Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC) (10 page)

I sucked in a breath. “Well, currently, a biker with the manners of a Chihuahua has waltzed into a bathroom which is reserved for the opposite sex and accosted me,” I snapped.

He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t sass your way out of this shit, babe. I’m not fuckin’ blind.” His eyes flickered up my body and I felt heat with his gaze, although it wasn’t sexual, more pensive. “No matter how fuckin’ hot you are, you can’t hide it. The weight that’s fallen off you… Jesus, I’m afraid a stiff breeze will topple you. You’ve been hidin’ it, faking it with me. But you’re not getting better. Shit behind your eyes is dark. Dark enough it scares the fuckin’ shit outta me. Takes a lot to scare me, Becky. So you’re gonna tell me what’s got the dark behind those eyes so I can kill whoever’s responsible.”

Despite myself, I let out a cold giggle.

“This isn’t funny,” he ground out.

I swallowed my laugh. “Yeah, it is. It’s fucking hilarious,” I hissed, leaning forward so our noses almost touched. “You want to kill the person responsible for this?” I gestured down at my body. “Get your piece out now, then. You’ve got your villain.”

He froze. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I used all of my laughable strength to put my hands on his chest and shove him away. I didn’t move him much, just enough for me to duck under his arm and put some much needed distance between us. He frowned at me but didn’t advance again, merely held his body taut.

“You’ve got some warped idea in that bald head of yours that you’ve got some claim on me. That we’re
something
. That thought process needs to stop. Right now,” I ordered.

He grinned at me, though it wasn’t the same carefree grin that seemed to live on his face. It was something different, something I put there. Another thing to hate myself for. “We are
somethin
’, firefly. You know it. I knew it the moment I saw that sweet ass on stage. Knew it was mine then too.”

I restrained an exasperated scream. “Really? While I was dancing on stage, taking my clothes off for a room full of perverts, you knew I was yours? I was
everyone’s
. The fact that you felt like it was all for you meant I did my job right.”

Lucky’s jaw hardened. “That shit’s not true and you know it.”

I scowled at him. “The only thing I know is that you should be medicated because you’re in the fucking clouds if you think I’m yours. If you want me for something more than a fuck. Because that’s all I’m worth, and the only reason you think I’m worth more is because I haven’t opened my legs for you.”

He stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. “Maybe if you stop fighting so hard against this and give me a fuckin’ chance, then you’ll see I want you for a lot more than what’s between your legs.”

I laughed again. “Really? You’re telling me you want me for what? My glowing personality? My overflowing bank account? Or how about my glitzy career where I take my clothes off for money? Yeah, I’m a fucking catch.”

Lucky paused in the center of the room, taking up every molecule of oxygen with his presence. “Yeah, babe. I want to know more about the spitfire who has a fucking ocean beneath the surface, who has a dirtier mouth than me which turns me the fuck on.” He paused as the sex-drenched words caused my panties to dampen. He stepped forward again. “Don’t give a shit about your bank account, mainly because any man who’s a man takes care of his woman, though I’ll guess any man who tries to take care of you might get his face ripped off. And baby, that independence, that ferocity cloaking the vulnerability, it turns me the fuck on.” Another step forward. He was quickly rendering my earlier escape little more than useless. “Your current career just happens to be my favorite profession,” he continued, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Though I will admit I don’t love the fact that everyone gets to see the goods.” He came close enough to circle my neck with his hands. “Not the biggest fan of that. But as long as I get to be the only one who samples those goods, I’ll deal. For now.”

I stared at him, half hypnotized, half shocked. I knew I should’ve been pissed at the blatant, irritating confidence, but I couldn’t muster it.

“You keep tryin’ to push me away, but the only thing you’re doing is pulling me closer. I’m tangled up in you and I’ve only tasted your lips once,” he murmured. “You were right. I’m crazy, goin’ ’round the bend. It’s all because I’m going through withdrawals. Haven’t got my Becky fix.” His mouth was inches away from mine when his last sentence had me turning to stone and hurtling back to earth. He must’ve gauged my change because he reared back.

I lost it then, whatever control I’d been clutching to. I pushed him away once more. “That’s ironic,” I hissed. “Because I’m going through withdrawals too. Not in the poetic way you used the term in order to get into my pants, but the real, body shaking, throwing up, thinking the universe is going to finally kill you type of way,” I shouted, and began to pace the room. “You think all the other flaws in my personality are so fucking adorable? How about heroin addiction?” I whirled to face his granite body and blank face. “Does that ‘turn you the fuck on’? Does that make you want to put me on the back of your bike and have your name tattooed on my ass? Is this sexy?” I ripped up the sleeves of the flimsy cardigan hiding my arms and exposed the fading track marks in the crook of my elbow. I’d been careful when he was around, which was a lot, either hiding them with makeup or clothing. “To know that I shoot up every single day to escape my absolute train wreck of a life? That I almost ended said train wreck of a life one week ago in a dirty nightclub bathroom? You ready to claim me as yours now?”

His silence and the blank expression on his face were answer enough.

Despite expecting this exact reaction, despite saying these things with the intention of getting him away from me, it hurt. Stung through the layers of armor and steel I’d constructed through the years. Stung in such a way it punctured the wave of desperation I had for a fix.

“Yeah,” I whispered, jutting my chin up defiantly, doing my best to act like the rejection didn’t bother me. “I’m glad to see the ugliness of my reality has finally shown you the truth. Now that you’ve seen what I am, you can get on with your life and leave me the fuck alone.” I stepped forward with the intention of skirting around him and running all the way to fucking Mexico.

But that plan was thwarted when his hand darted out to snatch my arm and hindered my escape. I was too surprised to struggle, to say anything, not that he gave me the chance. He whirled me around to face him and yanked me into his body, plastering every inch of his torso with mine before claiming my mouth. People said that, claiming, and I didn’t understand it. Okay, I turned my nose up at those people and called them soppy assholes.

But there was no other word for what he was doing. It was him, owning, possessing, fucking branding me with one kiss. But it was more than one kiss. I’d kissed countless guys over my not-so-humble sexual career. Kissing mostly meant nothing. This was something—more than something. He was kissing me, wanting me after I just laid my filth at his feet.

He released me both too soon and not quickly enough. My brain felt like Jell-O and I was panting like an overweight Labrador.

“What was that?” I managed to choke out, blinking at him rapidly.

He didn’t answer, merely set my panties on fire with his gaze and hitched me over his shoulder. Yes, people did that in real life, if that’s what this was.

It took me the time it took him to leave the ladies’ room and walk down the hall to realize what was going on and start struggling. I wriggled and kicked, not caring that I was wearing a dress and such actions were not ladylike. I was not a lady, so who cared.

“Lucky!” I screeched.

He didn’t answer me, just kept walking into the common room full with people. Fucking great.

“Put me down,” I ordered, deciding to ignore the hoots and hollers as people watched his journey across the room.

He ignored me again, his arms like vises, hindering my struggle like I was a child. Despite the hoots, not many people seemed perturbed that Lucky was carting a struggling woman through the crowded room. In fact, from what I could see from my current position, everyone continued whatever they were doing without a second glance.

“Hello?” I shouted to no one in particular. “I’m being kidnapped! I thought the whole point of being an alpha biker was to help damsels in distress.” I waved my hands. “Damsel, in distress.”

I got a smirk from Brock, who had his arm around Amy, who winked at me. Fucking
winked
.

Rosie shook her head, grinning. I amended all my earlier thoughts about her. She wasn’t nice; she was a she-devil.

We made it into the parking lot without anyone coming to my aid.

“Fucking bikers,” I muttered under my breath. I’d stopped struggling, mostly because I’d discovered it was useless but even more disturbing, I’d lost the ability. My body was weak, but I hadn’t realized how much. I was breathless, as well as slightly nauseous from the laughable struggle.

“Put me down, Lucky. This isn’t funny,” I declared as we approached the truck we’d arrived in. “Or legal,” I added. Though I guessed an outlaw biker didn’t exactly care about federal law.

Again, Lucky was quiet. His silence was beginning to freak me out.

My stomach whirled as he somehow managed to open the door to the truck and deposit me in the seat in one smooth move. Almost like he’d done it before.

Because I was using all of my effort not to throw up, I missed my chance of escape. Which consisted of kicking him in his crown jewels and running to God knew where. When I realized that option was available, it disappeared. It disappeared with the cold steel circling my wrist and a metallic click.

I gaped up at my hand, which was now attached to the handle on the ceiling. “Holy shit,” I exclaimed. I glared at him. “You’re fucking
handcuffing
me?” I shouted. “Who the heck has handcuffs in their pockets?”

Lucky regarded me, his eyes still hard as he grinned seductively. “Someone who knows how to use them in the most pleasurable ways.”

The door slammed in my face and he rounded the car. I rattled the cuffs, looking for a way to pull them free. I was still attached to the roof by the time he climbed in the cab and began reversing out of the lot.

“Let me out of these. Right now,” I ordered, my voice dripping with venom. It disguised the panic. Not only was I restrained in a small space while battling with withdrawals, but I was stuck with him. The one person I needed to be far, far away from. Well actually, there were two people I needed to be far away from but the second was myself, and unfortunately, you couldn’t escape yourself. I’d tried. Came out with a drug addiction and, more recently, handcuffed in a truck with a hot biker.

“Can’t do that, Becky,” Lucky replied, eyes on the road. His body was relaxed, voice even, as if this were a totally normal thing to do.

I glared at his profile. “Um, I think you’ve got shit upside down. What you
can’t
do is throw someone over your shoulder and handcuff them in a motor vehicle. I know you live in some alternate biker world, but I’m thinking this particular act is a universal no-no.”

Lucky gave me a sideways glance before turning his attention back to the road. “The world I’m livin’ in has a beautiful woman who’s under my skin, drowning, struggling, and too fucking tough to ask for help. I’m not gonna let you drown, firefly. Letting your light go out?
That’s
a universal no-no.” He paused. “I knew you wouldn’t come willingly, so I’m doing what’s necessary.”

I took a long deep breath. A clean one. I needed a fucking smoke. And a lock pick kit. “I’ll come willingly, just let me out of these cuffs,” I said, my voice even.

A grin tickled the corner of his mouth. “The moment I do that, I’ll see that sexy ass running away from me. I can catch you, no doubt about that, and I’ll have fun doing it, but we’ll save that for later.” Another pause and the grin left his face. “For when you’re better.”

I pursed my lips together, a thin film of shame washing over me. The silence in the cab was deafening, the truth saturating the air. I scratched my arms, the itch coming back full force.

I watched the town pass us by and houses disappear, replaced by the ocean on one side and empty fields on the other.

“This is kidnapping,” I observed.

“You’re not a kid, so it’s technically adult-napping,” Lucky replied.

I scowled at him. “You missed your calling. You should have been a fucking comedian instead of a biker.”

“I moonlight. Best of both worlds, baby.”

“You’re impossible. And deranged,” I informed him.

“I’ll get that put on my tombstone.”

I let out a totally ridiculous little squeal and whipped my head around to glare at the passing landscape. There was obviously no way I could try and reason with him, so I just had to buy my time and wait for my moment.

What scared me the most was that on the surface, I was desperate to escape, but the little part of me that I was trying to ignore was desperate to stay. Because every second since I’d woken up in the hospital, I’d been drowning. And now, handcuffed and going God knew where, I was treading water.

“
S
he wore
a thousand faces all to hide her own.”

-Atticus

“
W
here are we going
?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

For the millionth time, I scowled at him. “I need to pee.”

“About time,” he said, glancing my way. “You must have a bladder of steel. I thought women had to pee like all the time. You’re always going to the ladies’ room, so if it’s not to use the facilities, what is it? Is there some kind Jell-O wrestling thing going on in there? You can tell me. I can keep a secret.”

I decided to ignore that.

“Okay, don’t tell me. I’ll just use my imagination.”

I ignored that too.

“Now we’re coming up to a gas station. I want to establish a circle of trust. You trust me to get the good snacks while you pee, and I’ll trust you not to make me chase you when I uncuff you. I’ve already had my cardio for the day,” Lucky said, slowing down and changing lanes so he could get off the freeway and onto an exit.

I rattled my arm which was becoming numb. “Why in the name of Barbra Streisand would I trust the man who handcuffed me to a fucking truck?”

“Because of my devilish good looks and enticing charm?”

I glared at him.

His attractive face turned serious and he gave me his full attention for the first time since he started driving. “How about because I’m going to do anything and everything in my considerable power to protect you, to get you well, to chase the darkness from your eyes. Because the only thing that matters to me right now, besides a chicken burrito, is your trust.”

I gaped at him for a split second, his words taking me by surprise and filling me with stupid warmth that I chased away. “Protect me? Is that what you call this?” I rattled the cuffs. “I don’t need protecting. I can take care of myself.”

Lucky’s jaw hardened as he pulled into the gas station. “Recent events make me think otherwise.”

That one stung. I didn’t let on, of course. “It’s obvious that you think a lot of yourself, but I’m sure even you’re not delusional enough to think you can cure addiction with muscles and the sense of humor of a seven-year-old.”

Lucky stopped the truck, turning his body to me. “I do have mad skills at most things, and great muscles, thanks for noticing. But no, sadly I can’t cure it. But I can take you somewhere where you can cure yourself.”

On that note, he got out of the truck and let me digest his words for approximately three-point-five seconds. Then my door was opened and Lucky was in my space, his scent and presence engulfing me as he reached up to unlock my cuffs. He seemed to know that my arm felt like lead because instead of it hurtling down, it was engulfed in warmth as he gently circled it with his hand and placed it on my lap. His eyes held mine the entire time.

“I got you, Becky,” he murmured. “I know you’re determined to face this storm alone, but give me two days. You want to leave after that, I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go.”

He let the offer hang in the air and didn’t move, his thumb gently massaging the feeling back into my arm. I wasn’t sure if the pins and needles prickling my skin were the sensation returning or my body’s response to his touch. I’d like to believe it was the former, but I feared it was the latter.

He pushed a tendril of hair behind my ear. “You think about it while you visit the mythical ladies’ room where the door to Narnia resides. I’ll get us supplies. You want anything?”

I blinked at him. “Five Twinkies, an ice tea, and box of tampons,” I said, knowing how much an alpha male would love getting feminine products.

He didn’t react, only nodded. “Your wish is my command.” He stepped back, letting me out of the truck. “Remember, my cardio’s already done for the day and I know you wouldn’t do anything as cruel and making me work out twice in one day.” He winked and leaned in to shut my door before turning and sauntering into the gas station. I watched him—the way the leather on his cut moved along his muscled back, the confidence in his stride, the way two girls walking out of the store actually stopped and watched his journey through the double doors.

I didn’t blame them; he was a fucking sight. Too bad he was the most annoying person I’d ever met. My gaze flickered around the gas station, noting the sign for the ladies’ room. I made a beeline for it. I hadn’t ruled out escape yet, but it was hard to think on a full bladder.

After I’d done my business, I stared at myself in the grimy mirror.

My hair was cascading down my back, a tumble of curls. The ends were freshly died, electric blue this time. That was about the only part of me that had semblance of order. My foundation had washed off and I was starting to worry that the purple under my eyes was permanent. The black cardigan I was wearing over my short lace dress covered my skinny, blotchy arms, but my collarbone was still visible and protruding. “Still a mess,” I muttered to myself.

I splashed water on my face and reached into my handbag to rinse my mouth with mouthwash and spray some perfume. My bag was always stocked with emergencies supplies, though it was missing one thing. The thing I craved with an intensity that had my entire body shaking.

I braced myself on the cracked porcelain sink. It was insane, the itch. The need was nothing more than annoying background noise the entire time I’d been in the car with Lucky, but now I was drowning in it again as it filled my entire body with its power. I had decided to slip out the back and hitchhike back home not seconds before, but now I wasn’t so sure. Whatever the fuck was going on with Lucky wasn’t good, for me and, more importantly, for him. But I was selfish. Desperate not to fall down that rabbit hole that didn’t lead to Wonderland. So I made my decision.

* * *

“
I
didn’t know
what to get, so I just got one of every flavor,” Lucky declared, handing me a bag overflowing with feminine products.

I took it from him, expressionless. I glanced down; the bag was actually filled with every ‘flavor’ of tampons gas stations offered. I saw the telltale Twinkie wrapper along with about four different kinds of chocolate. My gaze went back up to Lucky, who was munching on a burrito. He held out an ice tea. I took it wordlessly.

He nodded to the bag. “I got chocolate too, ’cause I know when bitches get on the rag they need that shit. I don’t know why. That, along with women’s bathroom treasures, will remain a mystery to me, but I thought it would be safest to get you some too.”

I didn’t have a response to that, namely because it was so fucking...
domestic
. He was acting like this was something we did every month. Like he hadn’t just handcuffed me to a truck after finding out about my drug addiction and subsequent overdose. It was so fucking normal and it scared the shit out of me.

His eyes flickered over me, losing the easiness to them. “You didn’t run,” he observed.

I swallowed. “I’m not wearing the right shoes,” I lied. My combat boots would do quite well for running, and for fighting and kicking. One of the reasons I’d worn them since I’d scraped up enough cash to get them at thirteen.

But I didn’t want to run. I was so fucking tired of running from everything.

Lucky nodded. “Yet another reason for me to thank the creator of those things.” He nodded to my boots. “Not only are they hot as fuck but they keep you right where I want you. Perfect.”

As he reversed out of the lot, I had an overwhelming urge to lick the sinewy, tattooed flesh that was inches away from my face.

Instead, I ripped open a chocolate at random, shoving it into my mouth so I didn’t do anything stupider than I already had. The stupidity being staying in the truck without a fight.

“Got to say, firefly, I’m glad I don’t have to use the cuffs,” Lucky said as he pulled back onto the freeway. His gaze flickered sideways for a second, hunger in it. “Well, I’m not ruling out using them completely, but for that particular use, I’m glad.”

I crossed my arms, namely to cover up the way my nipples hardened through the thin fabric of my dress at the pure sex in his tone. Don’t ask me how the guy could be dorky, yet funny, yet dangerous and sexy as fuck all at the same time. It shouldn’t be humanly possible, but there he was, living, breathing, testosterone-emitting proof.

“Where are we going, anyway? Now that I’m not being held prisoner, I should be able to know the destination. I won’t be writing it in lipstick on bathroom mirrors anymore. The last message I wrote only had the license plate number on it. They’re not easy to trace, right?” I asked sweetly.

Lucky chuckled, and the sound sent bolts of electricity though my body.

Get it together
.

“I thought my brothers had snapped up the women with the smartest mouths in all of America, Brock especially.” He glanced to me. “I was fuckin’ wrong. I’ve hit the goddamn jackpot.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You haven’t
hit
anything. And you won’t be. I’m not someone you’ve ‘snapped up.’ I’m someone you forcibly brought into your presence, using handcuffs.”

Lucky shrugged. “There’s only so long you can be in my presence and not fall in love with me.”

I snorted. “Don’t hold your breath.”

My bravado hid my fear. My absolute terror that his words were a premonition.

* * *

“
B
ecky
, we’re here.”

A soft and pleasing sensation on my jaw accompanied the rough voice puncturing my unconsciousness and I clung to it, just a little longer. Oblivion had been a stranger to me since I had become too close with unyielding darkness. Sleep wasn’t something that came easy when your entire body was electrified with need, with desperation to meet that oblivion once more.

I snuggled deeper into the slumber.

That time the pressure was not soft, and it was on my shoulder. My body shook slightly. “Becky?” The voice was louder, concerned. “Wake up.”

I creaked one eye open, then another. “I was busy,” I moaned, cracking my neck and straightening from my slumped position in the seat. The motion also moved me far away from Lucky’s proximity and his endearing scent, my sleep-addled mind having leaned into it for a split second.

He put his hand to the back on his neck, his face relaxing. “Busy?” he repeated.

I tried to subtly wipe the drool from the side of my face and tame the rat’s nest that was my hair. I had a feeling I looked like a Halloween mask. One I couldn’t take off. “Busy
sleeping
,” I informed him, yanking my dress into place. His hungry eyes touched my bare legs, sending shivers up my thighs.

“Jesus, Becky. You sleep like the fucking dead. I was worried I’d have to get some smelling salts or some shit. I even checked your pulse. I can still do CPR, and I think you look like you need it.” His grin came back, but it was crooked at the edges and didn’t reach the sides.

I swatted his body away. “I’ll say no to opening myself up to the plethora of STDs that reside in your saliva.”

He stepped back, grinning easily in that way that didn’t reach his hazel eyes.

I placed my boots on sand, then tasted the salt in the ocean air. We’d been driving the coastal road for a couple hours, so it wasn’t a surprise we were by the beach. I just didn’t expect to be
on
the beach. The roar of the waves filled my head and I welcomed the noise, drowning out the whispers of the little devil on both of my shoulders. There wasn’t an angel in sight.

Beyond Lucky, who had his arms crossed and was regarding me, was a little bungalow thing. It was nothing fancy, which was good; I didn’t do well with fancy. In fact, I despised fancy. Not that I had much experience with it.

It was small and there was a concrete footpath snaking around the front of the house, leading down to the beach. The house was mostly windows with faded black wood on the outside. A couple of beat-up old sun loungers sat on a small grassy area behind the sand.

I glanced back to Lucky. “Whose place is this?”

“Mine.”

I raised my brows. “Yours?”