Authors: Amber Morgan
Before he could reply,
Mia returned with an armful of towels. Tanner dropped his hand and stepped
away, and Beth felt a pang of relief and regret.
"Here we go,"
Mia said, handing Beth a towel. "Now you get dry and let's see what I've
got in my wardrobe that will fit you. Then we'll take care of coffee and
pie."
Her breezy generosity
made Beth feel guilty. "I don't have any money ..."
"Never
mind that.
Dry
yourself." Mia opened her wardrobe and started rummaging. "Tanner,
you go wait in the diner. Give the girl some privacy."
Tanner opened his mouth
to protest, but closed it quickly when she glared warningly at him. He left the
room, almost stomping out, Beth thought.
She started drying her
hair while Mia pulled things out of her wardrobe. "You're about my height,
but that's where our similarities end," Mia said apologetically. She
handed Beth a plain white T-shirt, a black and blue flannel shirt, and a pair
of jeans. "You're going to be a little swamped in this stuff, but it's
better than what
you're
in now."
Beth flushed again,
embarrassed by her worn clothes. Still, she was privately glad that the clothes
Mia gave her were a little large and plain. Some of the other stuff she could
see in Mia's wardrobe was bright and
fitted,
the kind
of garments Abram would say prostitutes and fallen women wore. The Church
taught that women's bodies were sinful, a source of temptation, and not to be
celebrated. It also taught that frugality was purity. Beth wasn't sure she
really believed that, but she hadn't been given a choice about it. Everything
she owned was designed to cover her up and had been handed down by other women.
She'd never owned anything new.
"Thank you,"
she said, taking the clothes.
"I'll give you a
minute to change," Mia said. "Then you come on through and we'll get
you fed."
To her horror, Beth
felt tears sting her eyes. "Why are you being so kind?" she blurted
before she could stop herself.
Mia looked momentarily
troubled, then smiled and patted Beth's arm. "I'm kind to everyone,
sweetie. It's my job."
She left and Beth
couldn't hold it in any longer. She sat down on the bed, buried her face in the
damp towel, and cried.
Chapter Two
Tanner drummed his
fingers on the counter diner and tried not to think about the girl. Bethany. He
tried not to think about how much pain and fear those blue eyes expressed. He
tried not to think about how timid she acted. He tried not to think about how
much he wanted to hold her and promise her that whatever, whoever was hurting
her, he'd make them stop.
Fuck. What was wrong
with him?
Mia came back out, a
worried expression on her face. She poured him a cup of coffee, leaving it
black how he liked, and pushed it toward him. "Where'd you find her,
Tanner?"
He winced at the grit
in her voice. Mia looked soft, all lush curves and big smiles, but she was made
of steel underneath. None of the guys in the Wild Blood MC messed with Mia.
Probably all of them would like to, under the right circumstances ... He shook
that thought away. "I told you, in the middle of the road. She almost ran
right into me." He went cold, thinking again of how easily he could have
killed Bethany.
Mia wiped at an
imaginary stain on the counter. "Well she's running from someone, or
something. What are you going to do with her?"
Protect her
, he wanted to say, but he bit his
tongue. "I don't know."
"Think of
something," Mia advised.
Tanner ran his hands
through his hair with a groan. "Nash will kill me."
Mia cocked an eyebrow
at him. "You scared?"
Scared of Cullen Nash?
Fuck yes. Tanner wasn't an idiot. The President was a scary dude, and Tanner
respected the big dog. Nash didn't have many rules when it came to the MC, but
one of them was iron-clad: don't draw attention. Tanner had broken that rule
once. It had put him behind bars, and he knew he was lucky Nash had let him back
in the MC.
And Bethany ... Jesus
fucking Christ, you didn't have to be a genius to see that Bethany was on the
run from something. That meant trouble. That meant attention.
If Tanner really wasn't
an idiot, he'd get right back on his bike, drive home, and forget all about
Bethany.
Then she slunk back
into the diner and he knew it was a lost cause.
The clothes Mia gave
her didn't do her any favors. The flannel shirt hid the curves he'd felt
pressed against his back on the ride, and the baggy jeans gave her a boyish
look. The girls who hung around the Wild Blood clubhouse, the old ladies and
the ones looking to become old ladies, they generally wore much more revealing
gear. And five seconds ago, Tanner would have said that was the way it should
be.
But for all that the
clothes made Bethany look like a kid playing dress up with her brother's gear,
something about the sight of her made Tanner's cock twitch. Maybe it was just
that he wanted to peel the clothes off, find out what she was hiding
underneath. There was something to be said for a little mystery, after all.
She slid up beside him,
giving him an anxious smile, and mumbled
a thanks
to
Mia.
"Stop saying thank
you," Mia said, handing her a cup of coffee. "Now, I think you need
something a little more filling than a slice of pie. Go take a seat and I'll
rustle up some burgers for you guys."
Tanner grinned at Mia,
grateful for her take-charge kindness. There was more than one reason some of
his brothers panted after her. A hot body was one thing, but a woman who would
feed you too? She was a keeper.
"Come on," he
said to Bethany, resisting the urge to put his arm round her waist and guide
her to a booth.
"Some men would fucking kill for one of
Mia's burgers."
Seated at the booth,
she stared into her coffee in silence. Tanner hated silence. "So you
wanna
tell me who you're running from?"
She looked at him with
fear flashing in her eyes. "I shouldn't say anything. I don't want to get
anyone in trouble."
She'd been crying, he
noticed with a pulse of anger. "Lady ... Bethany, excuse me if I'm being
rude, but I know an abused woman when I see one. And if someone's hurting you,
believe
me,
I can make the motherfucker regret
it." He balled his hands into fists, pushing the image of his sister,
bloody, bruised, and crying, out of his head.
She gaped at him.
"I can't—"
The diner door crashed
open. Bethany all but jumped out of her seat and Tanner twisted round in his to
see a lean, mean-faced guy walk in. He was dressed all in black, making Tanner
think of crows and undertakers. He zeroed right in on Bethany and a thunderous
look turned his face from mean to cruel. He strode over, yelling as he
approached.
"What are we
taught, Bethany?" he bellowed. "'Let a woman learn quietly with all
submissiveness.' Have you shown submissiveness? Have you shown quietness? How
dare you!"
Bethany cowered back in
her seat and Tanner leapt up, stepping between her and the man. "What the
fuck is this?" he asked. The other guy was shorter than him and Tanner
used his size to his advantage, cutting the guy off from Bethany. "You
wanna
come in here yelling at someone, how about someone
who wants a fight?"
The man somehow managed
to look down his nose at Tanner. "Step aside. This is nothing to do with
you." He tried to skirt round Tanner, but Tanner grabbed his arm.
"It is if I
fucking decide it is."
"Tanner!" Mia
yelled a warning from behind the counter, but he ignored her. If this fucker
tried anything, Tanner was laying him out.
"Bethany, are you
going to hide behind this barbarian?" the man asked. "Are you a
coward on top of everything else, girl?"
Oh man. Tanner itched
to smack him. The contempt in his voice just made Tanner's skin crawl.
He heard Bethany sidle
out of the booth. "Nathaniel, please." Her voice shook but didn't
break,
and Tanner felt a spurt of irrational pride.
"Just ... just let me go. I'll disappear, I won't make any trouble,
I
won't talk to anyone."
"Go where?"
Nathaniel mocked. "Do what? You're a foolish girl and you're destined for
a bad end if you walk away from the Church. You know this." He tried to
pull loose of Tanner's grip without success and glowered at the bigger man.
"Look at what awaits you out here, Bethany.
Thugs,
and worse. You have a place in the Church.
An important
place."
He softened his voice, cajoling. "Come home now and
your punishment won't be harsh."
"Punishment!"
Tanner saw red. "What
kinda
fucking church is this?"
"I won't go
back," Bethany said desperately. "I won't, Nathaniel, I can't."
"'But
the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.'
Whatever life you think you can
have, Bethany, you're wrong." Nathaniel tried once more to shake Tanner
off, and this time Tanner let him. "You will come home now and you will
praise God that I found you before you were raped or murdered, and you will
accept your place like the good girl I know you are." He gave her an oily
smile and reached out to touch her.
Bethany slapped his
hand away. "No!"
Nathaniel's face turned
purple. "I won't be defied, you little Jezebel!" He smacked her.
Bethany staggered back with a cry.
Tanner snapped. He
swung at Nathaniel hard, taking grim satisfaction from the meaty sound of his
fist ploughing into Nathaniel's jaw. The other man swayed,
then
crashed to the floor like a felled tree.
"Tanner! Out!
Out now!"
Mia stormed over, thrusting her finger toward
the door, her face red with rage. "And take her with you!"
Tanner glanced at
Bethany. She was holding her face, tears in her eyes, but her expression as she
stared at the unconscious Nathaniel was one of gleaming pleasure.
"Mia," Tanner
started, feeling he should at least pretend to be sorry he'd clocked a dude in
her diner. She waved him silent as she knelt down beside Nathaniel.
"Just go before he
comes round and you start more trouble."
Tanner wanted to
protest that Nathaniel had started it—slapping a woman, seriously. What the
fuck?—but he knew better than to argue with Mia. He took Bethany by the hand.
"Come on," he said. "I think we've just outstayed our
welcome."
Chapter Three
Beth didn't protest as
Tanner hustled her out of the diner and toward his bike. Partly she was just
too shocked to—the sight of Nathaniel had filled her with dread and her head
was ringing from his smack. But partly she didn't
want
to. Seeing Tanner
punch Nathaniel had filled her with a dark glee she would never have guessed
herself capable of. Her initial impression of Tanner, that he was a protector,
was solidified. He'd defended her and he had no reason to, just as Mia had no
reason to be so kind to her.
This was not what the
Church had taught her. It was both bewildering and exhilarating.
Tanner all but threw
her on his bike. "Where are we going?" she asked, breathless at how
quickly it had all happened.
"Home," he
said, revving the engine.
She had a split-second
of panic, and then realized he had to mean his own home, not hers. She locked
her arms around his waist as they shot away from the diner, closing her eyes
against the driving rain.
Nobody had ever fought
for her before. Nobody had ever stood up for her. Tanner may as well have
turned water into
wine, that
was how miraculous his
actions seemed. Beth hoped it wouldn't get him into trouble. Would Mia call the
police? Nathaniel, she was almost positive, would not. That wasn't the Church
way. You handled things internally, with guidance from Abram. He was fond of
saying that no earthly authority could hold dominion over the Church.
She opened her eyes as
she felt the rain slacken, and watched the horizon fill with buildings. Fields
and farmlands gave way to houses and gardens, and she saw tall buildings
punching up into the dark sky, taller than anything she'd ever seen before.
People
lived
up there? It must be terrifying.
Or maybe
beautiful, to be so close to the sky.
She squinted to make
out the town sign as they zipped past, just about able to read "Welcome to
Warren's Mill" before the sign was behind them.
Warren's
Mill.
It sounded nice.
Quaint and peaceful.
Not
like Tanner.
He slowed down as they
navigated the streets, giving Beth time to see a town that seemed stuck
somewhere between 1950s Americana and the modern world as she envisioned it. A
cafe bright with vintage Coca Cola signs in the window and aqua blue vinyl
seats. Minimalist stores with a single black dress on display. On one street
corner she saw an abandoned car, rusted and peeling, the exposed metal
sun-baked
.
On the next, a row of clubs
promising live music, cheap drinks, and hot girls in turn.
The weather
was keeping a lot of people indoors, but she saw men in leather pants with
brightly-colored hair, old women walking tiny dogs, and young couples smoking
in bus shelters.
It was more life than
she'd seen in her entire twenty-two years, and it was enough to wipe the
Church, Abram, and Nathaniel from her mind.
They rode all the way
through town until they emerged on the other side, where fields and a rushing
river greeted them. Tanner pulled up outside a three-story building that was a
mixture of beige bricks and white wooden slats. Bikes and trucks were lined up
outside and she could just make out the thud of music within.
“This is your home?”
she asked Tanner as they got off his bike. The size of the building daunted
her.
“Kind
of.
This is the
Wild Blood MC clubhouse. So it’s like my second home. It used to be the mill, as
in Warren's Mill.” Tanner gave her a chagrined look. “You’re soaking wet again.
Come on, let’s get inside.” He took her hand and led her to the door, then
hesitated. “Come to think of it, let’s go round the back.”
She followed silently,
wondering why he’d changed his mind. Was she embarrassing? Someone he didn’t
want his friends or family to see him with? The thought stung, but she couldn’t
bring herself to ask. He’d helped
her this
far. She’d
just have to trust that he’d help her a little more. All she really needed was
an idea of where to head next, and then she could thank him and be on her way.
Round the back of the
old mill was a clearing full of dirt that the storm had turned to mud. She
could see tire tracks everywhere, in wide loops and tight circles, and guessed
Tanner and his friends spent a lot of time back here just playing around on
their bikes. She’d seen a few shows on TV that had left her with the impression
that all men really wanted out of life was a car or motorbike to play with.
Tanner pushed open a
pair of tall wooden doors and ushered her in. She found herself in a cold room
stacked with crates of beer and smelling of sawdust. The ceiling was high and
beamed, and she could see it had been a beautiful building once. Time had left
the wood scarred and worn, but there was a sense of age and history that came
with that, and she liked it. The Church houses were old and worn too, but that
was a matter of miserliness. Abram refused to pay for repairs by outsiders,
insisted that everyone learned to maintain their own properties … But he didn’t
give anyone the resources to do it.
“Now,” Tanner said,
drawing her attention back to him. “Uh … Fuck, how do I put this?”
She braced herself.
Nobody started a sentence like that and followed it with anything good.
“You know anything
about MCs?” he asked her.
Beth shook her head.
“Okay then.” He seemed
nervous, running his hands over his
stubbled
jaw over
and over, his dark eyes narrowed. He had beautiful lashes, she noticed
absently.
Long and thick and dark.
“Well, I’m no
rocket scientist, but I don’t have to be to see you’ve come from a … a gentler
environment, right?”
She burst out laughing.
She couldn’t help herself. “Gentler? No.
Definitely not.”
He looked surprised.
“Sheltered then?
Cloistered?”
“Cloistered,” she
agreed. “That’s the right word.”
“Well, MC clubs are pretty
rowdy sometimes.” He sounded almost apologetic. “Drinking, a little pot, you
know,” Tanner continued. “But I want you to know,
Bethany,
that
my brothers are good guys, okay? Nobody here will hurt you, no
matter what.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. “And if
some bastard shows up and tries to snatch you, you’ve got all of us on your
side, right?”
She believed him. Not
just because she’d already seen him take out Nathaniel, but because he simply
breathed sincerity. His gaze was intense, fixed on her as if she was all that
existed. His touch was gentle, but she could feel the strength in those fingers
and she trusted that he would never turn that strength against her. It was
dizzying, this unexpected faith in this unexpected man.
She smiled up at him
and tried to put her faith into the smile. “Thank you.”
He let his fingers
slide off her shoulders, almost a caress. “Okay then. So let’s get you dry
again and then maybe we can talk about that dude at the diner.”
He took her through the
store room and into a narrow corridor where the pounding music was suddenly
much louder. She saw a staircase at the end of the corridor and several doors
branching off it. Tanner opened one of the doors to reveal a spacious kitchen,
decorated country-style with wooden cupboards and a huge island in the middle.
Every surface seemed to be covered in empty cans, bottles, and pizza boxes. The
sink was stacked with unwashed plates and dirty glasses. The odor of cheese and
barbecue sauce hung in the air, and Beth recoiled, hoping Tanner wasn’t
planning to leave her there.
“It’s a little messy,”
Tanner said unnecessarily. He waved her toward the kitchen table. “Take a seat.
I’m
gonna
go find you some dry clothes.”
He left before she
could answer, so she sat down and stared at the pizza boxes and beer cans. She
sniffed a can. The smell was sweet and yeasty, and much more pleasant than
she’d always imagined. The only alcohol the Church allowed was red wine on
Sundays, and then only a tiny sip from a glass that was passed around the
congregation. Abram said alcohol opened the mind to the Devil. Beth had always
privately thought she might enjoy that.
The kitchen door swung
open and she turned, expecting Tanner. Instead, an older man with a shaved head
and a gray-flecked black beard strode in. He was carrying a crate of beer and
whistling to himself, and when he saw Beth, his face contorted into a ferocious
scowl.
“Who the
fuck are
you and what the fuck are you doing in here?”
She cringed,
automatically dropping her gaze to stare at the stains on the cracked tiles.
She heard herself mumble something—an apology probably—but it did nothing to
lessen his anger.
“Now listen. I know you
didn’t come in through the front and I sure as hell
ain’t
having
no
thieves in here, so—”
“Tanner brought me!”
Beth cried. The accusation, the very idea, that she was a thief jerked her out
of her habitual submissiveness.
The big guy snorted and
set down his crate on top of another, empty crate. “Oh he did, did he? And he
just dumped you in here?
What,
are you the new fucking
maid or something?” He leaned against the counter, looking her over in a
critical way that reminded her painfully of Abram. “Sure don’t look good for
fuck—”
“
Rattler,
shut your fucking mouth.” Tanner stomped back in, looking genuinely angry.
“Show some respect to the lady.”
“Respect is earned,
kid.” Rattler popped open a beer and took a deep swig, then leered at Beth. “If
she's
gonna
be your new back warmer, she needs to
grow a spine or she’ll get eaten alive.”
“Funny how the only
people who ever say ‘respect is earned’ are the bastards who think
they
don’t have to earn it.” Tanner
moved beside Beth, putting one hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “C’mon,
Bethany, it’s getting a little crowded in here for my tastes.”
He walked her to the
door. Beth could feel Rattler’s eyes on her as they moved and it sent shivers
down her spine. As they left, he called after Tanner. “What, you think you get
respect just for being in the slammer? You’re on thin ice, kid. You need to
watch your mouth.”
Tanner shut the kitchen
door firmly. “He’s full of shit,” he said, more to himself than Beth. “I
borrowed some clothes off one of the girls.
Ready for another
outfit?"
Beth hurried up the
stairs after him, head spinning. “You were in prison?” Her stomach knotted up.
Had she been that naive, that stupid?
Tanner paused on the
stairs, turning to frown down at her. “I was … Yeah, I was. I mean, not for
anything bad …”
“You don’t go to prison
for doing good deeds,” she argued.
His frown turned into a
menacing scowl. “We can talk about it later.” He all but ran up the stairs, and
Beth was forced to run after him. His obvious anger—or was it shame?—ate at
her. She felt like she’d hurt him by asking, but really, was she supposed to
ignore it? He’d said she’d be safe here and that guy, Rattler, had made her
feel anything but safe. And now Tanner turned out to be an ex-convict. Once
again the horror stories she’d heard all her life filled her head. The world
beyond the Church was dark, dangerous, and deadly, and she’d trusted the first
man she’d run into.
She didn't want to
believe it he was dangerous, but how could she just ignore it?
Her head pounded and
exhaustion swept her. She’d fled the Church, run through the storm, nearly been
run over, and narrowly escaped Nathaniel, all in a matter of hours.
And now this.
Her savior … a criminal?
It all hit her like a physical blow. She realized she was shaking, from cold,
adrenaline, and
fear,
and she stopped, leaning against
the rough bricks for support. The tears that she’d managed to stifle back at
the diner returned in a flood.
Tanner turned. “Oh
shit, no … Hey, don’t cry.” He ran back to meet her and Beth squeaked as he
scooped her up in his arms as if she were feather-light. “Goddammit, I can take
anything but women crying.” He cradled her against his chest and carried her up
the stairs. “When I was a kid, my sister could get me to do anything by turning
on the waterworks. Fucking embarrassing, I can tell you.”
Despite her doubts,
Beth cuddled into him. Her worries about impropriety melted away. He was warm
and solid, and she loved that leathery-musk scent from his jacket. It was
irresistible and she wanted to go back to just a few minutes ago, before
Rattler, when she’d trusted absolutely that Tanner was some kind of guardian
angel.
I’ll never survive out
here, she thought, clinging to him. But I can’t go back. So what now?