I cross my arms. “You can’t make us sit here, dude.”
Addi turns, giving me a broad grin. “Did you just call him dude?”
I throw my head back and laugh, and soon she’s joining in. The angry biker storms over, grips my arm and shakes me harshly. My teeth clatter, and my head spins just a touch. Bloody tequila shots.
“Fuckin’ hell, shut your damn mouth, girl. You two are gonna end up on your asses in a minute.”
“Tell your whores to shut their mouths!” an angry man from the back of the bar yells.
The biker turns, and gives him a truly fowl glare. “You better watch your fuckin’ mouth, or I’ll come over there and ram that pool cue up your motherfuckin’ ass.”
Addi gives me a look, but behind it I can see she’s completely amused. She came down tonight...well...last night, technically, considering it’s morning now, to have a few drinks with me after my shift.
I recently started working here, trying to get myself a little more money so I could save enough to go to college. My parents don’t know I’m here. I left after Chey died, in an attempt to escape their wallowing. It got to a point where neither of them smiled anymore, or laughed, or joked, or even held me. Cheyenne was the golden child, and somehow it turned into being my fault she’d died, because I was the one who befriended Spike in the first place.
“Uh-oh, we’ve got company and he doesn’t look happy,” Addison whispers into my ear.
I turn and follow the direction of her eyes to see Spike entering the bar. He’s furious, and his body language screams anger. His eyes are wild, his fists clenched, his chest heaving and his body rigid. Damn, he looks so gorgeous. He’s like sex on legs. He’s
that
kind of beautiful. His sandy blonde hair is messy, like he’s just rolled out of bed. His brown eyes almost look black from this distance. His dark shirt is stretched across his chest, showing off muscles I know are toned, hard and...well...sexy as fuck. His old faded jeans ride low on his hips, and his black boots are unlaced. He looks as though he wants to deck someone.
His eyes scan the crowd then fall on me and Addi. Being the typical smart-ass she is, Addi lifts her hand and waves, calling out, “Hey friend!”
Spike gives her a glare, and begins storming over. I actually take a step back. He’s quite intimidating when he wants to be - I should know, I’ve taken him on during some of his worst moods. He’s just about near Addison and I when the tall lanky guy yells out a string of rude, vulgar words. Spike stops, stiffens, and then spins around quickly. Suddenly, he’s charging toward the guy, fists balled and ready for action. The biker who was trying to get us outside lunges at him, but misses by just a few millimeters. Spike raises his fist and hits lanky guy in the face, sending him flying across the bar.
Glasses smash, girls scream, and suddenly, men are everywhere. Fists are flying, chairs are being broken and bottles are being smashed over people’s heads. Addi yelps, and takes hold of my hand, pulling me backwards. I stare, wide-eyed, as men group up and beat the living shit out of each other. Why do they do that? Someone throws a punch and suddenly they’re all in it, beating each other senseless.
Addi and I duck around a corner, just as a bottle comes soaring past our heads. It smashes against the wall, and I flinch. Shit. I didn’t mean to cause an all-out brawl, that wasn’t my intention...it was just a little fun.
“CIARA!”
I hear Spike’s booming voice, and I jerk. Shit, he’s going to abuse the hell out of me for this. I tug Addi into the dark hall, lit only by faded, yellow lights. I hear Spike bellow my name again, so I pull Addi back even further. I really do not want to take Spike on when he’s in this kind of mood. He’s not pretty when he’s like this.
Addi leans in close, whispering into my ear. “He’s going to find you honey, you better go out.”
“He’s going to kill me,” I snap back, my voice barely above a whisper.
She nods, lifting her hair into her hands and tying it up. “Join the club. Cade is going to flip when he arrives.”
“Ciara, get your motherfuckin’ ass out here,
NOW!”
Shit. Dammit. I give Addi a worried stare. At least Cade will go easy on her. Spike is far different. Spike doesn’t take people’s shit. At all. Ever.
“He won’t hurt you, honey.”
“He’s pissed, he sure as shit won’t be nice about it. He hates me.”
She shakes her head, giving me a comforting expression. “He doesn’t hate you, or he wouldn’t be here.”
“He’s here because he feels guilty...like he has to be here for the sake of Chey. I’m a pity case. He wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
Addi gives me a look, and crosses her arms. “That’s not true, and you know it. He’s going to get hold of you, so you might as well get your cute ass out there and face him.”
“Or,” I say, turning and hurrying toward the back entrance, “I could go out here and...”
“You fuckin’ take one more step toward that door, and I’ll fuckin’ drop you, Ciara.”
Stiffening at the icy voice, I slowly turn to see Spike standing at the end of the hall. He’s panting, bloody and wild with anger.
Oh shit
. Addi even takes a step back, which is odd for her, because she’s usually cocky around Spike.
“Addison, get your fuckin’ ass out front now. Your man is lookin’ for you, and he ain’t happy. Don’t even fuckin’ dare to open those pretty lips and smart mouth me.”
Addi turns, giving me a sorry expression. “I gotta go, call me,” she whispers.
“Addison!” I yell, but she’s already hurrying past Spike and out into the bar.
I stand at the end of the hall, staring at the angry biker in front of me. Seriously, part of me is still contemplating turning and running. It’s not a bad plan, considering how angry Spike is right now. His eyes are flaring, his lips tight...he’s mega pissed. Sure, I know I deserve it, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to go willingly. I lift my foot and take a step backwards, and I can see him visibly stiffen. His brown eyes flash with anger, and his jaw ticks. Shit. He’s gone far and beyond pissed.
“I’m not fucking with you, Ciara. You fuckin’ take one step, and I’ll put you over my motherfuckin’ shoulder. You turn around, get over here, and do as you’re fuckin’ told.”
Not going to happen. I spin quickly, and run toward the door. I manage to get to it, out of it, and halfway across the car lot before he gets hold of me. His fingers curl around my arm and he hauls me backwards, so hard that I slam into his body. His arm goes down and wraps around my waist, pressing my back to his chest. His other arm releases mine, and moves up and over my chest. He’s got me fully secured now, and even with my best squirming efforts, I can hardly move.
“Are you fuckin’ stupid? Didn’t anyone teach you not to piss off an already pissed off biker?” he growls into my ear.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to manhandle a woman?” I cry, struggling in his grips.
“Ain’t no woman here.”
“Fuck you, Spike.”
“Been there, done that, wasn’t memorable.”
That asshole. I lift my leg and shove it backwards, right into his knee. He bellows and lets me go, and I lurch forward. Lunging towards me, he catches my ankle and I fall, hard.
I land on my stomach, arms out in front of me, face centimeters from the dirt. He keeps hold of my ankle as I thrash and try to kick him enough to make him let go. Grunting, he crawls up my body, flattening his over mine. I shudder. I’m ashamed that I do, because right now I want to punch him, but it happens. A ripple of life runs through my body at the feeling of his hard, sexy body pressing against my back. I won’t lie; I’ve wanted to fuck Spike again since the day he took my virginity, but there’s no way I’d swallow my pride and admit that to him now.
He leans down so he’s close to my ear, his breath hot against it. “We’re goin’ to get up, walk toward my bike, get on it and leave. If you try and run, I’ll fuckin’ knock you out and throw you on unconscious.”
He probably would too. Asshole.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spit, squirming.
“Yeah, you are. Can argue all fuckin’ morning about it, or you can get up, get on my bike and I can take you home.”
“Why are you even here?” I growl. “You hate me.”
“Coz’ there ain’t no other fucker wantin’ to save your ass.”
That hurts, because he’s right. No one else would want to save my ass. Not one person except him, and he doesn’t even like me. That says a lot about my life.
“Fine,” I whisper, my voice having lost its spark. “Just take me home.”
He lifts his body off mine, and I feel his muscles moving against my back. Dammit. I manage to push myself up on my hands and knees, groaning as I do. I hear a distinct hiss, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s because I’m on my knees, flashing my ass at him, and I’m wearing nothing more than a G-string under a short skirt. I quickly push myself into a kneeling position. My cheeks flush red, and I don’t dare to turn and see his expression. He’s probably disgusted. His precious Cheyenne would have never worn something so...so...trashy. I peer down at my knees and see there’s dots of blood all over them.
“You gave me bloody knees, you jerk-off.”
He snorts, and I turn to look at him. He’s staring down at me, looking so completely breathtaking, it’s almost blinding. His arms are crossed, and his jeans have patches of dirt covering them. Fuck him for being so beautiful. It should be illegal.
“You gave me no choice,” he grinds out. “Now get up.”
I get to my feet, and dust myself off.
“Don’t know what my sister ever saw in you, chauvinistic pig,” I mumble under my breath.
“Say it out loud, Ciara. It won’t be nothin’ you haven’t fuckin’ spat at me before.”
I lift my head and glare at him. “Just take me home.”
“With fuckin’ pleasure.”
I turn, and begin walking toward his bike. I know Spike’s bike—I’ve been on the back of it many times, back when he actually liked me. That was a time I think about often. Before Chey decided she wanted him, Spike and I were great friends. Up until the night he fucked me to get to my sister.
I lift the helmet off the seat, and pull it down over my head. Spike grips his, doing the same before climbing onto the seat and starting the 105th Anniversary, Black and Gold, Softail Deluxe. It’s a beautiful bike. I climb onto the back, and put my hands on my knees. With a growl, Spike reaches back, gripping my fingers and pulling them around his waist. As soon as he lets them go, I quickly pull them back.
“I know how to be a passenger on a bike, Spike.
You
were the one who taught me how to sit, and not have to hold on.”
He exhales loudly and angrily, before reaching back for my hands. I lift them in the air.
“For fucks sake, Ciara. Give me your fuckin’ hands. I’m not in the mood to fuck around with you. I know I taught you how to hold on, but you haven’t been on a fuckin’ bike in years.”
Dammit, he’s right. Sighing in defeat, I put my hands on his sides, tangling my fingers through the belt loop holes on his faded jeans.
He walks the bike out of the parking spot, and then starts it, pulling the throttle and sending it forward. When his boots are up on the pegs, I relax a little. I’ve always hated the taking off part - call me paranoid.
Spike pulls out onto the highway, and picks up speed. The wind is cool against my face, and I close my eyes, breathing it in. I’ve always loved being on the back of his bike, we used to do it all the time. He used to pick me up each day for work and together we’d ride around, hanging out, just doing what friends do.
Then Cheyenne came into the picture.
Spike takes me to my tiny apartment, and it surprises me that he knows where it is. He stops in the driveway, and turns the bike off.
My heart begins to pound because I’m tired of all the fighting, and yet I can’t see it stopping anytime soon. I don’t want any more of it tonight. Maybe I should just walk inside, shut the door in his face and lock it. Yeah right - I know as well as he does, that won’t happen. I’m too nice. That’s what I’ve been told anyway. I can’t turn people away. I’m always trying to fix things. That’s what you get, for trying to be a good person.
“You’re bleedin’,” Spike says simply after we’re both off the bike.
I glance down at my knees. The blood is running down my legs now, and over my toes. Super.
“It’s fine, I’ll sort it.”
“My fault,” he grunts. “I’ll fix it.”
I look up, and for a moment our eyes meet and I see something else behind his hard, angry expression. Maybe it’s a speck of the boy I used to adore so much.
“It’s fine,” I whisper. “We both know you don’t really want to help me.”
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me how I feel.”
“You told me to go and die last month,” I point out, crossing my arms.
He flinches. “I was fuckin’ mad that you came back tryin’ to get my forgiveness.”
“Yeah, well, I’m fuckin’ mad that you’re here trying to help me when you’ve done nothing but treat me like shit for years.”
His eyes widen. I’m not really sure if it’s because I swore in the same tone he did, or if my words actually surprise him.
“Never made false promises to you, Ciara.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you serious?” I cry. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know how I felt about you, Spike. We were the best of friends, and you knew I had feelings there, yet you still chose to use me to get to my sister. Don’t stand here and pretend you didn’t know what you were doing. You fucked me, you took my virginity, all to get back at her.”
His eyes scan my face a moment, then he shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You wanted that fuck, Ciara. You wanted me to fuck you from the minute you turned eighteen.”
I’m shaking now. “I wanted you to
feel
it, that’s what I wanted. I wanted, no, I
needed
to be more than just a revenge fuck and yet that’s all I was. You came up to me that night, you made me feel like a fucking queen and all along, it was you just seeking out a way to make Cheyenne pay. I didn’t expect you to care about me, Spike, because clearly you didn’t, but I did expect that you would have respected me more than that, being that you were my friend,” I stop speaking, and run a shaky hand through my hair. “I thought I meant a little more to you, but I was wrong. You hurt me. You fucked me on my first time, when you should have made love. If you couldn’t have done that, you should have never come for me. You could have gone and got your revenge with some dirty slut, but no, you chose to rip my virginity from me by making me think you cared...”