Unattainable Page 14

  Worse. She’d be touching him. Not just touching him, her whole damn body would be pressed up against him. He’d never let anyone ride bitch before. He couldn’t stand it, the thought of not being able to control what was happening behind him; the thought of someone being able to restrain him, push him down, and do whatever they wanted to do to him.

  “Dirty?”

  Startled, he spun around and found Ellie standing in his bedroom doorway. Her eyes grew wide, giving her a bug-eyed appearance, and her lips parted.

  “Dirty?” she repeated, sounding shocked.

  He said nothing, just watched her take him in, his shaved head, his facial hair gone. He’d actually gone so far as to put on a clean white T-shirt. He’d figured if he were going to be clean, he might as well take that last step. His leathers, however, were still filthy and he had no immediate plans to rectify that.

  “Oh my God,” Ellie breathed. “You look…you look…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

  Dirty didn’t like the way she was looking at him. At all.

  “Your parents know,” he said tersely. “Moorseville’s lookin’ for you.” That seemed to snap her out of her stupor.

  “Got no choice,” he continued. “You gotta go to the club. We’re goin’ on lockdown.”

  “My mother,” she whispered. “She’s really sick; she needs to know I’m all right.”

  Dirty held out his cell phone. “Call her,” he said. “Explain what happened, but you gotta make sure they ain’t gonna say shit to the cops. Shit’s about to go down between the Horsemen and the law, and you’re bein’ put in the middle.”

  Ellie stared at him, probably trying to figure out what he meant by “shit’s about to go down,” but he wasn’t going to elaborate. She may be in the middle of this fucking mess, but that didn’t mean she had the right to know what the mess was.

  Ellie took the phone from him and while she called her parents, he began rummaging through his closet looking for something for her to wear. When she was off the phone and wiping tears off her bruised cheeks, he handed her a pair of leathers, a belt, a white tee, and his old leather jacket.

  “Put my helmet on before we leave the apartment,” he told her as he pointed to it, and left her to get ready.

  A few minutes later Ellie emerged from his bedroom. The T-shirt was tight around her breasts and the leathers were formfitting.

  She looked damn hot. But it was the jacket he couldn’t stop staring at.

  Dirty couldn’t explain it, neither did he understand it, why seeing a woman wearing something of his, his very first leather jacket, the very first thing he’d bought for himself after Deuce had brought him back to Montana, made him feel like…

  Like…

  He swallowed hard.

  Like a man. He felt like a goddamn man. It was the weirdest fucking feeling.

  “Are you ready?” Ellie asked, sniffling as she wiped the back of her hand under her nose.

  “Yeah,” he muttered, turning away. Suddenly he didn’t want to take her to the club. He didn’t want her around the boys; he wanted to keep her here. With him. Well, not with him, but near him, a room or two away, so every once in a while he could hear her laughing. Or something.

  • • •

  Ellie put the helmet over her head and followed Dirty outside to the sidewalk where his bike was parked. The street was busier than usual; it being a holiday weekend, the townspeople had all ventured into town so Ellie kept her head down and didn’t look around as she waited silently for Dirty to straddle his bike.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” she heard Dirty mutter and her head jerked up. Following Dirty’s gaze to the other side of the street, to the front of Hank’s, she found Daniel along with two uniforms and Hank himself, all staring at the two of them. Her heart dropped.

  “Flip up the lid on the helmet,” Dirty said under his breath. “He knows it’s you. We’re gonna have to play this shit out right fuckin’ here and now.”

  Swallowing hard, with shaking hands Ellie removed the helmet, and Daniel’s hard, narrowed gaze shot straight to her.

  “Don’t leave me alone with him,” she whispered frantically as Daniel and his two officers started for them. “Please, Dirty, please don’t let him take me anywhere.”

  Dirty turned to her and she balked at the expression on his face. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. It was…it was…anger, determination, and most definitely a touch of crazy.

  “I will kill him where he stands if he even tries,” Dirty said tightly through clenched teeth. Ellie gaped at Dirty. She didn’t doubt for a minute that he would in fact kill an officer of the law in broad daylight and in front of half the town, his expression was that terrifying.

  “Ellie,” Daniel said, stopping on the opposite side of Dirty’s motorcycle. “We’ve been looking for you.”

  Despite the raging anger and crippling fear she felt racing through her bloodstream, Ellie willed her shaking body to remain as still as possible. “Really?” she asked, her voice croaking.

  Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Why?”

  The corner of Daniel’s mouth lifted. “An officer found your purse behind Hank’s,” he said smoothly.

  The more Ellie stared at Daniel, the sicker she began to feel until she had no choice but to place one of her sweaty, shaking hands over her stomach in a failed attempt to stop the rising nausea.

  “She’s fine,” Dirty growled as he maneuvered himself partially in front of her. Like a shield, a protective wall, like…the man who’d saved her once and was ready to do it again. Even when facing down the law.

  “She doesn’t look fine,” Daniel retorted. “In fact, she looks pretty beaten up.”

  Ellie gaped at him. She couldn’t believe the nerve of this man, the audacity.

  “How about you give her the purse back,” Dirty growled, “and we’ll be on our fuckin’ way.”

  Daniel’s smirk turned grim as he focused on Dirty. “Her purse is at the station,” he replied tightly. “Evidence in what we thought was a missing person case.”

  Dirty jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “She ain’t missin’, Einstein.”

  “Her parents think she is,” Daniel spat back, his hand going to the gun on his belt holster. The two officers standing on either side of him mirrored the action.

  So did Dirty. He reached into his cut and—

  “No, they don’t,” Ellie said, stepping out from behind Dirty. “I just spoke with them, told them I’d decided to hang with a friend for a few days, and that I’d be by soon. It was supposed to be a surprise.” She glared at Daniel, grateful her anger had taken a front seat to this horror show. “A surprise you fucking ruined.” Those last five words were said through her teeth, punctuated with as much venomous innuendo as she could muster.

  “Speakin’ of friends,” Dirty said. “We gotta ride. Places to fuckin’ be.”

  “Ellie,” Daniel said tightly, turning back to her.

  It took every ounce of willpower not to shrink away, every ounce of sanity not to remember that awful mouth on her, biting her, groping her, tearing her clothing off of her, punching her, slapping her.

  “You need to come down to the station with me so we can close the case.”

  “Hell fuckin’ no,” Dirty said, leaning over his bike and into Daniel’s personal space. “You want someone to be comin’ to that station, it’s gonna be Deuce. And he’ll be comin’ real fuckin’ soon.”

  Daniel’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes did. Was that fear Ellie glimpsed? Satisfaction roared through her. Daniel was afraid of Deuce. And suddenly she’d never been so happy before that she knew Deuce and the Horsemen.

  Daniel waited several tense moments before answering. “Make sure he does,” he replied evenly.

  After Daniel and his officers were out of sight, Dirty straddled his bike. Once he was seated, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Get on,” he said tightly.

  He didn’t want her on the back of his bike; that much
was obvious. He definitely had issues with being touched, needing space, and even seemed to have problems with having full-length conversations.

  But neither of them had much of a choice at the moment. She just hoped her touching him wouldn’t send him into another flashback or worse.

  At first, she tried to get on behind him without touching him, but the last time she’d been on a motorcycle was the one and only time she’d slept with Cage. Years and years ago. Eventually she gave up trying and grabbed Dirty’s shoulder to steady herself as she swung her left leg over the seat and eased herself up.

  Once she was seated, she tentatively slid her arms around Dirty’s waist and as she did, his back went ramrod straight. She froze with her hands on his waist, then whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She held her breath and waited for him to react, to get angry with her, to laugh at her even, but instead his body loosened and his shoulders bowed forward. Breathing out in relief, she continued her slow slide around his midsection until she was holding tightly to his lean waist.

  “Lean with me,” Dirty said loudly over the roar of his Harley pipes.

  “What?” she asked.

  He turned his head to the side. “When I hit a corner, lean with me.”

  She nodded, he faced forward, and they shot out into the street.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  After tossing back the last of my drink, I set the glass down on the bar and turned to glare at Cage. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here,” I muttered.

  Cage smirked before he took a swig of his beer. “Who the fuck was talkin’?” he asked. “All I remember was a lot of fuckin’.”

  Glaring down at my empty glass, I silently willed the gin to refill itself. Nothing was going as planned. Nothing.

  Stopping by my mother’s house had done nothing except further propel me into Cage’s naked lap. Watching him interact with her, the way he was so careful with her, gentle and sweet, that by the time we’d left we’d barely made to his bike before I was sexually assaulting him.

  So what if a guy is nice to your very fragile mother? That shouldn’t mean you’re suddenly craving his dick in your mouth. Or agreeing to spend the rest of the day at his ridiculous motorcycle club with him, still craving his dick in your mouth.

  “Do you think she saw us?” I whispered.

  “Your mom? See you tryin’ to strip me naked in the driveway?” Cage snorted. “Yeah, babe, I think the whole neighborhood saw us.”

  “Why didn’t you stop me?” I demanded.

  Shooting me an amused glance, Cage started laughing. “Stop you? Babe, your pussy’s like fuckin’ crack. Been up inside that shit all damn day and I’m still jonesin’ for more.”

  Ahhhhh, dammit. That smile, that voice, those crude words that somehow sounded as sexy as fuck.

  “Tegen,” he said softly. “Stop lookin’ at me like that, babe, or I’m gonna pick you the fuck up and take you straight to my room. I know you don’t want to go there, but you keep starin’ at me all hungry and shit, I’m not gonna care what the fuck you want. I’m just gonna take it.”

  Realizing I’d been staring at Cage, I swallowed hard and glanced away. Seconds later I felt his hand land on my thigh and slide slowly in between my legs, cupping me. “Think I might just take it anyway,” he said, his voice a low growl.

  Breathing hard, trying to focus on the conversation instead of his touch, I turned to face him. “Thank you for being so nice to her.”

  Cage blinked. “Huh?” he said, taking his hand back. “Your mom? Why wouldn’t I?”

  I shrugged. “Everyone else has been pressuring her to come to the club, but you didn’t even mention it. That was really nice of you.”

  “You’re forgettin’ somethin’, babe,” he said gently. “I love D. We all love D. Anybody who’s pressurin’ her isn’t tryin’ to hurt her, they’re just missin’ her. I hadn’t seen her in some time and I wasn’t about to be forcin’ the club on her or anything.”

  I stared at him, my eyes roaming every inch of his perfect face, feeling so incredibly inadequate to be seated next to him.

  Why was he being so sweet?

  “Since when are you so nice?” I whispered.

  Cage’s nostrils flared slightly. “Only once, since the day I met you, Teacup, that I haven’t treated you right. Am I right?”

  My cheeks flushing, I glanced immediately away from him and just as quickly Cage grabbed hold of my thigh and dug his fingertips into my flesh until I whimpered in pain.

  “Look at me,” he growled.

  I already was. And I was glaring.

  “Am. I. Right?” he demanded quietly, staring directly into my eyes. The longer I stared at him, my anger began to abate. He was…right.

  Suddenly I felt so stupid, so small, as if all my anger toward him had been a giant waste of time. That if I’d only listened every time he’d tried to talk me down, if I would have actually looked his way, I would have seen the apology in his eyes years ago. A wave of nausea coursed through me. What was happening here?

  Would this, whatever this was, between Cage and me have happened years ago if I hadn’t been so unwilling to even speak to him?

  Biting my bottom lip, feeling conflicted, I nodded quickly and he immediately let go. Looking satisfied, he leaned back on his barstool and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Do you ever wonder if she’s been rememberin’ shit and not tellin’ anyone?”

  The abrupt change in subject gave me pause. “What?” I asked, shaking my head.

  He shrugged. “Just somethin’ she said durin’ lunch. That Christopher’s been askin’ to ride on Hawk’s bike, but then she said no way is she lettin’ him on, that she didn’t let you get on a bike until you were twelve.”

  I stared at him, my thoughts shooting out in a million different directions. Was she remembering? Or had I told her about that during one of many attempts at trying to help her remember? I wracked my brain trying to remember phone conversations and my visits home and…

  Shit! I didn’t know! I couldn’t remember.

  “Why would she do that?” I asked. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

  “She’d been waitin’ on Jase for years, Teacup,” Cage said, “only to end up gettin’ shot in the fuckin’ head by his old lady. Maybe she figures not lettin’ on she remembers him is her way out.”

  “Holy fuck,” I said. “Holy motherfuck!”

  Cage gave me a quizzical look. “What?”

  “She was crying this morning.”

  She’d been standing in the window watching me fight with Jase, watching me haul his drunk stupid ass in the car, and she’d been crying. The immediate danger of Jase breaking in had been taken away. She wasn’t crying about the threat of him…she was crying about him.

  That wasn’t something a woman who didn’t remember a man did. Why would you cry over someone you didn’t remember? That was something a woman did who’d had her heart repeatedly broken by a man.

  I wanted to be mad at her, for not telling me, but at the same time, I wasn’t in any position to judge her. I’d run away from my problems. She was hiding from hers. We were both guilty of the same things.

  “You want me to take you home?” Cage asked, his expression full of concern. “Sounds like you and her need to talk.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know what I would say.”

  Looking thoughtful, Cage nodded, then suddenly he was grinning.

  “You remember who gave you that first ride, Teacup?”

  “Yes,” I said dryly, fighting back a smile. “You gave me all my first rides.”

  Cage gave me a look that suggested he was about to haul me off my stool and give me another ride when Deuce’s office doors suddenly slammed open and everyone in the main room turned to watch him storm out. He took in the occupants of the room and stopped his angry gaze on Mick.

  “Call in all the boys,” he said. “Tell ’em to bring in their families. We’re going on loc
kdown, startin’ now.”

  Seeking out Eva, Deuce pointed at her. “Babe, go pick up D and bring her ass here.”

  Wait. What? Lockdown? D?

  Shit.

  Oh hell, no.

  I jumped off my barstool, slapping Cage’s hand away when he tried to grab me.

  “Tegen!” he hissed. “You know lockdown means you too!”

  “I’m leaving!” I shouted in Deuce’s direction, ignoring Cage as I quickly hurried toward the door.

  “Tegen!”

  I kept walking.

  “You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Deuce called out. “This is club business.”

  Bucket was suddenly standing in front of the front door, shaking his head at me, blocking me from leaving. I stopped walking and glared at him.

  “Move,” I ground out.

  Bucket grinned. “Ain’t no way in hell,” he said.

  “Move!” I shouted.

  “TEGEN!” Deuce bellowed.

  Bucket spun his index finger in a circular motion, signaling that it was time for me to turn around, something that only pissed me off even more.

  Flipping Bucket off, I spun around. “I am not part of your damn club!” I yelled. “And either is my mother!”

  As Deuce stalked toward me, his booted steps heavy and deliberate, his nostrils flaring, I did everything in my power not to shrink under his angry glare. Deuce angry was not a pretty sight; it was in fact absolutely terrifying.

  “Listen to me,” Deuce growled quietly, having reached me. “I ain’t got time for your mouth right now. We got a problem with the local law that I ain’t got a hold of yet. So if you think I’m gonna let you walk out that fuckin’ door only for somethin’ to happen to you because shit’s goin’ down right now, you’re stupid as fuck.”

  Deuce pointed to the bar. “March your mouthy little ass back on over there, sit the fuck down next to King Stupid, and keep on doin’ whatever the fuck it was you were doin’. And get damn comfy doin’ it, ’cause you’re gonna be here ’til Wednesday.”

  My jaw dropped. “Wednesday!” I shouted, forgetting in my anger that Deuce’s temper was not something anyone wanted to mess around with. “I have to be back at work on Tuesday!”