Kellan (20 page)

Kellan let out a sigh. “She’s okay. She got followed home.”
 

The air seemed to suck right out my lungs. She got followed home. Just like me. And whatever happened after that was bad enough to keep her from coming to the
Den
tonight. She loved it here. She was falling in love with Brax.
 

“How bad?” I swallowed hard.
 

“She’s okay. I swear. But I’m not going to lie to you and tell you everything’s under control. It isn’t. What I don’t know is how bad it’s going to get. I
can
try and keep you safe, if you let me.”
 

“Right.”
 

“Mallory.”
 

I put a hand up. Everything my dad had said before I left tonight played back in my head. The club was bad news. Thugs. Except, I knew they weren’t. But it seemed like maybe the rest of the town hadn’t got the memo just yet. And as Kellan stood there with concern filling his eyes, my heart ached more than a little bit. He was worried about me. He was worried about his club. He’d been in my life for so short a time, but I felt like he’d shown me the man he really was. He was a warrior. He loved his club. He loved this town. And maybe even me.
 

And I’d pushed him away. Twice. Dammit, why did I have to be such a sucker for men in need?
 

“Kellan, I.” I took a step toward him. He still didn’t move. I don’t know what I meant to say. What
could
I say?
 

Behind me, Justin let out a squealing guitar riff that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
 

“I think maybe he’s trying to get your attention,” Kellan said, smirking.
 

I turned. Justin kept playing, but his eyes widened at me. Behind him, the crowd started to chant my name.
 

I turned back to Kellan. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.” I was. It was just so much easier when I didn’t have to look him in the eyes. When Kellan was standing right in front of me, I couldn’t deny how much I wanted him touching me.
 

Kellan cupped his hand to his ear. It was impossible to hear over Justin’s wailing guitar and the crowd.
 

I sighed and shrugged. I held the wireless mic in my hand and I switched it on. I mouthed the word, “Later,” to Kellan. He shot me that dead sexy wink and jerked his chin toward the stage. They were calling me.
 

I turned away from Kellan and stepped out from the wings and into the spotlight.
 

The crowd wanted rough and hard. Justin had them revved up and ready for trouble. Normally, it was just the kind of vibe I needed. But Kellan’s look was on my mind and in my sights. He’d moved to the bar and sat there, sipping a beer as he watched me. And I still didn’t like the edge I felt from every member of the M.C. Hell, maybe we should have stuck to a Barry Manilow medley tonight to keep this crowd from getting out of hand.
 

Kellan’s eyes fixed on mine from across the room. He kept a casual posture with one arm across the bar, one foot resting on the rungs of a bar stool. He waved off one of the waitresses when she offered him a beer. She was new. I saw her shoulders sag as Kellan waved her off. That’s right, cupcake, just keep moving.
 

It was so hard not to sing just for Kellan. I wanted to. I wanted to shut out everything around me and make it be just the two of us. I don’t know what I wanted from him. Wasn’t sure if I was ready for anything more than what we’d already shared. Because I was scared. Men leave me. Or they take so much from me it makes me feel hollow. I wanted to believe Kellan was different. I wanted to be brave enough to give him a chance. Maybe I could.
 

Justin stepped into my line of sight. His eyes were hard. He knew my head was somewhere else. No. Not somewhere. He looked from me to Kellan and back again. Then he stepped in front of me and played to the screaming women in the front row. I turned and walked back toward Bruno, signaling him to play something even faster and harder next. Joan Jett, maybe. Lita Ford. Something to fill my head with noise and let me scream. I knew the crowd would be into it as much as I was. They always followed me wherever I took them. Tonight, I just didn’t want to take them too close to me.
 

Bruno nodded. As soon as Justin stepped back to the center of the stage, we launched into “Kiss Me Deadly
.
” It was perfect. Raw. The crowd was on their feet and singing along to the chorus. I stood center stage and gripped the microphone with both hands and held it high. I closed my eyes and let Bruno and Tim’s beat take me someplace else.
 

Justin leaned against me back to back and swayed when I did. He was solid, sure, always there when I needed him even though I hated having to. We’d been doing this since we were kids. My mom and his mom were sisters. Aunt Deb used to play piano for me as I worked out melodies and harmonies. Justin picked up the guitar for the first time when he saw how much attention I used to get. And here we were, back to back.
 

I didn’t see it start. I don’t know if I could have unless I’d been knocked over the head with the first beer bottle that flew. But I heard a voice cut through the rousing shouts of the crowd singing along with me.
 

“She’s not your fucking whore!”
 

I opened my eyes. My father stood at the end of the bar. Dammit! I’d never even seen him come in. His car keys jangled from his left hand so he’d probably staggered in loaded.
 

He held a broken beer bottle in his hand, swinging the deadly, jagged edge wildly as E.J. tried to get a hold of him. Within a few seconds, the crowd turned on him and away from me. Fuck. I’d sensed them wanting something hard and raw tonight. The vibe reached critical mass as my father took another swing. They were going to rip this place apart if the bouncers couldn’t defuse it.
 

I froze. Kellan moved in a blur. He shouted something to E.J. The whole thing turned into a free-for-all. There was nothing I could do from the stage.
 

“Son of a bitch,” Justin said. “What the hell is he thinking?”
 

“He’s not,” I said. I clicked off the mic and set it on the stage. “God, I’ve got to get to him. He’s going to get his ass kicked.”
 

But my father was swinging wildly. Luckily, his balance was off just enough he didn’t hit anyone with the sharp end of the beer bottle.
 

About a dozen brawlers in the crowd started to taunt him. Most of the crowd hung back and I was grateful for that. Some of them were used to just this kind of thing. But most of them weren’t. That’s not what
The Wolf Den
was supposed to be about. I tried to hop down from the stage but Justin grabbed my arm.
 

“No way,” he said. “I’m taking you out the back way. You’re no good to him if you get your own face smashed trying to help him. You let the club handle it.”
 

“Shit, Justin!”
 

“I know. Just come on.”
 

And then it was over. I don’t know what got through to my dad, but he dropped the beer bottle. He caught my eye over the crowd and he just looked sad. He threw his hands up and backed away toward the door. Thank God most of the crowd was mostly interested in the spectacle as opposed to throwing punches just for the spirit of the thing.
 

Kellan had just reached my father and put a hand out on his arm. My dad jerked away from him and said something that made Kellan’s jaw twitch. I saw his fists curl at his side but to his credit, he didn’t take a swing at him.
 

Dad turned around and staggered toward the front door. E.J. walked out with him. Kellan turned to me, his face white with concern. His shoulders dropped when he saw me, safe and sound and still in the wings of the stage.
 

“I need to go get my dad,” I said to Justin.
 

Mac called from the bar that the next round was on the house and that seemed to quell the commotion once and for all. I probably should have gone back out there and sang another song. But my heart wasn’t in it.
 

I ran back toward the green room with Justin on my heels.
 

“Mallory,” he called out. “It’s over. Don’t sweat it.”
 

“Don’t sweat it! I
knew
he was off tonight. I shouldn’t have let him be alone. I’ve got to go find him now and get him home.”
 

“Fine. Just let me come with you.”
 

“It’s better if I catch him by myself. You know it is.”
 

“Like hell.” Kellan came into the room. His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed as he stood next to Justin. The two of them formed a wall of testosterone in front of me. They couldn’t be more opposite. Kellan was broad and dark. Justin was blonde, just as tall, but had a sensitive glint to his eyes.
 

“This is a family matter,” I said.
 

“You are family!” Justin and Kellan said it together, then turned to look at each other, then back at me.
 

“I appreciate your concern. But this is my problem. Please tell me E.J. got his keys before he staggered off at least? He couldn’t have gotten very far.”
 

“I hope so too,” Kellan said. “Come on, we’ll go through the kitchen and head him off. I told E.J. and Tate to keep him in one place until we had a chance to deal with him.”
 

“Thanks.”
 

I grabbed my bag from the couch by the wall and walked down the hall with Kellan in front of me and Justin behind. I practically ran through the kitchen and out the back to the parking lot by the dumpster.
 

When I got outside, I heard a screech of tires and tripped over something large lying right in front of the back door.  I stumbled forward and would have face planted onto the asphalt if Kellan hadn’t shot out a hand and pulled me back.
 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. I looked down. The large thing I’d nearly tripped over was E.J. He lay damn near unconscious and crumpled by the dumpster with a large bloody gash across his eye. He moaned as Justin leaned down and shook him awake.
 

“What happened?” Kellan stepped around me. By now, Mac and Joker had piled out the door. They helped get E.J. to his feet.
 

“He had a gun,” E.J. said, his voice groggy.
 

My blood ran cold then roared in my ears.
 

“Drew down on me and smashed me across the temple when I tried to get his keys. I think that dude’s got a fucking death wish.”
 

My blood ran cold. Jesus, God. A death wish. He’d come loaded to a biker bar, brandishing a gun. Just what exactly did he think was going to happen? I was about to ask which way my father went when another squeal of tires cut through the air followed by a sickening crash. We turned together. A car had just wrapped itself around a telephone pole at the end of the road leading to the
Den
. No. Not a car. A truck. My dad’s red F-350. Smoke billowed out of the hood.
 

I ran. My legs felt stuck in molasses, but I tore across the parking lot. Kellan and Justin passed me. It was no more than a hundred yards to the wrecked truck, but it seemed like I’d never get there.
 

I did though, just behind Justin. Kellan got there too. I ran toward the cab but Justin held me back. Flames licked the windshield and I could just make out my father’s body slumped against the steering wheel. Lifeless. Colorless. Just like the day I’d found my mother in her bed when she finally couldn’t fight anymore.
 

Then everything seemed to close in around me and I sank to my knees.
 

Chapter Twenty One

Kellan
 

Smoke, flames, wrecked steel, and body parts. A part of me felt at home. A familiar, phantom pain flared through my right calf in the space that wasn’t there anymore. But it was just a fleeting pain and I sprang into action.
 

“Get her back,” I yelled to Mallory’s cousin. She was motionless. White as a ghost. Justin gave me a nod and started to drag her away from the wreck. She fought him, screaming like some wild thing. Then her body went rigid and she sank to the ground. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. Orange flames danced in her eyes as she watched her father’s truck burn.
 

I turned toward it. I heard the roar of two engines as E.J. and Tate came on the scene. They’d been smart enough to grab a fire extinguisher and I prayed there was enough time for that but knew I couldn’t take the chance. I got to the driver’s side door and tried to wrench it open. Mallory’s old man slumped against the wheel. The horn blared as smoke filled my lungs.
 

I reached through the shattered window and popped the lock on the door. When I opened it, Ned Rhodes spilled out in my arms. He was a heavy bastard. Not fat, but built like a brick shit house. Adrenalin fueled me as I dragged him away from the burning truck. E.J. and Tate ran forward and doused the hood of the truck with the fire extinguishers.
 

I dragged Mallory’s dad away from the truck and laid him on the ground.
 

“Call 911,” I called to Mallory. Her eyes were transfixed on the billowing smoke at the front of her dad’s truck.
 

“Mallory!” She couldn’t hear me.
 

“I got it,” Justin said. He pulled a phone out of his back pocket. I turned back to Ned. Blood caked his nostrils and he had a nasty gash on his forehead. But he wasn’t breathing. Worse than that though, I knew he didn’t want to. I’d seen the look in his eyes just before he tore off toward the lot. I’d seen it a hundred times in the desert. Ned was two generations older than those kids, but the look was the same. Nothing more dangerous than a soldier with a death wish.