Chapter Eleven
The only one who seemed to get any sleep that night was Branch, and that was because the man managed to be able to sleep through anything. Even if a nuclear bomb was dropped in Destiny, Draven figured the only calm person would be Branch since he’d sleep through the whole world’s end.
As for him, he sat on the porch watching the sun rise. His eyes felt like scratching posts for cats. They were gritty and raw and he had no doubt they were probably bloodshot. He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink. He kept picturing Dove in Cade’s arms, kissing him passionately. Jealousy had reared its head and wouldn’t let go of him. Thinking of the devil, Cade walked outside clutching a mug that had steam rising from the top. He walked over to the rail and leaned a hip against it as he studied Draven.
“I can watch the rest of the morning,” Cade said.
“Fuck off.”
Cade sighed and took a sip of coffee. “You look like shit.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re no picnic yourself.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Good,” Draven muttered. “That makes me feel a helluva lot better.”
“Cut it out, John.”
“Why? Will you shoot me like you did Tom?”
“Shut up. You don’t know anything.”
Draven surged to his feet. “I know he lowered his gun. I know he was surrendering to you. And I know you shot him. What else do I need to know?”
Cade didn’t answer. He just stood there staring at him. Draven wanted to hit something but knew it wasn’t the right time to take this fight up, not with Branch sleeping on the couch and not with Dove still in danger.
“Stay away from Dove,” he ordered.
“I can’t do that, John.”
“She’s not a fucking job, Vanaker!”
“I know that!” Cade roared back. “Jesus, John! Why can’t you fucking trust that I’ll protect her with my life?”
“Maybe because I don’t think you give a shit about life,” Draven stated. “Am I wrong? Tell me, have you ever been held accountable for the actions you committed that night?”
“I did what I had to do.”
“Right,” Draven sneered. “Don’t touch Dove again.”
As he swung around, he stopped, surprised to see Dove standing in the doorway. Her gaze darted back and forth between them, and he wondered how much she’d heard.
“Morning, Dove,” Cade said smoothly, as if he and Draven hadn’t been yelling at each other.
“I wish you two wouldn’t fight,” she whispered. “And I wish I wasn’t the cause of your fighting.”
“No, sweetheart, it’s not you,” Draven said. He waved his hand between him and Cade. “There’s just a lot between us.”
She nodded and he saw the sadness in her eyes just as Branch came up behind her, scratching his head.
“Dudes,” he said after a huge yawn. “I slept like shit.”
“Your snoring suggested otherwise,” Draven replied dryly.
“I didn’t sleep either,” Dove murmured. She wiped the corner of her eye.
Draven felt like shit and he glanced quickly at Cade, who looked as upset as he felt. They’d both vowed not to hurt her and here they were upsetting her.
“Are you really attached to staying here?” Branch asked.
Draven frowned as he tried to refocus on what he was saying. “Huh?”
“I was thinking you should follow North’s advice to move into the clubhouse,” Branch said. “It makes more sense. You’d have twenty-four-hour protection, there’s only one way in and out, and at night the gate is locked tight.”
“It does make sense,” Cade replied.
“But the girls,” Draven muttered toward him. “Club girls.”
“Just make it clear Dove doesn’t pay dues like usual.”
“What do you mean pay dues?” Dove asked.
Branch snickered and walked away.
“To make a club run, everyone pays dues,” Draven explained.
“Even you and North?”
“Yep,” Draven confirmed. “No one is exempt.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t have access to my money.”
“It’s okay, Dove,” he assured her. “I’ll make sure to let everyone know you’re not supposed to pay.”
“But you said no one is exempt.”
“Well, then I’ll pay your dues.”
She glanced at Cade. “Do you pay?”
He nodded.
“What happens if you haven’t any money?”
Draven wiped a hand over his face. “We put them to work…or other things.”
“I can work,” she promised. “It’s a community. I understand, John. I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty. Is this what the club girls do?”
Draven cleared his throat. “Um, sometimes. Yeah.”
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go to the clubhouse. I’m sure you two will feel more comfortable surrounded by the members.”
She turned and walked back into the house, leaving Draven and Cade on the porch.
“Gotta tell the sweet butts not to mess with her,” Cade murmured.
“I sure hope she doesn’t find out what sweet butt means,” Draven muttered back as he walked into the house to pack up some clothes.
* * * *
Dove wasn’t sure what she expected the clubhouse to look like—maybe a huge house with barbecue pits next to it and men sitting around drinking beer. The clubhouse was a huge structure sitting next to several auto garages where men worked on bikes. More bikes were lined up next to it in front of a huge wall of tires. A high fence surrounded the area with guard posts at each corner. Rolled barbed wire rested on the top, and as they approached, the gate slid open. Big, burly men waved at them as Draven drove his bike over to where the others were parked.
The gate rolled shut behind them. Was this some type of fortified compound? A fortress? Why would the Red Wolves need this much security?
“I can see the questions on your face,” Draven said as he shut off the motor. “There’s a rival club in Destiny, a group called the Demon Devils. There was a turf war for a while, and all this was built then to protect the Wolves.”
She waited for Draven to get off the bike, and as she placed a foot on the ground, Cade was there helping her off the back. For a moment, their eyes locked and his fingers tightened imperceptibly on her hips. She saw desire flare in his dark eyes, and her own body responded immediately, a sort of sexual Pavlov’s dog reaction.
Then someone shouted Draven’s name, which snapped her out of her haze, and Cade dropped his hands from her body. Part of her missed his touch, but the rational side of her brain reminded her that she couldn’t get between their differences. Cade handed her the bag she’d put her belongings in before escorting her to Draven’s side.
“Let me show you inside,” Draven told her. “Then I’ll find you a room. You’ll be safe here. See these men? They will protect you.”
Dove glanced around. Some men had long hair or long beards and some had both. Tattoos were visible on almost every man. They wore lots of leather and lots of denim, and each vest held a red band around the bottom with the Red Wolves insignia patched in the middle. Some wore bandana headbands, some wore wallet chains and almost all had a cigarette in their mouths.
And although some might find them scary, these bikers weren’t scary to her. Her father would have snatched her up and declared war on them just for daring to talk to her, but these men represented safety and freedom. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she’d finally found somewhere she could belong.
Draven opened the clubhouse door, nodding to a man who had the word ‘prospect’ on his vest. The cool, dark interior gave it an air of mystery. A bar lay on one side and she glimpsed a pool table in the back. Men lounged on sofas watching some type of sports game on a huge television. A couple of women hung around the men, kissing or cuddling who they were with. Draven led her over to the bar where an old man with long gray hair and glasses sat looking through a ledger.
“Hey, Pete,” Draven greeted.
The old man looked up and smiled. He held up a hand, and Draven grasped it as they gave a manly type of a shoulder-patting hug.
“This is Dove Aldrin,” Draven introduced. “And that’s Cade Vanaker, a nomad I hooked up with in Vegas. Dove, Cade, this is Pistol Pete.”
Pete gave a Cade a once-over that seemed to dismiss him immediately, but with her, Pete took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“Welcome to the Red Wolves, my dear,” he greeted. “This old clubhouse needed something beautiful to brighten its walls. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Dove smiled and nodded. The woman behind the bar walked over.
“What can I get y’all?” she asked.
“Nothing for me, Lovey,” Draven said.
Cade shook his head. Dove held out her hand to the woman, who was tall, built like a man’s wet dream, and seemed to have kind eyes.
“I’m Dove,” she introduced herself.
“Lovey,” the woman replied, taking her hand and shaking it. But before she let go, she brought Dove’s wrist up to inspect the bandages. “I hope you didn’t do this to yourself.”
Dove shook her head. “I was abducted and my wrists were bound together with a zip tie.”
Lovey’s mouth dropped open. “Are you fucking with me?”
“Watch your mouth, Lovey,” Draven warned.
“Sorry,” Lovey replied, grimacing.
Dove waved away the apology. “He has said way worse to me. But no, I wasn’t fucking with you.”
Cade chuckled and Draven glared at him.
“What can I get you, Dove?”
“I’ll just take water. I’m still on antibiotics.”
“Oh, right.” Lovey grabbed a bottle of water and opened it before handing it over. “I should’ve realized that. I took a few nursing courses.”
“You want to be a nurse?”
Lovey nodded. “Once upon a time I did. Life kind of took a turn for me.” She shrugged. “I’m lucky the Wolves took me in.”
“You tend bar here?”
“Well, that and warming beds.”
Dove cocked her head.
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, I’m a sweet butt.”
“What’s that?” Dove asked.
“Ah, crap,” she heard Draven mutter.
Chapter Twelve
The phone rang throughout the bar, and Gray Dog glanced at it as he wiped dried water spots from a glass. Not much filled him with dread, but knowing who was on the other end of that phone managed to sour his stomach.
On the fourth ring, he picked it up.
“Yeah?”
“You had one fucking job to do and you still fucked it up,” the man on the other end growled at him. “After all I’ve done for you and your club, this is how you repay my help?”
“That’s not it,” Gray Dog insisted. “The kid leaned in front of her. It was a fluke.”
“That fluke has put the bitch behind the Wolves’ compound. If you know how to reach her, I’m all ears.”
“I’ve got a plan forming. Just bear with me and you’ll have her soon.”
“Oh, I no longer want just her, Lester,” the man sneered. “I want you to correct your other two mistakes.”
“Other two? What do you mean?”
“Merrie Walden and Allison Evening. I want lose ends tied up.”
“No one has tied those women to
you
,” Gray Dog stressed. “If you start fucking with them, I’m the first suspect. Halloran comes knocking on my door.”
“Do you think I care about your incompetence?”
“You should! I can be linked back to you, or have you forgotten that?”
Silence descended, and for a moment, Gray Dog felt it stretch into eternity. There wasn’t much that spooked him, but the man on the other end of the call was a sick, cold bastard who had no soul.
“I don’t like loose ends,” the man reiterated then abruptly hung up.
Gray Dog stared at the receiver for a moment then replaced it in its cradle. As he went back to wiping glasses, he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a threat.
* * * *
“Draven,” North called out from the doorway of the church office. “Can I see you a minute?”
Dove watched as he walked quickly away, as if almost glad to be leaving. She turned curious eyes toward Cade. “What’s a sweet butt?”
“Ah… Well, it’s a term used for a club groupie,” he explained.
“Oh.” She looked speculatively at Lovey. “You’re a groupie?”
Lovey frowned at Cade. “I provide sexual services to the men in order to live here.”
“You do what?” Dove asked, blinking at Lovey.
“Wait a minute,” Lovey said, setting down her dishtowel. She walked around the bar and took Dove by the hand to lead her to a table in the corner. She sat and gestured for Dove to do the same.
“I take care of the guys sexually and they take care of me,” she explained once again, shrugging.
“Are you…okay with that?”
Lovey nodded and patted Dove’s hand. “Yes. It’s a symbiotic relationship.”
Dove eyed her carefully, trying to make sure Lovey was telling her the truth. The thought of sleeping with all the men just to have a roof over her head didn’t sit right with her, although she understood the concept. Dove glanced over at the pool table where two members were playing, and she tried to gage if she was attracted to them or not.
Nope. Not one itty-bitty stirring.
“It’s demeaning, isn’t it?” Dove asked.
Lovey took a deep breath. “Truthfully, this club saved my life. And I wouldn’t change anything about my place here with the Wolves.”
Dove cocked her head. “How did they save your life?”
Lovey was quiet for a long time and when she started talking, Dove saw that it came from somewhere deep and painful inside her.
“I was married,” she said softly. “I had a son. I had a wonderful life. And one day, it was taken away in a flash. My husband and my baby died in a car accident and I didn’t want to live. I started doing very self-destructive things. Bad things. Then one night, when I’d hit rock bottom, North Tabion found me. He brought me back to this club and forced me to sober up. Forced me to live. Forced me to remember that my husband would never have wanted me to follow him and our son into needless death. But I didn’t want a relationship again, so I settled for giving what I could. And in return, the men take care of me. I live here. I work here. And the men treat me kindly.”
At the beginning of her story, tears ran down Dove’s cheeks. Lovey smiled at her and wiped them away.