Torched: Afterburn (Iron Serpents Motorcycle Club Book 2) (7 page)

“I burned all those bridges. My parents moved to California when they retired and we haven’t talked in years anyway, they’re really religious and hated that I got in with the MC. As for friends… well, the club was my life for a long time. All of that went away too.”

“So where are you staying right now?”

She looked away. “In my car. Zed gave me a beater Corolla that somebody abandoned at the shop. He’s helped me out a couple times on the down low. But please don’t tell Torch, he’ll get pissed.”

Interesting little tidbit she’d revealed there, but it didn’t surprise me. Of all the guys, Zed had always seemed like the most empathetic. “What Zed does in his personal life and how he spends his money is his business,” I said with a shrug. “Torch doesn’t need to know.”

“I appreciate it. Don’t worry, I’ll pay him back. This is just a rough patch, I’ll figure something out. I have to.”

It sounded like more than a “rough patch” to me, more like being dealt one shit hand after another. And if there was anything I could relate to, it was fighting just to get from one day to the next.

Our burgers came out and I watched silently as she inhaled that too. I was seeing a side of Nadia that I could respect. She hadn’t made the best decisions in life, but at least she kept trying and didn’t forget her debts. I got the sense she could be more than one of those people who simply talked a good game. Whether she believed it herself, I knew deep down she had the strength to turn good intentions into positive results. It would just take a little coaxing and somebody to take a chance on her.

“Are you still clean?” I asked as she took her last bite.

“Four months next week,” she replied proudly. “I know I look like shit, but it’s from stress, not drugs. Weed to help me sleep sometimes, but that’s it.”

I could work with that. “And you’re willing to put in the work to get your life together?”

“Liv, I’d clean sewers right now if somebody would hire me. All I want is a little apartment to come home to and a fridge that has food in it, I’m done with the other shit. Getting high and forgetting your problems for a couple hours doesn’t make them go away.”

No shit. “Most of the time they’re even worse by the time you sober up.”

She nodded. “I
know
that’s true.”

I leaned back in my seat and stared at her, debating whether the next words out of my mouth would end up biting me in the ass. “I’ll talk to Torch about giving you a job. I think they could use some help at the hardware store and you wouldn’t be around dealers or drunks there.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t ask you to do that. He’d never go for it anyway, Torch really
does
hate me—”

“Torch doesn’t hate you,” I cut in, “he’s just protective. But you’re not a threat, right?”

“No. I swear, Liv, I’d never try to cause problems for you guys. Honestly, I don’t think I ever really loved him, I just felt rejected. Which was stupid because I knew exactly what I signed up for. Booze, drugs, and hating yourself don’t mix too well. It’s embarrassing to even think about.”

“Then don’t. Your past doesn’t have to define you.”

She got serious again and looked away. “You don’t understand, it’s not just the club stuff. You shouldn’t stick you ass out for me, I’ve been screwing up my whole life.”

And she’d clearly had a lot of people along the way reminding her of it, her self-esteem was fucking shot. I had no idea what Nadia had gone through and I wasn’t about to pry, but I considered myself a pretty good judge of character and all I was picking up on was a lot of deep-seated self-loathing. “Nad, we all fuck up, we all carry burdens, and we all compare ourselves to other people. But the truth is we’re also all just winging it. I don’t really know you, but I know it took guts to approach me today. I’m not a complicated woman. If you respect me, I’ll respect you. I also love a good comeback story and I’m trying to help you make one happen because I think you’re capable of turning things around. Are you interested in hearing the terms or do you wanna keep arguing and fishing for negatives?”

She briefly paused, but then bobbed her head enthusiastically. “Yes, sorry.”

“Okay then. After we leave here, I’ll get you a room and pay for the next month so you have two checks in the bank before you have to start paying your own way. That’s assuming the club agrees to hire you, but you let me worry about that. You’ll pee in a cup before every shift, anything harder than weed is off limits. You’ll also stay away from the clubhouse indefinitely and you’ll take a class at the community college. I don’t care what subject, as long as it’s something you can focus on and get excited about. I’ll help you pay for that too, but if you fail, I expect my money back. You only get one shot. Those are the conditions, it’s up to you to decide whether they’re worth it.”

Tears began forming in the corners of her tired eyes. “Why would you do that for me? I’m nobody to you.”

“Because you can be something to somebody one day, you just need a fucking break and some self-confidence. I’ve been there. Torch was the one who stepped up when I was at my lowest point and he didn’t know me either. If he hadn’t spoken up on my behalf to a friend of his who gave me a job and place to stay so I could get a good start, I wouldn’t have made it long. Let’s just call this paying it forward.”

“I don’t… I don’t even know what to say,” she muttered. “Thank you… I won’t let you down. I promise I’ll work my ass off. God… thank you so much.”

I handed her a napkin. “You’re welcome. Don’t fuck it up.”

Nadia laughed and wiped her snotty nose. “I can see why.”

“Why what?”

“Why no other woman ever stood a chance with him. Torch hit the fucking old lady lottery with you.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m the one who lucked out.”

She looked down and got lost in her own thoughts for a moment. When she finally spoke, it was with a forlorn tone. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Zed… He wouldn’t tell me anything but he said you’ve been through a lot, the kind of shit most people have to go to therapy to deal with. How did you get over it?”

I snickered and shook my head. “Sweetie, I’m the last person you should be asking for psychological advice.”

“But you’ve lived in the real world,” she argued. “You’re more qualified than some book-smart shrink who can’t relate.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean you should follow my example. Zed’s right, I did go through some really bad shit for a while. I
did
a lot of bad shit. And I don’t really like talking about it.”

“I’m not trying to be nosy or get in your personal business,” she interjected, “I just wanna know if that stuff still bugs you. You know, bad memories?”

I shook my head and answered honestly. “Not usually, no.”

“How? Did you get hypnotized or something?”

“I think that’s supposed to bring out suppressed memories, not the other way around.” I sighed, slightly irritated that Zed had even brought it up to her. I knew he always came from a good place and probably mentioned it during a pep talk without giving any details, but the day had started so well and talking about my past was a total fucking buzzkill. “Look… The truth is I haven’t gotten over anything. I compartmentalize shit in my head and don’t let myself stew on things I can’t change. I didn’t get into computers just because I was good at it, I did it because technology evolves from one day to the next and staying on top of it keeps me busy. Trust me, those memories would probably destroy me if I actually let my mind go there. But I don’t, I force myself to think about other things, it’s just what I’ve always had to do. By the time things got really bad for me in high school, I’d already been taking care of myself for a long time. And you know… looking back… I don’t think I had a chance to develop all those emotional skills you’re supposed to as a kid. I didn’t have a support system or unconditional love and you can’t miss something you’ve never experienced. Maybe that’s why I got through what I got through without losing my mind, I spent so much energy on just staying afloat that I didn’t really have any left over to be sad or feel bad for myself. The bad shit lasted years, but it doesn’t take long in any kind of prison to realize that the easiest way to survive is to disassociate from the worst of it.”

“It’s that easy? You just think about something else?” she asked.

I saw where she was going with this. “For me? Yeah. But you’re not me, Nadia, you’ve traveled a different road. Listen, we both know life can get pretty ugly and nobody comes from the same place. I’m a jaded realist. I don’t see humans as some special snowflakes in the animal kingdom. We may be the most evolved but we’re motivated by food, sex, and survival, the same as every other species. And just like in the wild, shit happens. For me, that means you accept it, react, and go back to hunting for your next meal. But like I said, that’s
my
way of getting through it, you need to figure out your own. If it helps to talk, then talk. It’s not like a quick stint in rehab always fixes everything. They have counselors at the community college or you can look for one in town. There’s absolutely no shame in needing someone to vent to or get an outside opinion from, it doesn’t make you weak.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Not at all. You’ve already proved how strong you are just by coming back to this town knowing it would be an uphill climb.”

“I guess—”

“No guessing. Quit focusing on the doubts and take things one day at a time, it’s all anybody can do.” I dropped cash on the table, slid out of our booth, and grabbed my helmet. “You ready to get going?”

She scooted to her feet too and wrapped her arms around me. “Yeah. Thank you again, Liv. You won’t regret it.”

: 6 :

| TORCH |

The smell of steaks and brats was making his stomach rumble, but Torch was hungry for something that tasted even better and had a pulse. Where the fuck was his woman and why wasn’t she answering her goddamn phone?

He’d had a long ass day of working in the salvage yard behind the clubhouse, baking in hundred-plus degree heat while tearing apart cars and appliances to get ready for the compactor. Scrap metal was a lucrative business for the club, they normally loaded up a flatbed truck and made a run to an exporter in New Mexico every three or four months. But with bills to pay, shit to fix in the clubhouse and shop, and business down across all of their ventures with no sign of when it might pick up, they’d decided to go through the piles and try to scrounge up an extra load.

It was the middle of the week and he would’ve thought that everybody would be too tired to party after hours of manual labor, but Zed and Grimm had made a run to the grocery store and fired up the grill.

Sweaty, sore as shit, and ready for a night of cold beer and sweet pussy, he pulled out his phone to call Liv for a third time when Buddha came strutting across the courtyard.

“The bar’s back in business!” he hollered. Amid hoots and whistles, he approached Torch and patted him on the back. “I heard your old lady paid Jan Collins a visit today. Not only did our license get reinstated, but the cops dropped the investigation. That bitch is a fucking
tiger
.”

Torch chuckled and checked the time on his phone. “Not even thirty-six hours since we got the notice, that’s gotta be some kind of political problem solving record.”

Zed came jogging over and handed Buddha a thick, cardboard envelope. “A courier just dropped this off, said it’s from Jan Collins.”

Buddha’s smile turn into a confused frown as he took it and tore it open. His eyes about popped out of his head when he pulled out two straps of hundred-dollar bills. “Holy shit, this is twenty grand. What the fuck?”

It didn’t look like they’d have to wait long for an explanation. Hearing Liv’s bike, Torch glanced over at the gate and saw her finally rolling in.

She was all smiles as she dropped her helmet on the seat and walked over. “Hey,” she cooed, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I take it we’re having a barbecue?”

“Apparently, we should’ve picked up some lobster and champagne instead,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You wanna explain why we just got an envelope stuffed with cash from the councilwoman?”

“That would be for the damages her dumbass son caused. What’s on the grill? I’m starving.”

Changing the topic, a classic up-to-no-good response. “Babe, that glass won’t cost more than a couple grand. She sent twenty.”

“I know. I also billed her for lost revenue and emotional distress.”

“You’re insane,” he smirked. “Emotional distress?”

“And she just rolled over?” Buddha asked.

Liv grimaced. “
Weeell…
”

Torch groaned, suddenly remembering who they were dealing with. “Babe, what did you fucking do?”

“Hey,
I
didn’t do anything, it’s what Jan
used
to do. Did I forget to mention that she turned to working for a high-end escort service after her breadwinner husband died five years ago? And there’s video.”

“Yeah, you kinda forgot to mention that,” he snickered. “Figures though, it’s always the uppity bitches who’ve got shit to hide.”