Burning Ember (33 page)

She looks over at her son pensively. “He made a good decision speakin’ up for her though, so maybe he’ll make another good decision and claim her before the party.”

Over. My. Dead. Fucking. Body.

I grind my teeth and my skin tightens all over. I grunt and cross my arms. Not only has she insulted my intelligence, but she’s also prodding at the jealous feelings that stir inside me every time I see Doll with Dozer. She’s right, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell her so.

“God knows I’m not always gonna be around to take care of you boys, especially if somethin’ happens to Cap. It would do my heart good, havin’ an old lady like her around.”

Fighting solves nothing . . . That’s bullshit. Fighting solves a whole hell of a lot.

MAVERICK

I push through the swinging door of the kitchen expecting to find Doll alone, but what I find instead is a leather cut, and the back of Dozer’s head.

“Septic’s gonna kill me. I was supposed to be at the hospital twenty minutes ago,” Dozer says hoarsely. “But I was hopin’ to get a minute alone with you. Maybe get a kiss to tide me over for the night.”

He’s standing against the counter, and on either side of his hips are feminine legs. Legs that he’s currently running his hands over. Legs that look a hell of a lot like the ones I was eye-fucking not ten minutes ago.

My pulse goes from a steady beat to a fast
thump, thump, thump
in an instant.

Dozer’s head bends forward. The airs discharges from my lungs. The need to haul him off her and rearrange the bone structure of his face grabs hold of me.

I’m about to do so when I hear Doll speak.

“Did you talk to Mav?”

Dozer groans and lifts his head. “No. Not yet. Haven’t gotten a chance to.”

Every cell in my body revolts. “Talk to me about what?”

Dozer spins around. His hands go up defensively. “Mav, it’s not—”

“Save it. Been standin’ here long enough to know what it is.” He was going to kiss her. Questions run rampant through my mind . . .
Was she going to let him? Has he kissed her before? Have they done more than that? Fuck.
All the times I walked past his door and heard them on the other side . . .

What in the ever-loving fuck have they been doing?

Doll slowly slips off the counter. I try to find the answers in her expression but she won’t look at me. In fact, her eyes stay focused on the floor. Her cheeks though are beet red.

“I agreed she’d be for Edge,” Dozer starts, “but—”

Oh no. NO! Fuck no
. He’s not doing this. “No but’s. That’s the fuckin’ deal you made, brother.”

I say it because I can’t fuckin’ tell him the truth. That I want the same goddamn thing he wants. Doll to myself, and to put an end to her being a present for Edge.

The last thing I need is Dozer and me going head to head right now. Not when we’re going for a stroll in Greenback territory without them knowing. And I sure as hell am not going to play tug a war with Doll when she’s right here and already skittish.

I’m also a little terrified that if it came down to it and we made her choose right now, she wouldn’t fucking choose me. Why would she? From day one I’ve been making her life miserable. And Dozer’s been protecting her.

What I need is time. Time to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do, and time to prove to Doll that I’m not the asshole I’ve been.

To Doll, I bark, “Pack your shit. You’re not stayin’ here anymore.” I don’t want her here while I’m gone. Obviously, I can’t trust my brothers to keep their fuckin’ hands to themselves.

Her head snaps up and worry fills her eyes.

Yes, there’s probably a better way to approach this, because I’m not winning any points still acting like a dick, but I can’t help it. I’m pissed. I’m jealous as fuck, and I’ve never been on the losing end of this game before.

Charging toward me, Dozer gets right up into my face. Nose to fuckin’ nose with me. “You want to dole out punishment . . . I’m right the fuck here. You’re not sendin’ her packin’ because of somethin’ I tried to do. Fuck, she didn’t even want me to.”

The admission is music to my fucking ears. But I push it to the back of my mind to think on later. I stare him dead in the eyes. “I let you beat on me last night because I had it comin’. But if you don’t step off me right the fuck now, we will throw down. And I won’t be the only one bleedin’ this time. That what you want?” His nostril’s flare and the muscles in his neck flex. I see in his eyes that he wants to hit me. Instead, he draws in a big breath and steps back.

“I stepped up because you wouldn’t. Now I’m runnin’ this fuckin’ club and since I can’t trust you all to keep your hands off her, I’m makin’ some changes. Her being here for you to take advantage of is one of them. Plus, we gotta hit the fuckin’ road. As it is, we’re gonna be drivin’ all night. And she’s not stayin’ here while we’re gone.”

His brows are pinched together. “Hit the road . . . and go where?”

“Whiz has a lead on our witness. We leave in an hour. She’ll stay with one of the old ladies until we get back.”

Before I leave, I tell Doll, “Get your stuff, and come find me.”

Dozer hollers after me, “Mav, where the fuck you takin’ her?”

I stop midway through the swinging doors, and ask over my shoulder, “What? Don’t you trust me, brother? I give you my word she’ll be in good hands. That should be good enough for you. Right? My word.”

In the main room, I slap Taz on the back. “Headed out to the garage. Need to blow off some steam. You in?”

He rolls his shoulders and stands. A crazy fucking grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

EMBER

Mav told me to pack a bag, but I don’t need to. It’s already packed, ready, and waiting. So, here I sit on Dozer’s beige bed, staring at his blank walls, in his overly plain and impersonal room, letting time tick by as I chew on my thumbnail and worry if the near kiss I had with Dozer will turn Mav against me yet again.

It seemed to. Dozer’s declaration didn’t help matters either. Not only did it make my lunch curdle in my stomach, but also it brought out the same sharp-tongued devil I met the day I came here.

Luce.

I don’t know how I could have prevented it from happening though. I’d been standing in the kitchen scrubbing a plate, when Dozer’s large body pinned me to the counter. At first, I thought it was Mav. I secretly hoped it was Mav. Then Dozer’s woodsy scent swirled around me, and his massive hands gripped my hips. I tried to play it off, made up some pitiful excuse about needing to finish the dishes. Dozer simply took the plate from my hands, dropped it back into the sink, and turned me to face him. In one quick move, he planted me on the counter, spread my legs, and stood between them.

He asked for a kiss before he left for the hospital. But I still had the taste of Mav on my lips. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I stalled.

What are the odds Mav would choose that moment to walk in on us?

Now, I can only imagine what he thinks of me.

Griz is sitting on the far side of the main room with Grinder and a pretty blonde hang around. I approach their table and ask, “Have you seen Mav?”

“In the garage sweetheart.” His eyes swing to the bag I’m carrying. “You goin’ somewhere?”

“I guess I’m staying with one of the old ladies while Mav’s gone.”

He smiles, slaps his leg, and slowly stands. “Good.” He palms his ginger beard and smoothes it down. “That the reason Dozer tore outta here?”

“Yeah. That and he wanted to spend some time at the hospital before him and Mav head out,” I say, not wanting to go into further detail.

He pumps his chin toward the front door. “C’mon, I’ll show ya where to go.” Griz walks me to the sheet metal garage on the other side of the courtyard. After opening the door, he gestures me inside. “In the back,” he says, leaving me to find Mav on my own.

The garage is massive and dimly lit. What sunlight there is comes from windows set about fifteen feet off the ground. The air’s cooler in here than outside, but also muggy and reeks of oil and gas. So strongly that it burns my nose and reminds me of things I’d rather not remember. Like Warner. Eight-foot high flames. And the deafening cry of a fire truck siren.

I force those thoughts to the back of my mind as I cautiously make my way through the clutter of cars, motorcycles, tools, and toolboxes.

It’s not until I come around a far wall that I spy them.

Mav is in a boxing ring facing me, and Taz with his back to me. They’re both shirtless and circling each other. They’re wearing boxing gloves and holding their hands up to block their faces. Taz is bouncing around, whereas Mav is more centered, focused, and firm footed.

I stay partially hidden in the dark. I don’t want to interrupt the match and put an end to this delectable show. Not when I can watch Mav from afar without him knowing.

Because he’s quite the sight.

Perspiration drips like honey from his temple to jaw line, and neck to chest. The light from the bulb hanging above him reflects off the moisture coating the dips and valleys of his pecs and ropy abs. Sex appeal radiates off him in waves, and I’m suddenly incapable of looking at anything else. He’s not thick and throwing muscles everywhere like Taz, but taut in all the right places. Lean hips, nice arms, a small six-pack, and dear God he wears those jeans as if they were made just for him.

The color of his skin is like the color of the Pacific Coast sand when wet. The kind you want to touch and feel under your hands all day.

My eyes roam over the rest of him. The chain around his neck. The words inked across his chest and the small angel on his arm. The one I’ve seen hints of under his sleeve, but have never seen before. It’s beautiful in a broken and mysterious way, and it calls to the part of me that is insanely curious about him.

In a quick move, Mav throws a jab. But Taz dodges it by rapidly swinging his head to the side a split second before it connects. They trade places and Mav puts his back to me.

When he does, my eyes roam over the biggest tattoo I’ve ever seen. The HOC colors as the boys call them. The HOC insignia spans from the top of his spine to his lower back. It’s massive. The middle arrow of the chaos symbol follows the line of his vertebrae. It sinks under the hem of his jeans, and as he moves, the muscles in his back bulge and pop, making the image dance. It’s so damn sexy I have to clench my thighs together to fight the ache building between them.

I’d like to trace the design. Every line, every nuance. The wings. The arrows. The banner with the words that every HOC besides Mav lives by,
Revel in chaos, regret nothing.

Mav’s the exception.

Because Mav is full of regrets.

Taz’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Gettin’ slow, brother.” He bounces on his feet and moves to the side. He moves fast, throws a punch, and lands a solid blow to Mav’s ribs.

An
oomph
sound escapes Mav and a grimace spreads across his face.

Taz chuckles. “Shit man, you’re gettin’ soft. Or should I say hard. The stray still got your head spinnin’ but not the head above your should—”

Mav throws a jab and slams his fist into Taz’s cheek, cutting off whatever he was going to say.