Wrath (4 page)

I blinked at him and felt the muscles in my face lock down like a wall.  This didn’t feel smart.  “You don’t know me that well.”

“Can I trust you?” Rage repeated, relentless.

“Yeah...  Yeah, you can trust me.”  It was true but shit.  I felt like I was signing a death wish.

“You interested in hanging out with the club?”

That took me completely by surprise.  “What do you mean?”

“The club.  My club.  Fire and Steel.  I don’t mean as a member or nothin’.  Not yet.”

Not yet
.  Shit.  Work was one thing, but this was something else entirely.

He was asking for something completely different here.  Involvement with a club was very real, very scary, and possibly illegal.  I’d done many things in my life, but I’d never worked on the wrong side of the law.  There had always been a government mandate, duty from a higher up, sanctioning if things got messy.  I’d seen a few officers go corrupt.  And I’d heard they’d been caught in court marshalled.  It happened.  But there was a method to it all, a system that was supposed to help us catch the mistakes and stop the corruption. 

There was no system like that in civilian life.  Not like that.  That lack of structure was the hardest part about coming back home, leaving the service.

I’d thought I had adjusted to it.  Sitting in front of Rage, wondering what he needed me to do, I realized I’d been wrong.  This was so open-ended, it scared the shit out of me.  I was getting paranoid.

I made myself breathe and looked Rage in the eye.  “You just met me,” I said blandly.  “What makes you think I’d be a good person to ask?”

“You work hard, you ride, and I’m guessing you are honorable from your service.”  Rage was straight to the point.  It was a good sign, but this was an MC. 

What did he want from me?

“You were a military man.  You had a family, but you had to leave.  You earned your place there, but now you’re on your own.  You need a family.  We need a solid man.  Do you want to earn a place with us?”

His words made me consider it.  He was right.  I’d been part of a military family for so long, and then let loose into nothing.

If he meant what he said, this was a chance to have something like that again.

“You do illegal shit?” I asked, I needed to know.

“Sometimes.  Never involves women or children.  We have our rules.”  He was talking trafficking.  I’d hear about clubs doing that, here and there.  I was relieved to know I wasn’t working for one, even if I was just the mechanic.

“Murder?”

He shrugged.  “Not unless we absolutely have to, and then only in self-defense.  You know how it is.  It takes strength to defend.”  He looked me square in the eye.

I leaned back and thought about it, then nodded.  “Alright, I’ll check it out.  See how it goes.”  I knew normally they wouldn’t ask.  They’d just tell me to show up.  He had to have a reason for approaching me like this.  I was betting that, in time, I’d find out why.

“This life isn’t easy, but I’m guessing you are used to that.”

“Yeah.  I’m aware of that.”  My jaw hardened.  Oh, was I.

“Right.  We’re on a bit of an accelerated timeline.  I like the look of you, and we need prospects.  About half our club is gone.  Fallout from a conflict.  No one dead.  Yet.”

“You in the middle of a war?”

“Something like that.”  Shit.  The last things I needed was trouble.  Rage held up his hands.  “It ain’t one I started, and it ain’t one that is hot, but I’m looking for the son of a bitch that betrayed us, and until he’s gone, I can’t say it’s over.  Can you handle that?”

It was vague, but Rage seemed to have enough honor that I suspected he was telling the truth.  It had me wary though.

“Until he’s gone?”

Rage just nodded, which told me he either knew exactly what he’d do when he caught up with their turncoat – or that he didn’t.  Either way, he knew what he wanted to do, and if that happened, even I knew there would be blood.  This wasn’t a man who took betrayal lightly.

I kept my answer honest to a fault.  “Like I said, I’ll hang around a while.  We’ll see where we stand.”

That earned another nod.  “We will.  You have a background check going with my girl.  Takes a few weeks, but we’ll have enough info on you when the time comes to decide where to proceed.”

It seemed like it was all settled.

I had walked out of one war and into another.  It was dangerous, which I could deal with.  It was chaotic, and I was struggling with that.  But it was something.  Something real.  I was moving again.  I mattered again.  And I was using all of the pieces that made me feel alive.

That was it…

For the first time since I had returned home, I felt alive.  I could question the morality of it all till the cows came home, but I wasn’t about to give up this feeling. 

I’d spent enough time wandering.  Now I needed a home, and I needed it to fit me just right. 

Emma

“Have you been bartending for long?” Layla asked politely.

I shrugged. “Since I turned nineteen.”  I had worked for three years at similar, if smaller, establishments.  Those jobs had not been as overwhelming.  I knew how to do a large mix of cocktails for a middle class crowd, but this was different.   I wasn’t about to give up though.  I just needed to figure out how this crowd worked.

Kat’s Cat House was a jam-packed den of debauchery, which was useful.  So far the money flowed in my favor.  I’d made twice as much in tips as I ever had at my old place and I still had three hours to go.

This made me so happy I could sing.  I could already purchase two of the six books I needed, and by the end of the week, if this kept up, I would be able to cover my first college payment in full.

I talked to Layla in between service, always making sure to be firm but kind with the clientele.  As the one serving the drinks, I had to be. 

I was glad that Kat had warned me about “Johnny Grab-Ass.”  The guy had migrated to the end of the bar, and he was staring at me.  The way he looked at me made me uncomfortable.  I backed away slowly when I served him.

It was far easier to spend my free moments talking with Rage’s lady.  Kat thought highly of his MC, and they were part owners.  It was always smart to learn as much as I could about the people who protected the club. Plus, she said they tipped well.

“And you? What do you do?” I asked Layla, then immediately regretted it.  I shouldn’t’ve assumed that ol’ biker’s ladies didn’t do much of anything.

Layla didn’t seem upset though.  “I’m an accountant,” she replied serenely. 

I raised my eyebrows.  My hands kept moving.  There would be more orders soon, and we needed clean glasses.  And Kat’s paid well, but the dishwashing machine left streaks all over the tumblers.

“I work for the club’s garage,” Layla explained.

Ah.  “That’s great.  I’m in school.”

“Nice, how many more years you have?”

“Four semesters, but I am getting them out of the way in the summer too, so hopefully I can complete it all in a year or two.”

I loved my community college, but I was already two years behind.  It took time to come up with tuition and so I’d only been working at it part time.  The longer it took, the more I worried. 

I was pushing myself to my limit, going to school full-time and working at the bar, and I knew it.  But I needed to finish.  I was almost there…

“What are you going for?” Layla continued politely.

“Biology and sports medicine, but I want to be a physical therapist.”  That meant graduate school, but first I needed to get through college.

One hurdle at a time.

“Nice.”  She smiled at me.  “You sure about that, though? You make a damn good drink.”

I grinned, “Thanks.”  I sincerely like bartending.  And while I desperately wanted to do something more, I knew a sincere compliment when I heard one. 

Just then, I spotted her man, coming back down from Kat’s office.  Layla turned to find him, as if she could sense him.  The two of them stared at one another while he made his way across. Beside him was that tall man, the one with the frighteningly strong body and the long stare.

He caught my eye and this time, when I stared back, the jolt that went through me had nothing to do with the bass of the stereos. It was as though he was trying to capture my soul.

And instead of asking his name, I had made fun of him. 
Typical
.

In my experience humor worked better anyway.  This guy didn’t look like a man who wanted to be asked questions anyhow.

“I see the men have returned.  Yinz need anything else?” I asked, cheerfully slipping into my accent.  It was a habit that happened when I worked.  At school, I always articulated my words crisply to make sure everyone understood me.  But working the bar was more about personality than presentation.  I didn’t have to think academically here.

The bikers didn’t seem to mind a little local flavor anyhow.

“I think we’re good,” said Rage.

The other one, Wrath, was staring right into my eyes.  I wished he’d stop doing that, but we seemed to have established he was no Johnny Grab-Ass.

I took him in, the strong posture, the stance.  He moved a little stiffly when he walked.  It wasn’t quite a limp, but it was close, as if he had an injury and didn’t want it to show.  Or refused to let it stop him.  One of the two.

He was handsome but withdrawn.  Reserved.  I was surprised the women in here weren’t throwing themselves at him.  He was sexy and forbidden in all the right ways.

I also noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cut.

Wrath, they’d called him.  How did he know the MC folks?

Layla’s voice was sweet and sly as she suddenly broke into my reverie.  “Emma was just telling me about how she is in school.  Doing, what was it? Sports medicine?”

“Yes, hoping to work for a physical therapist.”  I said, blushing.  I wasn’t sure why, but suddenly I didn’t want to tell them that I was working to become one.  It was a dumb move, but too late to take it back.

“She also makes a mean Mai Tai, and she has all the dirty secrets about Kat.  You are all missing out.”  She grinned at me. 

I crooked a smile back and wiped out another glass. 

“So if you’re in school, why do you work in a place like this?” Wrath came right out with it, no apologizes.

“Don’t let my cousin hear you call it that.”

“Pretty sure she calls it that.”  Rage chuckled.

So did I.

I shrugged.  “It pays the bills.  College ain’t free, and no one else is gonna to pay my way.”

Wrath’s eyes sparkled.

He leaned into the bar.  He didn’t move as though he was trying to hit on me though.  No, this was different.  It was like he was trying to take the pressure off of something, like he wanted to hear about it.  That he leaned closer was simply a utilitarian action.  Well, for him.  If the heat rose a bit in my cheeks, well that was my problem.

“So,” he said.  “You’re an independent woman, then?”

Having him so close left me feeling a little dizzy.  I tried to shake it off by pulling a draft for another customer, but my attention would not shift from Wrath.

“I won’t owe no one,” I reasoned, trying to say something worth listening to.  I was having a hard time focusing on my words but I managed.  “And I won’t let anything stop me.  If that makes me independent, then that’s what I am.”  I wiped down the bar, forcing him to lift his arms and then moved on down. 

I took a couple more orders to catch my breath, and returned to my station to fill them.

He was still leaning there, waiting patiently.  He should have looked ridiculous.   Instead, it was as if he belonged there.  The lights highlighted the sharp planes of his face.  His shoulders were strong but relaxed, as if the weight of leaning on the counter was nothing to him.  Something about those shoulders made me wonder if he lifted weights.  But it wasn’t that.  The musculature was close, but that wasn’t all of it…

“And what about you? Are you independent?” I asked, curious.  What I really wanted to know was if he had a girlfriend, but I’d never ask that of a client.

“As independent as it gets.  No strings.  A couple of hinges though.”  He grinned.

I blinked. 
What
?

I returned to the drinks and saw John at the end of the bar, his hand raised. 

“Give me one second, Wrath.”  I tried not to exaggerate his name.  Biker handles were serious shit.  But I couldn’t help it.  I had to be honest.  He and Rage seemed like kids playing make believe to me.

Distracted, I wiped the bar and asked, “What can I get you, John?”

“Two more beers, and a lap dance, if you’re willing.”

I shot him a sharp look and kept things strictly business – my business not his.  “Two beers it is.  And I’m the bartender, not a stripper.  I can get you one of the girls, if you want.”

He scowled – no, he pouted.  It was an outright, child’s gesture, lower lip squished and everything – as he muttered, “No thanks.” 

Annoyed, I swiveled on my heel, and that was when I felt his hand brushed my hips and grab ahold of my ass. 

My jaw dropped in shock even as my brows shot up in outrage.  I was used to having to turn clients down, but this little shit had reached over the bar to grab at me.

I turned and had half a second to spot Wrath there, behind him - but I was faster.

I grabbed John’s hand before he could pull it away and I twisted it.  Hard.  Hard enough to hear sinews pop.  Without a word of apology, I pinned his wrist against the bar.  I bent his hand at an unnatural angle and he groaned.

When I spoke, my voice was low and deathly serious.  “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, you got it Johnny-Boy? Because I swear to god, if you do, I’ll fucking break your hand.  You hear?”  I could feel him staring at me – no longer creepy, just scared.  I could smell his sweat, sharp and afraid.  But I was so angry I couldn’t see it.  My voice stayed steady though. 

“I don’t give a shit who the fuck you are.  If you ever touch me again, I will end your ability to jack off with this fucking hand.”  Threatening men wasn’t my thing, but you had better believe I meant every fucking word.

He grunted but he did nod that he understood me very well. 

When I released him, he stumbled back.  The way he looked at me, I thought he might try to save face, but his eyes tracked to Wrath and then Rage, skittering about like bugs over both bikers.

Neither of them offered him any support.  Wrath outright cracked his knuckles, and I watched Johnny’s shoulders hunch slightly.

He gave it up. 

I kept an eye on him as he left, to make sure he was actually going for the night.  Then I glanced back at Wrath.  He had stayed near enough to back me up, but he had let me handle the situation for myself. 

I liked that. 

“Damn,” he drawled, low and slow. 

He didn’t mock me.  In fact, he seemed genuinely impressed.  Oh yes, I liked this one.

I looked him over, a faint grin twitching at the corners of my mouth.  The breadth of his shoulders.  The broad, angular line of his jaw.  I could appreciate the length and breadth of his torso even with his shirt on.  And his hands.  The hard angles of those knuckles and fingers…

He really could’ve decked Johnny, but my head was wandering way past a bar fight.

To hide the blush climbing up my throat, I shot him a cocky grin. 

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty independent.”  I gave him a wink and turned to another guest.  One who looked more amused than terrified.  “What can I get for you, sugar?” I drawled, putting on a show of it.

“Take a beer.” 

“Long as you don’t take liberties, you got it.”

He answered smartly, “Yes, ma’am.” 

A couple of men around the bar chuckled.

Wrath grinned as well, a ghostly hint of real enjoyment in his eyes.

When the MC President called him, I hated to see him go.

“Wanna walk you through the club and introduce you to some folks.”  Rage wrapped his arm around Layla and pulled her with him.

Wrath lingered near me a little longer, till Rage called him over.

“See you around.”  When he turned from me and walked away, I couldn’t help but watch. It was a good view.

They were called ‘Fire and Steel’ if I remembered correctly.  Kat had said they were the club’s protection, and part owners.  I knew I’d see them again, but really, I hoped I’d see Wrath.

No cut.  So he wasn’t a part of the motorcycle club that protected us.  Fire and Steel was in and out of here every night, but just because they were, it didn’t mean I’d see him again.  And I wanted to.

Even though I shouldn’t have.  Even though he was probably trouble.

Trouble
.  Well, that was typical, too.

***

It was a good night.  A damn good night, really.  Almost two hundred dollars in tips and not a single complaint made to Kat.  Even ol’ Johnny Grab-Ass hadn’t reported me.  I was feeling pretty golden.  And tired.

2AM was a rough time of night to be trying to get back to campus.  All the drunks and idiots would be out driving, and I had an 8AM class in the morning.  I’d be lucky to get four hours of good sleep. 

I was already dragging, dead on my feet when I got to my car, but it had been worth it. 

I slid into the seat of the shitty little Ford Tempo and stuck my key in the ignition.  The AC had been broken since I had bought this pile of junk, and the windshield was cracked from debris flying up on the road a few weeks back.  But it got me around, and that was what I needed.

Unfortunately, my luck had gotten a little thin since leaving the club.

Under the hood, the Tempo’s engine reeled instead of turned over.  It screeched and shook in agitation, then coughed and went silent.