’s in my throat and all I can think about is Warner, and me being thrown on the bed, forced down against my will, my face to the mattress, my ass in the air. And him forcing himself on me, while I screamed like the damned for him to stop.

Bodie’s laughing like this is the funniest thing as I struggle against him. I know it’s not Warner, but the memories are right there, beating at the door of my mind and I’m doing everything to push them back. They don’t belong here.

“Don’t!” I plead and squirm in Bodie’s arms. “Please . . . put me down!”

I hate being man handled. I hate that my pleas and rebuffs have no effect. That I’m powerless.
Again.
But at least people can hear me. In that basement, no one could hear me. No one could help me. I could have died down there and no one would have known.

“Please, stop!”

Don’t freak out.
I’m freaking out. I try to sound incredulous not panicked.

“Grab her arms!”

Ice skates down my spine. “No. Don’t!”

“What in the fuck’s going on?” Mav shouts from the doorway.

Instantly, Bodie drops me and steps away with his hands up. “Just playin’ the fuck around, man.”

Mav’s amber eyes shoot over to my face. There seems to be a question he’s asking, but not with words. His forehead’s wrinkled with concern and anger.

I hear it before I see it.

I turn just in time to watch Taz step away from the spilled bucket of mucky water. Spilled at just the right angle. So it floods the part of floor I recently finished.

“Fuck! You can’t leave that shit in the middle of the room,” Taz shouts as he jumps to a dry spot on the floor.

Heat floods into my face and ears. My chest burns. I open my mouth to tell them all to fuck off and to rot in hell. And I’ve never in all my years had the urge to tell someone that, so I know I’m close to losing it. But somehow I manage to hold it in.

Taz barks out, “What? It was a fuckin’ accident.”

I breathe heavily through my nose, knowing I need to pull myself together. I walk from the room, into the kitchen, and straight out the back door. Once outside I fall back against the building and stare up at the clear sky.
Breathe, Em. Breathe.

No crying over spilled . . .
ummm, yeah, not going there.

I take deep breaths and the fresh air helps. I revel in it for about ten minutes before I know I need to clean up the mess and let Taz know that he’s going to have to try harder.

After I’ve scrounged up a handful of towels, I go back into the main room.

I notice right away that Taz and Mav are having a heated discussion down the hallway. After a minute, Taz storms past me, sending me a deadly glare as he does so. Mav comes back into the room.

Griz walks up to me and grabs a towel. Then he lays it over some of the mess. My heart warms at the simple gesture. Rigor follows his example. Bodie watches both and then decides to help too. I give him a tentative smile and he gives me a kiss on the cheek in return.

A growl comes from the hallway and both Bodie and I peer up to see Mav scowling.

Bodie holds up his hands. “I forgot. Shit. Won’t happen again.”

“People better stop forgettin’ shit around here, or we’re gonna have problems.” His eyes dart to mine and then back to Bodie. “See that it doesn’t happen again,” Mav mutters before he goes in his office and slams the door.

Bodie looks over at me and the corner of his mouth lifts up, revealing his sexy dimples. He winks and then walks off to lay the towel over the mess on the floor. Together the four of us clean up the spilled water . . . and whatever other things it contains.

The garbage is overflowing. I pull it out and knot the top of the bag. It’s heavy enough I need two hands to carry it. Using the back door, I exit the clubhouse. I’m just outside the door when I hear Mav’s voice and stop in my tracks.

“No. You do what you got to do. I’ll take care of him. I get that you need to do this.” After a few seconds, he speaks again, “I’ll pick him up first thing tomorrow. Come on now, I always treat him like he’s my own.”

He gives a dismissive snort. “No, I won’t let these assholes do anything stupid to him.”

There’s silence for another few seconds and then, Mav lets out a laugh. A real laugh. It’s masculine and beautiful, and, God, I’d give anything to see his face right now. I bet it’s a sight to see. My stomach does a little flip, and I press my free hand there scolding it to settle down.

“You what?” he laughs again. “He okay? No, I’m not pullin’ them, Nick. At least not both of them. Pick one and keep him with you. And I mean like you’re fuckin’ connected at the hip. No bullshit. That’s the best I can do. No, not until we know who hit Cap and make sure they’re not comin’ back to finish the job.” He exhales. “And keep your piece with you at all times. Yeah, yeah. Call me when you get to Cali and check in every day. I gotta know you’re safe, even if it’s through Dozer.”

I hear him curse under his breath. “Yeah, there is. You heard about her, huh?” There’s a pause. “Lil’ Bird’s doin’. Surprise for Edge. She’s not stayin. It’s only a temporary deal.”

I hear the click of a lighter.

“Yeah, she definitely knows her way around a kitchen, so most of the guys have takin’ a likin’ to her.” Silence. He lets out a long breath. “Well, she’s not tough on the eyes if that’s what you askin’. Nope. Not goin’ there.”

Not tough on the eyes?

I bite my lip. I want to step closer. But I don’t want to give myself away. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. I can’t help myself though. He sounds so at ease. Not angry, which he is every time he talks to me.

Another laugh, “Yeah, Bodie’s gonna be in the thick of it with Blaire if he doesn’t start showin’ up at home for meals and shit. She’ll come lookin’ for him, and we all know how that’s gonna end.”

“Fuck . . . don’t ask me. He’s pissin’ me off. I don’t know what’s goin’ on with him. Cap thought it was because of Bethany, but now he’s all over Do—Pumpkin. Maybe he’s just sick of waitin’ for her to come around.”

He’s silent for a long while and then says, “Hey, listen . . . I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I jump into action and quietly back up so I can open and roughly slam the back door, acting as though I barely walked outside. I look up in time to see him coming around the corner cigarette dangling from his lips.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him. It’s always a shock to my system. A sucker punch of sorts. Almost as if I forget, during the times when he’s not around, how gorgeous he is.

I’m unexplainably drawn to him like two compatible sides of a magnet. My lips part as my eyes hungrily run over him.

His jeans are light today. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt that hugs his chest and biceps and no leather jacket. His facial hair is growing longer and longer each day and I keep expecting him to trim it, because it’s starting to look like a beard, but each day it’s still there.

His eyes draw up to my face when he sees me. His steps falter, leaving us facing each other with three feet of space between us. Too much space and yet too little.

Something fills the space quickly though. Chemistry? Sexual tension? Anger? I’m not certain, but it’s there, coiling in the air. His irises are lighter than usual as they roam over me. Although that could be from the way the sunlight’s hitting his face. The breeze causes the smoke from his cigarette to waft toward me and I wave it away. I’m not a fan of the smell. And definitely don’t want it on my clothes. Reminds me too much of my mother.

He pulls the cigarette from his mouth and holds it away from me.

I’m caught completely off guard by the gesture. Then shocked stupid when he reaches toward the bag I’m holding and says, “Want a hand with that?”

I blink.
What? Is he messing with me?
I raise an eyebrow and pull the bag closer to me. “Uh . . . is that a trick question?”

His eyebrows pull together and his mouth quirks. “No, why would it be?”

“Right. Mmmm. Maybe because you get off on making me do disgusting things.”
Oh my God. Did that really just come out of my mouth?
As the words roll through my mind a second time, humor lights up his eyes. A knowing and naughty smile appears, and I can tell he’s trying and failing to stifle his reaction to my words and what they insinuate.