Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC) (7 page)

There was a pregnant pause before both men edged to the stairs and retreated into the shadows.

Both Asher and Lucky waited a beat before lowering their guns. Lucky turned to me and I folded my arms. “Date night?” I repeated.

He grinned and I felt that expression to my toes. “Yeah, well, we’re not exactly the conventional couple. What’s a date night without guns and death threats?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “We’re not a couple. Period.”

He shook his head and stepped out of the shadows, chuckling. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, firefly.” He patted my head.

I scowled at him. “I don’t need to keep telling myself the truth,” I shot back.

“Kids, can we bring the bickering inside? You’re letting in the chill,” Rosie called from inside. “Lucky, I’ve got beer for you if you don’t tell my brother I’m giving Jagger somewhere to stay tonight.”

Lucky grinned and tucked me into his shoulder, directing us back into the apartment. “I can’t be bought with beer. I’m more loyal to my prez,” he said as we stepped inside.

Rosie grinned between us and held up the box. “I’ve got Pop-Tarts.”

“S’mores flavor?’

She nodded.

“I didn’t see or hear a thing,” Lucky said.

Asher shook his head, then focused on me. His gaze was shrewd as he took me in and his eyes hardened. “Where’s Lily?”

I yanked out of Lucky’s grip. Not because it was uncomfortable; it was too fucking comfortable. His pleasing smell of leather and tobacco made my eyes go lazy. But I’d been puking all day and my hair was unwashed. That smell would make his eyes water.

“At work,” I replied, crossing my hands over my chest. I was more than aware I was only wearing an oversized tee, no bra. Granted, the tee almost reached my knees and provided more coverage than even my most conservative outfit, but I had no makeup on, my face was pale and splotchy, the circles under my eyes almost black, and my freckles made me look like a twelve-year-old with mono.

Asher obviously observed this. “You okay?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

That hit me. Hard. Because it was genuine. I knew I wasn’t Asher’s favorite person, and for good reason, but there he was, coming to my rescue and being actually worried about me. It was all because of my connection to the woman who he was infatuated with, but still.

“I’m fine,” I said.

Lucky seemed to shake out of his cocky delusion and saw what Asher saw. His grip was heavy on my shoulders, almost to the point of pain, as he turned me roughly so I faced him.

He took me in and his form hardened. “What the fuck?” he bit out.

“You want to let me go?” I hissed. “I like my shoulders
not
crushed by The Incredible Hulk wearing leather.”

“You want to tell me what’s wrong with you?” he clipped, not letting me go.

I struggled under his grip and the weight of his stare. It unnerved me, his change. Not an ounce of his previous humor lurked behind his stare.

Asher stepped forward. “Brother, you might want to let her go,” he said, his hand going to Lucky’s shoulder. Lucky glanced down at Asher’s arm, then at his own inked hands, as if he was surprised to see them clutching my shoulders. He immediately let me go.

I rubbed my shoulder distractedly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, stepping forward. Asher hovered close, as if he anticipated having to step in.

I wasn’t afraid. I knew he wouldn’t put a hand on a woman in anger. Men who did, they had something about them. Something people like me sensed straight away. I’d known it about Dylan the second I met him, but because I was majorly fucked-up, I took up with him anyway.

“Did I hurt you, Becky?” he asked, concerned.

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I lied. I actually welcomed the pain. It was a nice distraction from the relentless itch I was fighting, even now.

He glowered at me. “You need to stop it with the fuckin’ ‘fine.’ You’re not. Jesus, look at you. Are you sick?”

I smiled, despite myself. “Yeah, I’m sick,” I agreed.

He touched my elbow, directing me to the sofa. “Well sit the fuck down before you fall down. I’ll fix you some chicken soup,” he said, pushing me gently onto the sofa before straightening.

“We don’t have chicken soup,” I informed him.

Rosie handed him a beer and a Pop-Tart, doing the same to a hard-faced Asher. “And you don’t know how to make chicken soup,” she added with a grin.

He frowned at her, taking a pull of his beer. “Then I’ll order some.” He looked back to me. “Have you been to the doctor?”

Yeah, I’ve been to the hospital where multiple doctors told me I’d been a hair’s breadth away from death and recommended I go to some rehab facility.
“I don’t need a doctor. I need rest and relaxation, which means you need to leave.”

His eyes narrowed. “You realize what just happened before?” he clipped. “What they wanted? What they were willin’ to do to get it?”

I swallowed, not from fear, as I wasn’t afraid of those idiots, but something else. “Yeah, and I know how to handle myself.”

Luckily, or maybe not so, our little argument was cut short by a scream. Lily’s scream.

My blood went cold and the men went into badass mode. If this were a cartoon, there would’ve been an Asher-shaped cloud where his body had been before he darted out of the door. Lucky was hot on his heels.

I pushed off the sofa, intent on following them. Rosie’s hand on my wrist stopped me.

“Let me go,” I hissed.

“You need to let the guys take care of it, as unfeminist as that sounds,” she said softly.

I turned to her. “That’s my best friend.”

“I know. But you don’t have any pants on, you’re wearing grandpa socks, and you can barely stand up,” she pointed out softly.

My body swayed as if to bring her point home.

Her grip became firmer, keeping me steady. “They got her,” she murmured.

“This is because of me,” I whispered.

Rosie’s face went hard. “No, this is because of the people who are doing this. Self-blame is not good for the complexion, and I won’t let you go all martyr and take everyone else’s sins on your shoulders.”

I kept my eyes on the door, praying for an unharmed Lily to come through it.

Like usual, my prayers weren’t answered.

When I saw Lily, she was pale and gasping for breath, a familiar scene from living with her.

Lily had asthma, and when she was in a high-stress or high-exertion situation it got bad. Heck, sometimes it came out of the blue. I didn’t scare easily; in fact, I didn’t scare at all. But watching my best friend suck at the air and not get enough to breathe in was fucking terrifying. Especially after finding out that her attack was triggered by two men attacking her in our parking lot.

Because of me.

Fortunately I knew how to deal with this, and all my sickness and the relentless itch disappeared. For the amount of time it took to get Lily’s inhaler and for her to catch her breath, at least.

Then the shake came back. The need. Because I needed this to be okay. I needed to find the contentedness that I’d found with the needle.

Because none of this was okay.

The only thing that was okay was the furious biker tenderly holding Lily in his arms like she was the most precious thing on the planet. That was okay. Because he’d protect her.

From the world.

From me.

Because even now she was trying to protect me. To pretend that she hadn’t almost been attacked, or worse, because of me.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly as her burly biker crowded her with his concern.

My eyes were glued to her, but the side of my body was aflame from Lucky’s stare. I ignored it. I had to.

“You were just attacked in your own parking lot. No one expects you to be fine, Lily,” Asher said.

“I am,” she replied firmly. “I won’t be if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on.”

Shame cloaked me, seeped into my bones.

“It was because of me,” I whispered, barely able to speak through my disgrace.

“It is not because of you,” Lucky growled, his face dark and eyes imprinting on me. “That’s the last time you’re laying the blame of this shit at your pretty little feet, got it?”

He stared at me and the way his eyes locked on me, his words so sure, seeped through the broken pieces of me. For self-preservation, I clung to them. I nodded, unable to speak. I had to look away; that stare would undo me. I was already hanging on by the last dirty, frayed thread.

“They were here because they’re the scum of the earth who consider women property and don’t like it when they get told otherwise,” Asher cut in.

If I was in my right mind, I totally would have something to say about that. These fucking bikers might not beat their women and pimp them out, but they liked to exert some form of ownership over them. I’d experienced it firsthand.

But the difference was that ownership with them wasn’t chains. At least not ones that hurt and rubbed you the wrong way. No, their chains were comfort, protection, the kind that made you never want to be free again.

Those were the most dangerous.

Lily must have mirrored my inward concerns because Asher felt the need to defend his little band of brothers and their chains.

“We never see women as property, flower. Not our club. Women aren’t possessions to be owned and traded. Any fucker who thinks that is someone who needs to taste lead,” he declared hotly.

Despite my best efforts, my gaze flickered to Lucky, then just as quickly flickered back to the floor. Because his gaze was still hot on me, seeing too much while at the same time not seeing enough.

If he saw enough, I’d be free from the chains I was already seeking solace in.

“And who are these specific… fuckers?” Lily asked.

I grinned inwardly at Lily’s curse. She never cursed. The word sounded comical coming out of her mouth.

Lucky let out a choked sound. We all looked at him. Well, I didn’t look at him, just in his general vicinity, I was careful to avoid his eyes. He waved his hand at the group.

“Sorry, shit. I’m well aware of the need to teach these fuckers a serious lesson, but I wasn’t even sure you could utter the word ‘fuck,’ Lily,” he spoke my thoughts, like he’d plucked them right out of my head.

This was getting freaky. And not in the good way.

“You know Bex’s boss?” Asher asked Lily.

I was glad for the change of subject, though not at the way it was steering into reality. My ugly one. I didn’t need to reveal that in front of my new friend and my… Lucky.

Not mine. No.

Lily nodded. “I’ve had the displeasure.”

“The strip club serves as a recruiting tool for his main business, peddling flesh,” Asher stated.

I swallowed bile, but knew I shouldn’t be surprised. These bikers were part of the biggest motorcycle club in the state, and they had their very own strip club. They had to know what their competition was up to.

Lily nodded at this.

I hated that, that she was exposed to this shit. Women like Lily weren’t born to be rubbing shoulders with women like me. With the realities that were too rough for her fragile skin. Though she wasn’t weak. She was stronger than me.

“You knew?” Asher asked, surprise clear on his face.

“No, but I’m not surprised. That guy gave me the serious heebie-jeebies,” she replied, her eyes zeroed in on me. The concern in them was painful. “Bex?” she probed, like she needed to know that I wasn’t fucking men for money.

My blood was ice. My best friend, the only one who ever saw whatever sliver of light that was left in me, still needed reassurance that I hadn’t descended further into sin.

“I said no,” I stated quickly, hating everything about the moment. I swallowed thickly.

Get your shit together, Bex.

I had to play my part. Build up my shell so it wasn’t transparent how broken I was. You couldn’t display weakness in front of sharks or horses. Or bikers who sniffed it out and would make it their life’s work to protect said weakness.

It worked for Lily and Asher.

Not for me.

Not for Lucky.

So I had to fake it.

“Or I may have used more colorful words than a one-syllable response, just to get my message across.” I grinned, hoping it didn’t look as forced and painful as it felt. “I thought that was the end of it. Obviously not.”

“That’s why those thugs were here? To bully you into prostitution?” she surmised.

As soon as the words left her mouth the air became heavy with two sets of alpha males emitting their own brand of fury. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lucky’s entire form stiffen. Could taste the bitter fury in the air.

I had no idea how to claw my way out of this clusterfuck.

“Thing one and thing two came knocking at the door, trying to intimidate the little female into letting them in or they’d huff and puff and blow my house down. Didn’t count on the fact I’d seen way worse than them. And I had bigger, badder wolves on speed dial,” Rosie spoke for the first time, and I could have kissed her at that moment.

“I don’t get it.” Lily frowned at me. “Carlos may be an asshole, but he can’t expect you to go back to work there after that. What did he have to gain from it?”

I shrugged, holding onto my mask with a death grip. “The fact I’ve got nothing else. That I need to eat.”

She gaped at me. “You’re not going back there, are you?”

No, I was not going back there. I couldn’t stomach even the thought in my newly lucid state. I didn’t have much self-respect left, but I had my pride. It was broken and tattered and in a sorry state, but it was still there

“Since I’ve been s
ick
”—I emphasized the word, in order to make sure the biker searing me with his gaze wouldn’t cotton onto the ugly truth—“I’ve obviously been missed. My ass is the only reason that place makes anything. That and my boobs.”

My two greatest assets, as Carlos himself had stated. All I had. And they were melting away with the weight.

“So you’re going back?” Even Lily couldn’t hide the judgment in her tone.

I had been about to reassure her that even I wasn’t that stupid when someone beat me to it.

“She’s not fuckin’ setting a toe in that shithole’s direction,” Lucky growled, his cold stare intent on me.