Breaking It All: A Hellfire Riders MC Romance (The Motorcycle Clubs) (18 page)

And tomorrow, I might be doing it again. Not lying to them. But not telling them all the details, either.

My chest lifts on a heavy sigh and in the dark, I slide my palm across the taut forearm slung over my stomach. The steely tension in his body eases as I say, “I’m glad you sent those messages. Aside from the pretending-to-be-my-brother part. But texting with you last week was a bright spot amid a whole lot of grief and shittiness.”

His voice sounds a little hoarse as he replies, “For me, too.”

“Okay, then. Unicorn Daddy.”

The bed shakes as Gunner’s laugh rumbles against my ear. Then my heart jumps as he pulls me closer—but only a little closer, his arm wrapped around me, his fingers tucked against my side. His head’s at the edge of his pillow, his breath whispering through my hair. I’d only have to turn my face toward his and his lips would be
so
near to mine.

But I close my eyes. And although my body burns and this endless longing aches in my chest, I’m pretty sure I’m smiling as I fall asleep.

And if any nightmares would have returned, having Gunner so near chases them away.

* * *

I must have slept like the dead. The sun’s high and bright when I open my eyes, and I’m alone in Gunner’s bed.

My heart clenches painfully when I realize I’m not
just
alone—the bags of clothes and weapons that he packed last night are gone, too. Did he already take off, then? He intended to leave this morning, to go looking for Stone. He wouldn’t delay that. He probably arranged for some of the other Riders to look out for me and then left.

And it’s good he did. I’m glad he’s the one going after Stone. There’s no one who will risk more to make sure my brother returns.

Still, everything inside me aches as I slowly shuffle into the bathroom. Not just my jaw and my leg. Every muscle hurts, including the stupid one beating in my chest.

Then it gives a wild leap when I walk into the living room and the front door opens. Daisy runs in, tail wagging. Gunner follows her, a tray of coffee cups and a pastry bag in hand, his crystalline gaze sweeping from my sleep-tousled head to my bare toes.

I stop, heart pounding. Sometimes I forget how gorgeous he is. Except I don’t really
forget
. It’s more like every time I see him, he’s somehow more beautiful than the last time I did—even though nothing’s really changed. He’s worn those faded jeans before and they’ve always hung low on his hips, always emphasized the long muscles of his thighs. Four years ago, my mom gave him that Henley shirt for Christmas, and although the color has faded from dozens of washings, the dark cotton has always stretched across his wide shoulders and broad chest like that. He’s always pushed the long sleeves halfway up his strong forearms, always looked so effortlessly strong and sexy. His jaw has always been hard, his eyes always that glacial blue and surrounded by thick black lashes, and his lips…

God. I can almost feel them on mine. Can almost taste him, the hot thrust of his tongue, the sweetness of his kiss.

Daisy’s head bumps against my leg, demanding attention. Moving gingerly, I bend over to greet her.

“She needed out, so I took her up the block.” Pushing aside a stack of paperbacks, Gunner sets the coffee on the counter separating the small kitchen from the living room. “And I had Bottlecap run out for breakfast and dog food.”

“She’ll probably like whatever’s in that bakery bag better.”

“I figured.” Although his mouth curves, his gaze is solemn as he watches me straighten. “The prez wants us to head over to the Den as soon as you’re ready. You up to it?”

“Yes.” Especially since Saxon isn’t just the Hellfire Riders’ president. He’s my boss.

“You feeling pretty sore? I’ve got ibuprofen, Tylenol. Or I can get something stronger for you.”

“Ibuprofen would be good.” The muscles in my shoulders protest when I reach for my coffee. “God. It feels like I haven’t just been punched in the jaw or whacked my leg on a table. More like I was beaten everywhere.”

His jaw clenches. “I know.”

I suppose he would. Sipping my coffee, I watch his gaze linger on my mouth before moving slowly upwards. By the dangerous expression in his eyes, I don’t think he’s checking me out like that because I’m so dang pretty.

“It looks terrible, doesn’t it?”

The huge bruise across my cheek hasn’t grown into a full-blown black eye but looks as if it was trying. My bottom lip is split and the left side of my mouth swollen. Strangely, my jaw hurts the worst but looks the best.

My breath stops when he lifts his hand and gently traces the curve of my bottom lip. “Looks like it hurts,” he says gruffly.

“It’s not so bad. I’m just not looking forward to seeing my parents.”

Abruptly he steps away. “Or them seeing you.”

Yes. That’s more accurate. They’re going to be so worried. But maybe they should be. Not just for Stone.

“Do you think my parents are safe? They’re my brother’s family, too. Maybe they’ll be threatened.”

“I don’t think so. You noticed Blowback wasn’t surprised when you told us why the fucker was there?”

“Yes.” Even though Gunner and Lily were.

“He knew family had been threatened after the fighters were taken. Not everyone, but some. So he had Hashtag looking out for you during the nights.”

“Really?” I hadn’t noticed at all.

Gunner nods, his jaw working. “I didn’t know. Just the prez and Blowback did. And Hashtag figured everyone on the executive board was in the know, so when Widowmaker sent him home sick last night, he assumed that you’d be covered. We fucked up.”

I shrug. They couldn’t have known for sure it would happen. “It turned out okay.”

“No.” His gaze holds mine before flicking to my cheek, my lips. “Not okay. A fuck up like that could have gotten you killed.”

“But not my parents?” I’m doubtful.

“You live out of town. You were alone. Your parents live together and across the street from the goddamn sheriff. Targeting them’s not going to be worth the risk to these fuckers.”

Is he lying to me so I don’t worry again? I can’t tell. But I think there’s something he probably isn’t saying—because another fuck up wouldn’t be acceptable. “The Riders are still going to have someone watching over them, aren’t they.”

It’s not a question, and the corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile. “Yup. But you don’t know that.”

“Okay.”

Easy enough. There’s a lot of stuff I supposedly don’t know.

Stomach rumbling, I pick through the pastry bag. There’s a variety, but the variety is all sugar. Bottlecap apparently has a sweet tooth. I like my coffee to resemble syrup but that’s about it. I’d have killed for a yogurt or fruit, but I can grab something at the Den.

Frowning a little, Gunner picks up the bag when I set it aside. With long fingers, he tears a blueberry muffin apart and tosses the entire bottom to Daisy, who wolfs it down in a single bite and turns her best
I’m a sad starving puppy
eyes up to beg for more.

He tears off another bottom and feeds it to her, then catches my look and grins. “I like the muffin tops best. Not so dry.”

I like watching him eat the tops best. In fact, sipping coffee and watching him share his breakfast with Daisy is the best start to a morning that I can remember in a long, long time.

But it doesn’t last. Too soon, he’s crumpling the pastry bag and looking over at me. “I packed up the truck earlier. So we’ll head out as soon as you’re ready.”

To the Den. Then Gunner to wherever he’s going—and I know better than to ask where that is. I already know the answer. Club business.

With a heavy heart, I nod.

“You want someone to pick up your stuff at your house, or do you want to head out there and do it yourself before we go to your parents’ place?”

Oh. Because, right. I probably shouldn’t stay alone at my house for now. “I’d rather do it,” I say. “And I need to get Daisy’s stuff, too. How long do you think I’ll need to stay there?”

Gunner frowns. “Where?”

“My parents’ house.”

“You’re not staying there,” he says flatly.

“Oh. Then where?”

He regards me for a long, endless moment. I can’t read his face, but his eyes—Jesus. Just like last night. Hot. Intense. Devouring me whole.

“Just go get ready,” he says gruffly. “And we’ll talk to the prez.”

Gunner

Hands to myself. Eyes forward.

After ten goddamn years of telling myself the same fucking thing over and over, keeping my hands and eyes off Anna Wall should be as easy as breathing.

But even breathing isn’t easy. Because, Christ—I can smell her. She showered before we left my place, and now her thick hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head, smelling like my soap. It’s not her usual perfume, a green tea scent her dad gave her last Christmas, but
my
scent. As if I’ve marked her. And I’m one second away from dragging her close and burying my face against her skin, so I can breathe her all in and claim every inch. Mine.

One second away. God damn it. I should have more control than this. But around Anna, that control hangs by a thin thread. And every year, every day, every breath—that thread stretches thinner and thinner.

I can’t let it break.

Hands to myself. Eyes forward.

My fingers clench on the steering wheel. Hands to myself. Even though her thigh is pressed up against mine. Wearing that big puffy coat, she’s buckled into the truck’s middle seat so Daisy can stick her head out the passenger window.

A dog on one side of her, and something more feral on the other. Because that bruise on her cheek, her swollen mouth have broken loose a savage part of me that I’ve kept chained down all these years. Bullets for Chef and every bastard in the Iron Blood wouldn’t satisfy my need to kill them. Even a goddamn sledgehammer wouldn’t be enough. But my hands, my teeth? I’d bathe in their fucking blood.

My need for her burns just as hot and wild. I didn’t let myself fall asleep last night. Not while holding her. Because on this thin primal edge, I might wake up with my thick cock buried deep inside her scalding heat, fucking her with raging ferocity until she screams my name, her pussy gripping me tight as she comes. Or wake up with my face between her legs, devouring her sweet cunt until her juices are slipping over my tongue.

Ah fuck. Just the thought of tasting her pussy makes my cock throb painfully, my balls tight and the head dripping precum. Just imagining sucking on her little clit while she bucks and cries out beneath me leaves me a stroke of my hand away from coming in my jeans.

I’d do anything for a taste. Just one single lick.

I’d do anything except hurt her. And shoving my dick into her only hours after some asshole tries to rape her? After she wakes up shaking from a nightmare?

Not a chance in hell.

But even though the night is over, I can’t unleash that savage now. I can’t touch her again. Not until we find Stone. Not until my family’s usefulness is done. Even though the feral beast inside me is howling that she’s mine. All fucking
mine
.

I can’t touch her. But I can keep her near me. I don’t have to let her go.

That knowledge is the only chain keeping me in control.

We’ll talk to the prez. But it doesn’t matter what Saxon says. Like it or not, Anna’s coming with me. All these endless goddamn years, I tried to save her by staying away—and she got hurt anyway. My brothers already fucked up once, watching over her. I won’t take that chance again. Anna’s mine.

And she’s mine to protect.

Late morning, the Wolf Den hasn’t opened yet and the parking lot is all but empty. Just the prez’s motorcycle and a car belonging to one of the cooks, who Anna says comes in early for lunch prep.

She scoots out the driver’s side after me, telling the dog, “Stay in the truck. Saxon will kick my ass if you bring the health inspector in.” She looks to me. “We’re not going to be long, are we?”

“Probably not.”

With her key, Anna lets us in through the front entrance. I follow her past the bar and through the employees’ door. The prez’s office is down a hallway, the door angled open, Saxon sitting at his desk with a pile of paperwork in front of him.

Anna taps lightly on the door and the boss leans back in his chair, telling her to come in with a flick of his fingers. His steely gaze lingers on her cheek, on her mouth. The boss is a hard man to read but I don’t need a magic decoder to know what he’s thinking.

He wants Chef dead. And he’s pissed that bastard’s getting extra time to live because we can’t rock the Iron Blood’s boat while we’re searching for Stone.

Anna doesn’t waver under that hard stare. “How’s Jenny?”

“At the brewery. Working already.”

“Of course.”

The boss nods. “You need anything?”

“My brother home,” she says simply. “And to know my mom and dad will be okay.”

“We’re taking care of both. You got your phone?”

Wordlessly, she pulls it from her coat pocket and shows him.

“You just keep hold of that. We’re going to look after you. I’ll get someone in to cover your shifts for the next week or so. You’re taking a vacation.”

“Paid? Because I
am
your most awesome employee.”

She jerks her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the wall behind her, covered by over sixty employee-of-the-month plaques that Anna hung herself. No one could doubt the boss has a soft spot for her, considering that he’s got over sixty photos of Anna staring out at him and she’s wearing a different silly face on each one.

His mouth twitches. “Paid,” he agrees. “Now get the fuck out of here while I talk to Gunner.”

She goes with a smile curving her swollen lips. I shut the door.

The boss eyes me and taps the phone laying on his desk. “You gonna explain this message you sent about her going with you?”

“The Riders won’t expend resources to protect her, so I’m getting her out of town.”

“Bullshit.”

Yes. “That’s the reason I’ll give the Notorious Few.”

A speculative gleam comes into his eyes. “They the reason you stayed away from her all this time?” He doesn’t wait for my answer, his gaze hardening. “They a threat to her?”

“Only if they think she’s more to me than Stone’s sister.”

“No problem there.” Wry amusement fills his voice. “You’ve been pretending she isn’t as long as I’ve known you. You just keep on pretending.”

Even if it kills me. “I will.”

The boss nods. “All right. One thing for damn sure, she’ll be safer with you than with anyone else, because there’s nobody who’ll take more interest in protecting her. You’d kill your blood brothers to keep her safe. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I can’t.

“Yeah. I know exactly how that is.” It’s said in the same rough tone he uses whenever he’s talking about Jenny. “So you’re taking her, then. Hell, let her listen around, set her up tending a bar. She might pick up more than you do.”

Not gonna happen. If I have my way, my family won’t even know she’s in the same state. “Anything else?”

He takes a long second to answer, as if deliberating. Finally he says, “That info Blowback is getting from his source in Vegas? The FBI’s got someone looking into the Cage.”

Undercover? “With what club?”

“The Devil’s Hangmen. They’re out of favor with the cartel so his info’s dated, but I’m telling you for two reasons. One, you trade that information if you’re up against a wall. Stone for the cop. Two, try and make sure it doesn’t come to that, because he’s how we’re going to get that trace on her phone when Stone calls. He’s more useful to us alive than dead.”

An undercover fed with the Devil’s Hangmen, who will have a tap on Anna’s phone. “Are the feds going to bust the Cage after she gets the call?”

The prez shakes his head. “Blowback’s source says there’s a leak in the Bureau, and that’s why the assholes running the Cage are always a step ahead. When he gets the location he’ll hold it close to his chest, so no one tips off whoever’s in charge of that show.”

“Or blows his cover.”

“Or that.” The prez’s gaze hardens. “But you’ve gotta assume the more calls she gets, the closer the feds will come, too. And I don’t care how Stone gets home, whether it’s us or the cops breaking him loose. But I’d sure like to know that the bastards who took our brother never get cozy in a cell. I’d rather see them in the ground.”

“I’ll put them there if I can,” I tell him. Especially the bastard who touched Anna. “And their fucking enforcer is dead, either way.”

A sharp nod says he approves of that plan. “Good enough. You got cash?”

“The prize money from last week’s fight.”

“Hit up Old Timer if you need more.”

I nod and head out. Anna’s sitting in the empty restaurant, staring at her phone. “Is this going to help—if he calls?”

“We’ve got friends who can trace the call.”

Doubt darkens the golden brown of her eyes. “Whoever took him has to know there’s a possibility the call will be traced. They’ll cover their tracks.”

“They’ll try.” I’m sure they will. “But it’ll still be more than we had before. And even if we can’t trace it, Stone will have time to think of what to tell you, maybe get a message through. So don’t let that out of your sight.”

“I won’t.” On a deep breath, she stands. “So am I going to be hidden away at the clubhouse? Obviously it won’t be at Jenny’s house”—a wry smile twists her beautiful swollen mouth—“because anyone coming after me might get to her, and Saxon wouldn’t risk that.”

The prez wouldn’t risk anyone getting to Anna, either. “How do you feel about a road trip?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, right now that phone is our strongest hope. And if we hid you away at the ranch, whether you’re at Jenny’s or the clubhouse, there’s a damn good chance you’d miss any call coming in.”

Just like I didn’t get that picture of her taped up last night until I got some goddamn reception.

“Oh.” With a grimace, she clutches the phone to her chest. “That’d be bad.”

“Real fucking bad. And we could hide you away on the ranch and keep the phone here in town, but fuck knows what’ll happen if you aren’t the one who answers. They might think you handed it over to the cops.”

“Also bad.”

“Yeah.” I step closer and watch awareness flare in her eyes, feel it race through my veins like fire. Christ. I need to get this under control. Everything I say, everything I do can’t look like anything but a man watching out for his friend’s little sister. “But we don’t want you so easy to find if that fucker comes looking again. One solution is to get you out of town. And me, I’m heading out of town. So the answer about where you ought to go is real damn obvious.”

Her lips part and she stares up at me. “With you.”

“That’s right.”

She takes a deep, slow breath. Then another. “Okay.”

“You sure?” Because it took a damn long time for her to work up to that
Okay
. “It doesn’t fit in with your plan to kick me out of your life.”

And I’m a dick for even saying it. I know she’s not going to run around hooking up with a bunch of assholes, looking for a future while Stone’s future is uncertain. But she might look for someone to console her. To hold her through any rough nights.

Better she knows now that even though I’m not a part of her plans for the future, I’m the only one she can go to. Soon, I’ll be the only one she’ll
ever
go to.

Her eyes are suddenly huge, dark and wounded. “I’m sure. Because I’d rather be safe and have a future where I’m totally alone than have no future at all.”

Yeah, I’m a fucking dick. “You won’t be alone.”

Anna nods, but her expression is sad and tired as she averts her eyes. Jesus, I can’t bear that look. Gently I lift my fingers to her face, trace the line of her jaw. Her gaze raises to mine, searching my eyes. I’ve got to be careful here. So careful. I can’t get in the habit of touching her. Even though nothing in my life ever felt so damn good.

But touching her in this tender way around my family might fuck up any chance of finding Stone. Losing him would hurt Anna more than anything my family could do to her. I won’t be the reason for any more of her pain.

I withdraw my hand, shoving my fists into the pockets of my jeans. “We ought to get going.”

Her voice is husky as she asks, “What about Daisy?”

“Probably best to leave her at your folks’ place.” On the road, there’s too many strangers, too many unfamiliar surroundings. And fuck knows if Anna and I have to take off quick, Daisy might be left behind. “We’ll be driving my truck down, but I’ll be taking my ride, too—and there’s no place for a dog on a bike.”

“Yes,” she says, then bites her lip and glances away with a stricken look on her face.

Oh hell. I know what that is. “You worried about seeing your parents?”

“Yes.” It’s a strained whisper.

And I can’t help myself. I cup her jaw again, sweep my thumb over her cheekbone, but my gaze touches the bruise on the other side. “We’ll go to your place, pack up your stuff, then head to your parents’. And I’ll be there with you. All right?”

On a shuddering breath, she nods against my palm. “All right.”