Simple Ride (Hellions Ride Book 6) (6 page)

She tenses under me at the mention of
him. Ah, good to know he still has some effect on her.

She blinks slowly as if fighting some
emotion. “Ex-husband and ex-cop.”

“
Where is he now? Where are
his sons?”

Panic fills her eyes. “Sons?” she
asks, and that’s when I realize it isn’t her. “Henley and I didn’t
have kids. He’s remarried with a little girl. I’m not the one with
the secrets you should be digging into.”

I jerk off of her harshly.

If it isn’t her, then who is it? A
thought hits me. It can’t be. No way would she have that kind of
secret.

At the same time, I begin to think it,
Keri moves to stand. Her soft hand reaches out, and she rubs the
side of my beard gently.

“
You should be keeping
Pamela close right now. You should be asking her the questions
you’re asking me. I’m sorry, Boomer.”

Anger, fury, and rage—I see red as I
am consumed in madness. I pull her hand off my face, jerking her up
as I do, and put back her to the wall as Rex moves out of the
way.

“
She’s not here; you are.
What do you know?”

Fear fills her eyes again. She should
be afraid. She has kept secrets from the club, secrets that could
have Pamela in danger.

“
I don’t know much. A man
found me outside of Ruthless the night before we hooked up last. He
tried to pay for sex. When I said no, that we are for the club, he
asked about special pussy, marked pussy, where he could find marked
pussy.”

The truth hits me like a wrecking
ball. Marked pussy. Pamela’s tattoo covers scars; I have felt
them.

Keri keeps talking while my mind
spins.

“
I said, if he’s looking
for hookers, he needs to go to the city, not out here. He said he
was exactly where he needed to be; he just needed a release before
he found his woman again. He rambled about a wife named Pamela and
two sons. He was half-crazy.”

“
Half-crazy and you didn’t
think to tell a brother?” I roar.

“
I told you people had
secrets. You’ve got a thing for Purple Pussy Pamela, so I figured
you would seek her out and sort this.”

Fucking Pamela… What the hell kind of
baggage does she have?

~Pamela~

Ruthless is slow, and I am thankful
for that.

Corinne is behind the bar. I look at
her, the closest thing I have to a real friend, and hate myself. I
should have told her. I should have told someone.

“
Hey girl, what’s up?” she
greets as I slide onto a barstool.

“
Can I borrow your phone to
make a call? Mine is dead,” I ask, knowing this is my only hope. If
Dennis is watching me, I can’t use my phone to check in. I have a
burner phone, but I don’t want him to get suspicious.

“
Sure. It’s in my purse in
the office.” She smiles then moves to wipe down the bar.

I make my way to the back, shutting
the office door behind me. He can’t see in here. I haven’t seen
anyone around that resembles my ex, but I don’t want to take any
chances.

Not being able to call and verify he
hasn’t gotten to the boys has killed me, but I have to be smart. I
have to stay a step ahead. Maybe all he has is my phone
number.

A girl can dream, right?

I get Corinne’s purse out of the
bottom desk drawer and make the call to the prepaid phone I have
set up for my mom.

“
Hello?” she answers
cautiously.

“
Hey, Ma.” I swallow back
tears from hearing her voice.

“
Pami.” She doesn’t hide
the delight and relief in her tone.

“
He called.”

I hear her gasp into the phone. “We
have to go.” She begins to jump into action.

“
No, you stay put. I think
you’re safe. But I can’t be in contact for a while, and I can’t
send money until I get reestablished somewhere.”

“
Pami, please go to the
police. Get help.”

“
I can’t, Ma. He would
still get visitation, and I don’t want a monster like him around my
boys. I know he will find a way to kill me, anyway, police or no
police. Just keep the boys safe and give them my love.”

“
I’ll die before anyone
gets to them.”

“
I know, Ma. That’s why
they’re with you.” Tears fall down my face. “I love
you.”

“
I love you,
precious.”

“
I’ve gotta go,” I whisper,
not wanting to end the call.

“
I know. Be safe, my
daughter.”

The line goes dead, killing another
piece of my heart.

I miss my boys. I miss my mom.
However, I can’t be with them and keep them away from him. I would
die to give them freedom.

I walk out of the office and bump
right into someone. Backing away, I look up into the dark brown
eyes of a man on a mission.

Boomer.

Dammit, this is not helping
things.

I inhale deeply, taking in the
masculine scent of leather and Boomer. I stop myself from reaching
out to touch him.

He wants to give me more. He wants to
give me himself. Nathan ‘Boomer’ Vaughn thinks he’s a bad man, but
he is really everything a woman could want. Strong, loyal, honest,
caring, and fierce are just a few characteristics that make up the
man behind the cut.

My body and mind come alive whenever
he is near. Today is no different.

“
Where you off to in such a
hurry?” he asks as his eyes bore into mine, seeking
something.

“
I have work to do,” I
stammer, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“
Work, huh?” He is pissed,
but right now, I can’t allow myself to care.

“
Boomer, I don’t have time
for this right now. I’m late to clean a business. I can’t afford to
lose this client,” I lie.

“
I’ll pay double their rate
for an hour,” he says calmly, and I see red.

Reaching back, I swing, not thinking
of the consequences, and slap him across the face.

“
I’m no one’s hooker. Fuck
you, Boomer! Fuck. You!” I storm off as he holds his hand to his
face in shock by my reaction.

I have to get out of here. Boomer was
the only one I thought saw me as more than pussy. He wanted
something real not so long ago. Now I’m just ass he’s willing to
pay for. Well, fuck that and fuck him. I have enough on my
plate.

Why didn’t I just leave when I got the
call? Why did I bother to give Doll notice? It’s not like I’m going
to need references. I need nothing to tie me to North
Carolina.

He found my number; he may have found
me. That means finding my sons will be next.

I cannot and will not let that happen.
With my dying breath, he will not get my boys.

Chapter Six

~Boomer~

What the hell is she running from?
During all this time we have been together—not just fucking, but
pillow talk and what I would consider a developing relationship—how
could she not know I would help her? How can she think for one
second the club wouldn’t back her?

It hits me—she’s not
claimed.

I offered her that spot. I have been
with my fair share of women, but none have been like a balm to my
wounded soul like Pamela. Now something is going on, and she won’t
be honest with me.

Why?

A husband? Sons? Is Pamela married
with kids? She doesn’t strike me as the type to leave her kids
behind. She has a soft side, a nurturing side that I don’t think
would allow her to be separated from her kids.

My mind goes crazy with questions
while my cheek stings from her slap.

Did she really think I was offering to
pay her for sex? Is her idea of the man I am that
distorted?

Asshole, most definitely, but scum who
pays for sex, I am not.

I would never think of her like that.
The club doesn’t pay barflies for sexual services. No woman has to
do anything she doesn’t want to. They are given a place to hang
out, plenty of booze to drink. We help them with jobs, help them
have a place to stay, and when they want to, they are around to
fuck whichever available Hellion they choose. The only rule is
don’t mess with the Hellions who have ol’ ladies. The barflies stay
clean, and we help them out. They can leave at any time.

I clutch my chest. She’s going to
leave. I feel it. Dammit, I am fucking this up at every
turn.

“
Boomer,” Shooter calls
out, and I realize I am still standing in the same spot,
dumbfounded. As I turn to him, he studies me. “You feel
it?”

I raise an eyebrow at him in
question.

“
The pull? The drive? The
need? The fire? She yours?” His last question hits me square in the
gut.

“
Abso-fuckin-lutely.” I
feel every bit of it. For the first time since my momma died, I
feel.

Absently, I rub my chest. I fucking
feel it. Pamela better look out because I’m coming for her, and I
expect answers.

He smiles. “Then we need to follow
your woman, not stand here.”

I’ve spent too many years riding
around aimlessly. I’ve spent too much time trying to outrun the
past instead of looking toward the future. Pamela is the only
person in all this time to give me a reason to think about anything
good.

The things I have seen, the things I
have done, they don’t hold me back when she’s around. I get tunnel
vision. I get lost in her. She has this softness to her, this look
in her eyes that tells of a woman who has been through hell and
fought her way out. I know that look. I see it in the mirror every
damn day. Only, I can’t find my way out without her.

Kids? Does she really have
sons?

“
Need intel before we chase
her. She’s running scared. Just need to figure out if it’s from me
or someone else.”

“
I’ll make the call,”
Shooter says, reaching for his phone.

Going to the bar, I slide in front of
Corinne, and she gives me a half smile.

I fucked her a few times before
Pamela. She’s a hellcat in bed. She goes wild, but she gets lost
somewhere in her mind, and it becomes as much a release for her as
me. The connection just doesn’t happen.

She has secrets, too. They all do.
Keri was right about that. Only, their secrets don’t bother me.
Pamela’s do.

Could she have a husband? In all this
time we have shared together, I know she is the kind of woman you
bring home to your mom. She knows how to be a lady on your arm and
the mistress in your sheets. I have a hard time believing my Purple
Pussy Pamela would make a lifelong commitment and not stand by
it.

Marked
pussy
… The words come back to my
mind.

I have spent countless hours with my
face between those thighs, my lips on those lips, and my tongue
diving deep into her core. Each of those orange polka dots is over
raised flesh—marked flesh.

Marked pussy.

Bile builds up in my throat, but I
swallow it down. He marked her lips. Did he do the tattoo? Or is
that her way of hiding him?

Although Corinne sets a beer in front
of me, I can’t bring myself to touch it.

“
What did she want?” I ask,
trying to stop my stomach from churning.

“
She needed to use my
phone.”

“
I need your phone then and
the last call you made.”

She shakes her head yet moves for me
to know she is giving in. I follow her back to the office where she
hands me the device. It is still mildly wet, probably from the
tears Pamela was fighting to push back.

Who did she call? Why was she
crying?

I go through the call log … Last call,
Devlin. I look at the time. Three hours ago.

Not her call.

In frustration, I throw the phone. It
hits the back wall, and Corinne runs after it. The screen is
cracked, and she looks ready to kill.

Well, guess what? So am I!

I open my wallet and toss out five
hundred dollars. “If that’s not enough, I’ll get you more later.
I’ve gotta find your friend.”

I don’t wait for her to reply. I don’t
give a shit. Pamela was smart to delete the call. But why was it
necessary?

What makes a woman hide so much? What
makes a woman who is as loyal, as I have learned she is, leave a
husband?

Did she dupe me? Was it all a façade,
or is she in trouble?

The man on the phone had no problems
threatening me. He knows nothing of the trained killing machine I
am, yet he had the balls to threaten me. She has marks on her pussy
lips from him, no doubt about it.

Rage consumes me. I see
red.

He hurt her. He hurt her in the most
damaging ways imaginable. And in all this time, she has held onto
her secrets, her pain. She held it in. She has given me an outlet.
Time and again, she has been there for me to get lost in or simply
to be with. However, she has kept her own struggles to herself. She
has carried her own burdens without anyone to share the
load.