Unruly (6 page)

Aubrey's discomfort meant that I had to go a little slow. The jeans we agreed on were her own, but I lent her a green tank, kicking aqua cowboy boots, and a statement necklace. Seeing her in classic country woman was a great start, but that wasn't unique enough for the feel I wanted. So I added starlet makeup—cherry lips and heavy eyes—as well as a hairstyle that was a bit of a 1940s homage. By the time I was done, she had a sexier Rosie the Riveter thing going on. It wasn't so risqué that she'd be uncomfortable, but it was a bit more “notice me” than she typically sported.

She'd settled in, and I felt as if I could see the stress melt away as we walked. Men and women noticed her, and whether it was conscious or not, on some level she could see their attention and liked it. Then the first real test walked up to us.

“Aubrey?” Noah said.

I stayed back, watching him stare at her. I could see him tense up at seeing me there with her. He'd seen us talking on campus, seen us having lunch, but that didn't mean he was at ease right now.

Then Aubrey motioned to me. “Do you know Ellen?”

“Ellie,” he said, sounding awkward, like he didn't know what to do or say. “It's been . . . a while,” he said after a too-long pause.

My temper slipped at the awkwardness we had still between us. I'd thought I was ready to be friends again, but my lingering anger slid into my voice as I said, “Has it? I hadn't noticed.”

Noah tensed, and he stared at me for a long enough moment that I thought he was going to say something that put it all on the table. Then he turned to Aubrey and asked, “Is that Ellie's shirt?”

He knew it was. It had been on his floor more than once. He couldn't say that, though, and oddly or not, considering my anger, I was glad he was not letting that secret out. I didn't want to have that conversation here or now. I didn't want Aubrey in the middle of it, especially when I had zero intention of the past mattering now.

“She needed a dress-up doll,” Aubrey was telling him. “Apparently I'm going to be going shopping with her too.”

He nodded. “She has a great eye for that sort of thing.”

This time I was the one tensing. Was this an olive branch? I smiled at him before looking down. I was doubtful that anything would come of it for them, not with the way she lit up every time Killer was mentioned, but I wanted
all
of them happy. Despite everything, Noah and Killer were my oldest friends. Aubrey was fast becoming a new friend, so I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Not a date, my ass. He's certainly hoping. You could do a lot worse than Dash.”

Then I squeezed her hand and left.

Aubrey was well looked after with Noah at her side, and the Wolf
I
wanted to talk to was sitting in the bleachers. The Wolves always sat in the same section. Much like a lot of other things in town, what had been merely habit had evolved into an unwritten law. That was one of the benefits of living in the same town for long stretches of time: you knew the unwritten laws. Only Wolves and those connected to the club sat there. There was no one saying that other townsfolk
couldn't
join them, but even though the club was tolerated—and looked at as almost a volunteer police force sometimes—a crowd of black leather and tattoos was off-putting to most people.

I wasn't most people. Something warmed in me when I saw them. Echo wasn't here, but Billy was, as were most of the younger Wolves. Killer was racing, so I wasn't surprised to see the group of them there. Big Eddie, Hershey, and Skeeter were together, loud and raucous as usual. Alamo was with them, but he was frowning at his phone when I started up the bleachers. The other three lifted beers in greeting. Hershey called out, “Little bit!”

Alamo, however, didn't see me approach.

I wasn't there to see him, but I was going to try to talk to him. Maybe it was like my designing: I just needed to woman up and try harder. He'd never been outright rude, but he seemed like he'd been avoiding me the past couple of months. Tonight though, there was no way for it to be subtle if he
was
avoiding me. There were a lot of Wolves and their old ladies here. That meant that we were both just part of the crowd.

“How's Miss Bitty?” Big Eddie asked.

“Cantankerous as always.”

Skeeter snorted. “I swear the boy's got a crush on your mama, Ellie.”

Big Eddie shrugged. It was far from the first time he'd been accused of that. He was a bit over halfway between my age and Mama's, so I wasn't so sure what to think. Mama was young when Daddy died, with a school-aged daughter, and Big Eddie came round to help out a lot. It wasn't anything untoward, but it made for a strange relationship between us. He was young enough to be friends with Killer, but old enough to regard me more like a favored niece or little sister. It had made him increasingly tense with Noah over the years.

“You see Dash?” he asked in a voice a little too edged for my liking.

“He's here on a date with my friend Aubrey,” I said as levelly as I could. I looked up and met Big Eddie's gaze and told him, “I have no problem with it.”

He shook his head, but didn't reply.

“Red? The one Killer's growling over?” Hershey prompted.

I nodded.

“Dash never was too bright,” he muttered.

Alamo had put his phone away at some point and was watching us silently. I wanted to be witty or wise or charming, to make him talk to me, to somehow show him that I was worth his time and trouble. Instead, I was tongue-tied.

“You all right?” he asked quietly once the others were back to focusing on whatever football or basketball or hockey game they'd been discussing.

“Completely,” I said truthfully. “Aubrey's good people, and Noah's a great guy.”

The look on Alamo's face said everything he wasn't saying. “If you need anything . . .” he offered.

There was a part of me, a blunt and reputedly off-putting side, that wanted to tell Alamo exactly what I
did
want from him, but he hadn't given me any reason to think he'd be receptive. A lot of the Wolves were folks who wouldn't look at me with lust in their eyes if I did a striptease right in front of them. I suspected they would stop me, put a blanket or shirt or something over me, and tell my mama that I needed a talking-to. They either knew my family or had known me since I was a kid. The only Wolves I had dated were those just passing through—and Noah. Admittedly, Killer and I had gone riding once or twice, but I was fairly certain that was as much about Killer trying to prompt Noah to man up as it was anything else.

Of course, as much as I appreciated both the club as a whole and the men individually, I hadn't been interested in inspiring any lust in most of them either. Alamo was different.

“I doubt you'd want to hear what I need,” I told him lightly.

He studied me in that way of his, as if I was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. I couldn't decide if I liked it or found it obnoxious. I liked that he was looking at me, but I didn't like not knowing what he was thinking.

Then he smiled. “Darlin', you might just be surprised.”

I smiled back, hopeful that maybe we were making progress finally, but then Noah and Aubrey showed up. Alamo's friendly smile faded. He nodded at Aubrey, but that was the extent of his greeting.

Noah said nothing to me, but Aubrey motioned me over.

As much as I wanted to stay and talk to Alamo, I'd come with Aubrey as moral support. That was what friends did.

I wasn't there but ten minutes when I saw Alamo leave. I couldn't say whether he was leaving for good or just going for a walk. He wasn't toting anything with him, but he wasn't the sort to carry much in general. He left his helmet on his bike—most of the Wolves did—and there wasn't need for anything else.

The truth was, unfortunately, that Alamo had a habit of vanishing anytime I was alone with him
or
if Noah was around too. As much as I tried not to watch Alamo go or notice the pleased look on Noah's face, I doubted that I was very subtle—a theory that was confirmed a few moments later when Aubrey asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Dash and I grew up together,” I said. I wanted to know
why
Dash was smiling at Alamo's departure. Did they have words? Was there something there that I didn't know? Sometimes new Wolves took issue with the way Dash was and was not a Wolf. Maybe Dash was sore that Alamo had been the one to pick me up when I'd left months ago. That seemed unlikely because it had been
months
, but stranger things had happened. Explaining what was wrong would take too long, though, and it would involve sharing secrets, so all I said was “Sometimes he irritates me.”

“Do you want to go? We can—”

“No,” I interrupted Aubrey. “I want you to have fun. Enjoy the races. Enjoy
Dash
. He really is a great guy. We just had words last time we talked, and seeing him . . . I forgot how angry I was until I saw him.”

Alamo didn't come back. I tried not to let it ruin my mood. I was out with friends and my virtual family. I was enjoying a beautiful Tennessee event with great weather. By all rights, I should've been happy.

My less-than-ideal mood was nothing compared to Killer's, though, after the race when he and Noah and Aubrey had a run-in. Anyone who couldn't see the sparks flying between Killer and Aubrey would have to be blind. I couldn't decide who I felt worse for. Killer and Noah had both been my friends long enough that I wanted to see them happy, and they'd never seemed to genuinely be at odds over a girl. Aubrey had enough going for her that I was certain she didn't need to feel like a chew toy being tugged two ways.

I tried to keep my mouth shut and waited.

Finally Killer turned to me and said, “I'll walk you both to your car then.”

Like most of Killer's actions and words, this statement was more order than question. He was so much like Echo that it was a little uncanny sometimes. I felt like he was putting me in the middle of a drama I didn't need, but my silence wasn't helping.

“I can take you home, Aubrey,” I offered, hating that I was left navigating a mess. Aubrey clearly wanted Killer, but both of the boys were looking at her. It reminded me far too much of seeing them fight over too many things when we were kids.

Aubrey looked half sick when she glanced at Killer and said, “No.”

And for the first time in longer than I could remember, it was Killer I wanted to defend and protect. I'd never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at Aubrey. He stared at her as if she'd just stomped on his heart. For all of his attitude, he had a softness hidden under the muscles and tattoos.

Gently I nudged his arm. “Come on.”

Aubrey shot me a grateful look, but Noah didn't glance my way. Unexpectedly, Killer nodded at me, and after an awkward moment, we walked away.

I wasn't surprised that Killer didn't look back. I wasn't even surprised by the tight fists he'd curled his hands into. “Are you okay?”

He shot me a look that would've made me step back if I hadn't known him since forever.

“You know what I mean,” I clarified.

“She's mine.” Killer looked increasingly determined as we walked. “I'm not going to be okay as long as she keeps walking away. There's something there. She knows it, too.”

“She isn't like us,” I reminded him gently. “The club is our family. She can't see that.”

He stared at me, but he didn't comment.

Killer hadn't ever been one for heart-to-hearts. There were a few rare conversations, but as a rule, he wasn't a talker . . . which was why I was caught unprepared when he said, “Are
you
okay?”

I frowned at him. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Dash.”

“We're . . .” I tried to think of the words that weren't lies but weren't admissions. There wasn't a good solution there. “Noah and I are friends. That's all.”

Killer quirked his brow. The same look was one everyone had seen on Echo's face enough that it worked
almost
as well when Killer did it. “You two aren't usually split up this long.”

I opened my mouth, couldn't find words, and closed it again.

“If you're going to work things out, maybe now's a good time. Red's the sort of woman who could make a man throw everything away. Dash isn't going to be with her, but . . . if you two are—”

“Are you asking me to patch things up with Noah so he's out of your way?” I gaped at Killer. “Seriously? The rest of the world might not realize that you were a
ladykiller
before you decided it was the sort of name that chased off the women, but I haven't forgotten. Don't think I'm going to either.” I shoved my arm into his shoulder. “Your game gotten that weak, Ladykiller?”

He gave me the sort of simmering assessment that had resulted in a lot of women forgetting their common sense and said, “Not likely.”

I laughed. “Then figure it out, because I'm not getting with Noah ever again, even to help your sorry ass get the girl.” I shook my head. “Man, I never thought I'd see the day when the great Ladykiller needed help with a girl. Used to be they were ready to wrestle for a chance in your line. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”

Killer narrowed his eyes at me, but the corner of his mouth lifted in an almost smile. “Red won't know what hit her. I'm going to find a way. This one's the
one
, Ellie.”

I could hear the boy I used to know in his voice. This was my old friend; under the leather and the gun and the fists, this was Zion, the boy he'd been before he started answering to Ladykiller
or
Killer. I smiled at him. “I hope you can figure it out then . . . for both of you. I like her, you know?”

He nodded.