Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3) (15 page)

There’s always a price.
The words rumble through my head. What is my price?

The pathetic fact is that I want Dagger. Down and fucking dirty. Want. Him. Would I whore for the club? Not a chance in hell unless they rape me. I was stupid not to think of that possibility when I set out on this mad journey for vengeance. My life has been a fucked up ride from the get-go. Just once I want to be happy. Live a quiet life without anger impeding on everything I do.

Red is paying the price for my fuck ups now. Will she leave with me if given the chance? Dagger said she’s an old lady and will be handling the other women. Why has she stayed this long? I can’t leave if she’ll take the heat.

This is why Dagger was willing to bring me with him today. He knows I won’t endanger Red—she’s my weakness. I have two choices: Live with what they will do to Red or settle in while I figure out what the fuck I want to do with my life. When I face facts, I have nowhere else to go. Joey Jay would take me in but I’d need to grovel. I’m not the same person who left Florida. Truthfully, I don’t know who the fuck I am at all.

We pull up to the clubhouse and there are two additional bikes parked out front. Dagger isn’t worried. He casually helps me off his bike, takes the sunglasses I hand him, and stashes them back in the bike’s bag. All of this without meeting my eyes. Yeah, he’s still pissed off, but so am I.

Skull walks outside and greets Dagger with a manshake. “You good?” Skull asks him while giving me a side look.

Dagger grunts before replying. “Went to get some food. We need to stock this place with more booze and definitely something to eat.”

“I can leave Vamp here and take the truck into the city. Shopping’s not my strong suit, though,” Skull replies.

I made my decision on the back of Dagger’s bike and I might as well get started. “I know what to buy to stock a kitchen.”

Both men turn and stare at me.

“She did good in Payson,” Dagger says grudgingly.

“My old lady’s working extra hours to make up for time she missed while we took care of business,” Skull says to Dagger and then looks at me. “If you can stock a kitchen, I can stock a bar.”

Dagger stands silently by as I focus on Skull. “I’m ready whenever you are,” I offer.

“Let’s do it.” Skull turns and walks around the outside of the clubhouse. I follow. I can’t resist looking at Dagger before I take the final turn around the corner. He hasn’t removed his dark glasses, so I can’t see his eyes. Why the hell do I care that I’m leaving him when we’re both angry? Getting away for a short time will do me good. I don’t think straight at the best of times, but, hell, Dagger fries my brain.

I almost trip over a tire, so I turn my attention to where I’m placing my feet. There’s a lot of junk behind the clubhouse. I guess the great MC cleanup didn’t make it this far. The truck Skull leads me to is as dilapidated as the house. I’m surprised when it starts up immediately. My car is parked next to the truck, and I ignore it.

“Seat belt,” Skull says.

I find that funny. He rides a motorcycle with no helmet and forces me to buckle up?

“It’s the law,” he adds by way of explanation.

That’s even funnier. I don’t start laughing, though. If I do, tears might take over. I refuse to show weakness in front of any of these men and I’d like to keep it that way.

Skull turns the music up loud signaling that this isn’t a chat session. Good, I don’t feel like deciphering the brain of another skinhead. The music he plays is old country and the twang grates on my nerves. How can anyone listen to this shit? I sit back in the seat and close my eyes. It’s hot and the farther south we head, the hotter it gets. I should have changed into my shorts.

Skull takes me to a warehouse store to shop. It has everything in bulk, including fresh produce. He doesn’t bat an eye as I fill the massive cart. He has his own for alcohol. He buys hard liquor and beer. Soda seems to be his mixer of choice and he buys plenty of that too.

I buy six huge bags of tortilla chips for snacks. I also buy what I need to make a vat of salsa. These white boys need to learn something about good, authentic Mexican food.

I pile the cart as high as I can and Skull doesn’t stop me. I don’t know why but my thoughts turn to Dagger’s room and the condition of the sheets on his mussed up bed. “Would you mind if I get new sheets for Dagger’s bed?” I ask before I think about how that sounds.

Skull rubs his chin through his gray beard. “Get sets for the other two rooms too. All three beds are the same size and I doubt if any are free of holes the size of Camelback Mountain.”

I grab three sets and stack them in his cart. We head to the register and Skull pulls out the largest roll of one hundred dollar bills I’ve ever seen. I guess I didn’t need to worry about how much we bought.

He fills up the truck with gas on the way out of town. I’m hot and cranky when he turns the music on again. “Please no,” I groan while covering my ears.

“Driver chooses music, princess.”

Not him too. “My name is Sofia.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

I look out the window and stew. I can’t very well punch him in the face while he’s driving. Finally, we pull up in front of the clubhouse. I jump out before the truck stops rolling. Quiet people drive me crazy. Quiet people who listen to shit music more so. I notice additional bikes as I storm into the club. It’s about ten degrees cooler inside, which isn’t saying much. Dagger isn’t in the front room. I storm past the men and head down the hallway to find him. I enter his bedroom and stop cold. The room is actually clean. Dagger is placing his clothes in the battered dresser on the right side of the room.

“You cleaned it,” I say in astonishment as I look around the room.

“Needed cleaning,” he replies.

I look at the bed. The top sheet is pulled up with several glaring holes showing. “I bought sheets.”

“Good thing. These need to go to the nearest garbage. I’ll toss ’em if you want to put the new ones on.”

I’m talking about sheets for his bed and it’s obviously gone over his head. I decide to keep things calm and stop thinking about fucking this man. Yeah right, like that’s gonna happen. “I can’t believe you didn’t make me clean the room.”

He straightens from placing items in the bottom drawer. “You went shopping. Hate to shop, so I cleaned. Don’t worry, though. You got bar duty and cleanup tonight.”

“It’s Sunday.”

He leans against the dresser and gives me a killer smile. “The brothers don’t care. Only church they attend are the meetings we have here. No praying goes on at our meetings and we don’t sing no stupid hymns.” He looks over my shoulder and then back at me. “Where’s Skull?”

“I couldn’t take his damn music, so I left him to unload by himself.”

Dagger laughs. I like it. “Change into some shorts and we’ll both go help. I’m not fond of his music either but driver’s choice.”

“Is that a motorcycle
club
rule?”

“Nope, that’s the driver’s code,” he says with a bigger grin.

Ignoring the effect he has on me is nearly impossible. My nipples are super charged whenever he’s around. I grab my bag and enter the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Stupid really. He’s seen it all and maybe I should keep reminding him what he’s missing. Hell, I never thought sexual rejection could bother me, so I stay put. I remove my jeans and tee and stare into the mirror. I’m not a small girl, but I’m toned muscle from head to toe. I’ve always been proud of my body and worked hard to get it. I decide to put on my one and only sexy bra. It’s lavender with more lace than material to hold my breasts in. I don’t have matching panties, so I keep the black ones on. I pull up the red shorts and add a skimpy white tank that shows off the bra. I have the goods and plan on working them to see if I can get macho man out there to crack.

He’s waiting for me when I walk out. I swear a low growl comes from his throat before he turns and storms out of the room. I follow like a good little Latina and can’t help my grin.

We stack boxes on every available counter along with the small table pushed up against the side wall in the kitchen. When there’s no more room, we stack on the floor. When we’re finished, Skull, Dagger, and two other guys I don’t know head back into the front room. Rufus, my wet-behind-the-ears bodyguard, is the only one who stays behind. I fill the sink with dish liquid and add some bleach. I grab the plastic garbage container and move it to the refrigerator. I start empting everything from the interior and try to keep from spilling my guts while doing it.

“Can you take the garbage out for me so I can fill it again?” I ask when the trash can is filled to the brim.

He stares at me for a minute before answering. “Follow me. My instructions are to keep you in sight at all times.”

Oh, really! “What the hell happens when I need to pee?” I snap.

“Dagger takes care of that. If he ain’t here, the door stays open.”

I shouldn’t have asked. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I grumble. I’ll deal with the peeing problem with Dagger. I haven’t forgiven him for watching me piss yesterday and I’ll be damned if some funky kid watches. This Latina pussy is way more than he can handle.

I follow him out back through the door at the rear of the kitchen. The trailer where the women are looks abandoned. A large electric cooler is propped on a wooden table and I guess it filters air inside. I want to check on Red so bad. We head back to the kitchen and I fill the trash can halfway adding a few contents from the freezer. The trash can smells too bad to keep it in the kitchen, so we walk back outside to dump it.

I exhale with relief when I see Red. She’s leaning against the trailer smoking a cigarette. Her face is bandaged, but otherwise she appears okay. I walk in her direction and Rufus grabs my arm. “No,” he says.

“What the hell do you mean, no?” I yank my arm away and turn back to the trailer. Red’s cigarette is smoking on the ground and she’s closing the door behind her. What the fuck?

“Prez says to keep the two of you apart. Don’t get Red in trouble.”

I’ve managed to keep myself under control for most of the day and now this little bleach boy is about to make me lose my shit. I suck in air as slowly as possible to gain control. I march back inside the clubhouse and wash the refrigerator out. I ignore the bleach fumes making my eyes burn and scrub until it’s spotless. I begin unpacking the items that need to stay cold. Rufus opens a door past the refrigerator. It’s a closet size pantry with enough shelves to hold the dry goods.

I’ve worked harder than this before. So why am I so exhausted? I wipe sweat from my brow and wish I had some way to pull up my hair. I grab a clean glass and drink down tap water, which is foul-tasting. I don’t say a word to Rufus when the glass is empty; I just walk to the front room. More club members have shown up.

Dagger strides over to me with a beer in hand. “You got bar duty, princess.”

I turn on my heel and head behind the bar being sure to sway my hips just for him. There’s a fridge back here and when I open it, I see that it’s at least cleaner than the other one was before I took bleach to it. I grab a beer and untwist the cap. The damn cap burns my hand but I don’t show it. Several of the men are watching me. Dagger has a strange look on his face. He tips his beer to me when I take my first drink. I ignore him and turn to bar duty.

There are cases of beer and pop under the counter. The newly bought hard liquor is lined up against the back wall. There’s a club emblem on that same wall above the bottles. It’s the same one the club members wear on their vests. It’s actually pretty damn cool, but fuck if I tell any of them that. It’s a crow on motorcycle handlebars with two skulls in front. Desert Crows is written on a banner across the top. The design is in a black circle. It looks ominous, which is what the person who designed it was going for.

Rock music, thank God, gets louder and I shuffle beers and drinks when the guys approach the bar.

“Beer,” one of the guys says. No please or thank you after I hand it to him. Another has me make him a rum and Coke. I do it all without saying a word. It doesn’t seem to bother the guys. Rufus is smart enough to walk behind the bar and grab his own beer. I give him the evil eye and he snubs it.

Skull strides in followed by a woman. She’s around his age, has huge hair, and wears a lot of makeup. They’re carrying stacks of pizza boxes. Thank God, I’m starving. I’m guessing the woman is a whore, via Dagger’s explanation. She gives me a strange look and then proceeds to ignore me. “Hey, princess, bring two beers over here,” Skull shouts louder than he needs to. The damn music he listens to has damaged his hearing, I know it.

I grab as many beers as I can hold and carry them out to the tables. I’m being a good little Mexican worker. I am, really. I hand Skull two beers and notice the man across from him has an almost empty bottle in front of him. I walk around and set one of the bottles next to him.

I’m stunned when he grabs my hand in an iron grip and squeezes. “If I want a damn beer, I’ll ask. Stay the fuck away from me.” His grip goes from painful to excruciating and I literally see red. I’ve had enough. From country music, to an aching pussy, to cleaning and serving ungrateful assholes, my temper shoots from hot to sizzle in point two seconds. I swing the two beers in my other hand with the intent of de-braining him. He leaps out of his chair and takes the hit solidly on the shoulder. He still has hold of my hand and he twists it painfully and forces me to my knees. “You fucking bitch,” he says and keeps twisting. He’s intent on breaking my arm, and I’m just about to take his legs out from under him.