Devil May Care: Boxed Set (28 page)

Olivia

The next day started off rough for me. It started with me forgetting my keys and having to call Sarah, my coworker, in early because she had the only other set of keys. Then I took almost an hour instead of half an hour to cut a woman’s hair because I kept spacing off into the void, as Sarah kept calling it. Then, I nearly ended up dying an old woman’s hair a bright aquamarine instead of the soft, careful gray-blue that she had picked out for herself.

And the worst part was the reason that I couldn’t seem to get my shit together today was because of last night.

And not Tom.

All I could see to think about was Rome. His strong hands sliding along my figure, his hand palming my rear as he simultaneously brought me closer to his body. His hard, hot body, too sexy for words, too enticing for me to wrap my head around.

But my legs, however,
those
I could see myself wrapping around him.

I remembered the way my breasts pressed tightly against his chest, heaving as he touched me, pulled me tightly to him. I felt his erection pressing along my belly, straining against his jeans, clearly trying to get free.

And god I’d wanted to get him free. I’d wanted so much more than a kiss—a hot, open mouthed kiss, his tongue searching and dueling and exploring, his lips full and softer than I had expected—and the light groping he’d given me.

I’d wanted to be naked, undulating beneath him as he did wild, wild things to me.

God, I need to get laid,
I thought to myself, trying to push out the thoughts of him. I told myself that was all it was. I was in desperate need of a little loving. It had nothing to do with him, with the way his hands seemed to fit perfectly on my hips or the way his rock hard muscles wrapped around me protectively.

No, it was just about a personal need for sex, because I hadn’t had any for a while. And what I had had wasn’t all that good.

Figures that my last lay would be lousy,
I thought miserably. Tom had been terrible.

Whatever the reason, I couldn’t seem to get Rome or the kiss out of my head. I wanted things from him that I definitely shouldn’t have been wanting, but I couldn’t seem to get the ideas and thoughts out of my head.

I was working on Mrs. Finke’s hair this last time when I got distracted. She had a tendency to ramble, and she didn’t need me on the other end of a conversation to hold one. Instead, she could just ramble on and on all by herself without seemingly a single care in the world.

And I didn’t mind that. I’d nod every so often and let her go. Most of the time I even listened, but today was difficult. I already couldn’t focus and she just wouldn’t stop talking about things I couldn’t make myself care about.

I figured it was fine though. She was a regular and I always took care of her. She got the same thing every time: a cut and a dye. The cut was a trim—she kept her hair short and slightly teased so that it fluffed up into an old lady perm without the perm—and the color was always the same, a greyish silvery kind of blue that could hardly be called blue at all. She would always joke and call it her old lady color.

I had finished the trim without any incident, though there had been a close call with just how much I was supposed to be taking off, but then I got to the coloring and it all seemed to go to hell.

We kept most of the widely used colors out front, but hers was a special made color and not many people got it, so I had to get the colors to mix from the back. I didn’t know what it was about being on my tiptoes, reaching for one of the higher shelves, pressing myself against the scaffolding, but suddenly I imagined that Rome was in there, too. That he was standing behind me and was sliding those large hands down along my sides, tracing my curves lightly. I could hear his laugh, deep and sultry, slipping through my entire person, like silk or a velvety tongue on my skin.

I shuddered and it took everything I had to pull myself together, grab my colors, and get out of there.

I was mixing the colors and my hands were still shaking after my uninvited fantasy in the back. Mrs. Finke was still rambling, unconcerned with whether or not I was listening in the first place. I had used a rat tailed dying brush to gather up a glomp of coloring and was about to slide it through Mrs. Finke’s hair, when a hand stilled mine.

Startled, I looked over to see who it was. Shaylee, my boss.

I mouthed, “What?”

She raised her eyebrows pointedly at me, her brown eyes glancing down at the brush in my hands. I followed her gaze and froze, wide-eyed.

“Oh my god,” I whispered. The color wasn’t the blue-grey Mrs. Finke always got, but a neon aquamarine that most teenagers wouldn’t have had the guts to wear.

And I’d been about to put that on her hair!

“Give us just a minute, Mrs. Finke,” Shaylee told my client with a smile, taking me by the elbow as she did so. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to borrow your lovely hairdresser for just a minute.”

I let her pull me away to a corner where our coworkers and the clients weren’t going to be able to hear me. “Okay, what’s going on?” Shaylee demanded.

Pulling myself up and steadying my breath—but not my heartbeat—I offered a shaky smile. “Nothing. I’m good.”

Again, Shaylee’s eyebrows rose in skepticism. “Really. So you
meant
to dye Mrs. Finke’s hair a lovely shade of mermaid? And you
always
forget your keys?”

Letting out a sigh, I rubbed my hand over my eyes and shook my head. “I’m just…having some troubles with my ex.” Which was sort of true and sort of not. I was having troubles with him, but he definitely wasn’t the reason for my distraction today. Oh, no, that was all the muscled, gorgeous biker, Rome.

Instantly, Shaylee’s expression shifted to one of sympathy and I felt a little bad for lying to her. She was such a good friend, despite also being my boss. “That just really sucks. What an ass.” She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. “Alright, well, try to take it easy. Don’t let him get to you. Now that I’m about to be outta here, you’re up for a promotion, you know? Don’t let him blow
everything
in your life. Not now, not when you’re finally getting it together.”

I nodded and appreciated the absolute sincerity of her words. She meant it, felt it in her heart, and regardless of who we were together at work, she wanted me to succeed after what I’d dealt with regarding Tom.

The rest of the day, I forced myself to focus on work and I didn’t have any incidents or near misses—thank
god
—but when the end of my shift made its way around, the door chimed. I was finishing up cleaning my station, but glanced up wondering if I had missed an appointment or if this was a walk in.

As soon as I caught sight of the customer, I froze. My breath caught and my heart thumped wildly in my chest.

Rome.

His gaze found me easily and as soon as our eyes locked, his full lips pulled into the kind of smile that made grown women melt like school girls.

I didn’t, but only just barely.

He strutted over to me, oozing sex and confidence.

“What…” I began, but my voice was too breathless. I had to clear my throat and start over, which made his smile widen. “What are you doing here? How…how did you even know where I worked?”

He glanced down at my chest and for a minute I felt annoyed, but then he looked back up at me and said, “Your nametag. You were still wearing it last night. It’s got the name of the place on it.”

I automatically glanced down at my chest and sure enough there was my nametag with
Olivia
printed across it along with
Westside Scissors
. I thought I had taken it off before going to the bar last night, but thinking it over, I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t changed, so there was a good chance that I hadn’t remembered to take off the name tag either.

It was utterly stupid, but I was a little relieved. At least he hadn’t gone through a lot of trouble to find me, necessarily. I would have been a lot more worried if he showed up and hadn’t had any indication last night of where I worked.

Still, what was he doing here?

He was still staring at me with those stormy grey eyes and something in my body intrinsically reacted to him. My body flushed, my cheeks burning as I tried desperately to push down a blush that had no business being on my face. He must have spotted it, because his smile turned smug.

I opened my mouth to ask him what in the hell he thought he was doing at my place of work, but before I got even a single word out he said, “Go to dinner with me.”

It wasn’t so much a question as a statement, like
of course you’re going to dinner with me, what sort of red blooded, straight woman
wouldn’t
be going to dinner with me?

Instantly, it had my feathers ruffled. I didn’t appreciate feeling as though my decisions were already made for me, Tom had done a lot of that, and I wasn’t about to just give in to this man because he sauntered in here like he owned the place. I could resist a little temptation, no matter how sexy that temptation was.

Schooling my face into an unimpressed scowl, I said, “No. I’m busy.”

Then I turned away from him and continued to clean up my station. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that he wasn’t as put off by my refusal as I’d hoped. If anything, the gleam of his eye looked like that of a predator enjoying the hunt.

Which would make me the prey.

I shuddered at the thought, but not for the reasons I should have. I wasn’t terrified, though I told myself that would have been a far more appropriate reaction. Instead, something warm slid through my body, threatening to make me melt into his arms. Desire and lust, I was pretty sure, which was why I wouldn’t let myself look at him outright again.

No need to encourage him or the feelings inside me.

I didn’t look at him, but noticed his hand go to the counter—the counter where my phone was sitting on the corner. Before I could react, he swiped it and opened it. I really needed to put a lock code on the damn thing.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, gripping the back of my chair tightly to keep myself steady.

“Making sure you can reach me when you change your mind about that dinner,” he said cheekily.

He was definitely confident, I would give him that. “Give me that!” I snapped at him, reaching my hand out, palm up, for my phone. He placed it lightly in my palm, which told me that he’d already successfully put his number into my phone.

It irritated me—and thrilled me.

I pointedly looked away from him again, though I could feel his eyes boring into me. Eventually, I noticed him in the mirror as he lifted his arms in an
I surrender
gesture, then backed away. Just as he pushed his way out the door, he sent me a wink that should not have sent butterflies rippling through my stomach—but it did.

Rome

This business with Olivia was distracting me, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. On the one hand, the way she slipped into my thoughts, a reminder of the things I desperately wanted from her, was the best kind of distraction.

After that whole business with her asshole of an ex, I’d gone to see her at her work. Which was maybe a really stupid move on my part. I knew she wanted me, could sense the way her body responded to me—just as desperate as my own lusting body. Her desire wasn’t a question, but her will was intriguing me.

She worked so
hard
to resist me. Like she knew I was trouble the moment she laid eyes on me—which wasn’t wrong—and was running the other way because of it.

But she must not have realized yet that running from me was the best way to get me to chase her. I hadn’t been turned down by a girl in a
long
time. Not since I was a kid lingering in foster homes and didn’t give a damn about sex, too worried about my own survival. Having someone flat out deny me like that…well, it was having the opposite effect on me.

I wanted her. Bad. In the worst possible way, and it left me thinking of her more than I should have been.

Things were going down with the Renegades, bad things and dangerous things. Axel was a man I had considered family for a long time and his trust meant a lot to me. It also went a long way with the other Renegades, but it would only go so far. They’d reason amongst themselves that he couldn’t know what had really happened since he’d been locked up. He couldn’t know that I was a traitor.

Even the word made my blood boil. I wanted to pound the living daylights out of all of them, draw some blood and break some bones, until I’d beaten them into submission.

Unfortunately, that was unlikely to make me look innocent. I was in a tough spot. If I didn’t convince the rest of the boys that I was on the right side soon, it wouldn’t matter how much faith Axel had in me, I’d be a dead man.

And with the threat of becoming a dead man looming just over my shoulders, I really shouldn’t have been so goddamned focus on some hot piece of ass I found at the bar.

But I was and some small sliver of me acknowledged just how dangerous that was.

Of course, I
did
live for danger, didn’t I?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, notifying me of a text message, and for a brief, wild second I imagined that it was her. Olivia. I thought of all of the things she could be sending me—a simple yes, implying we were on for dinner, or something much more…racy. I thought of the way she would look in skimpy lingerie. Was she the kind who indulged in lace? Or maybe leather? Did she wear thigh highs when she fucked, or was she more of a completely bare kind of girl? Was she into pictures? Into dirty texts? Into making me hard before I even got to slide my hand between her legs and touch that sweet little pussy of hers?

God, I hoped so.

Feeling myself lengthen once more in my jeans at the thoughts of her, I dug into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Instantly, I was disappointed. It wasn’t from Olivia at all.

Shaking my head, I almost laughed at myself.
Of course
it wasn’t from her. She was still trying to resist me, to convince herself that she didn’t want me just as badly as I wanted her. She probably wasn’t going to be sending me any naked, spread legs pictures anytime soon.

Instead, I frowned at who the text was actually from: Jacob Weizmann.

Once upon a time, Jacob and I had managed to be civil with each other. We’d never been particularly good friends, but we’d made peace when we accepted that both of us would be part of the Renegades. Not backing down went a long way with Jacob, and it meant he didn’t have a problem with me.

Until recently.

The thing about Jacob was that he could be a little judgmental. When he made a decision about you, he didn’t go back on it. And since I’d recently gotten myself on his shit list, it meant that he was unlikely to ever take me off of it. Not even if I managed to convince him and the rest of the Renegades that I was innocent. From here on out, he’d have his eye on me, waiting for me to slip up.

Which was what made his text so strange.
Time to clear the air. I’m calling a truce. Meet me.

Jacob wasn’t one for forgiving, clearing the air, or calling truces. I had a feeling Jacob secretly enjoyed the tension and the energy that went with being at odds with someone. It was his own personal Cold War. Everyone constantly on edge, a fight waiting to break out at any damn moment. It was terrifying in some ways, and invigorating in others.

I hated it about him, because I’d spent my whole life under duress. Now, I wouldn’t mind a few moments between the tension where everyone just fucking got along.

That being said, I wasn’t sure I really bought this whole “truce” thing. It was out of character enough that I couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t Axel who had tried to set it up. Maybe he was trying to get the guys to let the whole thing go?

I hoped, and that was the only reason that I texted Jacob back, letting him know I’d be there.

***

Club headquarters was an auto garage that specialized in repairing foreign cars. At least, on the surface that was what the shop was known for. It was actually a chop shop. We boosted cars, then dropped them off at the garage to be stripped down, torn apart, and reassembled as new, untraceable cars. Sometimes, we just sold the parts. Either way, it was as illegal as fuck, and if Axel had been traced back to the shop and the feds found out what actually went down here, we’d have all been hauled in.

But Axel wouldn’t talk, not even to save his own skin. It was what made him a good leader and what kept the rest of us loyal. Hard not to trust a man who was willing to take a hit for everyone else.

It was late when I drove up on my bike to the warehouse. The lights were dim, but definitely on, the fluorescents shining out through the dirt covered, grimy windows that lined the front garage doors. I spotted Jacob’s bike nearby, so I parked beside him. I cut the engine and slid off my bike, heading inside.

I’d spent a lot of time in the garage, working as a mechanic in the back during the day while the place was doing legitimate business, then working late into the night while we took care of our illegal activities. I was good at both, though I hadn’t boosted cars in a long time. After hitting thirty, it wasn’t nearly as much fun as it used to be. Now, I preferred working with the cars, getting under the hood and fiddling with the guts. Fast cars were still entertaining, but it wasn’t like what it was when I was eighteen, nineteen, twenty years old.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The lights were dim even inside, only the overhanging ones on as opposed to the long bar florescent lights that we usually used when we were working. It gave the place an eerie, dead feel. Like I wasn’t supposed to be there.

Frowning, I glanced behind me and wondered if the unease tripping up my spine wasn’t an indication for me to leave.

Before I could decide, I heard Jacob’s voice call out, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

I turned back to face him. He was standing beneath one of the lights, the hanging light casting shadows across his features, making him look like a hollow man, He grinned and it wasn’t a flattering thing in that moment.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Figured you were smarter than that,” he told me, and I had half a second to figure out what he was talking about before the first swing came.

I moved fast enough that I didn’t catch it in the head, but just barely. I lifted my left arm high and managed to block the hit, but since it was a metal pipe coming down on me hard, the throbbing pain in my arm was instantaneous. I gritted my teeth against it, forcing myself to ignore it, because if there was one hit, then another was coming.

Sure enough, the next one came from my right side and caught me in the shoulder. That was when I started to count my assailants. Jacob hadn’t come alone, clearly. There was a guy on either side of me, and a quick glance over my shoulder told me that there were two behind me as well. Jacob still stood in front of me and now I saw that he had brass knuckles tucked into his fist. Beside him another man walked up.

The next hit came from behind, coupled with a second try from the guy on the left. I managed to get a hold of the metal pipe swinging towards my left, but I couldn’t dodge the fist to my side at the same time. Pain surged along the bottom of my ribs, but I ignored it.

I jerked at the metal pipe, trying to wring it from the guy’s grasp, but then I took a solid punch to the face, causing me to step back. I threw my fist wildly towards one of the guys—any of them at this point—and felt it connect with flesh. One of the guys cursed, though I couldn’t tell which one, but it didn’t stop the onslaught.

A bar swung against my ribs and I felt something crack. I took another hit to the face and tasted blood—either leaking from my nose or from the inside of my mouth, I couldn’t tell which. I grabbed a hold of one of them and started pounding, my fist connecting over and over again with this guy’s face as he squirmed and cried out, all the while I was kicked, punched, and beaten.

I was a tough guy, but even I didn’t stand a chance with six against one. By the time someone kicked at the side of my knee, sending me spiraling to the floor, I was already half done with the fight, and not because I was winning.

Coughing up blood, I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. These guys thought I was a rat, the reason that Axel was put in prison, and that meant that they had absolutely no qualms with putting me in my place. Permanently.

Maybe this beating was only meant to rough me up, but given Jacob’s need for violence and his utter lack of self-control, there was a good chance that he was good with killing me, too.

I reached out as the kicks came and grabbed one of their legs. With all my strength, I jerked, causing the man to set off balance and tumble to the concrete. I pulled him on top of me, using him as a human shield to block the blows, several of them hitting him before they realized he was there instead of me. Using that slight pause, I socked him hard in the face, catching him just right in the chin to bring him to unconsciousness. From there, I used him like a bowling ball, shoving him and rolling him into the legs of the other guys. One of them grabbed me by the collar, aiming a hard fist at my face, but I used his stance to kick him over the top of me. He landed hard on his back and I twisted out of his grasp.

It was enough to let me get up. I was bloody, bruised, and had more than a couple broken ribs, I thought, but I was up and running before they could grab me and pull me back down. They shouted, called out to me, cursed my name, but I was too far ahead of them. I slammed into the door and burst out into the night air.

I made it to my bike and had it revved before they could reach me. I took off into the night, trying not to swallow too much of my own blood.