Loving Me, Trusting You (21 page)

“Oh, trust me, the longer you know him, the more times you'll hear it and eventually, you'll start dozing off in simple anticipation of listening to that crap.” Both the girls laugh as I scan my eyes down the dark print, pausing when I catch sight of a particularly vulgar phrase.

His balls slap my chin as I struggle for breath, relishing the thick heaviness of his flesh between my lips.

Huh.

I keep reading.

Glance lifts my face to his, using my hair like reigns, and smiles down at me while his friend goes to town, fucking my pussy so hard and fast I feel like I might come already. God, I asked for a threesome, but I never expected this. Sali Bend is a connoisseur of dick, and this is most certainly a feast.

I slam the covers closed and flip the book around, so that I'm pressing the spine against my lips. The muscles in my stomach clench as my eyes shift across the small gap between the beds and find Amy's. She's grinning at me, garnering a confused look from her friend as she glances back and forth between us. Inside of me, something strange happens, some rusted gear comes unstuck and starts to spin.

“Try not to stay up too late,” she warns as I let loose and spill a chuckle from between my lips. Oddly enough, it sounds much more like my mother's this time.

“To read this trashy, ridiculous smut? Fat chance.”

By the time Gaine shows up, face white and eyes faraway, I've finished the whole damn thing.

I don't know where I plan on going when I leave, but I'm not sure what else to do. I can't sit in that room with Mireya and watch her fight against me. I
know
she's starting to feel things for me, but I can't get her to admit it. I don't want to hound her ass, but I also hate sitting back and waiting. I've spent far too much time doing that already.

I don't know what happened to her during that fight, but something changed. She's both more receptive and less. I don't get it at all.

I run my hand through my hair as I pace down the hallway, moving towards the stairs and taking them two at a time. There are Triple M'ers everywhere, watching, waiting for something to happen. And it will. We all know it. After seeing Broken Dallas, I'm admittedly a little terrified. I don't want this disease to spread, to be fearful of my surroundings wherever I go. If this scuffle turns into a war, life will never be the same.

I hit a side door out to the parking lot and nod at my friends, making sure they know I'm alright. I probably shouldn't be leaving by myself, but there's nobody I want to take with me. I just need a moment alone to think.

I start my bike and zip out of the parking lot, moving slowly, cautiously. Just because those dumb fucks walked away after our fight, that doesn't mean anything. They could be waiting for me right around the corner.

It's only after I
don't
see them for awhile that I start to get worried. I start thinking all sorts of horrible things for Austin and Kimmi, find myself absolutely positive that something bad is happenin' to them. I'm sure they're fine, of course, but the dark brings out the demons and when they howl, it's hard to hear much of anything else. I start thinking of Mireya then, wondering if I made a mistake by leaving. What if something were to happen while I was gone? I would never forgive myself.

I ride through the blackness for awhile, past all the darkened storefronts and restaurants. If Amy thought her town was bad, this one is even worse. There's not a single place open at this hour, not even the bar which looks more like a diner on the outside than anything else.

With a sigh, I turn around at the end of the street and work my way back again, searching for the bank. I have to pass the road to the hotel and continue on in the opposite direction for awhile before I find it.

I don't stop, just continue past it and circle around again. There's no activity that I can see, and I start to wonder if maybe Austin and Kimmi are finished in there already, if they were successful. That dream we've been nursing of heading to the beach and relaxing for awhile sounds damn near orgasmic at this point. Mireya could use some space, I think, and it'd be nice not to have to worry if I'm stepping on her toes every five minutes. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? So maybe if I were to play hard to get or somethin'? I wonder how she'd react if I brought a woman up to my room?

I head back towards the road to the hotel, determined not to stick my head any further up my ass. Just as I'm dipping low for a sharp turn, I catch sight of feet in the grass near the sign. They're bare, glaringly out of place in this dry darkness. This isn't the sort of place where folks hang out after sunset. There's a moment there where I lick my lips and try to decide if this concerns me at all, if I should pause or just keep going. Against my better judgement, I stop. Hey, I try to be a nice guy, that's how I live my life. If that were my friend in the bushes there, my sister, my brother, whoever, I sure as shit would like someone to stop and at least give 'em a poke, make sure they're alright.

When I get close by, I start to feel something weird inside, a twisting and churning, like an internal alarm. My movements slow and my ears strain to take in the scenery around me. I don't hear anything, but I smell a trap. Just when I'm about to turn away, go find Beck or somethin', I hear a groan from the direction of the feet, like a quiet sob.

I crouch down and crawl forward, slinking across the grass, taking in the two, dirtied soles before me with a growing pit in the center of my belly.
I know this person,
I think long before I reach out to touch them, before I dive into the foliage and discover the rest of the naked body. From the back, there are no obvious identifiers, but I've still got this horrible feeling in my gut. I should stop right now and drive up this hill like I've got wolves on my heels. But I don't. I can't just leave a naked girl lying in the bushes. If I did, I'd be no better than Bested by Crows.

“Hey there,” I whisper as I bend down and touch the back of her head gently. I try to keep my voice calm, but I can feel my lip twitchin' a bit, doing its damnedest to curl up into a scowl. I can tell you without any shadow of a doubt who's responsible for this shit. I just hope the girl doesn't have to pay the ultimate price for it.

She doesn't respond, but I can see her back rising and falling as she struggles to take in shallow breaths. I can't see her face yet, but already, I'm sweatin' up a storm.
Who the fuck is this and why is she here? What the hell does this even mean?
I reach out a hand and grab her by the shoulder. I know I should leave her as she is, call 911 or some shit, but I'm so used to living off the grid that it doesn't feel right. If I have to, I will, but first, I'm going to find out who this is.

“Listen, honey,” I say, leaning in close. I touch my hand to her shoulder and feel a sheen of sweat. No surprise, I guess, since it's hot as balls out here, but there's a clammy undertone that I don't much care for. Whoever this is, she's not in the best of shape. I move my fingers down her arm and grab hold of her bicep. “I'm going to turn you over, alright? So just stay calm and relax. I promise I won't hurt you, babe.” I touch warm, sticky wetness and pull my fingers back. The liquid blackness coating my fingertips can only be one thing. “Shit.” I turn the girl over and she whimpers. I make sure to catch her other shoulder and lower her softly into the grass. I catch flashes of purple bruises in a thin shaft of moonlight and have to bite my tongue to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Hey there,” I whisper as I brush some hair off her bloody face. “You awake there, sweetheart?”

I study the girl's features as best I can in the low light, but I still don't recognize her even though I feel like I should. Until I look down, past her bruised belly and catch a glimpse of her legs. Scooting closer, I see a black tattoo there.

“Aw, fuck.” I know who this girl is now. It's the one Mireya picked up at the bar, the one I almost had sex with. I lean forward on my knees, checking her pulse, feeling her forehead. This isn't good.
I'm responsible for this.
At least partially, it's true. “Jesus Mother Mary,” I whisper, rolling my eyes to the darkened sky. MC business should stay MC business, but this girl … She has nothing to do with us. So what do I do now?

I grab my phone from my back pocket and pause when I hear the rumble of motorcycles coming my way. If it's Broken Dallas or Bested by Crows, I'm screwed. If they catch me, I can kiss my freedom goodbye. We had our standoffs and our brawls. Next time, it'll be more than just warning shots and chains. Now that I see this girl, I know that this shit is elevated.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and call 911, not for my sake but for hers. It's not what I want to do; pulling the authorities in here probably isn't the best idea, not for anyone, including them. Broken Dallas has been known to start shit with cops. The woman that answers the line asks what my emergency is.

I wet my lips and try to decide how best to deal with this. As soon as this call is over, we've got to get the hell out of here. Period. I don't know what to do about Austin and Kimmi, but if I don't call in an ambulance for this girl now, there's a good chance she won't make it out of here alive. I feel like I'm betraying my MC for my conscious, but I can't take it back now. I touch my hand to the woman's cheek.
Goddamn bleeding heart bullshit.
I close my eyes and take a breath.

The motorcycles roll to a stop near my bike and idle there while I speak to the operator. I don't give her my name, even though she asks, just the address of the hotel.

“I don't know what happened to her, but it doesn't look good. You'd best be on your way quick.” I hang up the phone and slip my jacket off my shoulders, pausing before I lay it across her body. If I leave it here, I'm putting everybody at risk. Regretfully, I pull back and ready my gun. If it comes down to it, really comes down to it, I'd like to take a few of those assholes out before I go. I check the cylinder real quick and then sit back to wait.

“Gaine?” It's Austin's voice, just barely audible over the growling of his engine. “Where the fuck are you at?” I keep my revolver out, just in case. I mean, it doesn't take a Goddamn genius to figure out that this was a trap of some sort.
Or a warning.
We're running on borrowed time here.

I move out of the bushes to find Kimmi and Austin waiting for me. When they spot me, they both lower their weapons and breathe sighs of relief.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Kimmi snarls, looking around like she expects to be ambushed at any moment. Scary thing is, I don't think she's overreacting. Sometime soon, somebody, whether biker or cop, is going to pull around that corner. “And who the fuck is that?”

I move forward and straddle my bike with a sigh and a regretful glance. I hate to leave the woman here, but I have no other choice. It's time to move on or get caught. I leave my helmet on the back of my bike and put my weapon away, keeping it in easy reach, just in case.

“That,” I tell them as I close my fists over the handlebars. “Is a girl who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I think about Mireya and how she'd feel if she knew. A girl who was, presumably, beaten and raped by the same men that attacked her. A girl who ended up on their radar because of us. I can't tell her. Hell, I can't tell Beck either. This is something that Austin, Kimmi, and I are going to have to keep to ourselves.

“Should I be worried?” Austin asks from behind me. It's hard to know how to respond to that question.

“If you mean, is this a trap of some sort? I don't know. Maybe more of a message than anything else, but I'll tell you this. We better get the hell out of here before it's too late. An ambulance is on its way.” I turn and glance over my shoulder, catch a glimpse of Austin's face. Whether he and Kimmi were successful at the bank or not doesn't matter right now. If the cops come and find this girl while we're still at the hotel, we are up shit creek without a paddle. “And I'm sorry,” I add before either of them get a chance to say anything. The apology's not just for them, but for the girl, too. Leaving her alone in the grass feels like a betrayal of my soul, but I've already put Triple M in enough danger as it is. It's time to go, before Mireya finds out and something else snaps inside of her.

“Alright then,” Austin says with a sigh. He sounds tired already, and it's only his first week on the job. If we end up in an all out war, with our girls on one end and strangers on the other, all suffering over some dumb piece of shit like Tray Walker, the man's going to die from the stress. I hope this shit ends. Soon. I wonder briefly what might happen if I took matters into my own hands? “Let's rally the troops and light up the night.” He tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “That vacation we needed before is a necessity now. Let's cool our heels in the surf while we wait for this crap to die down. In a few weeks, we'll head to the West Coast where nobody's heard of Bested by Crows and this shit is buried in the dust behind us.”

He revs up his bike and starts up the hill with Kimmi following close behind. She doesn't say anything, but I can see in her face as she passes that she's nervous. Not good.