Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (27 page)

He was a little surprised when she eventually came back into the room. It proved to him how strong she was, and he scolded himself for not giving her enough credit. Damn, but she was tough. She held out a water to him, and he placed his hand over hers on the bottle. He used that touch to hold her in place for a moment, and then released her to give her a choice of where to sit again. Still dressed only in his shirt, she crawled up the bed and sat near his hip this time.

Tipping her open bottle of water to her lips, she gave him a long view of her throat working and swallowing.
God, that was so sexy
. He groaned and cursed silently, feeling the cloth stirring over his lap. He was half-afraid she’d look down and see how hard he was, and he didn’t want her to think it was the story that affected him this way. It was simply being near her.

Plucking the continuing thread of the story from the air, she began again, “Ray wasn’t always cruel, and that’s what made it hard to figure out what to do. I know it sounds strange, but he was so sorry in-between times, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I know now it was his way of handling me, of controlling me, but that didn’t help at the time, because I didn’t have a clue. One time, a doctor who treated me helped me see what was happening, and I tried to leave Ray then. That was early on.

“Ray found me though, and took me back, and you can’t imagine how bad that was. He told me he knew where to find my family, knew who my clients were, and I’d never be free of him. It was like he owned me; it felt like there was no way out. It’s hard to remember I was only seventeen. I still hate how I was with him, who I became.” Daniel reached out his hand, slowly stroking his fingers across the back of hers and up her arm, continuing that caress as she kept talking.

“Late in the summer, I wound up in the Wichita ER again, and that same doctor saw me and offered to help. He arranged the return of my rig, horses, and gear back home. Then, he put me on a plane to Springfield; his brother is a professor there. The UI dorms opened the next day, and he had made some calls to the college on my behalf. He saved me. I told him about the threats, and he gave me a chance to move on in anonymity by getting me to a place away from everything I’d ever known. I took that chance in both hands and ran with it. I’ve tried to never second guess it. I heard from Daddy later that Ray went to Longview looking for me. I bet it’s no surprise they got along real well.” She made a disgusted face. “Daddy wanted me to come home then. He didn’t know where I was; no one did, and I kept it that way.”

She looked at Daniel. “Until I let my brother move in up here, no one in the family knew where I was. I’ve gone thirteen years without seeing my baby sister, unless we met up in some strange city where she was competing, but never home, never back there. That’s what fear does to a person; it tears them away from everything. Emily knew; she visited me a while back, and she wanted my forgiveness for what had happened.”

A sob broke free from her throat. “Can you imagine? She wanted
my
forgiveness for how the biddies talked to me after I testified at Daddy’s trial. We settled on forgiving each other for everything and anything we could think of. We had a really good weekend together. It’s hard to think she’s gone now, but I know how things can keep wearing away at you from the inside. I’m not mad at her. I know those hidden, unseen scars are the foulest, wickedest things. They haul on your soul until it’s unmoored inside you, and there’s not anything you can do to draw it back down to safe anchor. It’s not that you want to die so much as…it simply becomes too painful to keep living.”

She took in a deep, quavering breath. “Everything is a mess right now, you know? After Em died, Michael came to Chicago and stayed with me for a bit. Then Jack Peters showed up in my office out of the blue, and now…Ray is here, too. After thirteen years, everything I have been afraid of seems to be happening. It feels like my life is falling to pieces around me. I don’t know what to do, and I’m afraid. I can’t do that again; I can’t become that person. I’ve given up so much already. I don’t want to lose the life I’ve built here.” Hanging her head. “I’m so tired, Daniel, so tired and scared.”

He pulled at her hand, tugging her into his side and letting her find her own place along his length. She wound herself around him with her head on his thighs facing him. Her ponytail was pulled over her shoulder, with her knees pushing into the pillows at his back as she looked up into his face. “Oh, sweetie,” he said simply, “what can I do?”

37 -
            
Indisposed

The next morning, Daniel finished his work obligations and left for practice before noon. He was meeting the team at the rink for lunch, and wouldn’t be back until late. The girls were all up by the time he left, and munched on the snacks in the suite. Now, several hours later, boredom had set in, and arguing wasn’t far behind.

“No. No. No. I don’t think we can discount anything right now, and that means you don’t go out. Period,” Jess was yelling, pushing her face up into Mica’s and trying to get her point across. She started counting on her fingers, “One—your brother is an ass. Two—you were nearly kidnapped the same day you happened to kick said brother out of your house. Three—someone is stalking you with a camera, showing up at all the important places in your life, which is pretty damned scary.” She increased in volume as she went on, “Four—your evil ex-boyfriend is in Chicago. Five—he knew enough about you to know about Gentry.” Flopping back against the kitchen cabinet and sticking her tongue out at Mica, she summarized, “I think the verdict is pretty clear; you are stuck with me and Brandy for now.”

Pushing away from the sink, where she’d been leaning during Jess’ tirade, Mica smiled tiredly at her friend. “You know I love you, but you are the biggest pain in the butt I know. I’m not going ‘out’ out, I’m going to the lounge on the bottom floor of the hotel. There’s a world of difference. Daniel will be back in a couple hours, and I will be back up here by then. I’m tied in knots and need out of these walls. I’ll be back soon; I promise.” The last was said as she walked across the room, grabbing her wallet out of her purse. She waved to Brandy sitting in front of the TV on her way out.

Pulling open the door to walk into the foyer, she ran into someone and bounced back a half-step with a grunt. “Excuse me,” she said. She looked up at the expanse of man-back in front of her, muttering, “Jeeze-oh-PETE.” She stepped around the man, who turned quickly to face her.

“Ms. Scott, where are you going?” he asked with a voice that sounded like gravel in a cement truck. He was wide, but muscular, and she noticed with some amusement that his neck was nearly too big for the shirt and tie he wore, but the jacket was very nice, tailored. She thought it would have to be tailored; surely nothing off-the-rack would fit this guy.

Stalking around him to the elevator, she slapped the call button; glad to see the car was only a couple of floors below. “Out,” she muttered, tapping her foot irritably, “I’m going out.” The mountain of a man waited beside her, still as a deep water lake. She smiled as his easy manner slowly leached over her, lapping and eating away at her impatience.

When the car doors opened, he stepped in front of her, going into the car first and then stood near the control panel. “Where to, ma’am?” he asked, his finger poised over the buttons, and she noticed he had
Live free
tattooed on his knuckles. There were the edges of tattoos peeking out from underneath his cuffs, too.

“You can’t go with me. Don’t you need to stay in the foyer?” She was puzzled at his abandonment of what she had come to think of as the bodyguard’s post.

“Ma’am, I go where you go,” he said simply, “so where are we going?”

“Is this Daniel’s doing?” she asked, her voice rising irritably at the end.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. My orders come from Mason.” With this, he grinned at her, spreading his hands wide. “Please don’t make me look bad in front of the Prez; I’m just a prospect.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” she muttered. “Push for the lobby. I want a drink,” she looked at him hard, “and stop calling me
ma’am
. I can’t be much older than you are.” She turned to face the front of the elevator. He pressed the appropriate button on the panel and stepped into the center of the elevator. His movement forced her to take a step back and put him squarely between her and the door. “Jeeze-oh-PETE,” she said under her breath again. Looking up into his face with its dark, scruffy beard and high cheekbones, topped by a head full of dark, short hair, she asked, “Hey, you, mountain man—what’s your name?”

***

Seated by herself at a table near the back of the lounge, Mica watched as another man turned away from approaching her, and knew that Kevin had probably shaken his head at him…or maybe he had simply turned his head to show the tribal tattoo on the side of his face…or more probably, he had scowled the guy into submission. The mountain had been doing that for nearly two hours, not-so-subtly discouraging would-be visitors with his fierce protection of her.

“Kevin, you need to stop that,” she said over her shoulder to the wall of muscles behind her. “Maybe I wanted to talk to that one, hmmm? He was pretty brave; he got within 20 feet, after all.”

He grinned at her, shaking his head. “No, ma’am, not that one.”

Sipping what she thought might still be her second glass of tequila, or maybe her third, she grinned. She had actually been pretty impressed with Kevin’s unruffled attitude all afternoon. She liked him; he was quiet and calm, and she couldn’t be angry with him. Now Mason, that was another story; she could be riled up at Mason. After all, he was the one that sicced Kevin on her in the first place.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, simultaneously announcing a text and startling the heck out of her. She’d forgotten about bringing it down with her. She noticed Kevin had shifted his stance; he was on the balls of his feet, tense and hovering over her now, and he was looking hard at something across the room.

Ignoring him, she pulled the phone from her pocket to read the message, and saw
WHERE ARE YOU?
from Mason.
Awww, how cute, the man knows how to text in all-caps
, she thought. She could almost hear him yelling at her. She typed in,
Drinkin’—you?
and hit send, giggling.

“Uh, ma’am,” Kevin said in a warning tone as both their phones went off at nearly the same time. She had a new message from Mason, and one from Daniel.

“I have a two-fer; how about you?” she asked Kevin, and he watched her scroll to see the message contents. From Daniel, she’d received a pleasant,
I’m back. Are you in the lounge still?
and from Mason, a more demanding,
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

“What did yours say?” she asked Kevin, who responded, “Just one word from Mason, ma’am—‘where’. I let him know we’re here in the lounge.”

Idly, she said, “Don’t call me
ma’am
.”

Mica created a group text, sending the same message to Mason, Daniel, and Jess at the same time.
I’m sitting in the lounge with a huge mountain, who won’t let anyone talk to me. I think I’m okie-dokies.
She hit send, giggling again. Looking down at her phone, she didn’t see the crowd parting across the room, and she missed Kevin taking a step back at the sight of Mason barreling towards her table. Kevin cleared his throat loudly, and she looked up to catch Mason’s eyes. She smiled at him, which served to slow his step, and fairly effectively disarmed his rant before he even began.

Arriving in front of her, Mason nodded at Kevin. She smiled as Mason leaned across the table and clasped his forearm in a strong shake, letting Kevin know he had done well. Mason grabbed a chair and turned it around to sit down facing her. He sat with his arms crossed on the back of it, and his back to the room. Mica knew he was making a statement that he trusted Kevin to watch his back.

“Babe?” He filled that one word with his fear and anxiety for her, breathing out deeply.

“Oh, stop it, Mason,” she chided. “Kevin has done a great job of keeping me company, even if he did nearly ‘ma’am’ me to death.”

He looked up at the man behind her, questioning, “Kevin?” and raising one eyebrow.

Looking somewhat sheepish, Kevin said, “That’s my given name, Prez. I prefer Meek around the club.”

Mica clapped both of her hands over her mouth quickly, giggling madly as she twisted in her chair to look up at the big man behind her. Struggling to regain her self-control, she peeled her hands away slowly as her laughter slowed. “Your biker name is Meek?” Her hands flew up as she went off into peals of muffled giggles again. “
Meek?
Oh, Kevin,” she said, “you are anything but meek. The way you scowled so professionally for hours in order to protect my virtue—not meek.” Giggling madly, another, “Meek,” was followed up by more uncontrollable laughter, and Meek was finally beginning to look less calm and quiet. “
Meep, Meep
,” she forced out, before laying her head on the table in helpless hilarity. “Oh, God, make it stop.” She attempted to sober, saying, “I, Mica Scott, do hereby dub thee Road Runner.” She visibly held her breath, turning bright red before she lost control again, and more giggling was followed by a frantic repeat of, “Meep, meep.”

Rolling his eyes at her, Mason gave her a few minutes to compose herself. He listened with a grin as her giggles would trail off, getting slower and slower until he could hear one more faint, “Meep, meep,” from behind her hands, and it would set her off again. He picked up her glass and finished off her tequila, looking away and grinning as he heard another, “Meep, meep,” and more breathless laughter.