Logan: New Crusaders MC (8 page)

Once again, Logan was shocked about the way he was thinking.  This was more than jealousy or righteous anger.  Logan wanted to protect Nicole.  He saw her as his.  He wanted to kill the man who had hurt her so he would never have to see fear in her eyes again.  When had this happened?  When had he started feeling this way about Nicole?

“Ready.”

Logan stood up and turned around.  His self-control was immediately tested.

Nicole emerged from her bedroom wearing a tight red dress and fuck-me heels.  Her auburn hair was pulled up, but there were loose strands that fell over her face.  She’d put on makeup, covering up all signs of Clay’s violence.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, drawing a smile out of her.  “You sure we have to go out tonight?  I can think of something else we can do to occupy our time.”

She walked over to him and drew her nails over his bare arm.

“I got all dressed up,” she said.

“I noticed.”

She giggled.  “I need to let off some steam.”

“My offer still stands.”

“Come on, biker.  Take me on a date.”

Logan gave in.  He put his arm around her and escorted her out of the apartment.  When they got to the van, she raised her eyebrows.

“Gotta make a stop back at the clubhouse to get my bike,” Logan explained.  “We used this guy to pick up your dad.  Keep him comfortable while we got him to safety.”

The pain and gratitude in her eyes had him leaning down to kiss her.  He couldn’t believe how much this one woman was going through.  She was an incredibly strong person, taking on so much by herself.

He drove her to the clubhouse and they got out of the van.  A couple other bikes were in the lot, but no one was around.  Logan swung his leg over his bike and handed the helmet to Nicole.

“This is going to ruin my hair,” Nicole mumbled, putting it on.

“I think it looks good on you,” Logan replied, pulling her onto the bike.

“You’re still not gonna tell me where you’re taking me?”

“Nah,” Logan said, starting up the bike.  “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, and Logan wished she’d move those hands a little lower.  It was all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder and march her over to the clubhouse so he could show her just how much he needed her.

But the lady wanted a night out, and he happened to know a place that was both open and offering drink specials.

Nicole let out a little whoop of excitement as the bike jumped forward, and he smiled to himself.  He could get used to this.

Once at their destination, he pulled the bike up front and cut the engine.  Nicole got off the bike and a parade of emotions crossed her face.  Disbelief, amusement, annoyance.  They were all there.

“A strip club?” she said finally.

“Don’t knock it.  This is the Crusaders’ most lucrative business.  Our territory, our building.  No one will bother us here. And Bells is the best bartender in town.  Just wait ‘til you see what that woman can do with a bottle of vodka.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow at him.  “I hope you’re referring to the fact that she can pour vodka from the bottle, and nothing else.”

Logan let out a surprised laugh.  He loved the way she did that, catching him off guard with her humor.  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“Just wait and see,” he whispered into her ear, pushing the door open.

Kev, the bouncer on duty, nodded at Logan when they walked in.

Desiree, Amber, and Crystal were on stage.  Men of every shape and size were crowded around, waving cash at the women.  Nicole kept her eyes on the floor.

“Hey, those women are good friends,” Logan said.  “They’re not ashamed of this.  You shouldn’t be either.”

He nodded to Bells as he sat down at the bar.  She smiled at him, her eyes flickering over to Nicole.  She looked back at Logan and raised her eyebrows.  He just returned her smile, and she nodded in approval before leaning back over to resume flirting with the wispy blonde she’d been chatting up.

“How good of friends are they?” Nicole asked, nodding at the stage.

Logan looked at her, sitting on the barstool next to him, her brow furrowed.  She was jealous again.  He tried and failed not to love that.

“I’ve slept with Desiree and Crystal,” he told her, trying for honesty.  It was new for him.  “Amber’s only nineteen.  A little young for me.”

Nicole nodded as she considered them.  “They’re pretty,” she said.  “You still sleeping with them?”

“Nope.”

“Is there anyone else I should know about?” she asked.  “I mean… anyone current.”

“No one but you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Bells finally tore herself away from her latest conquest and walked over to them.

“Here even on your day off, Logan?” she asked, grabbing a glass and pouring some whisky into it.

“The lady wanted to be treated to a night out.”

“And what is the lady’s pleasure?” Bells asked, winking at Nicole.

“A shot of tequila to start,” Nicole said.

“Nice,” Bells said with approval, grabbing the tequila.

“Have you slept with Logan, too?” Nicole asked.

Bells laughed so hard she nearly spilled the shot.

“Nah, honey.  He’s got a little too much penis for my taste, but I like the bluntness.”  She turned to Logan.  “Watch out for this one.  She might just be too much for you.”

“I’ve already noticed,” Logan said.

“You two kids give me a holler when you’re ready for another round.”  Bells smiled at Nicole.  “You ever get tired of this dickhead, I can offer you a shoulder to lean on.  Or a pussy to eat.  Whatever you’re into.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Nicole said, knocking back the shot.

“Jesus.  I better get out of here before my panties drop any further,” Bells said.  She rapped the bar with her knuckles.  “I’m here if you need me.”

With that, she went back to the blonde, who had been watching their interaction intently.  From the looks of things, she wasn’t too happy that Bells had been flirting with Nicole.  Logan wasn’t worried.  Bells could sweet-talk her way out of anything.  He’d seen her break up a bar fight with a smile and a bottle of rum.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Logan said.  “If you really hate it here.”

“I don’t hate it here,” Nicole said.  “Maybe… maybe in a little bit I’ll want quiet.  Right now, I think the noise is doing some good.”

Logan sipped at his whisky as he watched her.  Her eyes were on the stage, but it didn’t look like she was really watching anything in particular.  She was in her own head, lost in thought.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand.  “Dance with me.”

“You dance?”

“I’ve been known to move awkwardly to music from time to time.  We both need the distraction.”

He guided her to the open space that many couples were using as a dance floor.  By her surprised expression, he could tell she was surprised to see so many other women here.

“This is the ‘club’ part of ‘strip club,’” he said into her ear.

He pulled her to him, and all conversation stopped for a while as they swayed together.  When the music picked up, Logan was delighted to see Nicole cut loose a little, moving and grinding against him.  Her hair came down as she danced, but she didn’t seem to notice or care.  He realized she needed this even more than she’d let on earlier, maybe even more than she’d originally thought, herself.

Song after song came and went.  They danced until they were both sweaty and tired.  Then he took her hand again and helped her navigate back to the bar.  He grabbed his glass of whisky – no doubt kept there by Bells, who knew to save the boss’ seat – and got the bartender’s attention.

“We’re heading to the deluxe suite,” Logan told her.  “Can you send someone back with a couple glasses of water and a bottle of whatever you poured into my glass?”

“You got it, hon.”

“The deluxe suite?” Nicole asked as he took her to the back of the club.

“Some guys get private lap dances in there, but it’s expensive.”

“You expecting a lap dance?”

“Only if you’re up for it.”

They went through the door to the private rooms, instantly cutting off the noise and chaos from the club.  The deluxe suite had soundproofed walls, a couch, a table, and a fan.  It was the perfect place to relax and rehydrate.  Seconds after they were settled, one of the girls knocked on the door.  With Logan’s say-so, she came in and set out the whisky and water.

“You two going to want any company?” she asked, eyeing Nicole curiously.

“Not tonight, Marina.”

“Okay, sweetheart.  You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Logan thanked her, and she left.  While Nicole chugged her glass of water, he poured two fingers of whisky for her and then topped off his own glass.

“What should we drink to?” Nicole asked, accepting the glass from him.

“How about… noisy strip clubs, vans with tinted windows, and bars with hidden backrooms?”

“Sure, I’ll drink to that.”

She touched her glass to his and drank the whisky down in one go.

“You gonna be okay?” Logan asked, refilling her glass.  “Maybe you should take it easy.”

“I’ll take it easy later,” she replied, taking a few more sips.  “Right now I’m going to drink until I don’t hurt anymore.”

“Why are you hurting?” Logan asked.

“Can’t control anything,” Nicole said.  “Couldn’t save my mom.  Couldn’t save my dad.  Can’t keep Clay off my back.”

“What happened to your mom?”

Nicole stared into her glass.

“She was my best friend,” she murmured.  “She was a waitress at the diner when Dad first opened it.  Then she was my mom.  Then she was a crack addict.”  She shook her head, hard, like she was trying to dislodge a bad memory from her head.  “The cops knocked on our door at three AM.  Told my dad a bunch of stuff I didn’t understand.  Something about a car accident, identifying a body at the morgue.  I was eight years old.”

Logan reached out and pulled her closer, until she could rest against him.  He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt.

“My dad tried to get her cleaned up,” she whispered, absentmindedly running her fingers over his kutte.  “Three times, she was in rehab.  Didn’t mean shit.  She’d come out of there with a new outlook on life, make us all kinds of promises about how she was going to be better.  Promised my dad they’d make me a younger sibling.  Then, two months later, we’d find her unconscious on the street.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, kissing the top of her head.  “For what it’s worth, that’s one of the reasons the Crusaders hate the Devil Kings so much.  Bunch of shithead drug dealers.  The Iconoclasts and the Crusaders share Castillo because we’re smart about how we do business.  The Crusaders have guns, but we’re careful about who we sell them to.  The ‘Clasts have muscle, and they run dope way out of Castillo.  But the Kings… they sell anything they want to anyone they want.  That’s not smart.”