Burned: Devil's Blaze MC Book 2 Page 10

  “Jealous, sweetness? All you have to do is say the word.”

  “What word would that be? Male whore? Oh wait, that’s two words.”

  He leans into the table. I can’t stop my eyes from locking onto his green ones. He really is like a giant man-child and I would love to get caught up in this happy enthusiasm that he has bundled up inside of him. I think it’s what drew me to him in the first place.

  “I didn’t see you complaining about me when you were opening your legs and begging me inside,” he says, and his voice changes. He’s not happy-go-lucky right now, not even a little bit. Now, he’s pissed. His eyes sparkle, but there’s anger in them.

  Gee. Did I hit a sore spot? He can go fuck himself if he thinks I’ll apologize. I shrug. That’s the only response he gets. I ignore the part of me that wants to apologize and laugh again. That part is what got me in this mess. I need to get back to Beth, not get caught up trying to… shit, I’m not even sure what I’d be trying to do. Torch was a one-night stand. A bad decision. A really bad decision, that’s all he is and all he will ever be.

  My mind’s made up. We finish eating our meal in silence.

  “If you keep giving that fucking trucker those looks, I’m going to tan your hide, Katie,” I warn her after she smiles at the trucker in question for like the hundredth time. She’s clearly offering him a taste of her honey and the fucker is all set to take her up on that. I may have to kill the asshole before it’s done.

  She looks at me innocently. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play stupid. You know what the fuck you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

  “Maybe I’m just finding my good time tonight, since you’re planning one already.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I told you, the only dick you have on the menu for the foreseeable future is mine. So if you need cock, you tell me. Other than that, you’re in for a bit of a dry spell.”

  “That’s not hardly fair, is it?”

  I lean into her because I like that her eyes are on me. I enjoy that I’m the fucker who holds her attention. Most of all, I like that she’s not looking at that hairy fucker sitting across from us.

  “It doesn’t have to be fair. It just has to be true. Which it is. You know what I think your problem is, Katydid?”

  “I told you to stop with that horrible nickname. But please, do tell me what my problem is. Unless it’s you insisting on dragging me back to Kentucky and closer to the men who want me and my sister dead, because I already know that problem, stud.”

  “You’ve run too wild. You need a man who can contain you. Show you boundaries while also showing you how fucking far your body can stretch to receive the pleasure it’s capable of.”

  “Let me guess. You’re the man to do that?”

  “I’ve never wanted to be. That kind of training takes longer than I’ve wanted to invest before, but…” I trail off, studying her face. She’s beautiful. I can see something flare in her eyes at my sentence. I’m not sure what it is, but I’d like to pretend it’s hope.

  “But?”

  “But I think, with you, I’d like to play a lot longer than my usual timespan.”

  “Timespan?” she asks, taking a drink of her soda. “Do tell, what is your usual timespan?”

  “Few days. Couple weeks at most. You’re different, Katie. I think I could take my time with you and not grow bored. At least, for a month or two,” I admit. I’m being totally sincere, which is fucking hard for me, to be honest. I don’t know what it is about Katie, but I do know I want more time with her.

  “Be still my beating heart. Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?”

  “What? You can’t tell me you ever envisioned being with the same person for more than a couple of months.”

  “Maybe I have. Maybe I want the white picket fence, babies, and a minivan. The whole damn thing. What makes you say that I don’t?”

  “Because you’re too much like me.”

  This time, it’s her who leans in closer, and those gray eyes get that stormy look again that I’m coming to crave. Usually that look means she’s horny. This time, it’s something else: a deep emotion that she doesn’t mean to let me see. But I do.

  “Maybe the reason I appear not to want the normal things any girl does is because it’s not in the cards for me.”

  “Tell me another one. Any man you smile at would want to give that to you.”

  “Says the man who’s intent on taking me to someone who wants me dead.”

  “Skull isn’t planning to do that. He won’t let anything happen to you.” I won’t let anything happen to you, I add silently.

  “Your faith in Skull would warm me, if I didn’t know what a miserable fucker he is. I need to use the restroom.”

  I want to growl, but I let it go. It is what it is, and there’s not much I can do to change the path we’re on. I throw some money down for the food, plus a tip for the waitress. “Let’s go.”

  We walk towards the back of the diner where the bathrooms are located. When we pass the trucker’s table on the opposite side of the aisle, it might be my imagination, but I can totally admit I’m fucking jealous, which is upsetting enough. But when we walk by, it seems like Katie’s steps slow down, extending the time she comes in contact with the other man.

  “Hey there, little lady,” the guy says as we pass. I already have Katie by the hand, but I move my hold up to her shoulder so there’s no mistaking my message.

  “The little lady has a man,” I growl, and it’s fucking true. At least for now, damn it. He needs to know, that son of a bitch, as long as Katie doesn’t undermine my fucking claim.

  “Hi,” she whispers with a giggle. A fucking giggle!

  I practically pull her away from the damned table. She’s been walking better today, but she stumbles twice as I pull her. I don’t give a fuck. I want her to do her business and then get her the fuck away from that asshole. Then, if I don’t change my mind, I’m going to spank her ass so red that she won’t be able to sit down for a fucking month without crying out. Damned cock tease. It was bad enough when it was me she did that shit to, but I will not have her trying to get another man’s attention. Fuck no!

  I open the door to the one-stalled bathroom and practically shove her inside. “Get done. You have five minutes tops, then I’ll come in after you. If I have to do that, Katie, you won’t like it,” I threaten, slamming the door shut.

  I wait against it. I wait longer than five minutes, which makes me a liar. But, motherfucker, I need to get a hold of myself. She’s been in there a good ten minutes when I hear her gasp, followed by a loud noise I can’t really describe. I start banging on the door. “Katie, you need to get your ass out of there or I’ll break the motherfucking door down. We need to get going.”

  “I don’t like the way you’re talking to that girl,” the trucker from earlier says.

  He’s standing in front of me, apparently taking it on his own to follow us back here and check on Katie. Well, hell, it looks like I’m going to have to beat the asshole down. I’m not worried. I’m pretty sure I can take him… until two of his butt-buddies join him. The three of them look at me like I’m next on their list of things to fuck up.

  If I survive this shit, I’m going to strangle Katie.

  I think I’m losing my touch. I gave that trucker enough of an invitation that he really should’ve walked over. He didn’t. That’s Torch’s fault too, since he looks pretty damn formidable. Well, if you discard his damn t-shirts.

  Shit. I have to get away. I have to.

  There’s a tiny fucking window in here that is way too small for my ass, and he’ll give up waiting on me at any moment. I try to push it open, but it’s not budging. My finger snags on the rusty metal handle and it stings like hell. It starts bleeding right away. I’ll probably die of tetanus and it’ll be all the asshole’s fault.

  I take a deep breath and try to look around for something, anything, that can help me get away from hi
m. As if he can hear my thoughts, he pounds on the door, yelling. I ignore him. I have to think.

  That’s when I hear him. A second voice; I’m almost sure it’s the trucker. Now’s my chance. I need to make sure when I come out that I get him completely on my side. I can’t take the chance that Torch will talk the Trucker into his side. The man has a golden tongue… in more ways than one.

  I look in the mirror above the sink. I look down at my Black Crowes t-shirt and mourn losing it. I pull at the collar. Luckily, I had already taken scissors to it and made it into a V cut. I hate the round collars that most t-shirts spout; it feels like it chokes me, and Lord knows I’ve had that feeling enough—I don’t need it from my clothes. I rip it so it falls down on my shoulder, enough to show the silky red bra beneath, because let’s face it, men get distracted by boobs. Satisfied with that, I muss up my hair just a little. At first, I grieved losing my blonde locks. The longer I have this dark color, the more I like it. I doubt I’ll ever go back. Not to mention, I like looking different from Bethie. With that done, I look a little roughed up, but it’s not enough. I need signs of violence. Torch is talking to the trucker. I need to hurry before the trucker leaves.

  I take a deep breath, make a tight fist like I learned in self-defense class, then hit myself along my jaw and the corner of my mouth. Jesus. Okay, that hurt, but I know I’ve pulled my punch some. I don’t really like pain. Isn’t that ironic? After three more punches, I can see the red inflamed skin. Eventually, it will swell. That’ll work, except for…

  I take my ring off. It’s a small diamond surrounded by pearl petals so that it looks like a daisy. It was a gift from Bethie during our first Christmas together after she found me. I use the diamond to cut the corner of my lip. It doesn’t bleed much, just a little bit. It’s enough though, because I’m about two steps away from joining the crazy train now. I use the blood from the finger I cut earlier and smear extra along the bottom of my lip making it look like it’s bleeding a lot. One last look in the mirror and then I walk to the door.

  “She’s my woman,” I hear Torch say.

  “Didn’t look to me like she wanted to be your woman anymore.”

  “It’s just a lover’s tiff. She’s mad I forgot her birthday. It’s not bad enough she’s busting my balls over that, but she’s also on the rag. You know how women get.”

  “Yeah, I guess…”

  Fuck. I knew he’d talk his way out of it. I guess it’s show time. I put both hands on the door, take a deep breath, then push it open.

  I’ve just about gotten the guy calmed down, and the other two seemed to have relaxed as well. They’re about to go back into the dining area of the store when Katie opens the door.

  Only she doesn’t look like she did when she went in. Someone beat the hell out of her. I’m about to charge into the bathroom and find out what the fuck is going on. I thought it was empty, but obviously it wasn’t. I’m going to kill a motherfucker for even thinking about putting their hands on her. One thing stops me—and it stops me cold.

  “I’m here, I’m here… Just please don’t hurt me again,” she says, her voice breaking, her eyes bright. She looks so pitiful and frail standing there like that with unshed tears and her body trembling. I know I’m going to kill someone, until it clicks in my head: she’s talking to me.

  I’m slow because it doesn’t take He-Man and his buddies as long to figure it out. I know this because a fist barrels into my nose as I’m making these observations. Motherfucking son of a milk cow! A fist slams into me, spraying blood from my nose. I hear a crunch in my ears. Skull and the brothers would have my fucking ass for being caught so unawares. I can’t help it, though; my brain was all about Katie being hurt. How the fuck was I supposed to know that the bitch was setting me up?

  I know it now, though. There’s not a doubt in my mind. I can see her out of the corner of my eye, curled into one of the other men, scared to death. Looking at her cost me as I’m cross-cut with another left. Fucking bloody hell!

  That’s it. I’m going to tear this asshole’s arms off and beat him to death with them, then I’m going to strangle that damned brunette.

  I deliver a blow to the gut. When he bends down to protect his weakness, I deliver shot after shot under his chin and to his face. He backs up a good five feet because he wasn’t expecting me to fight back so violently. I don’t have my cut on because I’m trying not to broadcast I’m in the area, so motherfucker has no idea who he’s dealing with. I could eat men like him for breakfast and spit on his grave. I’m feeling pretty fucking great about it because Goliath here falls back against the wall, going down for the count. I’m about to turn my attention back to Katie when I’m brought to my knees with a heavy thud on my head. The room swirls in circles and goes precariously gray. I try to fight through it. I can’t go down like this. I can’t lose Katie. That’s not an option. I try to fight, but I’m sinking further down, falling on the concrete floor with a thud.

  I look up. My vision is blurry and I’m seeing double, but one of the truckers is standing over me with a huge metal rack in his hand and there’s sales books all around the ground. The fucker hit me from behind with a magazine rack?? That was a punk-ass move, getting me from behind like that. I’ll remember that for when I get up from here to kill the son of a bitch.

  “Is he alright? Oh my God, did you kill him?” Katie’s voice reaches me. I’d like to think that’s real fear in her voice, but I know better. After all, I’m in this situation because of her, the lying little cunt. I’ll make her pay too, as soon as the room stops spinning. And what’s with all the gray?

  I’m losing focus. Son of a bitch, nothing I can do will bring it back. I know I’m going out. I keep trying to fight it, but it’s pointless. My eyes flutter closed and, right before I go out, I see Katie walking out with one of the fuckers. She looks over the man’s shoulder at me and I think she’s mouthing the words, I’m sorry. I can’t be sure.

  It doesn’t matter. When I catch up to her, she will be sorry; that much I can guarantee.

  Guilt is eating me up inside and I hate it! I never meant for Torch to get so hurt. I hope he’s okay. Surely someone has found him by now. Probably that damned waitress who was already panting after him and drooling. Somehow, I ended up with a different trucker than my original mark. I liked the first guy; he had a kindness in his eyes. Torch managed to take him down though and that left me with Mr. Hands over here.

  I’ve gone along with him though because after everything I’ve done, I need to get away from Torch. I have to get to Bethie, but more than that, Torch is going to be pissed as hell at me. If he gets a hold on me again, I’ll never get away. He has a right to be pissed, I guess, but he was holding me captive! He was forcing me into a situation that would put my niece and my sister in danger, and he wouldn’t even try to understand. He’s an asshole and I should not be feeling guilt.

  I try to breathe and consider my next move. When I climbed up into the rig, Mr. Hands made a big show of helping to boost me up. In reality, it was just so his hand could cup my ass, hence the nickname I gave him. Since then though, he’s been okay. I’m just letting him drive and tell me about how little women like me need to be careful, how I need a man to protect me, and how if he was my man, he’d spoil me like a queen. Do women really fall for this stuff? I don’t get it.

  Then again, I’ve never had use for a man past one night. Never even thought about it. I ignore the way an image of Torch comes to mind. Okay, so I thought of keeping him longer than one night. I would have never done it. Never. He’s a player and I will never fall under the spell of a man like Bethie did. Never. Did I mention never? Because it’s true. Definitely true. Never, ever, ever. Freaking never!

  “Wait. What are you doing?”

  “You’re too keyed up, sweetness. I’ll show you how a real man works that out of you. Then, we’ll see about getting you some clothes.”

  Fuck! Suddenly, I’m reminded of how my shirt is ripped and my bra shows through. I’m al
so reminded of Torch calling me “sweetness” and how I kind of like it, but when this guy says it, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

  While I’m reminded of all this, Mr. Hands is pulling off into a seedy motel. If this is how he treats the women in his life that he wants to make his queen, it’s no fucking wonder the man is single. Though, I bet if the truth was known, he has some poor schmuck of a wife sitting at home who has no idea what her man is up to while on the road.

  “Listen, I appreciate your help, but I’m not going into that motel with you. This is where I find another ride,” I tell him, and before he can say anything else, I unlatch my seatbelt, open my door, and climb down.

  I’m thankful I have my boots on because, honestly, I’ve done more on my leg in the last few days than I have in months. The pain is constant, but I’ve dealt with it, and my boots give me extra support which helps. Still, when I jump from the bottom step of the eighteen-wheeler to the ground, I land wrong and my ankle curls. Pain shoots up my bad leg and it’s so fucking intense that I cry out.

  “Whoa there! I got you. You should have waited on me. A woman like you with that fine little body, you aren’t made to handle big rigs like this,” Mr. Hands says, and surprise, his hands go around me and hold me by my ass.

  I jerk away from him. “I’m fine. Like I said, this is a no-go for me. I’m going to go find a different ride. Thanks for your help back there, but I think I’m done with men for a while.”

  I push away from him and turn to walk back to the road. Hopefully the next person to pick me up won’t be some horny trucker with an overactive libido. Or an axe murderer; not really wanting that either. I make it a few steps when he grabs me from behind. This time, his hands are on my boobs. What is it with my luck lately?

  “I’ve got a ride for you, sweetness. I got a nice long hard ride for you.”