Thrash Read online

  “Where have you been?” he says very slowly. His blue eyes are narrowed, and his strong jaw is covered by facial hair he’s let grow out. Though he commands the attention of everybody in his presence, for once he doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it.

  “I’ve been around,” I say, trying to bite back my anger. “Where have you been?” I may be intimidated by Diesel, but Duke doesn’t scare me. No matter how big and tough he is now, I remember the days when he was just the awkward kid whose face hadn’t grown into his personality yet. And damn it to hell—I had a crush on him even back then.

  “Yeah, you been around, all right, but you ain’t been where you should have,” Duke says. My entire body tenses, and I shoot a questioning glare at Diesel. He lifts his hands and shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t know what’s going on, either, then turns and stares curiously at Duke. At least I’m not the only one not caught up.

  Darren lets out a sigh, and the very reminder of his presence has me taking a step closer to Duke. His eyes narrow in Darren’s direction and move between us. Though my movement was subtle, or so I thought, Duke’s caught on, and well, shit.

  “Who’s this guy?” Duke asks, looking down at me. We’re barely two feet apart now, and, this close up, his question comes across more like an accusation than anything. Suddenly, it feels like I’m back in high school and Darren’s caught on that I hooked up with Ryan while we were broken up—and he isn’t pleased. And unfortunately, that actually happened. I wish I could say that Ryan was a horrible lay, but even back then, that bastard knew how to move.

  “Darren Jennings,” Darren says as he steps forward and introduces himself to Duke and Diesel. Diesel’s playing on his phone and couldn’t care less about what’s going on. I keep shooting him sideways glances to beg him for help, but the few times he’s looked over at me, there’s nothing but amusement on his face. Asshole.

  Darren reaches his hand out, brushing against me, but Duke sneers down at it like Darren’s trying to shake his dick or something. Duke leans in just slightly toward Darren and hooks his arm around my waist, pulling me back, and says, “Too close, dude.”

  Darren raises an eyebrow at that comment. Even though he was born and raised in this town, and the club’s been here longer than he’s been alive, Darren has never understood the fine art of dealing with the outlaw biker club. The more distance Duke puts between me and Darren, the more I’m able to relax, and the more comfortable I feel.

  “Pardon?” Darren says with a raised eyebrow. He drops his hand and takes half a step back. “I’m speaking with an old friend, and who might you be?”

  My eyes widen as Duke chuckles heartily from behind me. Oh, maybe if I’m lucky Duke will beat the crap out of him.

  Diesel strains his neck, curses, and then shoves his phone back in his pocket. He looks at Darren with a flat expression and says, “Dude. I’m in the middle of level ninety-nine of Candy Castle. Now I gotta stop what I’m doing and deal with your mouth. Not cool.”

  “I feel like I’m missing something,” Darren says with a confused look on his face. I bite my tongue to stop myself from telling him to give up the act. He knows damn well who the Forsaken are, and he knows damn well what they can do. But even in Duke’s grasp, where I feel braver than I have in a long time, I don’t have the courage to mouth off to Darren.

  “You see our patches, your hear our bikes, you know who we are,” Diesel says. He lifts his chin at Duke and nods his head toward the back door.

  From behind me, Duke bends at the waist and places his mouth right beside my ear, whispering, “Clubhouse. Ten minutes. You don’t show, and I’m going to hunt your ass down, you got that? It’s been a damn long time, and I’m tired of waiting for your sweet pussy.”

  As much as I want to light into his ass like there’s no tomorrow, I can’t. I have to work here, and that’s assuming Eileen doesn’t fire my ass for all of this shit anyway.

  “Whatever,” I say. I can’t bring myself to agree, and I can’t argue here. Without another word, Duke turns and leaves the shop out the back door. Diesel raises an eyebrow and shrugs his broad shoulders, then follows Duke.

  I’m tempted to say something to Darren, whose eyes are fixated on the back door. Something snippy like ‘Well, it was nice seeing you, jackass’, but I’ve had enough drama for the morning and I’m not up to invite any more. I move quickly around him and slip out of the door. A large hand wraps itself around my upper arm, holding me in place. My chest constricts painfully. For just a moment everything stops. Even my breath.

  “Wait,” he says. “Do you want to have a drink later or something?”

  Darren turns me around, giving me a curious look. My eyes travel down to his hand wrapped around my arm and narrow instantly. Even after all this time, I still don’t like the feeling of him touching me. I pull my arm back and shove my hands in my pockets.

  “Listen, Nic, I didn’t know you two were together,” he says. It takes me a moment to catch on, but when I do, I’m annoyed for a whole other reason. Of course Darren would assume I’m with someone and that’s why I’m less than thrilled about his presence. Never would he consider that I’d like for him to die in a fire. Slowly.

  “I...,” I say and trail off. I don’t know what to tell him. I certainly don’t want to tell him the truth, but denying that anything is going on would be my best bet. Letting Darren think I’m hooked up with Duke would be a convenient excuse to get out of having a drink with him. Because it’s never just one drink with Darren and it’s never easy to tell him no.

  “I don’t want to step on any toes, or get mine broken, but I want to run something by you,” he says. There’s nothing he can run by me that I want to hear. I fold my arms over my chest, which, incidentally, shoves the tops of my exposed tits farther out of my tank top. Darren’s eyes dip to my chest before he lifts his eyes and gives me a flat stare.

  I clamp my mouth shut before I say something I’ll regret.

  “I’m kind of busy,” I lie, “but can I take a rain check?” I take a few steps back, unfold my arms from my chest, and dig around in my purse for my keys.

  “It’s important,” he says. He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. When he lowers his arm, he smiles apologetically. “What I came here to tell you is that I’ve had a lot of time to think about the way things ended between us. We can’t go back, but I want to make it right.” If I could find the person who told him where I work, I could choke the life out of them. Finding my keys I grab a hold of them and give Darren my full attention. I shake my head and clutch the keys with all my might. How dare he think there is any way he can make that shit right? Because he can’t. “I talked to my dad, and he agreed to review your dad’s case and see if he can help get some of the charges dropped, or at least the sentence reduced.”

  My heart swells for just a minute before I remember who I’m talking to. Darren doesn’t do things for people without an end game. He’s as selfish as they come, and a total bastard to boot.

  “The club’s taking care of it,” I say. Because they are, but there’s only so much their expensive-as-fuck attorney can do for Dad after everything he’s done on the club’s behalf since he’s been inside. I can’t believe there’s much Darren’s dad can do to help at this point.

  “Are they? Wasn’t your dad’s attorney that guy who represented Ryan when he made the paper a few years ago?” Darren asks. Of course, if he’s asking this, then he already knows the answer. And he would bring Ryan up. It doesn’t matter that Darren was off fucking around with half of the cheerleading team when I hooked up with Ryan. Ryan took something Darren considered his, and I guess he isn’t letting that grudge go.

  “Roger Sloan,” I say with a slight nod of my head.

  “When is the last time you talked to Roger Sloan?” he asks. I really hate that he’s baited me into a conversation, but now I need to know where this is going.

  “Never,” I admit. “The club’s always handled it.”
/>   “Nicole, I’m sorry, but my dad talked to Roger Sloan yesterday. He said the club hasn’t retained his services in over a year.”

  I shouldn’t believe him. The club is all about brotherhood and family. They do what needs to be done to help one another out. They wouldn’t just leave Dad in there without any help—would they? I shake my head in disbelief. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Whatever I may think about the club and certain members in the club, this isn’t how they work.

  “Hey, I could be wrong,” he says. “I mean, maybe they got a lawyer from another area? My dad hasn’t checked as far south as San Francisco yet.” Something in the way he says that, like he’s trying to be reassuring, but he’s not all at the same time, makes me even more on edge. Not that I like talking to him or spending time with him, but what if he’s telling the truth? What if the club’s figured they’ve done all they can do and now they’ve stopped pouring money down the drain?

  “I’ll go easy on you. How about The 101 Club? That’s your kind of place, isn’t it?” he asks. I have half a mind to be insulted. The 101 Club definitely isn’t Darren’s kind of place. I’m dive bars and stale cigarettes. He’s flashy sports bars and hookah lounges. I know we’re different, but the comment just makes me feel like trash, and that’s one feeling I’m not in short supply of. His eyes narrow, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he tries to comprehend the fact that I’m turning him down.

  “Come on. Show me that we’ve both matured,” he says. Us maturing was never the problem. I may have been immature, but the problem was always that Darren couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

  “It’s just a drink. We can review a bit about your dad’s case and see what I can give to my dad that may help,” he says, flashing me that smile of his that used to melt me from the inside out. My heart drops a little at the realization that he’s found yet another way to get me to say yes to something he wants. After all of his charm wore off and his ability to control me waned, he searched high and low for ways to keep me in line. He’s baiting me, and I know it, but I can’t say no—for my dad’s sake. I hop from foot to foot before I finally nod my head.

  “Eight o’clock at The 101 Club, okay?” he says. I nod my head again and rush to my car while trying to convince myself that Darren really is trying to help. As much as the thought of spending time, particularly time alone, with him frightens me, I decide to give it a shot just to see what this is all about. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I’m not the same girl I used to be, and I don’t need to fear him the same way I used to.

  Once inside the car, I gently coax her to life then tear off down the street to step into the club’s world for just a few minutes. I put Darren out of my mind. I have other things I have to worry about right now. Like Duke and his bullshit. It’s a good thing the clubhouse is just a few blocks away or I’d never make it in under ten minutes. As much as I want to give Mr. Asshole the middle finger and ignore him for the next two months, I already know that’s not how this is going to play out.

  This shit—me getting called to the clubhouse like a damn child—is exactly why I never wanted to hook up with Duke. He’s stuck in this sick cycle where he gets really fucking intense with any chick he’s into, and the more they protest, the more into the chase he gets. Nothing wrong with it, except he gets bored and then leaves a trail of chicks behind who all thought they had a chance to make him honest or something. And now, because I was too fucking drunk to stop myself, and way too fond of him, I’m one of those girls. I’ll just have to try to ride it out until he tires of me, I guess, and hope my heart doesn’t hurt too much when he leaves.

  Chapter 3

  Pulling up to the closed gates of the clubhouse, I brake while I wait for Rink, one of the prospects, to open them up and let me in. It takes a minute, but it feels like the entire world’s passed me by by the time I have enough space to squeeze my sedan through and into the secured Forsaken clubhouse. With the gate shut, I can’t even leave if they don’t want me to. This was a bad, bad idea. But I push myself to deal with it. I’m here now, and there’s no backing out.

  Parking across the lot from the bikes that sit near the main entrance, I slide up next to Chel’s coupe and climb out. It’s still chilly as hell out here, and I’m not wearing a whole lot of clothing. Walking into the Forsaken clubhouse dressed like I’m ready to party is all any of the guys need to take advantage of my presence. And I’m really not up to party right now. It’s mid-afternoon and already I’m worn the hell out.

  I cross the lot and open the heavy front door to find myself greeted by the sight of half the club sitting around on various pieces of furniture, drinking bottles of beer. Short windows line the uppermost part of the wall that curves into the exposed beam ceiling of the main room, streaming the only light into the room. Duke sits at a small round table in the center of the room. He turns just slightly and lifts his beer to his lips. Without looking away, he gulps down the remaining contents of the bottle then slaps it down on the table top. Across from him is Ryan, the club’s road captain. No clue how he earned that position since, last I checked, the boy couldn’t find his dick out of his own ass half the time. But I could be biased.

  “Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Duke says with a smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and sarcasm coats every word.

  “Quit being an asshole,” I snap, temporarily forgetting who all’s in the room. Low chuckles sound from around me, egging me on. I place a hand on my hip and jut my chin out. The boys live for this kind of drama in a way the chicks never have. And they have the nerve to say we’re the nosy ones.

  “You wanted me here, I’m here.”

  “It’s about fucking time you do as you’re told,” he says, standing from his seat. My muscles tense immediately as my temper snaps.

  “You’re kidding, right? You disappear for almost two months and now you’re giving me shit when I did nothing wrong?”

  “I’ve been here, Nicole,” he says in a deep rumble as he takes several large steps toward me. He stops a few feet in front of me. “I was gone for barely a week, that’s it.” Such bullshit. Just because I haven’t stepped foot on Forsaken property doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on with the club. Chel’s kept me updated. Despite the few overnight runs he’s made to Nevada, Duke’s been here, and I’ve been sitting at home like a moron waiting for his ass. No more.

  “And when you got back, where the hell have you been since? You sure as hell haven’t been looking for me. How dare you come to my job and start throwing your dick around like I owe you something after you ignored me for almost two months!” My voice raises with every word, to the point that I’m screaming. I can feel myself unraveling at the seams. Every breath comes out more ragged than the last, and the heat from his body, so close and muscular, isn’t helping any. His nearness is sending my hysteria in a whole new direction.

  We’re putting on a real show, entertaining most of our audience members, who respond with smiles and laughs. If I were anybody else, or even if I was screaming at anybody else, they wouldn’t be laughing. Lost Girls are the bottom of the totem pole around here and are not to be smarting off to the club. I almost wish they’d punish me for this—maybe even ban me—but they won’t. If they were going to do that, they wouldn’t be finding so much amusement in my freak-out. I’m not that lucky. I’m just glad they’re getting a kick out of this, because I’m sure not. The guys disappear all of the time, and it’s never pissed me off before. I was always just a Lost Girl, and they were the club, and that was cool. We had fun, but Duke claimed me. I played my part, and he hasn’t played his.

  “You don’t know shit about shit, woman. You ain’t been around,” he says, closing the distance between us. I hold firm, refusing to cave under the intimidation of his size. Craning my neck, I stare up at him and try not to be distracted by his distinct smell. It’s not his leather or his soap. It’s in his skin and bones and everything that makes Duke who
he is. Leaning down, he says coldly, “You got something else to say?”

  “Yeah, actually I do,” I say in a huff. “We got rules for a reason. You had your finger in my pussy, and you claimed me. You know the rules because your club makes the rules, so how dare you get on my ass for not being around the club when I was staying away like I’m supposed to!”

  “Anything else?” he snaps, his eyes all kinds of wild. I fight the urge to reach up and slap him. Slapping Duke might not get me banned, but it will get me in the kind of trouble I don’t want.

  “Oh yeah—who the hell is Princess, huh?” The words fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to think it over and stop them. But it’s too late. Now that I’ve said it, I realize how big of a mistake it was. The entire room goes silent, and Duke’s jaw ticks as his eyes turn very hard, narrowing in the corners.

  “My room. Now!” he snaps, taking me by surprise. Despite the sinking feeling in my stomach, I refuse to move. I’m so sick of this shit and playing by his rules—rules he can’t even be bothered to remember exist. I know the rules—I grew up knowing the rules—once you’re claimed you’re not supposed to be partying at the clubhouse unless you came with your man. That way the club avoids any unnecessary drama for the brothers—like Chief—who hook up with Lost Girls on the regular.

  “No,” I say. Obviously, this ‘Princess’ chick means something to him if it touches a nerve like this. Why else would the entire room get so quiet? It’s not like it matters. He’ll get bored of her eventually. “Go bother that bitch and leave me the hell alone!”